by Cathi Shaw
Well, there must be something we can do? she said in frustration. Think, Teague. Is there anything can we try to break the spell?
He frowned. I’m not sure. It sounds as though the most obvious things have not worked. Does Celeste have any ideas?
Thia shook her head. She didn’t seem to when I tried to contact you this way. But she may have more when I get back and she hears it is a spell causing this.
Teague nodded. Okay, see what she comes up with. The Draíodóir would know but it sounds like we don’t have access to them at present. I’ll try to think of other things we might be able to do.
Thia watched him in concern. She wondered if Teague would go back to that place of unknowingness when she left. And more importantly would he be here if she returned?
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Kiara stood at the entrance of the cave and looked over the mounds of snow at the transformed world before her. Caedmon's prediction of a three-day storm had been wrong, thankfully. The storm had lasted only until mid-day. While it continued to rage, Kiara and Caedmon waited it out in the cave.
The cave was cold and they’d no wood for a fire. So while Kiara had exited the bedroll she shared with Caedmon as soon as dawn came, she had spent the remainder of the morning sitting huddled miserably in a corner of the cave, fighting not to succumb to another round of shivers.
Kiara's face heated when she remembered sleeping in the bedroll with Caedmon. She had never slept with a boy and Caedmon was more of a man than a boy. But she had been grateful for his warmth through the night. It had been innocent enough, she rationalized to herself. After all they both had stayed fully clothed. And it was necessary to sleep together to avoid freezing to death.
She sobered as she remembered Caedmon's body shaking with sobs. Looking at his harsh features now, one would never imagine that he would give in to his emotions like that. But Teague was his brother. She felt as though her own heart had been ripped out whenever she thought of Thia trapped in that cold cave. She was sure Caedmon felt the same way. But she suspected it was not something he would want to speak about. And his silence through the last few hours of the storm assured her that he didn't like the fact that she had witnessed his grief.
He finally joined her and stood surveying the mountainside. The landscape beyond the entrance to the cave was brilliant. The sun reflected off the white world, creating a bright landscape that seemed to go on forever. It was a sharp contrast to the blowing snow that had extinguished all visibility only hours earlier.
Looking at the deep snow, Kiara swallowed hard as she imagined how they would have to climb through the fresh snow up the mountain. This route Weylon had planned for them had never been easy but now it was looking almost impossible. She wondered if Caedmon felt the same way.
But Caedmon had been through these mountain passes before, she reminded herself. And he'd done so in winter. Kiara turned to him now, hoping he had some magical way of easing their journey. But first they had to at least try to get Thia and Teague. They would be able to clearly see what they were doing now. Perhaps there was a weakness in the pile of rocks and debris that they'd missed in the storm yesterday. Surely Caedmon would agree with her.
"What do we do now?" she asked him, "Do you think we can climb down, through the snow?"
"There is no point in going back down, Kiara," Caedmon said firmly. "You know we can't get them." His dark eyes were shuttered, revealing no emotion. But Kiara wasn't fooled. She knew he was capable of feeling.
She stared at him; their eyes locking as she silently challenged him. They couldn't just leave Thia and Teague buried. She remembered Caedmon's grief in the night. She hadn't imagined his sobs. How could he just forget his brother so easily? She certainly was not going to forget about her sister. She opened her mouth to argue and he held up his hand.
"They could very well be alive, I agree, but we can't possibly shift half a mountain out of the entrance to get to them," he said exhaustion and sorrow mixed in his tone. "I wish we could," he added, sadness suddenly filling his dark eyes.
Kiara felt an instant stab of guilt. She was always the one who was quick to argue and slow to let something go. Was she arguing now just for the sake of arguing? She remembered the piles of rock that were blocking the entrance the previous evening. Now that rock would be buried in snow. Caedmon was right it was an impossible task for two people, even two people as strong as them. And attempting to move the mountain would only fatigue and chill them, putting them both at risk again. Kiara had not forgotten how cold she'd been the previous night when Caedmon had stuffed her into his sleeping roll.
"I'm sorry, Caedmon." She paused and considered. "Do you really think they may have survived the cave in?"
Caedmon nodded. "It’s likely that they are trapped." He stopped, his voice rough with emotion when he continued, "Not that that's a better thing. It's worse to die a slow death of suffocation or starvation trapped underground."
Suddenly Kiara remembered Teague's comments before she left the cave. He had been excited because he thought he'd found another way through the mountain. Kiara hadn't taken him very seriously as she'd been in a hurry to find them food but now she tried to remember what he'd said exactly. He's been talking about going to explore the tunnel he'd found. He could be exploring it even now. There was a chance.
"They might not be trapped," she said slowly, her heart leaping with hope.
Caedmon looked at her blankly. "What do you mean?"
Kiara told him what Teague had discovered. The tunnel that Teague had thought could lead through the mountain. Kiara felt her lips lifting in a smile as a wave of hope passed through her. Then she became aware of Caedmon standing in front of her with a menacing look on his face.
He glared at her. "You just thought of telling me this now?" he bellowed, his deep voice echoing through the snow-blanketed mountains.
Kiara felt a stab of guilt. "I'm sorry," she said wryly. "I'd forgotten all about it until you described the trapped scenario."
Caedmon's scowl eased and for a moment he looked hopeful.
"At the very least there is a possibility that they will be able to go somewhere," she said with a smile. But then her smile slipped as she remembered thinking that the passage was probably a dead end. She looked at Caedmon glumly. "Where that way leads, if anywhere at all, is another question altogether. For some reason Teague seemed to think the tunnel might lead through the mountains to Séreméla." She paused and then shook her head. "Do you think that's at all possible, Caedmon?"
He silently studied the winter scene outside the cave for a moment, considering her words. "There are legends of such a passage but no one believes it's real. Except for Teague, of course," he added wryly.
Her heart lifted again. Caedmon was the most cynical person she'd ever met. If he thought there might be a chance the route was real, then she could allow herself to hope. "It would be ironic if the cave forced them to discover the lost road out of the mountains, wouldn't it?" Kiara said wistfully.
Caedmon nodded but he looked troubled.
"What's wrong, Caedmon?"
"The legend of the passage is not all good news, Kiara. While it tells the tale of the lost route, that road is not free from danger."
Kiara raised her eyebrows.
"The legend also tells of creatures in the dark who dwell in the mountain. They are the reason it has not been found and they will not be kind to those who try to invade their territory."
Fear pierced her heart. But then she looked sharply at Caedmon.
"You don't believe such stories, do you?" she couldn't help asking.
Caedmon grimaced and shook his head as he turned back to the cave. "But that isn't necessarily good news."
Kiara followed him, looking at him questioningly.
He glanced back at her over his shoulder. "Remember Kiara, I don't believe in secret passages, either."
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Hope of the next generation or not, Meldiron kept his promise and beg
an to visit with Mina each day. The more time she spent with him, the more Mina liked the young Elder.
One day, in the second week after they had met, Meldiron suggested that he take her to the library.
"I know I've been disrupting your routine by tiring you out every morning. Why don't you let me take you to the library?"
Mina nodded eagerly. While she was enjoying her visits with Meldiron immensely, he was right about it tiring her out. By the time he left each morning, she found she didn't have energy left to go to the library. And she was missing her studies not to mention the fact that she worried that Eöl Ar-Feiniel would be concerned by her disappearance. She’d developed an instant fondness for the old Elder.
"What have you been reading about?" Meldiron asked her the first day he led her into the small alcove in the library. Mina was pleased to see that Eöl Ar-Feiniel had left all her papers and books piled neatly on the desk, as if waiting for her. But she was disappointed that the elderly archivist did not make an appearance while Meldiron was present. She wondered where he was.
Quickly she told Meldiron of the scrolls that she had been studying. She picked up one that the archivist had called The Prophecy. "Eöl Ar-Feiniel has helped translate the ancient dialect somewhat," she admitted. "But even he doesn't know what the more intricate words might mean."
Meldiron nodded. Then picked up one of the older tomes, leafing through it. "I remember reading this one," he confided with a grin.
"Really?" Mina asked. "How old were you?"
He looked up from the book and wrinkled his straight nose in a comical way. "Six or seven."
Mina's mouth fell open. The tome he was holding had been difficult for her to get through without Eöl Ar-Feiniel's help. She couldn't imagine a small child reading it. "You must have a had a very strange childhood."
He laughed, a musical sound that echoed through the silent library. "Yes, it was an unconventional childhood, I suppose. I was Crown Prince after all."
Mina studied him for a moment, tried to picture him as a small blond haired, green-eyed boy with the responsibility of the Elder people on his shoulders. She failed miserably. Meldiron was too self-contained and composed to imagine as a child. It was hard to believe he'd ever been a child.
"What was it like? Being a child with so much responsibility?"
Something unreadable flashed in his green eyes, reminding Mina of a cold green sea. Then Meldiron stood up.
"Would you like to see the gardens?"
Mina's heart leapt and she looked at him closely to make sure he wasn't teasing. "Yes!" she said eagerly when she saw how serious his face was, "Yes, please."
He laughed again at her excitement. But then Mina remembered Bellasiel's refusal to let her go out of doors.
"But I don't think Bellasiel will approve," she said sadly.
Meldiron surprised her by winking. "Let me take care of Bellasiel. There are some advantages to being friends with the Crown Prince you know."
****
Mina was enchanted by the gardens. She had never seen such lush vegetation in her life. The forest next to the Inn paled in comparison to the overgrown throng of the Elder gardens.
Meldiron wheeled her down one of the many groomed paths that led from the Sanctuary. He laughed at her exclamations over the odd flowery shrubs that lined the path.
"Do you know what this is?" he asked as the path they were on opened onto the bank of a calm flowing river. The river was wide and the banks were high, but the blue-green waters were calm and gentle.
Mina's heart gave a lurch. She looked up a Meldiron. "It's not ... the Aranel Pallanén?" she whispered in awe. The great river that she had heard countless stories about as a child and had been reading about in the History of Séreméla. She stared at the calm waters in front of her, remembering the great battles and travels that had taken place on the river in the early years of the Elder people’s history.
Meldiron smiled at her indulgently. "You, Mina, remind me of the treasures of our land. Yes, this is indeed the Aranel Pallanén. What do you think of her?"
Mina paused, gazing out over the river. "It's calmer than I expected," she admitted.
Meldiron laughed. "Right now it is." When she looked up at him puzzled he explained, "This is our dry season, when the river is calm. When the rains come to the northern part of the valley the river swells and can be quite treacherous. Then it appears more like the Aranel Pallanén of legend and story."
Mina nodded and turned back to the river. She felt a great sense of peace and calm come over her. Suddenly she recognized what she was feeling. She felt like she was at home.
****
One afternoon, as they explored a small flower garden not far from the Sanctuary, Mina suddenly asked, "How can you stand all this beauty and not become completely overwhelmed?"
Meldiron smiled softly at her. "I am used to it. I forget that this is all new to you. Do you find it overwhelming?" he asked.
Mina shook her head. "I find it enchanting," she breathed, feeling that same sense of peace and contentment that she first felt on the riverbank.
"I don't know why but somehow I feel that I've finally come home," she sighed as she bent to smell a particularly beautiful teal colored lily.
Meldiron was silent and Mina looked up at him, a smile on her lips. It faded when she saw how serious his expression was.
"Have you ever wondered how you, clearly an Elder, came to be fostered with Brijit?" he asked.
She nodded briefly. "Brijit did tell us the story of herself and Weylon. I know they are coimirceoirí."
He cocked his head, considering. "Yes. But did you ever wonder why you were sent so far from Séreméla?"
"Of course I did. But Brijit does not seem to know herself." She looked up at him curiously. "Do you know why?"
Meldiron shrugged. "I know some of the story." He looked sheepish. "I am not so much older than you that I clearly remember you leaving," he admitted. "I was a small child when they decided to remove you from Séreméla."
Mina stared at him. Did he mean that he remembered her leaving, if vaguely? "Who decided?" Mina asked suddenly feeling that it was very important.
"The Council of Elders," he explained, "I've come to know some details but not much." He paused. "I do know that your parents were both murdered. You also would have been killed had your grandmother not taken you to the gardens that afternoon."
"These gardens?" Mina couldn't help asking. Then she focused on the rest of his words. "My grandmother!" she exclaimed. "Can I meet her?"
Meldiron shook his head sadly. "No, she is dead. She was also murdered just after you were removed from Séreméla. You were only a few days old."
Mina felt tears rising for the family she never had the chance to know. "It has something to do with the Prophecy," she said softly, feeling in her heart it was true but uncertain as to why this was so. She suddenly wished that she could read that old scroll Eöl Ar-Feiniel had brought to her. But even Meldiron could make nothing of it; the dialect was so ancient.
"Yes," Meldiron agreed. "But I don't know what. Only that you were one of the Marked Ones and so were hidden deep in the realm. And after the murders Séreméla was protected by the wards."
"What kind of wards?" Mina asked carefully.
Meldiron shook his head. "Complex magik that was put in place by the Draíodóir. Even I do not understand it completely but I know that it protects all those within Séreméla. No one can be harmed while they are within the boundaries of Séreméla. Not animal nor human."
Mina nodded, feeling reassured that she was, for present, safe. Then another thought occurred to her. "Are there more of us? More Marked Ones."
Meldiron watched her for a few moments and then seemed to make up his mind about something. Suddenly he unlaced his tunic.
"What are you doing?" Mina asked in surprise.
He didn't answer but pulled the fabric over his head in a smooth motion. And then stood and turned to display the small mark on his right sh
oulder.
"You, too!" Mina gasped, stunned.
Looking grim, Meldiron pulled his tunic back on and nodded. "I don't know what it means. I don't think even the most experienced advisors know the meaning of the Marks. Nor do they know how many of us are in the realm. They have found dead children with the Mark. We are the only living ones they have found."
Mina shuddered, thinking of the poor children who were killed because of the Mark. Why had she been protected?
"They don't know who is killing the Marked Ones only that there is a force that doesn't want us to survive." Meldiron looked grim. "For that reason I have vowed to discovered the meaning behind this mystery."
After Meldiron had walked her back to her chambers, Mina thought about the Prophecy and the Mark. It was hard to believe that a prince was also one of the Marked Ones. It seemed so random. But there must be some reason for the Mark, she felt sure of it. And she had a gut feeling that the answer lay buried in the Prophecy. If only they could find someone who could read it.
****
A few days later Meldiron came to tell her that he was leaving.
Mina stared at him in surprise. She had been looking forward to their visit that afternoon, as she wanted to ask him about the second monarchy of the Elders that had been destroyed by an internal war two thousand years before. She had been reading about it in the library with Eöl Ar-Feiniel but had questions she felt Meldiron would be better at answering.
She was also disappointed because she had come to enjoy their afternoon visits very much. With her sisters absent, Meldiron had become a close friend. Wandering in the gardens without him seemed a rather dull way of passing her time.
On the other hand, she had to admit that it was unlikely that the prince would be able to spend time with her on a daily basis indefinitely. Surely he had duties and tasks that would claim his time. She shouldn't be surprised that he needed to attend to other things.
