Gifted Stone (Souls Of The Stones) (3 page)

Of course he had hoped journeying with Lady Warren would be exciting, but he never would have guessed just how exciting it would be. A grin spread across his thin face as pride flushed through him. It was a good thing they’d brought him along; Garith never could have rescued Emariya without his help.

“Did you double-check that girth?” Garith asked as he loaded another sack onto a nearby packhorse.

Rink tried not to roll his eyes. “It’s tight—I made sure.”

Garith jerked his head in the direction of the path leading to the cave. “Go on, then. Take Raina up to Riya and wait there. I’ll bring the rest.”

Rink was about to protest, thinking he should take Jessa’s mount, too, so Garith wouldn’t have to handle too many, but he decided against it. He didn’t want to admit it, but he’d been worried when Garith had carried the unconscious Lady Warren out of that bastard Russell’s tent. It seemed like it had taken forever for her to wake, and he was eager to see with his own eyes that she was all right.

“C’mon, girl, we’ll go see Lady Warren,” he said to the horse, tugging on her reins to lead her toward the trail. His father had always said that when it came to horses, it was less a matter of telling them what to do and more a matter of convincing them they wanted the same thing as you.

His mood dampened as he thought of his father and the Separatists.

When his father had made him promise to do his best to help keep Lady Warren safe but never tell her about his past, Rink hadn’t suspected it would be so hard.

Making his way up the rock-lined path to the cave they’d used as shelter overnight, Rink contemplated telling Lady Warren about his father’s secret. The guilt over not telling her was eating him up inside. If he’d told her about the Separatists before, then perhaps she wouldn’t have fallen into their trap.

A raspy cough worked its way through his chest. He knew she’d only stopped because of him, which only made it worse that he hadn’t warned her.

Well, I didn’t know it was Separatists until after we were already in the camp. It’s not like they would have let us just leave, anyway,
he mentally scolded himself. Who was he fooling? Excuses wouldn’t ease his guilt. He needed to tell her the truth.

Rink set his jaw and looked to the top of the path. Leading the horse the last few steps, he took a deep breath, preparing to face whatever ire Lady Warren might have for him once he told her.

But for all his mental preparation, his intent was momentarily forgotten when he crested the top of the path to find only Lady Warren and Jessa waiting. His mouth gaped open in surprise. “Is Khane not here with you?”

“Wasn't he helping you ready the horses?” Jessa asked, “And what about Garith—he isn't here, either?”

“Garith's hitching up the packhorses; he'll be ready in a minute. But Khane said he was coming to help you two load up a few minutes ago. He shoulda been here by now.” Rink looked worriedly over his shoulder.

Emariya frowned. “All right, let’s load these packs, and then we'll go together to find him if he isn't here by the time Garith has the packhorses ready.”

Rink watched silently as Lady Warren crouched down to close her pack. The words he’d planned to say stuck in his throat. She already looked irritated.

There was no time like the present. Rink took a tentative step toward Lady Warren as she stood, brushing the dirt off her skirts. In one fleeting moment, her expression changed from annoyance to alarm. “Jessa!” she cried out.

Rink spun around just in time to see Jessa crumple to the ground.

Two men stood behind her, both poised for attack.

Fury welled in his chest as the man standing over Jessa’s motionless form lunged past Rink, reaching for Emariya. Determined to protect her, Rink tried to intercept the man’s charge, but the second, taller man lunged for him. Rink darted backwards. If he could circle closer to Emariya while remaining out of range of the man’s fists, he could get between her and the shorter opponent.

“Don’t touch her!” Rink yelled as the taller man sneered at him, blocking his view of Lady Warren.

Her frantic yell nearly sent him into a frenzy. “Let go of me! Put me down, I said!”

Rink could see by the determined scowl on the brute's face that the man had no intention of allowing Rink the freedom to assist Lady Warren. His only choice was to focus on the battle before him and pray that Khane or Garith would show up soon to help her.

As the man lunged again, Rink twisted, staying just out of reach. For a moment, Lady Warren was visible, being pulled quickly toward the path. He eyed the nearby rocks. If he could push the man over, it might buy him the time he needed to chase after her.

Frustration began to brew on his attacker’s rough face and his jabs became more disoriented and desperate.

“What’s a matter? Don’t like being bested by someone half your size?” Rink taunted with a grin.

The man seemed to pause, and it was the only invitation Rink needed. He crouched low and then burst forward, planning to use his momentum to propel the man over the edge.

At the last second, a flash of sunlight peeking through the ominous clouds revealed why the man had paused. He’d drawn a knife that was now arcing toward Rink’s chest with deadly intent.

It was too late for Rink to abandon his charge; he’d fully committed, and stopping wasn’t possible. Using all of his strength, Rink managed to jerk his upper body to the side just as the knife thrust forward.

Pain exploded in his shoulder as the blade found flesh, though fortunately not the flesh its master had intended.

Darkness surged over his eyes as a forceful hand slammed into his back, throwing him over the edge, just as he’d intended to do to the other man.

The form of his father floated just out of reach. Rink tried to blink, sure that his father couldn’t really be there with him, but blinking did nothing to interrupt his father’s disapproving scowl.

I told you to protect her!

“I tried,” Rink protested, but it sounded more like a whine than he intended.

Try harder.

“I should have told her the truth. Why did you make me lie?” Rink accused through dry, parched lips. A red tinge crept into the corners of his vision and heat washed over him.

He could almost be content with the heat if his throat weren’t so dry. Their journey had been quite cold, and the warmth was a welcome change.

On some level, he was aware that he was dreaming, just like on some level he knew that he needed to wake up.

A slamming door jerked him into awareness that he’d slipped into another dream.

This time, his father looked younger, and impossibly sad. Rink knew that look all too well. It was the look his father had worn the day he had come home after Rink’s mother had died.

Rink tried to squeeze his eyes shut. He didn’t want to see that haunted look on his father’s face. But it was no use; the memory wouldn’t fade.

For as long as he could remember, his father had spent weeks and months at a time away from their modest home. In his father’s absence, Rink took it upon himself to be the man of the house. He looked after his mother and sister, and the homestead as well.

But when his mother got sick, there was nothing he could do. He tried to ask himself what his father would have done had he been home, but no answers came. He couldn’t be sure, but he didn’t think his father would have known what to do, either.

Sosha huddled in a corner with her blanket and her bear, looking suddenly much younger. Rink had made her promise not to go to their mother, to stay in the corner, as far away from their ailing mother as possible. If their mother’s illness spread to Sosha…

He hadn’t even let Sosha say goodbye. Sometimes, he thought she blamed him for that, but that was all right. She could hate him for the rest of her life, as long as she continued to live.

Two days after their mother breathed her last breath he finally found the courage to build her a pyre. He and Sosha spent an entire day collecting whatever wood they could find. They knew they’d likely spend many nights without a fire to warm them if they used all the kindling, but they didn't care. Their mother at least deserved a proper farewell.

Two days later, they sat in the cold, dark room clinging to their memories for comfort. Sosha's tears had long since dried, and Rink's had finally stopped trying to fight their way free.

That night, as they sat at the table, the door suddenly burst open.

If there was one sight Rink would never forget, it was his father’s stricken face, just barely visible as he stood silhouetted in their open doorway.

“The pyre?”

“Mother.” Rink’s one word answer said it all.

His father crossed the room in three large strides and took Rink and his sister into his arms, holding them close.

As Rink watched, his sister melted into their father’s embrace and her face relaxed into a trusting peace. Rink couldn’t afford to be so eager. He forced himself to keep his guard up, breaking away. “How long are you here for?”

Regret flashed across his father’s face, confirming Rink’s suspicion. Rink glared and then turned away. But his father’s words surprised him. “I’m here for good. I’m not going anywhere.”

Shocked, Rink turned back to his father. “But you’ve always said the Separatists needed you more than we did. I thought you had to be with them in order to keep us safe?”

Roland sighed. “I believed that then—I did. But that camp is no place to raise your sister. It’s much more important that I keep the two of you safe than worrying about what may or may not come.”

They’d packed what little they owned into bags and had set out the next morning. His father had told him that they all deserved a fresh start where no one knew them, and where no one knew who he’d been. They hadn’t spoken of it again.

Or, at least, they hadn’t spoken of it until Lady Warren came to Calkirk.

In their time at Calkirk, Rink had finally begun to relax. His family was together again, and while he missed his mother, he was enjoying getting to know his father. And of course he was enjoying that Jocelynn almost always slipped him sweet treats when he passed through the kitchen.

The day his father had come to him in their little loft room above the stables, his face looked as if it had aged years in the last few hours. Without a word, his father walked slowly across the room and sat silently on the pallet bed beside Rink. He patted Rink’s knee with his weathered, work-hardened hands.

“Son, I couldn’t have saved your mother. Even had I been there, I couldn’t have changed it. Unfortunately, The Three saw fit to see you and your sister grow up without your mother. And…and I’m sorry for that. I truly am.”

“I know, Father.” Rink cocked his head to the side and looked at his father, wondering what had brought this on. “I don’t blame you for her passing.”

Roland gave a tired smile and nodded slowly. “Just listen, Rink. What I’m trying to tell you isn’t easy, and it’s important now.” His father paused for a long moment before continuing. “It isn’t my fault that you will grow up without your mother, but it is my fault that Lady Warren has grown up without hers.”

Rink’s mouth gaped open. “Lady Warren? You mean the guest here tonight from Warren’s Rest?” He didn’t understand.

Roland closed his eyes and sighed. “Yes, her mother died when she was only an infant, and she could have died that day, too. Do you remember me telling you about the Stones?”

“Yes, Father,” Rink said gravely.

“And that, as a Separatist, I helped make sure the Stones stayed separate?”

Rink nodded.

“I’ve regretted my past choices each day since I made them. Even then, I was starting to wonder if maybe Russell didn’t know as much about the Stones as he tried to make us believe.”

“Russell was the leader of you all, right?” Rink asked.

Roland confirmed it with a tight smile, and then continued his story. “We learned that a Stone from Sheas had come to Eltar, and we mobilized almost immediately. A few of the other men wanted to kill both Stones, but it was decided that Eltar’s future would be too unsteady if they lost their head Councilor. Lord Warren was rumored to be a good leader. So a small group drew Oren away from home, and Russell and I rode for Warren’s Rest to find the Roth girl, Valencia.”

“I tried asking Russell why we couldn’t just wait and see what would happen. The fighting between Eltar and Sheas had stopped, and they’d even opened a port. As far as I could see, their being together had made things better, not worse. Russell, though, he was adamant that it could not be allowed. He said it was only a matter of time, and that we’d all pay the price if they managed to have a child that could merge with the third line.”

A small sob escaped, and then his father continued while Rink listened, stunned.

“Russell sent me to check the rest of the house. I didn’t want to be there. She…she looked so innocent, yet so determined. There was a fire in her eyes. She knew where her fate lay. When I checked the kitchen, everything was immaculate, except for a spill of flour. It drew my eyes… I only suspected it then, but now I know. She’d hidden her children under the floor. Thank The Three I didn’t check further that day. I just didn’t want to know. If I’d found them, Russell would have made me… Well, it doesn’t matter now.”

Roland put his hand firmly on his son’s shoulder. “Rink, I can’t make up for that day, and if I told Lady Warren or Lord Calkirk what I did, they’d throw me in the dungeon—or worse. Sosha’d have no one then, you understand?”

“I won’t tell, Father,” Rink swore solemnly.

“But we have to help her, son. I owe it to her. I need you to go with her, be loyal to her, and, by The Three, protect her. I know it is a lot to ask, but will you do it?”