“Of course you are,” he said with a frown. “But you aren’t actually older. You haven’t changed on the inside, just on the outside.”
“That isn’t true at all,” she said, coughing weakly into a shaky hand. “I’ve known you for more years than I will admit. You are my oldest, dearest friend. My memory isn’t what it should be, but I remember glimpses of our adventures. That night in Gressmore Towers when you held me as I cried. The moment I found you nearly dead in the maiden’s courtyard. Those felking twins you love so much. More than they deserve. And the terrible choices you have yet to face.”
“I remember the maiden’s courtyard,” he said, reeling from the sudden impact of a deeply buried memory. “It was just a dream, or a vision. The courtyard was mostly destroyed, just like it is today. Instead of a sinkhole filled with water, the Vex’kvette flowed from the castle. Dragons flew overhead. It was madness, and you were there. You said it was my fault. You said not to wield another.”
“I did,” she said.
“Aerella, what else can you tell me?” he pleaded. “What was that? How can I keep it from happening?”
“I’ll tell you what I remember,” she said. “That was the future, or a possible future. The reason I told you not to bond with another is because I’ve seen the results of your madness. Not only will you destroy Ehrde, your actions will kill half the people on our planet.”
He heard gasps from the others.
“I wasn’t there when it happened... happens... anyway. These are legends I’ve learned that were passed down for thousands of years. Stories that became history, and then myth,” she said. “But it is said you suffered a terrible loss, and in your madness, with all the power from two foci, you cracked Ehrde in half. You broke our world.”
“What loss?” he said, his heart skipping several beats. “Was it Tori? Was it Heather? My children?”
“I don’t know,” she said, squeezing his hand weakly. “I...I remember your children grown, and your wife older, but only glimpses.”
Angst nodded, but his mind was racing. Since escaping Victoria's room, he’d felt a growing anger, but had assumed it was because of Victoria being stabbed. Did this mean she was the one destined to die? Aerella had struggled to explain what had happened—at this age maybe she wasn’t remembering everything. He stopped his ram swifen, unable to catch his breath.
“We’re almost there, Angst,” Maarja said, but not too firmly.
He dismounted and paced, squeezing his hands, desperate for this overwhelming sense of helplessness to pass. Doubt. He was filled with doubt. He was going to fail someone, again, and he didn’t know who. He paced, unable to control his anxiety. Angst stopped when shiny black boots crossed his path. He slowly looked up those black boots, up very long legs, pausing at a delicious torso and round breasts until he saw Faeoris’s pretty face. Her eyes were sad, but her face was stern.
“Snap out of it!” she said.
In a blur, she reached up and smacked him across the mouth. He flew back, crashed against a tree, and collapsed into a heap.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Faeoris said, suddenly kneeling beside him.
It took a moment for the darkness and bright spots to go away. Angst winced at the muscles knotting between his neck and shoulders. His head was spinning, and his jaw felt locked into place. Had she broken it? A soft, warm hand touched his cheek. A wave of comfort washed away his pain. Aerella drew her hand from his face and stood up. He was surrounded by his traveling companions. How long had he been there? Had Faeoris knocked him out?
“Did I...did I say something wrong?” he asked. “Why are you crying?”
“You were pacing for a long time. You were lost to us in your worry,” Faeoris said hurriedly. “I couldn’t get your attention, and I didn’t know what else to do. I was getting frustrated. I didn’t mean to hit you so hard.”
She held him close, kissing his cheeks over and over. He waited for her to calm down, and waited longer because the kissing and hugging was nice. His hand was damp, and he realized Scar was licking it furiously.
“Thank you,” he said sincerely.
“You’re...you’re welcome?” Faeoris said questioningly, her face still wrought with worry.
“Aerella’s story was probably the most frightening thing I’ve ever heard,” he said, picking up the lab pup and petting him. Scar’s tail fought through his hold to wag in a frenzy. “I always thought my greatest fear was heights...well, other people near heights. It’s actually losing people I care about, and not being able to do a thing to save them. Heather, the kids, Victoria...you.” He looked at Faeoris, and she met his gaze before looking at the ground. He sought Aerella. “You. All of you. It’s why I didn’t want you here. Not because I don’t like you, but because I love my friends and don’t want to lose them.”
Kala wrapped her arms around him, and he felt a tugging on his side as Jintorich hugged him too. Maarja stood away from them, looking sad, or defeated, or guilty. It was hard to tell. Angst took in the hugs before reaching up to Faeoris, who helped him stand. He approached Maarja and held his arms open. She hesitated but finally kneeled. Her hug emptied his lungs.
“I’ll try to be a friend,” she said, looking more worried than he would’ve expected.
“Before I become young and forget, Angst,” Aerella said. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For this.” She gestured with her arms and looked at all of them. “I’ve lived a hundred, hundred lifetimes and enjoyed adventures no human ever could. I’ve seen so much of the past and future. I’ve saved countless lives. I’ve had adventures throughout time that you couldn’t dream. It’s been quite wonderful, and it will soon end. Moments like this mean everything.”
“Don’t talk like that,” he said.
“I’m tired, Angst,” she said. “At this age, I’m exhausted. I have no regrets, and just wanted you to know that I’m grateful you pulled me from Gressmore.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, not knowing what else to say.
“But,” she said, as if trying to sneak in the last word. “You missed my point, when I asked if I’m still Aerella.”
“I didn’t miss anything,” he said definitively. “You’re Aerella, whether you look twenty or one hundred...no offense.”
“None taken,” she replied. “Mostly.”
“I get this, because I’ve always been Angst,” he explained. “Whether I’m twenty, or forty, or want to be twenty. I’m still...well, I’m still me.”
“You do get it,” Aerella said in surprise.
“You missed my point, though,” he said.
“How so?”
“I asked why you’re old. Not because of how you look, or who you are, but because it puts us in danger, like it did,” he said firmly. “You’ve known about this condition since you were in Unsel, and said nothing. I remember you writhing in pain in the infirmary. The Mendahir could’ve eaten us alive or tossed us into space...” The worry in Kala’s face told him to stop, but she needed to know—they all did. “We need to reassess. We’ve had it easy. So far, we’ve had a few Fulk’han sneak up on us, seen one town destroyed by a dragon, and we’ve been attacked by a race of beings that are supposed to be dead. We haven’t faced an element. We haven’t faced Fire. You don’t even know the dangers ahead.”
“That’s scary, Mr. Angst,” Kala said. “I’m scared.”
“Then you’re the smartest of us all,” he said sincerely.
“I know that!” she replied, taking Scar from him and holding the puppy close.
“It’s just that we can’t have any more unknowns,” Angst said firmly.
"I don't know why my age fluctuates," she said. "I was trying to communicate with you from the future when you pulled me to your time."
"Uh, sorry," he said, staring at his feet.
"It happens," she said. "Is it enough to know that I get older sometimes?"
“It helps! We now know your...condition. Everyone has a good idea
of my fears and weaknesses. Does anyone else have any secrets they’d like to share?”
Nobody wanted to be first to bare their hidden truths, and who could blame them? Angst hated this more than anyone, but this was what had made things work so well with Dallow, Hector, Tarness, and Rose. They knew each other. They understood each other's capabilities and knew how to make up for any failings. It made them stronger as a whole, and these new companions needed to come together before they faced something unprecedented.
“Please,” Angst urged.
Kala raised her hand. Angst smiled, kneeling to be at eye level.
“I stole cookies from Miss Heather,” she said.
Angst sucked in his lips, and his heart swelled. If only all their problems could be so big. It was serious to her, so he frowned. “Is that all?”
“I gave some to Scar,” she said, her voice thick with guilt. Scar appeared less remorseful with his tongue hanging out and tail wagging.
“Oatmeal with chocolate?” Angst asked.
She nodded but looked down.
“Thank you for telling me, Kala,” he said. “I promise you, it wasn’t stealing. She knows when I’ve taken them too. They’re really good, aren’t they?”
She nodded vigorously, smiling as if the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders. Angst was a little jealous.
“Um,” Faeoris said nervously, glancing at Kala and raising a hand. “My mating cycle was broken by that ass.” She coughed into her hand. “By ANduaut, and now I really need to make babies.”
“I like babies,” Kala said.
“I don’t,” Faeoris said under her breath. She was blushing furiously, staring at Angst with a frustrated gaze.
“We know,” Maarja said. “It’s okay.”
He didn’t completely get it, but the Berfemmian’s shoulders dropped about a foot as the tension abated, as if the words had meant more coming from Maarja than anyone else.
“Aerella already said it,” Jintorich replied. “I am one, one of many.”
“I don’t know what that means, my friend,” Angst said as gently as he could, glancing to the others for help.
Jintorich’s face was wrenched in pain, as if he wanted to explain but couldn’t. His ears were pulled back in a way Angst had never seen, and his eyebrows drooped to the ground. The Meldusian didn’t say anything further and looked like he couldn’t.
“It’s okay,” Angst said, placing a finger on the small man’s shoulder. “We’ll figure it out. We’re in this together.”
Maarja concentrated on the ground and her shuffling feet. Angst stared at the tall woman until she met his gaze. The Nordruaut was hard to read, her face stoic.
“I’m ready to go,” she said.
“Okay then,” he replied. “So am I.”
29
Gressmore Ruins
“I’ve been here many times throughout my life,” Aerella said, her old hand gripping Angst’s shoulder for support. “I’m always excited to visit great memories, but they leave me with a heavy heart, and a sense of...” Her voice quavered as it trailed off.
“Regret?” Angst continued for her, his own voice quiet. He remembered the several awe-inspiring days he’d spent in Gressmore Towers—a mage city in the clouds, resting on tall pillars designed to protect them from wyrms, dragons without wings. When they grew wings, and began attacking the city in the sky, Anderfeld was out of ideas. Desperation drove him to cast a spell that locked Gressmore in time, making them relive the same day again and again. To free the city, Angst had been tricked into killing the man, Aerella’s father. Angst and his friends were cast out, with Aerella. Being here reminded Angst that he’d killed an innocent man. He had regrets too.
But, if it hadn’t been for Anderfeld, Angst would never have cast the same spell now keeping Tori alive: “At all costs.” Those three simple words, coupled with pain, desperation, almost unlimited power, and will, were enough to change time. Angst had only wanted to go back in time one day, to protect Victoria. Instead, the spell had only slowed time, and only in Victoria’s room. He couldn’t begin to fathom how it was possible that the spell had affected time, but why had it reacted differently for him than Anderfeld? Neither Chryslaenor nor Dulgirgraut would feed him information, not even table scraps, but he had to know: was the spell broken, was it him, or was it something else entirely? Aerella looked as weary as she did old. Returning to this sort of destruction, to the remnants of an empty home, couldn’t be easy. But maybe she retained more knowledge when she was older...if she could remember.
“I’m sorry to bother you with this now,” he said, as delicately as he could. “But when I cast the spell ‘at all costs’ it turned out differently than when your father cast it. Young Aerella said I did it wrong, but I was wondering if you still feel that way now.”
“That’s a good question, Angst, but one I may not have the answer to,” she said. “It’s not actually a spell. At least, not like the one we use to summon swifen. Saying at all costs is more of a plea for the foci to try to fix everything. They are incredible tools, but their interpretation of your plea will have random results. I don’t advise you to cast it again. It won’t always work out the way you hope.”
“Thank you,” he said respectfully, not wishing to push any more.
She nodded gratefully at his understanding and patted him gently. “Let’s get this over with,” she said, her words thick and heavy.
Gressmore ruins showed little sign of the majestic city it had once been. The black pillars that had held it up appeared to be smashed into the ground as if by an enormous hammer. The earth was littered with black stone shards and broken clay pottery. Aerella pulled back old vines that clung to a marble statue but shook her head and let go of nostalgia.
“My father was in the process of creating a memndus,” Aerella said.
“Oooh,” Jintorich said in wonder. “I used to teach my students about those when I was a professor. They were living maps that provided a bird’s eye view of Ehrde. With a foci, one could concentrate enough to see closer, like viewing the top of a house. Did it work?”
“Until I broke it,” Angst said.
“Father was so upset.” Aerella chuckled.
“Why did you break it?” Maarja asked.
“I was using it to see my wife,” he said.
“And your princess,” Aerella said, nudging him.
“Well...” Angst said with a cough. “I may have concentrated a bit too much. I guess it wasn’t quite finished yet, and it crashed to the ground.”
“You break everything,” Faeoris said sharply. “Don’t you?”
“It’s a gift,” he said, trying to turn his wince into a smile. Was she still upset? Knocking him out should’ve helped a little. He continued with a sigh. “Dallow has pieces of those memndus, which allow him to see. If we can find more, Aerella and I can cast a spell on the stones to locate him.”
“Where do we begin?” Maarja asked, opening her arms wide.
“We need to find a needle in a haystack,” Angst said.
“Why would someone put a needle in a haystack?” Faeoris asked, looking at Maarja. The Nordruaut shook her head. At least they were agreeing on something.
“He means this will be difficult,” Jintorich squeaked, his ears flicking away gnats. “The glass rocks of the memndus will be hard to locate in these ruins.”
“Why didn’t you just say that?” Maarja asked Angst.
“He’s dumb,” Faeoris stated, her bright wings unfolding. She launched into the air and called out, “I’ll look for reflections from above while there is still daylight.”
“It sounds like your other mate is still angry,” Maarja said as she watched the Berfemmian fly ahead.
“She’s not my other mate,” Angst said in frustration.
“Maybe that’s why she’s angry,” Maarja said, sitting down. She took out a knife the size of Angst’s leg and began sharpening it on a curved stone.
“Why are you sitting?” Jintor
ich asked. “Are you all right?”
“You don’t need me stomping around,” she said stoically. “I’m not here to find little things.”
“You found me,” he teased.
Maarja dropped the knife and scooped Jintorich into a hug. Muffled squeaks snuck out from somewhere between large arms and giant Nordruaut breasts. The hug lasted a little too long, and she finally set him back on the ground. His cheeks and ears were red as an apple, making Angst wonder if he’d been suffocating. It wouldn’t be the worst way to die.
“You made my entire head blush!” Jintorich spluttered. “I hate it when you do that!”
“No, you don’t,” she said, casually. Maarja picked up her knife and sheathed it. “Maybe I’ll go hunt for dinner.”
“Thanks,” Angst said.
She nodded once in reply, but said nothing else. He had a terrible time reading the Nordruaut woman. She seemed distant, cold, but she obviously cared. Maarja was always tense around Faeoris—they weren’t exactly on the best of terms—but was something else bothering her?
“Call out if you run into trouble,” Angst offered.
Her face wrenched into a snarl that made him swallow hard, a reaction he could read very easily.
“Or how about we call you if we run into trouble,” Angst said, failing to remove his foot from his mouth.
“I hate it when she does that,” Jintorich muttered, the Meldusian’s red face becoming less ripe.
“No, you don’t,” Angst said with a wink.
“I believe I can identify where the memndus would’ve been,” Aerella said.
“That’d be a great place to start,” Angst said, following her around marble outcrops. He couldn’t get out of his head the fact that—
“Go ahead,” she encouraged.
“You know me well,” he said. “Okay, fine. You said I go mad, after bonding with the two swords.”
“I said too much.” Her voice was shaky, and she stopped to lean on her knees and cough.
“I don’t understand,” he said. “Why was that too much?”
Long moments passed, as did her racking cough. She stood upright, still older than him, but not quite as old as before.
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