Into the Wind (11 page)

Other than some berries they found on their way and some shrimp they found in a brackish stream near the campsite, they had nothing left to eat and nothing to keep them warm but the clothes on their backs.

“How often do you come here?” Taren asked as they settled down to sleep on a bed of moss.

“I’ve only been once.”

“When Odhrán brought you?” Taren pressed.

Brynn bit his lower lip. “No. I came to explore and I….”

“And Odhrán found you.” In spite of his exhaustion, Taren had noticed they’d circled several times before Brynn had decided on a direction in which to lead them.

“Aye.” Something in Brynn’s gaze told Taren Brynn hadn’t easily escaped Odhrán’s clutches.

“Why did he let you go? You knew how to find him. For someone who doesn’t want to be found, it seems unlikely.”

“I told you,” Brynn said with obvious irritation, “I work for him now.”

“Perhaps you do.”

“Perhaps?” Brynn was indignant. He sat up and scowled at Taren.

“Or perhaps you have no idea where to find him.” Taren crossed his arms over his chest and watched Brynn with careful attention. He suspected something else, in fact, but he’d not let on. At least not yet.

“Of course I know where to find him. He’s here, on this island.”

“I don’t doubt that he’s here.” That much made sense. Taren couldn’t have imagined a better stronghold than this unforgiving island. “But if you know where he is, why have we been walking around in circles for the better part of a day?”

“We have not.”

“My sense of direction is not as poor as you think, whelp.” Taren couldn’t help but laugh at the look of righteous anger on Brynn’s face. “Fess up. You came here, but you didn’t find him, did you?”

“I—”

“He found
you
.”

Brynn glanced around them, studying the trees, the underbrush, and the dirt beneath their feet as if they held great interest for him. “It… it’s not what you think. I
do
work for him. I swear it!”

“If you work for him, why would you lead me to him? Even assuming you know how to find him.” Taren waited patiently.

“I… well… it’s a bit complicated.”

“Aye,” Taren said with a chuckle. “I believe that. What I want to know is why I shouldn’t cancel our bargain.” When Brynn looked back at him without understanding, Taren added, “I was to pay you to lead me to him.”

Brynn fidgeted beneath Taren’s gaze. “You shouldn’t cancel it,” he blustered. “I’ll give you what you want. I—”

“Why should I believe you? You clearly don’t know how to find him. You may know he’s here, but even a fool can tell we’re lost. I might as well look for him myself.” Taren watched as Brynn squirmed a bit more.

“I….” Brynn paused, his shoulders drooping under the weight of Taren’s words. “Yes. You’re right. I don’t know how to find him.”

“Now we’re making headway.” Taren fingered the necklace of stones and shells Brynn had so obviously been eyeing since they’d left on their journey.

Brynn said nothing but shifted his gaze once more and chewed his lower lip.

“Tell me the truth, or I go look for Odhrán without your help,” Taren pressed.

“I… ah… well, you see…,” Brynn stammered.

“He told you to bring me here, didn’t he?”

Brynn opened his mouth as if he were about to speak, then closed it again and nodded.

“Good.”

“But aren’t you afraid he’ll kill you?” Brynn asked, eyes wide with surprise.

“Of course I am.” Taren saw no reason to be anything but honest. “But he may know where I can find something very important.”

“What’s so important that you’d risk your life?”

“I told you before. Our bargain doesn’t include sharing my secrets.” Taren smiled at Brynn.

“Does that mean we still have a bargain?” Brynn appeared buoyed to hear this.

“Aye. Take me to where they found you the last time. Assuming you can find it again,” Taren added with a chuckle.

“I can find it. We’ve been there already. The clearing where we found the berries, near the top of the cliffs.” Brynn cocked his head to one side and offered Taren a flirtatious smile. The boy was incorrigible! If Brynn made it back alive, Taren would make sure he found a better life than the one he had now.

N
IGHT
FELL
with no sign of the pirates. As his stomach growled in protest, Taren considered leaving Brynn to fish in his Ea form but decided against it. If Odhrán was here, he wouldn’t risk being separated from Brynn. If tomorrow passed with no more sign of the pirate or his men, Taren would leave the island and find Ian and the
Phantom
.

As it began to rain, Taren lay next to Brynn under the impromptu shelter they had crafted from tree branches and leaves. Brynn shivered but did not move to close the gap between them and take advantage of Taren’s warmth. Taren wondered what might have happened to cause Brynn to fear the touch of another person, though he could well imagine the reason. How strange that one moment Brynn was offering Taren his body and the next he was pulling away.

Taren repressed a sigh, then pulled off his shirt and laid it over Brynn’s bare chest. It wasn’t much, but Brynn would be a bit warmer, at least. Taren closed his eyes and thought of Ian.

Ten

T
AREN
DREAMED
he’d been swimming for days. Or was it weeks now? It could have been. He’d long since lost track of time. He’d eaten little since he left Ea’nu, but his stomach had ceased its weak protests days ago. He’d live long enough without food to do this thing. After that….

Owyn. You told me to live so that I might help our people. You didn’t tell me I’d live so long without you.

He was so tired.

“Just a bit longer, beloved Treande, and we’ll be together. I promise.”
He heard Owyn’s voice as if he were swimming beside him.

I’ll hold you to that promise.
Treande smiled.

When the priestess, Aerin, paid a call to the tiny hut where he’d made his home since he’d led the Ea to the island nearly two hundred years before, he’d been surprised. He hadn’t seen her in at least a century. She’d insisted on remaining on the mainland, watching over the last of Owyn’s kin who’d stayed behind as sentinels to warn their people should the humans once again become a threat.

“You didn’t think you could hide forever, did you?” she’d asked as she walked in uninvited.

“I wasn’t hiding from you.”

She watched him through narrowed eyes for a moment, then laughed and said, “No. I suppose not. But you hide from them.”

He knew she meant the island’s other inhabitants. She was right. He
was
hiding from them. He’d been hoping to fade from the islanders’ collective memory now that the new temple had been built.

“It’s high time they moved on,” he said as he sat heavily on the wooden stool in the corner by the fireplace. There was no fire burning there, but Treande caught the scent of charred pine and inhaled deeply. The smell reminded him of his days at the temple with Owyn at his side.

“They’re restless. They have no purpose now that the temple’s been built.” She sat in his only chair and crossed her legs beneath her. She’d been young when they’d left the mainland; she’d begun her studies with Owyn ten years before he’d been killed. She was far more powerful now; he could feel her gift radiate from her. It was a calm, steady sensation, much like the feel of the wind on his face when he stood at the edge of the water.

“What do you want?” he asked.

Aerin laughed again. “Too old for niceties, I see.”

“Yes.”
Old and tired. Ready to move on from this life.
“Might as well say it and be done with it, woman. I’m too old to wait around for you to speak your mind.”

“The goddess has shown me the future,” she said slowly, watching him for his reaction.

“Another prophecy?” He sighed. If he’d learned one thing about the goddess’s will, it was that she demanded much of him.

“Call it what you will.”

He let out a slow breath and said, with as much patience as he could muster, “What does she ask of me?”

“One last undertaking,” she replied.

“And then?”

She pursed her lips and her gaze met his. “What do you wish?”

He stood up and looked out the small window toward the water. How long had it been since he last transformed? His human body ached when he moved; his joints expressed their displeasure. The pain would pass temporarily, at least, if he transformed, but he no longer found pleasure in the water. “Peace.”

“Then perhaps you shall find it.”

“What must I do?”

Now, as he swam, he reached up and touched his hand to the sharp-edged dark stone around his neck.
Better a noose than this horrible thing.
He’d hesitated to take the rune stone when Aerin had held it out to him and explained that the last of Owyn’s relatives had died and there was no one else left to guard it. He’d only taken it when she’d told him the goddess wished it hidden away.

“For what purpose must I hide it?” he’d asked.

“Only the goddess knows the future, Treande,” she had said.

As Taren swam, the tenor of his dream changed. He was near a sandy shore now—his destination? Was he to take the stone to this island? Old Aerin had said nothing about what he should do with it or how he might keep it safe. He transformed back into his human shape as he reached the shallow waters by a beach.

Unlike before, when his body was thin, weakened with age, he was once again young. He walked naked along the beach. The smell of flowers filled the air and the wind was gentle against his cheek.

In the distance he saw a figure walking, as he was, along the line where the water met the sand. A man. Tall, dark-haired. Taren recognized the strong line of his shoulders even from so far away. He began to run. “Ian!” he yelled as he ran. “Ian!”

T
AREN
AWOKE
and, momentarily confused as to where he was, reached for the stone around his neck. He found nothing there but the necklace his mother had left him.

When he’d arrived at Callaecia with Ian, his visions had been infrequent. Now they dogged him every day. A foreboding sign. First his parents, then the memory of the stone. Now the priestess and Ian.

The old woman!
The thought struck him with particular force. He’d thought Zea looked familiar. He was certain she was the same woman who had appeared to him on the beach near Callaecia, and twice before that. How long had it been since Taren had lived as Treande? More than eight hundred years, Vurin had said. “Treande led the survivors to Ea’nu and helped them build the first temples there.” What power she must have possessed to speak to him from beyond the veil of death.

Not any greater than a power that allows you to experience the past as if it were unfolding before your eyes.

And what of the dream of Ian? It had felt so real, as if Ian had sat there, watching the water, waiting for him. He thought of how he could sense Ian’s presence when they were apart, and wondered if somehow Ian
had
been there on that beach. Waiting for him. Worried for him.

With this thought, Taren rubbed his eyes, inhaled slowly, then realized Brynn was watching him. “What are you looking at?”

“You were talking in your sleep,” Brynn said with a frown. “Who’s Ian?”

“Go back to sleep, boy.” Taren tensed his jaw.

Brynn huffed softly but did as he was told. Taren closed his eyes and thought of Ian. He remembered sitting next to Ian on the beach and how the wind bound them together. His heart ached with longing to be with Ian once more.

The sooner you find Odhrán, the sooner you can return to him.

Eleven