Aerenden: The Child Returns (Ærenden) (23 page)

“I
know you must be tired,” the woman addressed Meaghan and Nick, “but it’s been a
long time since we’ve had company. I hope you’ll sit with us for a while.”

“We
can spare an hour,” Nick said, “but then we’ll need to sleep before we travel.”

Faillen’s
wife smiled in gratitude and extended a hand to him. “I’m Iria, but people call
me Ree. Our eldest son is Caide, as I’m sure you heard. And I trust you’ve
already learned Faillen and Aldin’s names?”

“We
have,” Nick responded, shaking her hand. “I’m Nick.”

“It’s
a pleasure,” she said, releasing his hand and then cast a smile in Meaghan’s
direction. “And of course, I know your name, Queen Meaghan. It’s rumored the
name belonged to one of the first Queens of these lands. I don’t think it’s
been used since then, but it suits you.”

“Thank
you,” Meaghan replied, grimacing at the sound of her formal title. “But please just
call me Meaghan. I’d rather not use formalities.”

“All
right,” Ree agreed, and then gestured toward the chairs at the table. “Please
sit. I made a fresh pie yesterday, and I suspect we need to talk about a few
things.”

“I
have questions,” Nick confirmed. “If you’re comfortable answering them.”

“We’ll
hide nothing from you,” she responded. Moving to the cupboard, she opened it
and took out a pie, setting it on the high table. Dark red berries poked
through the latticework crust and Meaghan felt her mouth water at the sight of
them.

“As
soon as the boys have had their pie,” Faillen added. “They’ll go out to play
after.”

Nick
nodded in agreement, and as soon as the kettle heated, they sat at the table,
enjoying their tea and pie. Caide and Aldin devoured theirs within minutes and
excused themselves to play.

“Stay
within the boundaries,” Faillen reminded them, and then put a hand on Aldin’s
shoulder, halting him before he could dart out the door. Faillen dropped his
voice, a stern tone indicating his sincerity. “Aldin, have you learned your
lesson from today?”

Aldin
bounced his head in a pronounced nod, his eyes wide.

“Speak
the words, son.”

“I
won’t leave the boundary without your permission.”

“You
were lucky today. Remember that. You won’t get lucky twice.”

Aldin
nodded again and Faillen removed his hand. Free, the boy followed his brother
out the door, slamming it behind him.

“The
children won’t hear us now,” Faillen said as he turned back to the table.
Though his pie remained half-eaten on his plate, he pushed it aside. For a
moment, silence filled the room as the mood shifted. No one touched their mugs
or forks while they waited for the serious conversation to start. Finally,
Faillen addressed Nick. “Tell us what happened today.”

Nick
detailed Aldin’s rescue, leaving nothing out. When he finished, Ree’s soft
cries had subsided. She wiped tears from her cheeks as Faillen sat stone still
beside her. He drew his eyes to Nick’s. Any distrust he had harbored before had
been erased.

“Thank
you,” he said. “Though I expressed my appreciation before, I admit I hadn’t
truly considered what you’d done for my boy. Since we moved here, he’s been a
handful. There isn’t much space for him. If you hadn’t come along,” his voice
trailed off as he dropped his gaze to the table. He flattened his hands on top
of it and Ree took one of them into her own, intertwining their fingers.

“We
owe you so much,” she said. “I don’t know how we can repay you.”

“It’s
not necessary,” Nick said. “And frankly, Meaghan is the only one who deserves
your gratitude, though I do regret my actions. I didn’t think either of them
would live.”

Meaghan
sensed a touch of anger from Ree toward Nick, but Faillen did not hold the same
emotion.

“You
shouldn’t regret what you did,” he told Nick. “Though I’m grateful you didn’t
succeed in your attempt, you were right to try to protect your Queen. I
would’ve acted the same way in your position. Much hinges on her survival, but
what you couldn’t have known is much hinges on Aldin’s survival too.”

“I
know that now,” Nick said. “He’s a Spellmaster?”

“Yes,”
Faillen confirmed.

“He’s
young to have developed his power. It usually doesn’t show up until age ten or
so. And in his case, I thought,” Nick hesitated, and Meaghan realized he was
not certain how to finish his sentence without offending their hosts.

“He
shouldn’t have a power,” Faillen finished for him. “Or if he did, it should be
weak. We’ve fostered that fable with the southerners,” he admitted. “But some
of us have stronger powers. We just don’t covet them the way you do. They get
in the way, so we avoid using them.”

“Do
you have powers?” Nick asked him.

“No.”
Faillen stood to retrieve the kettle and returned to the table with it. He
refilled each of their mugs before sitting back down. “Ree and I don’t, but
Ree’s mother had the power to become invisible. Her grandmother came from
across the border, as others have done throughout the centuries. We suspect
they’ve polluted our gene pool, if you’ll forgive the expression.”

Nick
chuckled. “I think that’s an acceptable way of putting it. When did Aldin start
using his power?”

“Two
months ago. He wanted a toy on a shelf in the sleeping hut and he couldn’t
reach it. He recited a rhyme and it floated into his hands. Last month, he was
playing with a frog and it exploded. We grew concerned and made him promise he
wouldn’t use his power again. He kept his promise until today.”

Meaghan
picked up her mug, blowing steam from it before taking a sip. Something felt
wrong to her and she could not quite place it, so she studied Faillen over the
rim of her mug while she sorted her thoughts. The emotions she sensed seemed
buried, so it took her a moment to recognize them as guilt and embarrassment,
and to understand they did not come from Faillen, but from his wife. Meaghan
diverted her attention to Ree.

“You
seem ashamed of Aldin’s power,” she said.

Ree
gripped her own mug as her eyes widened. “I forgot,” she said. “You can tell
what I feel.”

“Yes,”
Meaghan said. “Why are you ashamed of it?”

“I
love Aldin,” Ree said, nearly pleading. “I love him no matter what he does.”

“No
one doubts that,” Faillen said. He circled his arm around her waist and drew
her close, kissing her on the temple before addressing Meaghan’s question. “You
have to understand that things are different for us in Zeiihbu. As I said,
these powers aren’t coveted. They’re considered a disability best kept hidden,
but Aldin’s isn’t so easy to hide.” He paused. Lifting his mug to his lips, he
took a gulp from it. “My words must appall you.”

“They
don’t,” Nick said. “I’ve been raised to understand your culture is different
and to respect it. I can understand your position given that, but the
Spellmaster power shouldn’t be taken lightly or prevented from maturing. It’s
rare, maybe the rarest power alive today, and once Aldin gains full control
over it, he’ll be able to do a tremendous amount of good.”

“I
know.” Faillen lowered his mug and his eyes to the table. “I understand its
value. But to us, it’s a curse. The Mardróch hunt our family. As a result,
we’re forced to live here, in fear and near captivity, instead of living in our
homeland. Even Zeiihbu suffers because of the power. Garon has stationed
Mardróch guards everywhere. They loot and kill as they see fit, holding our
citizens captive to their evils and whims. They’re slowly destroying us and our
way of life.”

“I’m
sure that was part of Garon’s plan well before Aldin was born,” Nick said.
“Garon has never liked Zeiihbu.”

“I’m
sure you’re right,” Faillen conceded, though Meaghan sensed doubt and deceit in
him. The deceit was minor, so she did not press an explanation for it.

“I
don’t mean to sound ungrateful,” Faillen continued. “I understand the need for
the Spellmaster power, but I fear my country will suffer until the power fully
develops. I don’t want that for my people.”

“I
understand,” Meaghan said, setting her mug down. “Garon has destroyed many
lives, but we’ll have retribution for what he’s done. Your son’s power, though
shameful to Zeiihbu now, will bring honor in time.”

Faillen
met the determination in her eyes with equal conviction. “It’s important for
your family to be restored,” he said. “Your mother brought Zeiihbu a peace it
hadn’t seen in generations and I want to see that returned. Will you honor the
treaty she and my father signed together?”

“I
will,” Meaghan promised. “And I won’t forget your loyalty.”

Faillen
nodded, and then reached his hand across the table, palm down, fingers splayed.
“A Zeiibuan custom,” he told her, “to seal the promise we’ve made today.”

She
mimicked his gesture. He interlocked their fingers so they both had fingertips
above each other’s knuckles and then brought his other hand on top of their
intertwined hands. She did the same.

“From
my lips to the death,” he said. “Please repeat it.” She did and he smiled,
releasing her hand. “A new pact for a new day."

Meaghan
leaned back, returning the smile, and then picked up her mug again, resting her
elbows on the table as Nick addressed Faillen. “Before the new day can start, we
need to ensure your family remains safe. Who else knows you’re here?”

“A
Guardian named Cal,” Faillen responded. “Do you know him?”

“I’ve
known him most of my life. He’s trustworthy.”

Faillen
nodded. “He helped set us up here and he provides supplies we can’t make, grow,
or hunt. He also gives Aldin lessons for his power.”

“Good,”
Nick said. The news brought relief to his face, but something in Faillen’s
statement troubled Meaghan. She sipped from her mug again as she mulled over
his words.

“Who
else knows?” Nick asked.

“There
was another man by the name of Delvin,” Faillen said. “A Guardian Cal brought
to live in the third hut. He left to get supplies one day and never returned.
Cal found his body a few miles from here.”

“The
Mardróch got him?”

Faillen
looked away as remorse washed over him. “We believe so. Cal said it was evident
by the level of torture on his body that he kept our location secret. No one
else knows we’re here, not even my father. When the power surfaced and I
realized the danger in it, I contacted Cal. I had met him several times when my
father and I visited the castle during the good days and I understood his power
and loyalty to be strong. He agreed to help and brought us here. He only told
Delvin and since his death, Cal is afraid to trust anyone else.”

“That’s
wise,” Nick said. “Cal will protect you and so will I, if you need me.”

“Thank
you. I’ll remember that.” Faillen stood. “You should sleep. We’ll wake you for
dinner. There’s fresh venison prepared to roast and vegetables ready for
harvest.”

“That
sounds wonderful,” Nick said and rose from his chair, but Meaghan remained seated
as Faillen’s words finally settled into understanding. Cal brought them what
they could not grow. Grow. The garden. She realized the source of his deceit.

“The
vegetables are ready for harvest?” she asked. “They shouldn’t be.”

Shame
washed over Faillen and he sat down again.

“You
said Aldin only started using his power two months ago. Your garden shouldn’t
be ready yet.”

Faillen
looked away.

“What
are you hiding?”

“I’m
not surprised Aldin’s powers appeared so early,” Faillen said. He brought his
eyes to hers and the pain in them matched what she felt from him. It seemed his
wife was not the only one ashamed of their son’s predicament. “It probably
would have taken longer if he didn’t know it could be done, but he’s fearless
and he’s always accomplishing things earlier than most kids. I think it’s
because he likes to mimic what his brother does.”

“Caide,”
Nick whispered, understanding what Faillen meant before Meaghan did.

“Yes,”
Faillen admitted. “Caide is a Spellmaster too.”

N
ICK’S SKIN
poured sweat despite the chill in the air. He threw the pelt off his body and
sat up, but the sweat still came, as did the panic driving his heart into
frantic beats. He could not make the scene from this morning stop playing in
his head.  He could not stop seeing the Mardróch in the field as they bore
down on Meaghan, as they attacked her with lightning, barely missing her as she
ran. He could not stop seeing her fear and feeling his own as he remained
frozen and helpless, watching her die. Not her, he realized as he turned his
head to confirm. She lay motionless on a straw mattress across the room, a pelt
covering her breathing body.

Her
breathing body, he repeated, and drew a deep inhale. She still lived.

It
was not her he had watched die. Her face had dissolved into another’s in his
mind and it froze him in his tracks, froze him in his memory when she needed
him most. It tore at him that it had happened. He had let her down, but he
would not let it happen again.