Aerenden: The Child Returns (Ærenden) (19 page)

“Communication
starts with me,” he said and took her hands in his. “I’ve built distrust in you
since we arrived here and I apologize. You need to ask questions, and I need to
keep a promise I made our first night here. I need to answer those questions.”
He took a deep breath. “What do you want to know first?”

Meaghan
sat back. Wrinkles formed between her eyebrows as she pulled them together. “I’m
not certain where to start.”

“If
you don’t feel ready, we can wait.”

She
shook her head. “It’s not that. I’m not sure if I am or not, but you’ve been
avoiding this conversation for a reason. Why don’t you think I’m ready for the
answers?”

“It’s
not you,” he confessed, then sighed. “It’s me who isn’t ready. I want to
protect you.”

“That’s
your job, isn’t it?”

“Physically,
but not in the way I am. You know I care about you. I won’t deny it. And the
answers I have for you will make your life difficult. The responsibility you’ve
been given, that I have to give to you, is a lot to bear. I wanted to keep you
free of that for as long as possible.”

She
inclined her head. “You think I can’t handle it?”

“Not
at all. It’s…” he shook his head. Standing, he walked to the fireplace, and
then leaned a hand against the mantel as he studied the flames. “It will change
things for you,” he turned to face her, “and for us.”

“I’m
not sure I understand.”

“I
know,” he said. Tucking his hands into his pockets, he stared toward the window,
his eyes unseeing as his mind worked to tell her the truth he wished more than
anything was not true. “Cal told you he guarded the King,” he started and
forced his eyes to hers. She nodded. “My mother guarded the Queen. They were
both at the castle the day Garon’s rebellion took place. Neither of them likes
to talk about what happened, but I’ve heard enough. Garon formed an army of
Guardians bent on taking control, Guardians who’d been banished for their
crimes. They were thieves, murderers, even people who’d tried to overthrow the
monarchy in the past. Garon had a Spellmaster design a spell to convert his
army’s powers into something stronger, something he felt would be unstoppable,
and then he killed the Spellmaster to ensure a counter spell couldn’t be written.”

“The
Mardróch,” Meaghan realized.

“They
weren’t his intent, but their powers are unnatural. Since powers are part of a
person, the spell not only twisted their magic, but it also twisted what was
left of their humanity.”

“Couldn’t
someone else write a spell to stop them?” she asked.

“Only
a Spellmaster can give words the power to work as a spell. Garon killed the
last known Spellmaster. If a new one has been born, he or she hasn’t exhibited
the ability yet.”

“What
do you mean? Aren’t people born with their powers?”

“They
are, but powers lie dormant until children can handle them. Active powers,
those that can be used as weapons, usually don’t show up until children are at
least eight. A six-month-old Firestarter would be a disaster, for instance, so
that power doesn’t usually appear until children can understand the damage they
cause when they set fires. Powers like yours and mine show up earlier. They’re
considered passive. They can’t cause any physical damage and having them at an
early age helps us adapt to them.”

“Does
it?” she asked, a wry smile crinkling the corners of her lips.

He
chuckled. “You’re not used to having your full power, but yes, it does. If you
hadn’t been able to use your power on Earth, you would’ve had more trouble
understanding what you’re sensing now. You wouldn’t be able to translate other
people’s feelings or separate them from your own. As far as controlling your
power, you’ll learn in time.”

“Let’s
hope so,” she said. “I have more questions about powers, but I think I’ll reserve
those for another day. For now, I’d like to hear more about Garon’s attack, if
you don’t mind.”

“Of
course.” A log popped in the fireplace, scattering sparks over the floor, and
Nick turned to draw a screen across the hearth. “The Mardróch used lightning to
breach the castle walls,” he said, facing Meaghan again. “The stone bricks were
thick, and their collapse killed many, including the Queen. She died in her
living quarters. The King died in the throne room, by Garon’s hand.”

Meaghan
paled. “The walls fell in first,” she said. “Then the smoke came, and the
lightning.”

“It
would appear that way from inside the castle. That’s from one of your dreams,
isn’t it?”

She
nodded. “The one with the fire, right before the man rescued me.”

“Miles,”
Nick told her. “He protected the Queen’s sister. He’s one of the Elders now.”

“I
remember the woman saying his name. The woman,” Meaghan closed her eyes,
holding back tears, “with the red hair. That was Mom. Vivian,” she corrected.

“Yes,
it was.” He crossed the room. Pulling her to her feet, he drew her into his arms.

“You
knew. Every time I told you about my nightmare. Every time I wondered why it
kept coming back to me, you knew the reason.” She pushed away from him. “Why
didn’t you tell me?”

“Would
you have believed me?”

“I
trusted you. I would have believed you.” He raised an eyebrow, and she sighed.
“In the same way I believed you about this world at first,” she conceded. “How
old was I when that happened?”

“Two.”

“So
if I was in the castle, I’m either the child of a Guardian or part of the royal
family.”

“You
don’t have Guardian powers,” Nick pointed out.

“And
Neiszhe didn’t curtsy for you, so I’m royalty. What am I to the King and
Queen?”

Nick
hesitated, but he could not avoid the truth any longer.

“Nick?”

“You’re
their daughter.”

She
stared at him. Her mouth opened, closed, then opened once more before she
forced out a whisper. “Are you saying I’m a princess?”

“No.”
He took her hand in his. “I’m not. I’m saying to anyone who doesn’t recognize
Garon’s rule in this kingdom, you’re our Queen.”

T
HE AIR
grew cold. It hung thick and raw, nipping at Meaghan with sharp ice teeth that
turned her skin red. She pulled her cloak tight, grateful Nick had thought to
get one for each of them before they had left the village. The thick wool
blocked some of the air, warming her skin, though she wished it would do the
same for her mind.

They
had been walking since the sun fell below the horizon. The moon failed to show
its face, leaving only a few brave stars for guidance through the ominous dark.
The night stretched out somber before them, its stillness broken only by the
occasional reprieve of a songless bird, its soft feathers rustling through the
tar black sky. Animals skulked in the shadows, watching them with amber eyes
that glinted as she and Nick passed. Their unblinking surveillance seemed to
warn of a perilous future, and Meaghan heeded the warning, taking tentative
steps to maintain the quiet commanded by the sleeping earth.

Though
darkness provided their journey some cover, the fields left them vulnerable for
miles, visible to any who wanted to seek them out. The thought tensed her
muscles and locked her words into shallow whispers spoken out of strict
necessity. Hours stretched silence between her and Nick. Hours in which she had
time to focus on the single word numbing her mind.

Queen
.

The
word carried a weight she had never felt before. She knew nothing of this
kingdom, nothing of its practices, its people, its laws, and yet, she had
become its leader. The absurd notion poised another argument in her mind for
the abolition of monarchies. A leader should have experience and knowledge, age
and wisdom. She had none of those things. Her leadership experience extended
only to a handful of club offices she had held in high school and a one-time
stint as a camp counselor two summers ago. Her knowledge of this world extended
to half a week of detrimental days in which survival counted more on luck than
expertise.

Cal
would have made a better choice to lead, or even Nick, despite his young age,
could have done a better job. But because she shared the genetics of the people
who had previously run the kingdom, she now owned the responsibility.

She
supposed it would have made sense if her parents had raised her. If she had had
the luxury of watching them rule every day of her life, of learning from their
experiences, she could see taking the role.

But
she had never had the chance. She had never known that life or her birthright.
Removed from the world well before she could remember living on it, she felt like
she belonged in the kingdom as much as she belonged on Mars.

It
did not seem fair to the people who looked to her for leadership, and because
her adoptive mother—her true mother—had raised her to do the right
thing, she knew she had to convince Nick of that fact. If she could convince
him she did not belong as Queen, he could convince the Elders. Together, they
could figure out a way to replace her.

“Are
you okay?”

Nick’s
question broke through her reverie and she focused her mind again on their
surroundings. They walked along the edge of a small cropping of trees, an oasis
in the near endless field. He stopped and she did the same.

“Meg,
I asked if you were all right.”

She
nodded in answer, and then turned her gaze toward the horizon. The sun had
begun to rise, streaking the sky with pockets of deep red and orange. The
surreal scene felt too peaceful for the turmoil within her.

Nick
took a step toward her. She returned her eyes to him. “Do you realize I’ve been
talking to you?”

“I….uh,”
she hesitated. “No. What did you need?”

“Food
and shelter,” he said, adjusting the backpack on his shoulders. He nodded
toward the trees beside them without removing his focus from her. “I was saying
this might be a good place to set up for the day.  It will be bright soon.
And Meg,” he lowered his voice when she trailed her eyes away again. “I think
it’s time for us to finish our conversation.”

“There’s
nothing left to discuss.”

“There
is. I know you’re upset with me. That was obvious when you refused to continue
talking yesterday, but you can’t ignore this.”

“I’m
not upset with you. It’s a lot to accept.”

“It
is,” he agreed, “and I don’t mean to sound callous, but you don’t have a
choice. You can’t change who you are. Did you sleep at all?”

She
shook her head. “I couldn’t.”

“I
didn’t think so. You need sleep, so we’ll definitely stop here. You can take
the first sleeping shift.”

“Fine,”
she conceded to the stop, but she did not feel settled by his decree. “I don’t
understand why I don’t have a choice in this though. The idea of me being
royalty is,” she paused, searching for the right word and then decided to call
it as she saw it, “absurd. I don’t belong here.”

“Absurd,”
Nick echoed, his voice taking on a chill she had not expected. “We have
different views on that, but we’ll discuss it after we eat. And we
will
discuss it,” he said, holding her with a firm gaze that curbed her instinct to
argue. “You’ve been distracted all day and it’s not safe. We need to get this
out of the way so you can stay focused.”

He
turned from her and started walking again. She followed, resuming her silence.
Although the trees covered no more than an acre, their dense canopy provided
enough coverage to keep them out of sight for the day. Nick threaded his way
through the small forest until he found a patch of land clear enough to allow
them to set up camp. He eased the backpack from his shoulders, and then dug a
hole using a stick. Within the hole, he built a fire. Meaghan removed the
blanket from the backpack and spread it out in front of the fire.

“I’ll
find something to eat,” Nick told her when she sat down on the blanket. “Wait
here, okay?”

She
nodded and he disappeared into the trees. Crossing her legs in front of her,
she stretched her hands toward the fire. As her muscles warmed, they relaxed
and she struggled to ignore the tiredness tugging at her eyelids. She tried to
stay awake by outlining the conversation she wanted to have with Nick. When she
had told him how she felt about her leadership role, his anger had surprised
her, but she knew him well enough to convince him of her feelings if she
approached it the right way. She only had to figure out what approach would
work best. She stared at the fire, at the wisps of smoke it created, and drew
her knees up to her chin. She felt too weary to think straight, so she allowed
the flames to lull her into calm.

The
fire’s steady flickering took on a deeper glow as it feasted on the fallen
limbs Nick had used for fuel. A chilling breeze reached through the forest, and
Meaghan tightened her arms around her legs. The smoke grew thicker, and then a
log popped. Sparks scattered toward her, dying before they reached the blanket.
The fire flared, jumping a foot higher into the air and Meaghan almost did the
same. She scrambled to her feet, yanking the blanket away from the fire before
another shower of sparks spread across the ground.