CHAPTER SEVEN
Lightning flared overhead, but all that fell from the skies was more ash and char. They kicked up from the shod hooves of Aldarin’s midnight stallion and blew out in straight streams that curled away from the mount’s cloth-covered nostrils. The world had turned a monotonous gray, and for once Ember prayed for a rainstorm to clear the skies and wash it away.
But that was not to be. Ezeker had told her the lightning was caused by the eruption, not an impending storm. Unfortunate, but there was nothing to be done. Even Ezeker could not control the weather, though he had been kind enough to let them keep the weather charms.
Ember sat behind Aldarin on the stallion, her arms around him. Not two minutes into their journey home, Aldarin unwrapped her arm from his waist and began to examine the bracelets embedded in her skin. He pressed the image of the wolf engraved on the back of her hand, then turned her arm over to examine the inside of her wrist. He turned it further to study the pinky side of her hand, and Ember’s elbow twisted painfully.
“Uh, Aldarin, my arm doesn’t bend that way,” she said, grimacing.
“Sorry,” he said, immediately releasing her. “It’s just so fascinating. It’s hard to believe these were real chains and cuffs only an hour ago. If I hadn’t seen them in Ezeker’s box, I’m not sure I would believe you. And who would have ever thought the pendant would do the same. They must be part of a set. Why else would they all react that way?” He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand once more. “I wish I had been there to see it.”
“You’re the first one to see it after the fact—that’s got to count for something.” Ember rubbed at her wrist.
“Yeah, and one of the first to see your mother’s face when she finds out, which counteracts the thrill of first sight. If it’s not a curse, it sure seems like one.” Ember groaned. “Thanks for reminding me.”
“What? I thought you didn’t care what she thought.”
“Well, that was before, when I was caught up in the excitement of it. Now I’ve got to face her, and she’s going to be livid. You don’t know her like I do. She’s not your mum.” Ember scrubbed her palms on her pants.
“She may not have birthed me, Ember, but she is every bit as much my mother as she is yours,“ Aldarin snapped, which was unlike him. “Quit feeling sorry for yourself. If you don’t like the way she treats you, then say something about it.” He sat stiffly in the saddle, as if to pull away from her. “You’re old enough to make your own decisions, and too old to pout when Marda disapproves. I’ve certainly had my share of run-ins with her, so don’t even go there.”
Ember was a little taken aback. “When? I’ve never heard Mum say a single negative thing about you. You’re perfect.”
Aldarin laughed, a great belly laugh that had them both shaking on the horse, and Monster looking over his shoulder, snorting at them with disgust. “Oh, let’s see. There was the time I tipped you into the pigsty when you were three, and the time I put burrs in Tiva’s saddle blanket when he was learning to ride and, oh! The time she caught me kissing Melina Tidy, and—”
“What? You kissed Melina? Ewww!” Melina may have been beautiful, but she was the snottiest, most self-loving girl in Karsholm. She hated Ember with every bone in her body, and the feeling was mutual.
Aldarin chuckled. “Hey, I was twelve. What do you expect?” They rode in silence for a moment before he continued. “Most recently, there was my entering the guard. I still haven’t heard the last of that.”
“I never knew.“ Ember wrapped her arms around his waist once more. “I knew she nagged at me all the time, but I’ve never heard her say a thing to any of you boys. I just figured it was me she didn’t like.”
“Oh, she likes you. She loves you. She loves us all, which is why she nags us so much. She just wants us to be better, that’s all. Think about it, Ember. When has she ever reprimanded you in front of anyone else? Besides Paeder, I mean?”
Ember thought. She really thought, long and hard, and could not come up with a single instance in her life when the boys had been around during her arguments with Mum. Either they had been out and about, or Marda had politely said, “Ember, let’s go for a walk.” It was only then that they’d had their little talks.
“Huh,“ Ember said, stumped and surprised. “Never, Aldarin. I don’t remember a single time you guys were around.”
“And there you have it. We’ve all been cornered by her ‘little walks and long talks,’ Sis, but she never tried to embarrass us, only guide us.” Aldarin covered her hand with his own. “She’s the only mother the twins and I remember, so don’t go saying she’s not my mum, okay?” Aldarin still sat stiffly, though he squeezed her hand as he said it.
Ember felt fully chastised and a little embarrassed. She’d never really thought of it that way. Paeder was the boys’ father, and Marda was Ember’s mother—that’s just the way it was. It had never occurred to her that the boys might miss their mother every bit as much as she missed her own father, little as she knew about him.
Maybe the boys were better sons than she was a daughter because she never really thought of Paeder as “Da.” He was just Paeder, her mother’s husband.
“Okay, Aldarin. I’m sorry. I hadn’t realized, and I shouldn’t have judged. It’s just hard sometimes. I love my mum, but I never feel like anything is good enough for her, and I’m not the person she wants me to be.”
“I think she’s afraid, Ember. There seems to be an awful lot of fear tied up in her heart regarding you, especially where magic is concerned. I don’t think she holds you down because she doesn’t approve, I think it’s because she doesn’t want you to get hurt like . . .”
Aldarin stopped, and Ember snatched at the conversation.
“Like what?” she prodded.
Aldarin shook his head and locked his jaw. She could see the muscles working, as though he had glued his teeth together to keep from talking. “Like . . . someone she knows,” he finished, rather lamely. “Who?” Ember prodded again.
“Just someone. I’m not supposed to talk about it. Besides, it’s her business, and if she wanted you to know, then you would know, okay?”
“No, not okay. Aldarin, she never tells me anything, not about herself, nor my father, and especially not about who he was, or what he did, or anything about his family. I ask, and she clams up, so who else am I supposed to ask? And if I’m not supposed to know, how come you do?” Ember was a little hurt that her mother might have spoken to Aldarin about things she would not tell her own daughter.
“I overheard her talking to Ezeker a couple of weeks ago when she didn’t know I was around. It’s not like I was trying to eavesdrop, but sometimes when Ezeker doesn’t want his guards to be obvious, he has us sit in the curtained alcove. That’s how I knew he had spoken to her about the mage trials. Now, please don’t ask me any more questions, or I’ll be breaking her confidence, and Ezeker’s trust in me. You don’t want me to do that, do you?” He grinned at her over his shoulder, but his voice was serious and pleading. Ember knew it had always been hard for him to say no to her, and today was no exception.
She knew she shouldn’t push, but there was something inside her that said, “Ask him. Ask now.” How could she refuse her heart even though her head screamed at her to leave things alone? “Aldarin, please. I don’t know why, but—” she halted, not sure how to go on. “I need to know. It’s the only way.”
“Blast it, Ember! You don’t know what you’re asking! I can’t!”
“I know you can’t, Aldarin. I know it goes against everything that seems right and fair, but answer me truthfully. Isn’t there a part of you that whispers I need to know? Mother will cradle me in cotton and try to protect me my entire life unless I know the truth. All her prejudice and rules are wrong. I don’t know why, and she will not tell me! Please, brother.”
Aldarin slumped forward in defeat and pulled Monster to a halt in the middle of the road. “Off,” he barked.
“But—” she objected.
�
��I said off, Ember. I can’t talk to you about this without seeing your face, and I won’t do it on the back of a horse. Get off,“ he repeated, his voice angry, but determined.
Ember threw her leg over Monster’s back and slid down, Aldarin shortly behind her, his long strides quick as he led Monster under the oak trees that lined the road. Monster nosed aside the small amount of ash that had sifted through the trees and set to eating what greenery he could find. Aldarin leaned against a tree, his eyes blazing at his sister.
“I’m not happy about this, I hope you know. It’s not fair of you to use me this way. Not only is it unethical, but it could get me into a heap of trouble with both Marda and Ezeker. I could get demoted just because I can’t say no to my sister—” He took a deep breath and rubbed his hand through his hair. “—because she’s right.” Resigned, he hung his head and gathered himself to speak.
Ember waited, too tense to do anything but stand still and straight.
“Ezeker has wanted Marda to tell you the truth from the very beginning, and has done everything he knows to persuade her, but she’s too scared about what might happen to you if she does. I don’t understand the entire situation, Ember. I only overheard one conversation, and not a lot of it makes sense to me, but I will tell you what I know.” He looked down at his boots, then met her eyes.
“Your mother has not exactly lied to you, but . . . she has held back a lot of the truth. Here’s the truth as you know it.” He counted the facts on his fingers. “Your father was a stone sculptor. He died in a fire when you were a baby. You came to Karsholm because Ezeker was your only family. Those are the three big ones. All true. All lies.” He stopped then and scrubbed his hand through his hair once more, seeming to work up his courage.
“Ezeker is adopted family. He trained your father in his chosen profession, but they do not share blood. Your father did die in a fire, but it was a fire caused by an evil woman named C’Tan, and I got the impression somehow that there was a connection between them, though I’m not sure what it was. And . . .” Aldarin took a deep breath now.
“Your father was killed because . . . because he was a mage—and because he was protecting you. You are the one C’Tan was after, Ember, and I don’t know the reason, but it’s why your mother does everything she can to keep you from magic. She’s afraid that with magic in your veins, you’ll somehow draw C’Tan to you and be destroyed just like your father. She loves you more than anything, and it’s tearing her up to have to lie to you like this, but it’s the only way she thinks she can keep you safe. Ezeker feels differently and has told her time and again, but she won’t listen.”
Ember felt the blood drain from her face. Aldarin stopped and straightened, watching her with obvious alarm. She flushed with heat as fear washed over her so thick she thought she was going to vomit, and then anger so intense she could barely control the tremors that shook her from head to toe. It was the fear that won out in the end when she realized what had happened to her that very afternoon.
Ezeker said the magic was awakening within her. The magic really did run through her veins. No wonder Ezeker was encouraging her to get to the mage trials. Without his saying a thing, she understood what his thoughts were on the situation—because they were a direct reflection of her own.
“Ezeker thinks training will prepare me for the confrontation with C’Tan, doesn’t he? It’s going to happen sooner or later—my dreams tell me that—and if I’m trained, my chances of survival will increase. Right now I’m powerless.” She looked to Aldarin for confirmation.
His stunned eyes and slight nod were enough for her to know she was right.
The anger flashed bright again. “What’s Mum trying to do, get me killed?”
Aldarin was at her side in an instant, gathering her in his arms. She wanted to fight it, but this was Aldarin. She could resist him no more than he could resist her. They were as close as blood—closer, maybe.
“No, no, Ember, just the opposite,” he said, his voice smooth and earnest. “She feels that keeping you away from magic entirely will keep C’Tan from finding you . . . ever. Obviously she’s not thinking straight. The power that wells up from inside of you is not something you can muffle and hide. It’s a part of who you are, and can no more be changed than . . .” he glanced around, “than I could turn that oak tree into a mare for my stallion.”
The laughter burst out of Ember before she could stop herself. Now was not the time to be laughing. She stopped quickly.
“Come on,” Aldarin said, taking her hand. “Let’s get home and see to a birthing day celebration.”
“I don’t feel much like celebrating right now, but I guess it would look kind of funny if I didn’t show up to my own birthing day dinner, wouldn’t it?”
“Are you kidding? You miss a party? Yeah, it would be noticed.” Aldarin swung himself into the saddle. She scrambled up behind him, and in an instant, they were back on the road. Ember’s thoughts scrambled about her head, one phrase echoing more loudly above the others.
“What’s she trying to do, get me killed?”
It was a question that had no answer.
The Sapphire Flute: Book 1 of The Wolfchild Saga Page 11