Taming the Elements: Elwin Escari Chronicles: Volume 1 (8 page)

He pulled for several moments without gaining half an inch, when an idea occurred to him. Elwin dropped flat to the roof, using the edge of the building as leverage. He put all of his weight into the pull.

CRACK.

Elwin tumbled backward, holding the ladder.

He stood up clutching his fragment. It was not quite as tall as he was. Ruined. The ladder was ruined. He peered over the ledge. His opponent stood, nursing his rump and holding the other half of his ladder.

“Now how am I going to get down?” Elwin said.

“I don’t know,” Feffer shrugged and threw his larger half on the ground. “You shouldn’t have broken the ladder.” Feffer smiled and ran toward the front of the building.

“Hey!” Elwin called. “You can’t leave me up here!”

Elwin looked at the broken ladder in his hand. “He did. He left me up here.”

He picked up the strapping that he had dropped during the scuffle and walked toward the center of the roof. Then, he noticed a trapdoor at the roof’s center, a pace away from the front awning. His heart skipped a beat as he ran to it. Grasping the handle, he gave it a tug.

It didn’t budge.

“Locked. Curse it all to the abyss!” Elwin looked around on impulse to make sure no adult had heard him swear. Then he remembered he was stuck on a roof. Alone.

Looking around for options, he noticed a couple of empty buckets next to two buckets full of water. Not sure how that would help him, he peeked over the edge and could see Faron and the others at the town square.

Elwin opened his mouth to call for help but stopped when he noticed movement off to the west. Several soldiers armed with long poles with axes at their heads walked alongside a horse-drawn carriage. Each wore silver armor made of chained links and had a sword at their belts. Chain mail, Elwin had read it was called. Stitched into the center of their red tunics and their cloaks was the right hand of a palm, facing outward.

The White Hand! These were the king’s men.

“That could only mean …”

What? What did it mean? Surely it wasn’t the King. Who could it be?

“Wow, that’s the White Hand of Justice, the King’s elite Guard!” Feffer said.

The surprise so close to his ear made Elwin jump.

“Feffer!” Elwin accused. “You trapped me up here!”

Feffer pointed to the procession. “But aren’t you glad I did?”

Elwin opened his mouth to argue, but decided it could wait. “Why do you think they are here?”

“I don’t know. Let’s go find out.”

Elwin turned to follow Feffer back toward the opened trapdoor and tripped over a water pail. The bucket sloshed and tumbled with him, spilling its water down the stairs.

Below, he heard a muted curse.

Elwin and Feffer looked at one another. Feffer’s wide eyes spoke volumes. Before Elwin could ask, Willem stomped up the steps and peered onto the roof. His half-soaked head poked over the lip, and his glower made Elwin back up a step.

With surprising calm, Willem said, “Feffer. Hanck. Madrowl. You go downstairs and hitch old Hilga to the wagon and wait for me there.” Turning his attention back to Elwin. “As for you, I think we need to go have a long talk with your father, young man.”

“But it was Feffer.”

“That’s enough out of you. Come with me.”

Elwin sat on the porch swing next to Feffer, not much in the mood for swinging. Feffer, however, swung his end. Several times Elwin put his feet down in an attempt to stop it, but his heart wasn’t much into another battle just now.

The sun hung just above the horizon in the western sky. He didn’t even get to see why the White Hand had come.

Elwin gave Feffer his worst
“this-is-all-your-fault”
look and just to be sure Feffer understood the message, he added, “This is all your fault.”

Feffer smiled, “What? You climbed onto the roof of your own free will, my friend.”

“I am not your friend,” Elwin crossed his arms in front of him. “Friends don’t dump water on their friends.”

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

Feffer rolled his eyes. “How many friends do you have?”

Elwin opened his mouth to answer and closed it. Counting Momme and Poppe …, “I have plenty, thank you.”

Feffer jumped off the swing. “I know you don’t mean it, Elwin.”

“Hey, where are you going? They said to stay here and not move a muscle.”

Elwin followed Feffer to the window’s edge.

“Have you lost your wits?” Elwin whispered with astonishment.

Feffer shrugged. “We are already in trouble, so we might as well make the most of it.”

Unbelievable. Feffer would get him killed. Ignoring his instincts, Elwin settled next to Feffer and peered through the window. Inside, Mr. Madrowl sat at the dining table in the kitchen.

Elwin’s father stood next to the table. Drenen Escari was not overly large, but he was tall and strong from years in the fields. He had dark hair and eyes, much like Elwin’s mother. Elwin had always wondered who he got his blond hair and blue eyes from. He had never met his grandma and grandpa on his father’s side. But that was who his father said his looks came from. His grandma’s mother had been from Alcoa.

His father frowned much as he would looking at rotten crops as he listened to Willem’s version of the story. Willem stood and began to pace, using the strap to emphasize his points.

“And then the two rascals dumped water on my head. They were in cahoots I tell you.”

“What?” Elwin whispered. “That isn’t how it happened.”

Feffer muffled a laugh into his hand.

Elwin hit Feffer’s shoulder with the backside of his hand. “Shhhh.”

“Would you like some warm tea to calm your nerves a bit?” Mother offered. Her hair was pulled back into a bun, so he could see the worry lines in her face. “The kettle is just finishing.”

“Thank you Melra, I would,” Willem nodded. “I have got to do something about that boy. The last few years, he’s been harder to handle.”

She handed him the tea.

He took it with a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure.”

“What am I to do? Every year he’s getting more and more unruly.” Willem turned and began to walk toward the window. “I’d half expect him to—”

Elwin lost the words as he scrambled back to the wooden swing. Feffer was not far behind him. He listened for footsteps inside the house but couldn’t hear anything over the sound of the pounding in his chest. Several moments passed before Elwin dared to say a word.

“Do you think they saw us?” he whispered.

“Nah,” Feffer said. “They would have come out here and blistered our backsides by now. That was really close though. What do you think they are going to do with us?”

Before Elwin could reply the door opened. He closed his mouth and looked down.

They did see us,
he thought.
The Lifebringer help us, we are goners for sure.

“The Awakening is upon us,” Feffer gulped under his breath to Elwin. Feffer’s lips curled into a small smile. A smile! He was actually enjoying this.

Both of their fathers stood in the doorway. Elwin looked up at Drenen. His furrowed brow half covered his eyes, and Mr. Madrowl’s nostrils flared with each deep breath.

Feffer covered his smile with his hand.

“I am extremely disappointed in you, Elwin,” his father said. “What were you thinking?”

“But it wasn’t—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” he said. “Now go to bed, so I can decide whether or not you can still go to the Summer Solstice Festival tomorrow.”

Elwin’s heart sank. “Yes, sir.”

He squeezed past them and into the house, daring to hope that his mother would at least hear him out. He ran up to give her a hug.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “You heard your father.”

Without a word, he turned to his right and went down the hall to his room. He stripped to his small clothes and climbed into bed. Surely, they would let him go to the Summer Solstice Festival. They were already making him go to bed without dinner.

“Feffer,” he cursed.

Elwin turned about, trying to find a comfortable spot on his bed and failing. He settled onto his back and stared at the dark ceiling.

Elwin opened his eyes and found himself standing in the common room of his home. His parents sat snuggled together on the lover’s bench by the fireplace.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t know how I got here. I was just in my bed trying to sleep and now, here I am.”

Neither of them moved from the small fire or acknowledged him. He blinked. They had never been this mad at him.

“It was all Feffer,” Elwin said. “I promise.”

Still no response.

He walked around to stand between his parents and the fireplace. The warmth behind him had an odd feel. The heat of it seemed to pull at him. He pushed the thought from his mind. His parents stared into one another’s eyes, not seeming to notice him.

“Hello?” Elwin said waving his hand at them.

Drenen moved slowly toward his mother and touched his lips to hers in a gentle kiss.

“Gross!” Elwin said turning from them. He would have rather been anywhere but there.

When he opened his eyes, he found himself in the fields next to the farmhouse. The porch swing sat empty and moved with the breeze. The chill wind touched his arms and legs, sending ripples through his body. It seemed to fill him until he shook from the cold.

“I’m dreaming,” he realized. How else could he have moved out here? He hadn’t walked.

He turned around to look at the fields. A thin fog covered the rows of crops, but the high moon provided enough light to reveal the forest beyond the fields. Tall redwood trees stretched toward the sky. Elwin could make out a clearing in the trees, where he knew a lake to be. Many long days in the fields ended with a dip in the lake. It was the best part of working the fields in the summer.

In the time it took Elwin to blink, he found himself in the forest. Trees towered over him, and the fog became thicker around him. The gentle voice of a woman’s singing echoed somewhere in the distance. He listened for a moment to the lady’s wordless lullaby. It seemed to beckon him. West. It sounded as if it came from the west. That would take him back to the farm.

“Who’s there?” he called.

A mist formed over the lake and crept toward him like a massive serpent. Elwin stepped back, and the advance of the fog slowed. It moved into a formless cloud of a size with Elwin, then patterns began to emerge from the fog. It was a face.

He blinked and rubbed at his eyes. When he opened his eyes again, a man stepped from the fog. He wore blue silks cut in a fashion Elwin had never seen. His dark hair was cut short, and his eyes seemed to be cloaked in shadow. Despite the charming smile on the man’s face, a voice in his mind told Elwin to run. Behind him, the woman’s singing became more urgent.

“Hello, Son of Bain,” the man said in a pleasant voice. “Long have I awaited this meeting.”

“Son of Bain?” he said. “My name is Elwin.”

“Aye,” he said. “You are the one called Elwin. Your bloodline sings to me.”