The Keeper's Heritage

by Trenna McMullin

  Berd leaned back and stroked his scraggly white beard thoughtfully. “I found you down on the beach, in the northwest part near the rocks and not too far south of the river delta. I can show you the exact spot if you like, though I think that’ll have to wait for tomorrow.”

  Ky’ara looked outside and saw that rain had begun to drizzle from the suddenly grey sky.

  “Does it ever stop raining?” she muttered to herself.

  Berd chuckled at her tone and shook his head, “ ‘round here we get used to the wet. But when the sun does come out, like it did late this morning, ‘tis worth livin’ through perpetual grey to see the ocean sparkle like it does.”

  Ky’ara nodded, remembering how beautiful the water had looked from the hills outside the village.

  “So, anyhow, when I found you I called down a few of the boys to help carry you up to my place I can’t do much liftin’ with my knee and all. So they carried you up here to my little home and I just let you sleep for a week or so. I thought you might be dead, you were hardly breathin’. But your color was fine and I could see your eyes movin’ beneath your lids occasionally, so I knew you could only sleep for so long…When you finally woke up, you nearly took off my head with that ridiculously big sword there, nice thanks it was for me givin’ up my bed for a week.”

  Ky’ara had to laugh at the indignant expression the old man wore, and for a moment she could picture Taren waking up in a strange place and immediately expecting the worst…She shook her head and pulled herself away from the image, then sat up straight and ignored the look Taren was giving her.

  “I remember that,” Taren said hurriedly, “You don’t have to go into how…confused I was after I woke up. I know that already. But anything else…what about when you found me? Did you see anything that might have told you how I got there, or anything unusual about how I was or…I don’t know, why were you near the rocks anyways? You don’t usually go up there, or at least you never did when I was here.”

  Berd nodded. “No, you’re right. I don’t usually go up to the northern beaches. I don’t rightly remember why I went up there that day. I suppose I just felt like I hadn’t been there for a while…now that I think about it I really don’t know. Somethin’ just drew me there.”

  Joran and Ky’ara exchanged a look.

  ‘What?’ she asked silently.

  ‘You did it again,’ he replied mirthfully, ‘your reach must be pretty far for you to influence this guy all the way out here from the capital.’

  ‘You don’t know it was me,’ Ky’ara protested vaguely, ‘Maybe Taren is an Ysinkai too, or maybe it was part of the spell Arys used. It could have even been a coincidence. Those do still happen you know.’

  ‘MmmHmm.’ Joran’s reply was skeptical.

  ‘Blah,’ Ky’ara retorted childishly, and Joran laughed out loud suddenly, startling Berd.

  The old man gave him a strange look and turned back to Taren. “I didn’t notice anythin’ out of place except you…and when I saw a body just layin’ there I didn’t really look around too much. I was more concerned with getting you in out of the rain.”

  Taren sighed and nodded. “I see. Well, thank you anyways.”

  Berd shrugged. “Doesn’t hurt me nothin’ to talk. I just hope y’all know what you’re gettin into down here. There’s been some strange stuff goin’ on lately ya know. And that storm last night wasn’t the least of it.”

  Taren leaned forward, “What has been goin’—going—on?” he corrected himself with a wry smile, “The last village was all closed up and the farmhouses for miles have been abandoned, or even destroyed. The fields aren’t plowed, but there’s no sign of trolls this close to the coast and no one is willing to talk to strangers.”

  “And right they are. If you weren’t you, I wouldn’t have talked to you either,” Berd replied darkly. “Strangers ‘round here are bad news. People are disappearin’ without a trace in the dead of night—not kidnapped, just up and gone from their beds like something called ‘em outside. People don’t trust anyone they don’t know or half the people they do. Everyone is scared outta their minds. They’ve gone to deadboltin’ their doors at night and makin’ it near impossible to get out without makin’ a huge racket. Just last week Ginnie Perks caught her boy Milton trying to break through the door in the middle of the night. She stopped him and slapped him across the face to try and wake him up, but he just looked at her all empty-like. Woke up in the mornin’ and didn’t remember a bit of it…said he must’ve been sleepwalkin’ somehow.” Berd shook his head sadly and stared out at the sky. “I’m a bit scared myself, not havin’ anyone to hear if I get up and leave in the middle of the night—but then, that also means I’m not leavin’ anyone behind either, so I’m not as bad off as Ginnie, who’s got seven kids all under thirteen and all able to walk and her husband gone already so she has to care for them all herself and worry what’ll happen to them all if no one hears her get up and leave.”

  Ky’ara listened with growing horror as he described the state the town was in. “And you have no idea what’s doing it?” she asked incredulously. “They can’t just leave no trace at all! When they leave the house they don’t just fly away; they have to leave tracks of some sort!”

  Berd shook his head regretfully, “You said it yourself. It never stops rainin’ here and by the time anyone realizes they’re gone it’s been hours and the rain has washed away all trace of ‘em.”

  Ky’ara slumped in defeat and stared out the window at the rain, deep in thought.

  “Taren can track them,” Joran said suddenly.

  “If he’d been here the night after one of ‘em left maybe,” Berd shrugged, “But we’ve all been real careful, and so no one’s escaped for a couple weeks. The rain has wiped away all trace by now, and if that didn’t do the job, that storm last night would have.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” Joran said smugly, “Taren’s better than any tracker anywhere, even with ‘no trace’ he can still at least tell what direction they went in.”

  Taren shot him a look and then met the curious stare the old man was giving him. “I can probably do that much, yes. But I’m not sure if I should. You all might go looking for them if I did, and then whatever took them will take all of you as well, and then where will we be?”

  Berd shrugged, “I don’t know how people will react, but I wouldn’t be spreadin’ that around too much youngster,” He directed his last comment at Joran. “People ‘round here might think it’s witchcraft, and they’ve got a mighty low tolerance for magic of any kind right now.”

  Joran shrugged sullenly, “Why is everyone always so against magic?” he asked woefully, “Am I the only person in the world who doesn’t—didn’t—have it and still thinks it’s great?”

  Ky’ara shook her head in exasperation, “Joran, the world isn’t against you. Most people don’t mind legal magic most of the time, but things they can’t explain frighten them. A normal person can’t do much against magic, so of course they hate it.”

  “Is that why you hated it?” Joran asked suddenly, “because it was something you couldn’t have total control over?”

  “I already explained why I don’t—didn’t—like it.” Ky’ara retorted, “What are you trying to imply?”

  “You are a complete control freak Ky’ara! You always have to have things exactly how you want them and when they’re not you pout about it forever!” Joran jumped up, shouting.

  Berd looked startled by the boy’s sudden outburst.

  “What are you talking about?” Ky’ara asked, trying not to let him get to her, and wondering what had set him off.

  “You control when we stop and when we go, you’re always right, and I never say anything right at all according to you! When we want to investigate something more and you get scared, you start to boss us all around and make us leave! You act like you’re all grown up and better than anyone, but you’re just a childish brat who can’t stand to be wrong. You—”

  “Stop it,” Taren sa
id suddenly, breaking Joran off mid-sentence.

  “Ughh!” Joran turned on his heal and ran out into the rain, fuming.

  Ky’ara turned back to look at Taren, severely startled, and hurt by Joran’s words. “What was that all about?” she asked carefully, surprised by how difficult it was to hold back tears.

  Taren just shook his head wordlessly. Berd stared out the door for a moment, and then turned to the other two.

  “You’d better go get him before he gets lost out there, you can’t see much in this rain. Aside from all that, people who disappeared usually acted oddly the day before, and I take it he doesn’t usually act that way?” Berd said calmly.

  “Well, except when…” Ky’ara started, then stopped herself abruptly and looked down at the floor. She had been about to say “Except when we were starting to Link,” but caught herself just in time. And even then she supposed he had never freaked out without some actual reason. Usually she had been the first to start ragging on him.

  “I’d better go find him,” she said to cover the moment. She pushed back her chair and ran out the door into the rain after Joran.

  Taren shook his head and cursed under his breath, “blast-it-all, don’t those two have any sense? It’s pouring rain out there, and it’s dangerous. He didn’t even bring his sword.”

  He grabbed the weapon from where it lay near the door, along with their cloaks, and followed them outside, though at a much slower pace.

  Berd looked after them for a moment, shaking his head ruefully, “Ah, youngsters…”

  He heaved himself up from the table and limped over to the door to close it and keep out the rain.

  * * * * *

  Ky’ara regretted not grabbing her cloak before leaving the hut. She had underestimated how cold the rain and breeze had turned the air. From inside it hadn’t looked like much more than a light drizzle, but the rain was falling harder every minute and the wind blew it slantwise straight into her face.

  “Joran!” she called anxiously, “I’m sorry for being bossy or whatever, please come back inside!”

  She squinted ahead, but the rain hid any sign of his movement, and the clouds made it shadowy and difficult to see. Closing her eyes, she attempted to locate him through their link, but she couldn’t feel anything. That, more than anything else, frightened her, and she nearly screamed when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

  She whipped around and nearly took off Taren’s arm with her sword.

  “Watch it,” he said mildly, stepping out of the way with one of his disconcertingly quick movements. “You forgot this.”

  He draped her cloak over her shoulders as she sheathed her sword.

  “I’m sorry, I—Thank you,” she said, embarrassed.

  He shrugged and turned away, his sharp eyes searching the blurred landscape for any sign of the boy. “Can you Call him?” he asked, turning to her.

  Ky’ara shook her head. “I can’t feel anything through our link at all! I’m not even sure what I did to make him so angry at me…”

  Taren shook his head, “I don’t think it’s you. It’s like Berd said, the people who disappeared always acted strangely before they left, I think Joran might somehow be caught in the same thing.”

  “You think he’s under a spell!?!” Ky’ara asked, startled. “But wouldn’t I have been able to see or sense it?”

  Taren shrugged, “That depends. Were you trying to sense anything?”

  Ky’ara shook her head mutely, staring into the rain despondently.

  “There are many spells that you cannot sense in any way unless you are consciously trying to,” Taren replied after a brief silence.

  Ky’ara remained silent, but turned to give him a look that clearly asked “What should we do?”

  “Well…I guess if we can’t rely on your link we’ll just have to do this the old fashioned way,” he replied after a moment’s hesitation.

  Ky’ara didn’t reply; she felt numb somehow, though she couldn’t quite fathom why. She didn’t quite understand the feeling, but it wasn’t a pleasant one. Using her Sight, she checked the area for the ominous black magic, but the sleet and mist made it impossible to tell if the shadows were real shadows or magic.

  Taren bent to touch the ground, closing his eyes momentarily in concentration, and then looked up. “He’s not far, but we need to go more to the left.”

  Ky’ara nodded her understanding and moved forward in the direction he had indicated, straining to see through the rain and returning fog. A muttered word parted the water just before her, forming a sort of tunnel for her to pass through with better visibility. She hadn’t stopped the rain or parted the clouds—messing with the forces of nature was not wise, and likely to have unwanted effects—but instead simply conjured an invisible force field to float in a straight line directly above and a few yards in front of her with the rain running off on either side.

  Taren nodded with approval, and followed close behind as she walked briskly through her tunnel, occasionally correcting her direction or urging her to speed up slightly. Finally, a dark shape appeared on the path in front of them. Ky’ara ran forward unexpectedly, and Taren was suddenly doused in a torrent of water as she dropped the force field. “Joran! What is wrong with you?” she yelled, “This rain is cold, you’ll catch a chill…and it’s dangerous out here!” She caught up to the figure and grabbed his arm, spinning him to face her, “Joran! Why don’t you ans—”

  Ky’ara broke off when she finally realized that it wasn’t Joran, but another boy who was roughly the same weight and height but who looked to be a year or so younger. “Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you were—” she started to say, but cut off when he glanced at her. His eyes were empty. She felt a shiver run through her as he swept her with his lifeless gaze, and for a moment she froze, unsure of what to do. He turned, shrugging off her hand, and started to walk down the path again.

  “That’s odd.” Taren said abruptly, and Ky’ara started, she hadn’t noticed when he came up beside her. Ky’ara nodded, staring after him as the boy receded into the distance.

  “I wonder who—” A thought suddenly occurred to her, and she broke off mid-sentence. Berd had mentioned a boy who had tried to leave…what was his name… “Milton!” she called abruptly. The boy paused momentarily, and then continued to walk forwards as if nothing had happened. “I knew it,” she muttered under her breath. “Milton stop! Where are you going? What about your mother? What about your brothers and sisters? What will they do without you?”

  She walked closer, following him, afraid that if she went too fast he would run away. The boy continued walking, ignoring her calls, though she thought she sensed a moment’s hesitation at the mention of his mother. Something strange was happening here. Ky’ara understood why Berd had advised them about the disappearances. It was as though the boy was under a spell, hypnotized somehow, and Ky’ara wanted to know who was trying to control him, and why.

  “We have to stop him,” Taren said quietly. Ky’ara looked up in surprise, and then nodded curtly. “We need to find out how he’s being controlled.”

  She used her Sight and noticed that a thin film of shadow covered the boy from head to toe, and it seemed to be seeping inside him, taking over his body entirely. The sight disgusted her, and she felt suddenly nauseated. This magic was growing all too familiar, and she sincerely hoped it wasn’t what she thought it was…

  “Illumisia!” she muttered quietly. The boy stopped moving, and the black shadows writhed in pain, and then began to seep into him more quickly. Milton cried out in pain, the first noise he had made, and fell to his knees, shaking uncontrollably.

  Ky’ara cried out in dismay, “What did it do? I didn’t mean to hurt him, I—”

  She murmured another spell, this time one meant to purify. The boy ceased his screams, and the shadows faded slightly for a moment, then came back just as strongly.

  Taren put a hand on her shoulder as Ky’ara reached for the boy. “I don’t know what it’s doing, but I don’t
think it’s wise to use magic. Anything strong enough to burn that stuff out of him is likely to kill him. He’ll have to fight it off himself.”

  “I have to do something! We can’t just sit here and let him…” Ky’ara began, feeling a strange sense of urgency.

  Taren stopped her with a wave of his hand, “I didn’t say we can’t help him in other ways.”

  Ky’ara watched, dumbfounded, as Taren suddenly sprinted past her and caught the boy in his grip. Milton suddenly became violently active, throwing off his formerly passive nature and struggling ferociously to get free. Ky’ara ran closer, and watched from a safe distance as Taren held the boy and fought off his attempts to escape while trying not to hurt the boy. “Milton! Do you recognize me? I helped your mother repair your house a couple years ago. You admired my sword, remember?”

  The boy continued to struggle, seemingly deaf to Taren’s words, but Ky’ara saw his eyes glance towards Taren’s sword with a spark of recognition. “Do you remember when I helped get your sister’s cat out of the tree? Remember your sister and brothers? You need to go home to them; your mother will be worried sick. I’m a friend…I’m trying to help.”

  Milton’s eyes suddenly snapped out of their dead stupor, and Ky’ara saw recognition and…was it fear in his gaze? He shook his head suddenly, as though struggling to clear his mind. Taren held him more tightly, and Ky’ara watched as the shadows covering him grew darker…but that couldn’t be, he seemed to be responding more, so why would the black magic be darker? Ky’ara puzzled out the answer when his skin seemed to lighten perceptibly, and the shadows actually seemed to seep slowly out of his body.

  “Milton, we’re here to help you,” Ky’ara murmured kindly, coming closer to the struggling boy. “We’re not sure who’s doing this, but we think you’re under some sort of spell. Do you understand me?”

  His movements continued, but his eyes were free, and he used them to convey his understanding, as well as a desperately pleading look that begged for help. Ky’ara’s heart went out to the boy, and she grabbed his hands in her own and gave them a comforting squeeze, even as he struggled to rip them from her grasp.