Paragons of Ether

by Ryan Muree

  He addressed it directly to her and had it sent to the local Messenger post in a city just outside of Neeria. It’d have to be hand-delivered to her from there, but that was better than nothing.

  He hesitated, hovering around the Messenger.

  His mother was damn near fortunate he had more pressing things to handle and possibly some lives to save.

  It’d taken all he had not to scrawl out his fury with her, complete with capital letters and exclamation points. He cursed and rolled his eyes. Another time.

  It was better he had space from her before he’d said and done something that would bite him in the ass later. Not that he’d regret telling his mother exactly what he thought, but he might regret cutting down bridges for chances at things long term.

  He walked back to his seat and thumbed the sigil scar on his finger.

  He has duties to his country, not to you, Librarian Jgenult had said.

  It still made him smile.

  She understood, like Emeryss, what he was trying to achieve. She understood what was important to him, too.

  And that… that was comforting. Maybe his own family, maybe even his own brothers, didn’t get it, but at least someone in charge, someone he’d looked up to, understood.

  “What’s that?” Kylah pointed to his hands as she took the seat next to his.

  He quickly folded his fingers together and turned them down, so she wouldn’t see the intricate design. “Scar.”

  Silence settled between them.

  So much so, he nearly got up and found somewhere else to be.

  “Dova was catching me up,” she finally said, focusing on her own wringing hands. “You think Avrist sent children away to be harmed?”

  He wasn’t sure. He just knew he didn’t trust Orr, and they had too many traitors in Aurelis and the RCA to trust anything. He already hadn’t trusted Avrist. To know they were working together added to his urgency.

  “It’s pretty admirable,” Kylah continued. “Not many people would risk their lives to save—”

  “Kylah—”

  “Kye. Kylah, officially, but friends call me Kye.”

  “Kylah,” he stressed, “we are not friends—”

  “We’re both Keepers—”

  “You were right about my mother using you and putting you on this ship for her own reasons, but she and I don’t agree on anything.” He rose from his seat. “It’s nothing personal, but I am not interested in getting to know you—”

  “But—”

  “—and don’t try to make me sound special for caring about other people, especially children.” He left her behind for Lawrence threading silver tendrils of ether through the dashboard of the airship.

  “One more hour.” Lawrence gestured to the wide window ahead of him and rocky hills of the southern plains of Revel.

  The Fegrin wasn’t large by any stretch of the word, but she was luxurious. Brushed silver knobs and dials, rose-gold trim, pearlescent accents. The back had a decent-sized cargo hold, one office, one full bath, and a few bunks for the Librarian’s crew. The seats were plush, pale hol-hide, tanned and oiled. It was no Zephyr, but it wasn’t Pigyll either.

  “Khendell’s not really known for an RCA presence,” Lawrence said. “You really think Orr’s hiding children there?”

  He wasn’t sure, but it was the nearest city to check.

  Dova sat with her knees folded in her seat, a pouch of the maps and letters beside her. “I tried to tell him.”

  “Better safe than sorry,” Lawrence added and smiled to Grier.

  Grier crossed his arms and watched ahead for the city to come into view.

  After Lawrence had clearance, and the Fegrin was parked, they stepped out into the sleepy town of Khendell.

  Not much more than a farming town with rolling green hills, its simple stone-built homes in the outskirts were cozy and overgrown with thick vegetation. The busiest parts of the city had larger buildings tighter together, mimicking the lower streets of Aurelis or the living quarters for the Keepers in Stadhold.

  Kylah stood beside him, straight posture and eyes scanning.

  Dova hobbled out, fighting over her robes getting in the way and her sandals sinking into the moist grass.

  Lawrence came out, as well. “Want me to stay on the ship?”

  Grier went to say yes, but hesitated. “You’re wearing a Scribe raclar.”

  Lawrence blushed through his gray facial hair. “Too old for official uniforms. Rather be comfortable.”

  Yes, but he looked like a Scribe, and that could be useful.

  “Do you have an overcoat?” Grier asked. “Something to hide the raclar?”

  He nodded.

  “Good. Wear it. I think we might need you.”

  Lawrence smiled. “My pleasure.”

  They made their way over cobble-stone paths toward the center of the town. Few people milled about from shop to shop, unconcerned by their presence.

  “You thought the lines on the map were marking mines,” Dova said. “Why?”

  Wherever these children were being taken, it wouldn’t be obvious. That would defeat the purpose. The thought of hiding them in plain sight came to mind, but he didn’t believe Orr was hiding them for their protection.

  “In Ingini, I went into an ether mine. They explained that where the ethereal plane collides with the real plane, or this plane, the ether seeps into the rocks, the soil, creating massive caverns of raw ether to be mined. A map of ethereal bonds sort of sounds like the same thing.” He looked back at Dova, and her eyebrows were knitted together.

  If he was reading her correctly, she’d not considered that. And after what she’d told him, he’d wished that’s all it was.

  “Do you sense them?” he asked her.

  Dova’s cheeks went pink. “Slightly. I mean, I can sense users of ether here, but that’s everyone.”

  “You’re supposed to be sensing Scribes,” he grumbled under his breath as they crossed a street.

  “I know that,” she bit back through a clenched jaw. “I’m not fully trained—”

  “Then learn quickly,” he cut.

  Where would they hide children? Underground seemed the most logical answer, but how could they find out without arousing suspicion?

  Some citizens glanced their way as they passed, but it wasn’t a big fanfare to see Stadholdens in their cities. Asking about hidden children was another thing entirely.

  “How many are supposed to be here?” Kylah asked.

  Dova counted on her fingers. “Fourteen.”

  “Fourteen?” Kylah shook her head. “Fourteen untrained Scribes?”

  “He wanted them spread out, so they’d be safer,” Dova said. “It makes sense.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” Grier answered, still moving in the direction of the center of the city.

  A few kids laughing and playing darted between two buildings, and Grier stopped.

  Kids knew things adults didn’t. Children had a way of finding things and sneaking into places, and their curious nature was hardly questioned. If anyone knew where there could be kids hiding, it would be other kids.

  “Stay here.” Grier darted down the alley between the two buildings, turning corner after corner until he’d found two young children crouched behind a wooden barrel.

  “Hey!” the little blond girl whined. “You’re not playing with us!”

  “Get out of here,” the boy said. “You’re ruining our hiding spot.”

  Grier kneeled. “I need your help.”

  They stared, doe-eyed up at him.

  “I won’t ruin your game,” he said.

  The boy whispered to the girl, “Mama said don’t go with strangers that ask for help.”

  The girl nodded and pointed to his bracer. “He’s a fighter, too.”

  Grier smiled and held his palms up. “I’m not taking you anywhere. I just have a question. If you help me, I’ll tell you a secret about the best hiding place for your game.”

  “And your shiny thing
,” the boy pointed to Grier’s bracer. “I want that.”

  Grier dug inside his pockets. “I can’t give you my bracer, but I can give you a few tokens.”

  The boy licked his lips and peered at the money in Grier’s palm.

  “What’s your question, then?” the girl with blond ringlets nearly down to her elbows asked.

  “I’m looking for other children—children that might be hiding.” Grier leaned in and whispered, “The adults don’t want to help me find them, and I think they’ve been taken.”

  “Kidnapped?” the boy asked just as softly.

  Grier shrugged. “Have you seen any kids that weren’t where they were supposed to be? Some kids that might have looked like they were in trouble?”

  The boy checked with the little girl and then nodded to Grier. “There were some kids that came out of the back of Nighmore.”

  “What’s that?” Grier asked.

  “A place for parents,” the boy said.

  “They do a lot of drinking in there,” the girl added matter of factly.

  Grier smiled. “I see.”

  “The kids came out,” the boy said. “I wanted to play with them, but they weren’t allowed out for long. Then they went back inside.”

  “On their own?” Grier asked.

  The boy turned his head left and right once. “They had grown-ups with them, yelling at them to get back inside like they were in trouble.”

  “Did you tell anyone?”

  The girl leaned forward. “He tried and tried, but mama said to mind our own business. That they were in trouble prolly, and we would be, too, if we kept snoopin’ on neighbors.” She rocked on her heels.

  It was enough to go off of at least.

  The boy swiped the tokens from Grier and put his hands on his hips. “Now, the secret.”

  Grier pointed to the ladder above their heads, leading to a balcony overlooking the alley. “No one ever looks up. Always pick the high ground if you can and change it up. Don’t be predictable.”

  The boy’s eyes lit, and he and the girl hurried to help each other climb the ladder to hide in the balcony.

  Grier left them to their game and joined the others back near the main street.

  “Well?” Kylah asked.

  “Nighmore. Sounds like a bar, maybe. We just have to get in and search the place.”

  “We can’t just walk in and ask about missing children,” Kylah said. “If they’re kidnapped, they’ll want to keep them that way.”

  “And if they’re being protected,” Dova said, “like I know they are, they’re not going to be willing to share information, either. They’ll want to keep them safe.”

  Yeah, right. Safe.

  But they were both right. They needed another way in to be able to scout the place out.

  Urla.

  “We need to find a Messenger with a directory,” Grier said, leading them deeper into town. “I know someone who might be able to help.”

  Grier knocked his knuckle against the pink wooden door a second time.

  There were noises coming from inside, several in fact, but none were discernible. He’d just hoped the directory was up to date, and this was, in fact, Urla’s home. Though the pink trim, bright yellow flowers in her garden, and soft-orange siding didn’t really look her style. It looked more like a caricature of everything Urla hated.

  Finally, the door opened, revealing Urla with her gray strands tied up in a bun. Her flower-themed apron had been dusted with powder. She wielded a wooden spoon in her hand and her eyes widened at the sight of him.

  “Urla?”

  “Grier?” She glanced down at herself for a moment and then aimed the spoon at his nose. “Don’t you dare say a word, Keeper.”

  He held in a smile. “I didn’t really think this was your thing, but I guess retirement suits you—”

  “I said shut it.”

  Squeals and giggles echoed behind her. Two dark-headed boys ran up as quick as lightning, unnaturally fast, wrapping both arms around her legs. “Gramma, please, can we play out back?”

  She smiled and knelt down, telling them to go ahead and play outside, but as soon as they were out of earshot, she rose and glared at Grier. “A warning would have been nice.”

  “And miss”—He gestured to her apron and spoon— “this?”

  Urla looked at the others behind him. “What’s wrong? Where’s You-know-who?”

  You-know-who? Emeryss?

  His throat caught dry, and he cleared it. “Home. I’m here investigating something.”

  “In Khendell?” Her eyes scanned them all again.

  “I need your help getting into Nighmore. I think Orr’s keeping untrained Scribes here against their will.”

  Her eyebrows narrowed, she glanced down the street left and right, and lowered her voice. “Untrained Scribes are—”

  “Children, yes.” He gestured to Dova just behind his left shoulder. “She’s the next locator Caster after Avrist.”

  “Avrist? That tart-hole was your boss?” Urla aimed the spoon at Dova with a step forward.

  Dova inched back.

  “Will you help us with Nighmore?” Grier asked, blocking Urla’s view.

  “I have to go in with you.” She eyed Kylah and Lawrence, but Lawrence simply dropped his head in a short bow. “Meet me right up there at the corner lamppost two hours after sunset. Make sure you look less… you. More like you’re ready for a night on the town.” She closed her door in their faces.

  “That’s it?” Kylah asked.

  That was it. He led them toward the shops at the center of town.

  “But how do we know she’s really going to help us?” Kylah asked.

  “She’s a friend,” Grier called back. “I have fought and killed alongside that woman. I trust her with my life. Let’s go.”

  Kylah caught up with him. “She looked—”

  Grier stopped and eyed her. “Kylah, I need you to trust me. If you’re here to help, then you need to trust me. Got it?”

  And if she didn’t, she could go back to Stadhold.

  “Got it,” she said.

  Chapter 13

  Jullnta Harbor — Revel

  Emeryss rolled her eyes for the hundredth time.

  She’d been on the road with her mother for one single night, and she was already considering telling her to go straight back home. She’d Blink her there if she had to.

  But Jullnta Harbor was so close. It was right there, and maybe her mother would see that she didn’t need her help and would willingly go home.

  Maybe.

  Her mother huffed. “I’m just saying had we taken your father’s boat we wouldn’t have to stop in Jullnta.” Her tone was such that harsh judgments were clearly implied. She cracked the leather piece at the hollda driving their cart.

  “And I already said that I’m not going to take dad’s boat when he needs it—”

  “Harvest is done. What is he going to use it for?” Her thick Neerian accent seemed to get stronger the farther they were from home.

  “Fishing?” Emeryss suggested. “Teaching Ben things he needs to know? I don’t know, but I wasn’t going to ask for his boat for my journey—”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I can do it on my own.”

  “You didn’t have a problem using my cart and my favorite hollda.”

  “You didn’t have to come. I don’t need help—”

  Her mother clicked her tongue at the animal veering slightly off the path and pulled him back on. “Watch it, Ched. Have you been drinking seawater?”

  The hollda snorted and grunted at her.

  “I told you to stop drinking seawater in the morning. It upsets your stomach.”

  Emeryss rolled her eyes again and crossed her arms. “Suddenly you’re worried about my needing help.”

  “I’ve always worried. You’re small. You’re weak—”

  Why was everything an insult? “I’m none of those things outside of Neeria.”

  “T
hen go outside of Neeria. Be something else than what you are.”

  She shook her head, focusing on the waves and the rising sun. “I don’t want to be anything else.”

  “Yes, you do. It is clear you do.”

  Why? Why did her mother do this to her? Because it wasn’t enough to tell her that everything she ever did or said was wrong? Why couldn’t her mother learn to let her be?

  “I’m not discussing this any further. When we get to Jullnta, I’ll get a boat, and you can go back home.”

  Her mother laughed. “I don’t do what you tell me to do.”

  Would the Goddess be willing to talk to her while her mother challenged everything she said?

  “You’re unbelievable,” Emeryss sulked.

  “You look like a child.”

  “Yeah, well, I feel like one when I’m around you. Imagine that.”

  Her mother pulled on the reins for Ched to stay on course. “You want to talk about this boy?”

  Oh, Goddess, no. “I’m not a teenager.”

  Her mother shrugged. “Okay, this man.”

  Emeryss glowered at the brightening sea. “Why? You’ve never cared before about my relationships.”

  “Well, that’s because I already knew you were screwing the neighbor boy by the salt racks.”

  Emeryss’s eyes widened as she sat up. “What?”

  “Everyone knew. Ben caught you. Issolia didn’t believe it, then saw for herself and told us. Well, I don’t think his mother knew. Though I thought about telling her often. That woman thought her son was pure and special.” She laughed again. “That woman thought the Goddess and all things revolved around him. Infuriating.”

  Emeryss wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

  If the Goddess couldn’t help her, maybe she’d take Emeryss swiftly to end this misery.

  “Is this man of yours strong?”

  That’s all her mother ever cared about. “Yes, he’s strong.”

  Her mother nodded. “Really strong?”

  “He’s a Keeper, mom. He’s trained his whole life to fight. He can swim with his full set of armor on and everything.”

  Why was she telling her this? Why was she giving in? Why couldn’t she stand up for herself and tell her mother to mind her own business?

  “Oh.” Her mother bobbed her shoulders up and down, mocking her. “So strong that he can swim with his armor on—”