Garin could only grimace and scratch the back of his neck after Elita let out a frustrated huff. Luckily, it appeared as if the elf’s angry tirade hadn’t caused her to ruin the potion she was in the middle of concocting. Wooden bowls overflowing with dried leaves littered a makeshift table that had been erected within the largest building. Her fingers deftly gathered various herbs with a pinch and placed them in a marbled mortar. An iron kettle, filled with what he assumed was boiling water, was just within her reach.
He dropped his arms while his eyes scanned the gigantic circular room, observing the calm scurrying of the elves. The healers were about their work. While a couple of them were waiting for his half-sister to finish her brew, others were in process of mending a variety of wounds. Guilt flashed through his mind, especially since he had been told that two of the houses had burned down because of the quake. Minor injuries only, thank all that was Holy, but their problems were his fault.
As was the possible disappearance of Bran. Garin was only here because Tobias had mentioned that Mattie’s cousin was known to visit the encampment on a regular basis. When the thorough search of the estate hadn’t revealed the man’s whereabouts, Garin had immediately taken it upon himself to find their errant family member.
“I wish I could’ve warned you before you two had completed the spell,” said Garin at last. “She doesn’t have these moments often, but it can wreck havoc through the bond when she does.”
“As badly as what you unleashed today?” grumbled Elita as she produced a stone pestle from a nearby bag. The grinding she began to do was a little too energetic. “You knew, like I did, that she was going to face some huge emotional demons today. Why didn’t you prepare for it and block her with your usual need to keep everyone who gives a damn about you at arm’s length!?”
That last snapped question made Garin wince. A great deal of truth was found in his half-sister’s words. “Complicated.”
Elita snorted. “Finally had enough of your bullshit, did she?”
Mattie had definitely been a bad influence on his sister for the elf to readily curse like this! He ground his teeth for a moment, debating on how to respond to that snarky question. Luckily, a new distraction interrupted the potentially volatile conversation.
“Garn? Is that really you?” came a child’s tentative voice from behind him.
He turned and saw a pair of grey eyes staring up at him, widened as large as saucers. Three-year-old Lilium took a small step back when he went down on one knee to speak with her. He couldn’t help but release a sad sigh at her nervous reaction before he said, “Yes, young one. It’s me.”
She slowly approached him and cautiously touched the side of his head once she was close enough. Then he heard Elita swallow a chuckle when the girl sharply asked, “Where’s all your hair!?”
“An evil man stole it from me,” he gently explained. “But it will grow back out eventually.”
Lilium started to play with her own white strands. “He won’t come after mine, will he?”
“No, young one,” Garin said as he lifted his eyes and saw her father, Martius, rush into the building with an expression of fear on his face. “I can promise you that he won’t.”
Garin waved quickly at the worried elf, who noticed the movement immediately. Then there was nothing but relief on Martius’ face at the sight of his renegade daughter. Silver strands fell loose when he nodded appreciatively towards the man before he came over and scooped up Lilium.
After she squealed happily at being lifted high above his head, Martius situated her into the crook of his arm and said, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, child. This is not a good time of year for you to go wandering off.”
Garin’s brow furrowed at the elf’s words before he rose up and asked, “Except for the fact that winter’s nearly here, I’m not sure I understand the concern.”
Lilium squirmed a bit as she tried to see what some of the healers were doing, causing Martius to sling her over his shoulder. “She’s a Solstice Child like you, Garin,” explained the elf with a shake of his head. “As are all the other children who traveled here with us. It’s why so many families were more than willing to risk such an excursion.”
“That doesn’t clear anything up for me,” grumbled Garin as he turned to his sister.
“Just an old superstition,” said Elita with a shrug. “Similar to the reason Metis never wanted you in Arduenna around your birthday after that first year.”
“And hopefully it will remain a harmless precaution,” Martius said wistfully before he lifted his daughter into the air again. The fresh bout of laughter from Lilium caused everyone in the vicinity to smile at her. “Now to get this runaway back to her nerve-racked mother.”
Garin returned the grateful nod before Martius disappeared back outside with his daughter in giddy tow. All was fine until he noticed Elita playing with a strand of hair, that nervous tic of hers almost making him want to growl. “What was all that about Solstice Children?” he managed to calmly ask.
Frozen was the best description he had for his sister’s expression before she shook her head and said, “Nothing now that we’re in Crosshawk, little brother.”
“Now I know for certain that you’re hiding something because you called me that,” he grumbled.
After she placed two fingers over her mouth for a second, she said, “Not by choice. You know how that goes.”
Unfortunately, he knew full well how tightly an elf could keep a secret. “Fine,” he said with a growl. “I just came here looking for Bran anyways. Have you seen him?”
She frowned. “No, I haven’t. But our brother would know better than I if the man was about.”
Garin raised an eyebrow. “Crius? I hadn’t realized the two had become close.”
Elita nodded with a soft smile. “More than close. I suspect that they are stupid in love with each other, actually. Which is good because our brother’s almost back to his old self. The beating Iantha gave him still has him jumping at shadows from time to time, but Bran has been a blessing the past couple of months with helping Crius find new ground on which to stand.”
Garin only scratched the back of his head, pleasantly surprised at this impossible news. “After all these years,” he said with a grin. “You’re telling me that our strictly-flirtatious, never-wanted-to-commit brother has actually found someone who wasn’t just a dalliance? Someone he truly wants to spend more than a few days with?”
“Yes,” said Elita with a joyful laugh. “If for no other reason than that happy miracle, this move to Crosshawk was worth every damn risk we took.”
Hoping the saying about miracles never ceasing held true, Garin asked, “So where do you think I could find our reformed brother?”
“Not sure with everyone pitching in to help clean up your mess,” Elita said while giving him an uncomfortable and pointed look. “But you could try his home first. It’s the one closest to the Black Willow Forest.”
***
Turned out, it wasn’t on the outskirts of the encampment where Garin found Crius. Instead, the elf was within the middle of a group intent on important work, splitting boards of wood to replace the ones damaged in the quake. His leather-clad brother was shouting words of encouragement or instruction to the others, depending on the need. How they heard their former prince above the hammers and axes loudly thudding and the logs cracking was almost a miracle.
Garin paused for a moment, a grunt of surprise on his lips. Crius had been depressed and reclusive when last they saw each other, now he was in the thick of things again. The chalky paleness and emaciation had also vanished; both color and muscle had returned to the elf, the large axe being hefted and swung with ease. His black hair barely hit the top of his shoulders now; perhaps a drastic way to go about ridding himself of the mats that had once made massive nests in the long locks, but at least he cared about grooming himself again.
Elita had been right; Crius’ recovery over the past couple of months was nothing sho
rt of amazing! Sadly, there was no large man with red hair currently in sight. Perhaps this was a bad idea, given the fact that Bran obviously wasn’t here. The last thing his brother needed was a new worry potentially dragging him back down into a fresh depression. The decision to leave, however, was soon thwarted by Crius excitedly waving a hand towards his direction, indicating that his presence had been noticed. When the elf stuck the axe sharply into the log and then started to head his way, Garin couldn’t help but curse silently to himself.
The smile Garin managed to produce by the time Crius approached was on the forced side. While his brother wore a contagious grin and had a twinkle in his green eyes, there was no doubt that the elf had crawled himself out of hell. The faint scars on Crius’ face caused his features to appear less otherworldly and more human, but they also made him seem even more approachable than before.
Then an unexpected warm and brotherly embrace caused Garin a moment of shock! The two of them might have gotten along over the years, but they had never been close. The overture from Crius, while unusual, was obviously sincere. So after an awkward pause, Garin returned the gesture.
“To what do we owe our savior’s appearance today?” asked Crius after he had released his brother. A light and playful punch soon hit Garin’s shoulder. “Decided to join us in the minor rebuild?”
Though feeling partially confused at his brother’s newly found open attitude towards him, Garin managed to calmly say, “Sadly, no.”
Crius’ disappointment came in the form of a soft frown. “Pity. Any extra muscle would have been appreciated.”
“Can’t help but agree,” sighed Garin as he crossed his arms. If there weren’t a chance Elita would rat him out after he was gone, the temptation to keep the nature of his errand secret would have won. “Unfortunately, this was only the first stop on my search. Have you seen Bran?”
The corners of Crius’ mouth drooped even further while his brow furrowed. “Not today. Perhaps he went to check on his parents? That quake shocked the hell out of everyone, and he is rather close to his mother.”
The last person Garin ever wanted to see again was Henriella Brewer, despite the fact he had nearly promised the woman he would allow her to train him. It explained in part why his response came out as a frustrated grumble. “I had a feeling that the Pheasant was my next stop. He’s most likely there.”
“Most likely,” said Crius, sounding like he was trying to convince himself that everything was fine. The elf’s features hardened soon thereafter, the green eyes flashing with a protective fire. “But if he isn’t, you better come back and get me! There’s no way you’re not going to include me on a search for him.”
Garin gave his brother a sharp nod. “I swear to come back regardless and let you know whether he is there or not.”
Chapter 34
A crowd was starting to swarm the Silver Pheasant when Garin arrived at the inn. He had just enough presence of mind to move aside, his steps bringing him closer to five carts in the process of having horses hooked up to them. He took a quick glance at the small group nearby that was receiving some instructions from a stern-sounding George Avery. Recognizing the men within it, he decided to wait as even more bodies hurried by on their way into the tavern.
Once George had started to walk away after passing out signs to each man, Garin raised a hand and called for the one who might be able to help him the most, “Kelby!”
“Garin!” cried the giant of a man as he quickly left the group. “How is everyone at the estate after this morning’s upheaval?”
“Mostly good,” he responded, scratching the back of his head and trying his best not to look guilty. Especially since the others were approaching as well. “But it seems we can’t find your brother. Have you seen Bran?”
“Bran’s missing!?” asked a panicked Tucker, his shock freezing his advance in mid-step.
“You lost the right to express such concern years ago,” growled Kelby, the worry in his eyes replaced by rage in an instant.
“It won’t stop him from caring,” said a brown-haired man with a sigh as he placed a hand on the angry man’s shoulder.
Flynn shook his head before giving Garin an identity to the unfamiliar person when he grumbled. “You should know, Sven.”
Mattie’s past suitor just shrugged his shoulders, neither confirming nor denying the accusation. “I still wish for her happiness, Flynn. I knew for damn sure that she wasn’t going to find that with a humble scribe like me.” The man then looked at Garin and added, “I hope to hell it will be with you. After that show the other day, I think you are one of the few who could actually protect her like a husband should.”
Before Garin could respond to what he thought was an antiquated mindset, Tucker snickered, “She doesn’t need protecting, but he can definitely keep up with her.”
“I agree with that assessment,” said Kelby with a snort.
Garin’s eyebrows then shot up when Nikolas approached and tentatively said, “As do I.” The man then grimaced and blurted out, “I’m sorry about the other day, my lord. What Melker did was beyond rude, and I should never have been a party to it.”
“This lord prefers it if we call him by his first name,” chortled Flynn as he playfully punched Nikolas on the shoulder.
“True, I do,” said Garin, unsure about the change in demeanor. Perhaps this was what the Trygonne sisters had meant by Nikolas being a better person when away from the other troublemakers. Even with his doubts, he still said, “And apology accepted.”
The conversation was interrupted when eight men and women entered the stable yard. All had resolute expressions on their faces as they were ignoring an even larger group of people begging them for help. Garin’s brow furrowed at the commotion until Kelby excused himself and stepped forward.
“Leave these healers be!” he boisterously shouted, almost matching his father’s ability to bellow loud enough to be heard in a rowdy tavern. “They are here on the Duke’s orders! If you want an explanation, head into the Pheasant like all the rest. You’ll soon learn what the plans are.”
There were grumbles, but no one dared to argue with Kelby. The newcomers soon followed the rest of the crowd while the healers all looked relieved. Nikolas, Flynn, and Sven immediately began helping them onto four of the wagons, two healers within each one. Kelby crossed his arms and glared at Tucker until the man swiftly decided to join the others.
Garin pinched the bridge of his nose after Kelby muttered some rude descriptions under his breath. Of course, the drama in Crosshawk couldn’t be any less complex than it was elsewhere! “So, should I warn my brother, Crius, about that one?”
“Is that why Bran has been spending so much time at the encampment recently?” asked Kelby with a chuckle. “Actually, Diert and I could cause them more problems than Tucker ever would. Save for a few slips, like today, he keeps the past firmly in the past. Mainly because he won’t ever forgive himself for what happened.”
“Which was?”
“Taking advantage of my young brother and breaking his heart.”
Kelby’s sharp tone made Garin decide not to push for more of an explanation. Instead he went back to the topic that had brought him here in the first place. “Speaking of Bran, have you seen him? He disappeared shortly after the quake, making us think he might have come here to check up on his family.”
“I honestly haven’t seen him,” said Kelby with a frown. “But I was immediately pressed into service by Uncle Greg the second he got here. Also, Bran can be insanely stealthy when he wants and could have easily gotten past me during this mayhem. With hope, he’s in the Pheasant along with everyone else.”
***
Leaning towards the possibility of Bran being here under the category of “not”.
That was the conclusion Garin was swiftly heading towards. From the topmost step allowing him a wide and clear view of the tavern below, he counted himself lucky to have nudged a path to this last available spot. All doors and windows were o
pen because the Silver Pheasant was bursting at the seams from the sheer number of residents in attendance—found both outside and within the building’s walls.
By all that was Holy, he had no idea this many people actually lived within the duchy! No wonder the tavern had seldom been empty during all his visits! Then he let out a quiet sigh as he temporarily admitted defeat in his task. Despite the surprising amount of red-haired and muscular men standing about, none of them were Mattie’s cousin.
Then his brow furrowed when he realized a few others were also missing. Dierthelm was nowhere to be seen, but the giant of a man could have easily been pressed into service elsewhere. The fact that Melker, Johann, and Adler were noticeably absent from this meeting began to trouble him. They were sons of landholders, after all. Though not lords, they should have behaved just as concerned for their community as if they were.
While Garin’s eyes continued to search the multitude because he wasn’t quite ready to give up on Bran yet, Lord Gregory was standing on a table in the middle of the large room as the crowd pressed in. Nearly all the members of the throng shouted and screamed about various damages the quake had caused. Thaddeus Brewer was in the corner, obviously jotting down the needs and grievances being angrily conveyed. Garin was impressed with his father-in-law. The man was managing to sound both commanding and calm, projecting his voice clearly over all other conversation.
“Once again!” bellowed Crosshawk’s Duke at last. “Healers have been sent to the chapel, including those willing to rush to the homes where the wounded cannot be safely moved. Minor cuts and burns should be bandaged up as best as possible for now until the more gravely wounded have been tended. For those who need immediate help, five wagons will be leaving here in ten minutes. One will be heading straight for the healers, and I want any who can Shadow Jump to go and assist them in traveling to the wounded who cannot wait! The others will each head in one direction from this location to help retrieve the injured—east, west, north, and south. While they are carrying signs indicating their assigned locations, the drivers will have no qualms telling you in which direction they are heading. These injured people are a priority, and they have waited for help long enough! The wagons will leave in ten minutes!”
Unraveled Homecoming Page 24
