“He kills them, then?” a boy with freckles asked.
“No, the shifter meets them and drags them down into the water, where he kisses them and transforms them into mermaids.”
“Then what happens?” a pigtailed girl asked, her hands clasped, hanging onto every word.
“He eats them.”
The girls squealed in disgust before getting up and leaving, and the boys followed after them, acting as though they would eat them. Owen shook his head with a smirk. He was not particularly good with children, but he enjoyed telling them stories.
After, he took a plate of food and chatted with a few acquaintances. He spoke with Milo about how good the fish was, then talked briefly with a few of his friends that worked more often than he and Hale did. He could not find Hale anywhere, nor Molly. Amias busied himself in deep conversation with others. Owen had a feeling the man was gathering information, as he always did.
“Owen, there you are,” Amias said, coming up next to him. “Enjoying the party?”
“As well as I can.”
“I’ve never seen a livelier community of people.”
“It’s why I like it here.”
Before Amias could reply, Esther Crowe waltzed up to them. The middle-aged woman placed her hands on her hips and smirked up at Amias. “I thought that was you today at The Ember Wood. Thought you could sneak by without a friendly hello?”
Amias gave her a lopsided smile. “Hello, Esther. I wouldn’t dream of ignoring you or William. Is he here with you?”
“Aye, drinking with the others. He just got in this morning all the way from Fair Fields.”
“Any news from down that way?” Amias asked.
“They put up a new temple on the outskirts.”
Owen raised his brows. “They did?”
Esther nodded. “Seems they want to shove the goddess in all our faces. And what for? More floods to break away the lands? I hear there’re quakes down south in Avathon. Maybe they should resurrect her statues there if she’s so important.”
“Quakes and floods have been happening for a long time now,” Amias reassured her. “And there are many temples and statues there already, trust me.”
“Of course, it’s the southerners come up from Avathon that invade Milarc with all their goddess talk. Let me go find my husband. He’ll tell you more than I can at the moment.”
When she turned to leave, Owen looked at Amias. “The temples are becoming a big problem up this way.”
Amias shook his head. “Only to the non-believers.”
“There are a lot of non-believers in the north. That’s why everyone has been in a fuss over the statue.”
Amias smiled. “Well, everyone has their own beliefs, don’t they? But Esther is right about the Legion pushing Yuna upon us. We should be free to worship or not worship, and the Legion is getting serious about pressing the matter. Listen, we can talk about this later. Go enjoy the party.” Amias left him to mingle with the others.
For all the times the villagers had the bonfire, Owen took part in the drinking and dancing. But on this particular night, loneliness gripped him like an icy hand. He watched women and men dance together in the light of the fire. Hale and Molly were nowhere to be seen, but Lyra and a group of girls huddled near one of the tables, laughing and talking.
His mind was far off, thinking of the things Amias had told him that morning. If he were to leave Emberton tomorrow, he would be giving up his friends and home. But if he stayed, he knew what the consequences would be. Though he had suppressed the power within himself, it would be a hard thing to give up so easily. Even if he used his power only enough to sense energies, it was still part of him. Was he willing to give that up?
With this in tow, Owen wanted to indulge in the scenery one last time before he went. He took a lantern and stole away from the party, walking briskly through the darkness.
He strolled past the empty houses to the path leading down to the beach. Taking off his boots, he left them near the stairs with the lantern.
The sand was cold against his feet as he walked along the shore. The moon peeked in and out from the clouds, half lighting the way for him. He came to his usual spot, and his heart nearly stopped when he spotted Hale there, sitting on his rock.
“Why aren’t you up at the party?” Owen asked him.
“I needed to think a moment,” Hale answered. He smiled and patted the rock beside him. “And I had a feeling you’d come here.”
Owen sat beside him, his chest warming. “Where’s Molly?” He hoped his friend’s response would be something along the lines of “Well, I got tired of her and decided to see what you were up to.”
Instead, it was, “I told her I needed to talk with you about something.”
“What is it?” Owen’s heart raced.
Hale looked down. “When I go to Glen Briar, I’ll be picking up a ring. I love Molly Thorne.” He smiled at Owen.
For a moment, Owen’s lips twitched. His stomach dropped. Then he blurted out, “That’s wonderful.” He stopped short and frowned. If he left with Amias, he would not be able to see Hale again, or see him wed Molly. For some reason, this made leaving all the easier.
“What’s wrong?” Hale asked.
“Nothing, it’s just…I’ll actually be leaving town for a while, too. Tomorrow. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.”
“This is sudden. Where are you going?”
Owen bit at his inner cheek, thinking quickly of a town. “Berry Farms,” he said.
“Berry Farms?” Hale’s brow knitted together. “That’s a long walk for this time of year. Unless you’ve just bought a horse I don’t know about.”
“Amias—he’s going to take me down there.”
“That wasn’t who you were with today. Is someone else visiting you?”
“Um, well, yes. A friend of Amias.” It was not a complete lie, Owen told himself.
“If I had known you had visitors, I wouldn’t have bothered you this morning. Next time just tell me.”
“Sorry.”
“Well, if Molly says yes, I’ll plan to have you help with the wedding, huh?”
A wave of nausea crashed over him. “Of course,” Owen said quietly.
A long pause filtered between them. There were so many changes happening at once that it seemed as though life was out for him. But then again, he had heard it said many times that coming of age brought with it many changes, some good and some bad. He was losing his home and his best friend on the same day.
He thought of having to leave for fear of the Legion getting hold of him and Amias. He thought of a Core Wielder stomping into their village with a glowing Core and demanding to know where the village folk were hiding him. Endangering the people of Emberton was not on Owen’s list of things to do in life.
But this made him wonder. He turned a curious eye to his friend and said, “You know, I overheard a few people at the party talking about Wielders up this way. Do you think there are any Astrans in the region?”
Hale shrugged. “Who knows? They’re touched in the head, aren’t they? They’d probably try and control others if they lived with them.”
The answer was enough to make Owen wince. His heart raced. He thought he’d known his friend better.
Hale nudged him. “Well, I should get back up to the party. You coming?”
“I’m going to sit out here for a while. Amias will have us leaving early in the morning.”
“Then you’d better get rest.” Hale got to his feet and brushed off his pants. “I suppose I’ll see you come spring, then?”
Owen nodded and smiled, which he hoped seemed convincing enough.
“Come see me tomorrow before you leave,” Hale said.
“All right.” But Owen knew this the last time he would see him. He did not want to say goodbye to his best friend.
When he turned to go, Owen called out to him. “Hale!”
Hale looked back, waiting for him to go on. Owen hesitated. There were several thi
ngs he could say at that moment. He could tell him he was going to move someplace else, or that he was going out of the country, or even that he was Astran.
Instead, all Owen could get out was, “See you later.”
Hale smiled at him and shook his head before heading back up the beach.
Owen stood and walked forward until the rush of the waves splashed against his legs, soaking his trousers. He did not care, for he would never feel this same water again, nor see the same scene. His eyes met the moon, temporarily free from the clouds, and then they traveled down the dark line of the horizon. He rocked back and forth, soothed by the ocean’s embrace.
He had not realized how long he’d been standing there, for when he looked back up at the moon, it was covered with dark clouds again. If he were not waking early to leave, he would have stayed out there all night, but the dreary feeling of loss overwhelmed him until he left.
There was no doubt about what he would do now. He trekked along the beach to Milo’s house, following the starlight as the clouds dispersed. He knew Milo was home when he saw the orange torches burning outside his house. The breeze was cold off the ocean, and when he saw Milo sitting in his red rocking chair outside, his heart filled with sorrow.
“There ya are, lad,” Milo started. The man smiled as he rocked, a mug in his hand. He patted his stomach with his other. “Had some of your stew tonight. It was mighty good.”
“Thank you,” Owen replied, and sat in the blue chair beside him.
Silence engulfed them. Owen did not know what to say about leaving.
“What’re you so quiet for?” Milo asked. “You’re usually full of stories or poems.”
“I’ll be leaving tomorrow, with Amias,” Owen replied. “We’re going to visit some relatives down south for a while.”
Milo stopped his rocking. “Visiting? This late in the year?”
“We’ll be traveling, yes, and staying there through winter.” Owen tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, trying to sound cheerful.
Remorse filled him. He hated lying.
“That’s mighty sudden.”
“I know, but he came today and asked if I wanted to go. I’m eager for a trip.”
“I need you to help me prepare more fish. We’ll be able to freeze them when the snows hit.”
“It won’t be that long.” Owen finally met the fisherman’s gray eyes and smiled. “I’m sorry to up and leave. I want to help you, Milo, but I need a trip, too. Amias hardly comes around anymore. And Sonny Meeks, he’s real good at fishing and gutting. I’ve seen him do it with Hale before.”
Milo grunted at that. “I can talk to him, I suppose. Got a few others in mind that can help, too, that just got out of the schoolhouse.” He took a big gulp from his mug, and the foam coated his mustache. “But Amias—the man only makes an effort to see you when it fits his needs. I never could get to liking him, and I ought a feel ashamed of that, but I ain’t.”
“I understand.” Owen glanced at Milo. If he told him he was Astran, would the fisherman be willing to keep him hidden and safe? “I’m sorry,” he said softly.
“Ah, well, it’s your decision, lad.” Milo pulled up a pitcher and poured some ale into another mug, then handed it to Owen. “Here’s to safe travels, then.”
Owen smiled and knocked his mug against Milo’s. “To safe travels.”
They talked until the clouds cleared and the stars twinkled. Then Owen bid the fisherman goodbye, his eyes lingering on the beach house one last time.
When he came back to his house, he found Colt sitting in the rocking chair on the porch, smoking a pipe.
There was silence for a while. Owen leaned against the railing and stole a few glances at Colt as the man rocked. In the distance, the bonfire had died down.
“So…” Owen started. “I suppose Amias is still out?”
“Hm,” Colt hummed. He took a few puffs from his pipe, then looked at Owen through a veil of swirling smoke. “So, you going with us, then?”
A dark shadow fell over Owen. He recalled Hale’s and Amias’s mentions of the Cleansing ritual. The stripping of power from Astrans had been a legal ritual for nearly two thousand years. It always weighed in the back of his mind.
“Of course I am.” Owen’s voice was a whisper.
“Eh, probably best. I’ve been seeing more Legion guards up north. I’d take my chances leaving the country, too, if I was you.”
“Only to step foot into another with the same problem?”
“Avathon is big. You’ll be able to hide there better than here. The Legion masters there aren’t as advanced as they are here in Milarc. Amias told me the glowing Cores are a product of Alacor’s science, not Luthien’s.”
The damp air chilled Owen’s cheeks, making him shiver. The two citadels were the Legion’s main headquarters. Alacor sat within Milarc, and Luthien in Avathon. So far, the grand masters in Alacor were ahead of their time, and Luthien usually fell in line with their inventions in the years to follow. If glowing Cores and Outriders were new inventions of his home country, the others would catch on eventually. But right now, Owen at least had a chance to get away from such things.
After a while, Amias came back, rounding on the porch. His face looked grave in the dim light of the moon.
“Something wrong?” Owen asked.
Amias cleared his throat. “I was talking with William Crowe tonight. He told me Wielders were questioning a few folks up in Wheaton before he left a few days ago.”
Colt snuffed out his pipe and stood from the chair.
Owen’s chest tightened. “Are they looking for you?”
“I don’t know, but if they’re up this way, they’re liable to head here.” Amias looked around, then said, “Have you made your decision?”
“Yes.” Owen looked at Colt briefly, then at Amias, and said, “I’ll go, but after a night’s rest.”
Amias nodded. “Fine. Pack your things. We’ll leave at first light.”
Chapter 4
“Owen, wake up.”
When Owen opened his eyes, dim moonlight grazed the curtains, the breeze blowing them in. He jumped when he saw Amias beside his bed. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s time to go,” Amias whispered.
Owen sat up in bed slowly and rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hand. As he got to his feet, he instantly missed the warmth of his blankets. He dressed quickly, pulling on a cream-colored shirt and suspenders, then he tugged on his dark brown trousers and winter boots, which he hoped would last the journey, as the soles were wearing thin. Lastly, he pulled on a faded brown vest that had been Hale’s. Before he left the room, he grabbed his dark gray coat, suitable enough for cold nights, and the brown bag he’d packed the night before; it was full with clothes, a book, his journal, a quilt, a jar of salve, and a couple of apples.
When he came outside, the brush of twilight broke the night sky. The stars were dim, fading slowly away one by one. He had locked the windows and spruced up the rooms the night before, expecting to be back eventually. But as he locked the front door and placed his palm against the wood, an overwhelming sense of loss overcame him. Taking in a deep breath, Owen pulled his collar tight, slung his leather bag around his back, and stepped off the porch.
Amias and Colt waited for him near the cliff’s edge. Both of them stood tall and dark against the backdrop of the morning sky. Their bags were filled with carrots, raw greens, apples, nuts and biscuits from Owen’s kitchen, and deer jerky and oats from town. Owen noted the dirk Amias kept sheathed on his belt, and the wooden bow and quiver of arrows hooked onto Colt’s bag. His new companion also kept a wide sheath on his belt, which made Owen wonder what kind of blade it housed.
Owen fingered one of his larger filleting knives. Other than his pocket knife, it was the only weapon he had.
“Are you ready?” Amias asked.
Owen looked at him nervously and nodded. “Just wish I had something better than this.”
Amias hesitated, then he reached into his
coat. He came around with a hard leather sheath. “Here, you can carry this,” he said, holding it out. “Hopefully you won’t have to use it, but it should help some if we come across any wild animals.”
Owen glanced at him before taking it. The hilt was bound in black leather, but the style of the craftsmanship was of an older world. As he pulled it out, its sharp edge shone dimly in the twilight. The blade was as long as his forearm. The steel was of a yellow hue and had sharp ridges along one of its edges. Down the middle was a pattern of grooves engraved into the steel. It was a bit heavy, but when Owen gripped it tightly, the weight felt just right in his hand.
“It’s fascinating,” Owen murmured. “Where did it come from?”
“Well . . . I have been holding onto it for you. For a moment like this, I suppose. It belonged to your father.”
“Oh.” Owen’s jaw tightened. “Thank you.”
“I know how you feel about your father. I’ll understand if you don’t want it.”
“It’s fine.” Owen slid the dagger back into its sheath and cleared his throat. He cut his eyes to Colt, who busied himself throwing rocks off the side of the cliff to the beach below. Owen was still unsure of the man and his sour aura.
“And he’s going to protect us?” He nodded at Colt.
Amias smiled warmly, his honey-brown eyes tired in the growing light. “Yes, Owen. I assure you he’s skilled enough with a blade and bow should we come across any wild animals.”
With a heavy sigh, Owen turned his face toward the ocean. He trusted Amias with his life. “Give me a moment.”
After Amias left his side, Owen stood silent and still for a long moment. His gaze traced the shore of the beach and outlined the jagged rocks below that he had grown to love. To the north, the village glowed from the orange lights of lanterns hanging upon the doors. He closed his eyes against the breeze, taking in the sharp smell of salt and fish.
He would miss Hale and Milo the most. He wanted to give them a proper farewell, to tell them both he would not be back at all, but it was better this way.
“Arcan, give me strength this day,” he whispered. “Keep us safe on our travels.” He placed a closed fist to his forehead, then placed it over his heart to seal his prayer. Then he walked past Amias and Colt at a quick pace.
Beyond the Core (The Starborn Series Book 1) Page 5
