The Allseer Trilogy

by Kaitlyn Rouhier

  Fenir sighed, leaning against the side of the house while he waited. Garild stepped closer to the door and peeked inside, half expecting to be hit by something. The room was dimly lit, the windows that would have let in natural light long since covered in soot. A wide table took up most the room, and it was covered in a variety of bottles, bowls, vials, and herbs. Plants hung from the ceiling, soaked in pots of water, and littered the floor wherever he looked. There was a small bed in the far corner of the room, though even that had an assortment of plants and scrolls covering its surface.

  Trista was bent near the fireplace, trying to salvage the plants that had blackened in the bottom of a pan. She cursed and threw her spoon aside. “And here I thought it was going to be a good day.”

  “Is there, uh, anything I can help you with?” Garild asked, peering into the room cautiously.

  “Bring me that pouch of vials on the table. The leather one.”

  Garild grabbed the only leather pouch he could find and brought it to her, stepping carefully through the room. He tiptoed around bottles and plants, trying not to crush anything, though it felt like an impossible task given the state of the room. Trista took the vials with a nod, green eyes scanning the room, searching.

  “Hmm, perhaps dream blossom? No, not nearly strong enough. Sleepers kiss should do the trick. Mix it with burnt fern? No, star nettle would be better. And wraith bark.” She muttered to herself as she danced through the room, picking up plants and tools along the way. It was a wonder she could find anything amidst the chaos.

  Clearing space on the table with a wide sweep of her arm, she laid out the ingredients she’d collected. He watched the skilled healer carefully measure out ingredients, cutting, crushing, and mixing where necessary. When she’d finished, she held three vials of a berry colored liquid that looked almost too thick to drink.

  “That should do it. Shall we?” She beckoned to the door and Garild stepped outside. Fenir was standing at the bottom of the steps waiting for them, arms crossed. He cast a cautious glance in Trista’s direction as they approached.

  “I’m sorry for the ill greeting, Fenir,” Trista apologized. “I was distracted.”

  At her words, the strangest thing happened. Fenir’s expression softened, his shoulders slumped, arms dropping to his sides. His lips twisted into the briefest of smiles, a smile that caught Garild so off guard he had to look twice to make sure he hadn’t imagined it.

  “Well, let’s not keep them waiting,” Trista said, looping her arm through Fenir’s and pulling him along. Garild trailed after them, glancing between his teacher and the healer suspiciously. They walked in companionable silence, though occasionally Trista would point out some plant and explain its purpose while Fenir listened intently, staring at her as if she were some mystical plant herself.

  As the healer, Trista did not have a bond mate, not in the same way that he and Kirheen were bonded. Her bond was with nature, her symbol being the broad leaf of the wraith wood trees towering overhead. She knew the plants and herbs of the land better than anyone and saw to the health and well-being of all in Sanctuary. She was meant to be alone, never to have a companion.

  In a way, Fenir held the same fate. As a twin born, he’d been bonded at the beginning of his life cycle to Tomias. They were two parts of a whole, capable of using their powers on each other long before either of them should have known how to.

  It made him sad to realize that Fenir and Trista would never be allowed more than the friendship they shared. It was obvious in the way Fenir looked at her that he cared for her a great deal. Garild was sure, had the circumstances been different, the two of them would have been bond mates.

  They made good time getting back, and the trio entered the house quietly, trying not to disturb Kirheen in the off chance she was sleeping. Instead, it was Tomias they disturbed. At the sound of their footsteps, he lifted his head off his chest quickly, blinking away sleep.

  “Are we sleeping on the job now?” Trista chided, a hand on her hip. Tomias stumbled to his feet, an exaggerated stretch following.

  “I was merely pondering my morning, dear. I wouldn’t dare sleep and miss seeing that flaming red hair of yours.”

  “You hate my hair. And my freckles. I’m not fooled.”

  “Those freckles seem to have mysteriously disappeared under some strange black markings. Is this some new herbalist magic?”

  Trista rolled her eyes. “Just shut up and make yourself useful.”

  Garild stared at them, feeling baffled by their banter. If Tomias and Fenir were just one soul in two bodies, was it possible they liked the same person? He shoved the thought away, his world suddenly feeling far more complicated than it had before.

  “Where is Kirheen?” he asked, glancing around the room. She wasn’t in the chair she’d been sitting in when he’d left. “Is she okay?”

  Tomias, straining to take his eyes away from Trista, beckoned towards their room. “She just went to rest. Thought a bed might be a bit more comfortable than a chair.”

  “Thanks.” Garild pushed the dividing curtain aside, stepping into their room as quietly as possible. Kirheen was curled on her side, eyes squeezed shut, her brow furrowed. Beads of sweat covered her forehead and her skin was dreadfully pale. Her eyes flickered open as he approached, and he stopped in his tracks.

  “Oh, Garild. It’s you,” she said gently.

  “Yeah, just me.” He smiled, forcing his legs to move him towards the edge of her bed. “Trista mixed up something for you. She’ll be in soon. How are you feeling?”

  “I feel like someone dropped a large boulder on me, so can we talk about something else?” she pleaded.

  “What do you want to talk about?”

  “Anything.”

  “I saw Fenir smile,” Garild said, trying hard to keep a straight face.

  Kirheen snorted. “That’s funny. Completely untrue, but funny.”

  “I’m serious. Trista made him smile. He is capable of doing so. I swear to you, I saw it happen!”

  “I suppose if Tomias can smile, then Fenir can too. I just can’t imagine what that might look like on his smug face.”

  “Oh, about how it usually looks on mine,” Tomias butted in, startling them both. Trista and Fenir followed close behind.

  “Ah, my dear, Tomias wasn’t lying. You look awful,” Trista stated, shooing Garild out of the way so she could stand closer to Kirheen. From the leather pouch at her waist, she gathered one of the vials she’d prepared and pulled the stopper free. “This will help.”

  Kirheen pushed herself up and took the vial from Trista, staring at the contents with obvious distaste. She smelled the liquid, nose crinkling with disgust. “What is this stuff? It smells horrible.”

  “It’s not as bad as it looks or smells. It’s quite sweet, I promise. Now, let’s take a look at you.” She patted Kirheen on the leg and she sidled out of the way, creating enough space for Trista to sit down on the edge of the bed. “The fever and fatigue are quite noticeable. Are you experiencing anything else?”

  “Headaches, right here between my eyes. It feels like my skull is going to split in half.”

  “Ah, side effects of a near unbinding. Oops, I mean, well…” Tomias and Fenir shot her a startled look, a look that warned she’d said too much.

  Kirheen, not one to miss such a subtle shift in the conversation, looked interested. “What is that? An unbinding?”

  “Something you’ll learn about later – much later. Put it out of your mind for now. Do you feel anything else?”

  Garild could see the questions struggling to free themselves. Once she got an idea in her mind, it was hard to get her to think about anything else. Surprisingly, she held them at bay. “I feel nauseous, if that makes any difference.”

  “Good thing you mentioned that,” Trista said. She pulled a small, folded piece of parchment from her pouch. As she unwrapped it, Garild could see traces of a blue powder which she dumped into the vial Kirheen held. “Without this, those herbs
would have just made that particular symptom worse. This’ll help.”

  Kirheen stared at the vial as if she’d been handed poison. “Do I really have to drink this?”

  “Yes. And I suggest you do it all in one gulp. It’ll make it easier. Uh, Tomias, perhaps some water to wash it down?”

  “Of course,” he said, slipping from the room.

  Kirheen refused to take a single gulp of the mixture until he’d returned with water. Once it was within easy reach, she took a deep breath and brought the vial to her lips, downing the contents in a single go. Her mouth instantly puckered, and she thrust the vial towards Trista who quickly exchanged it for the cup of water. She downed the water just as quick, face scrunched as it washed away the remnants of the medicine. “Sweet was an understatement, Trista!”

  “I’m sorry,” she grinned. “I said it was sweet, not that it would taste good.”

  Kirheen made a gagging noise, sticking out a tongue tinged purple by the herbs. “So, what happens now?” she asked.

  “Now, you sleep. I’ve prepared two more vials for you, and I’ll add the additional herbs so it won’t make you sick. Take one after you wake up and the other tomorrow morning,” Trista explained. “I warn you though, this particular mix of herbs is going to make you hungry. Very hungry.”

  Kirheen groaned. “Oh great, just what I wanted.”

  Trista smiled. “We’ll let you rest now.” She quickly altered the two remaining vials of medicine and set them on the bedside table, then ushered Tomias and Fenir out of the room. After he was sure they’d gone, Garild turned his attention to Kirheen. She looked comfortable, nestled against the pillows, hands splayed over her stomach.

  “Are you feeling anything yet?”

  “A little sleepy,” she said, stifling a yawn.

  “You should get some rest.”

  She smirked. “Don’t tell me what to do, Garild.”

  Garild watched in amusement as she tried to fend off sleep, eyelids drooping and limbs relaxing. It only took a few minutes before she succumbed to the herbs, her breathing deepening as she sank into a peaceful slumber. He smiled, reaching down to tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear. She smiled in her sleep and his heart fluttered at the sight. With a sigh, he left the room, letting Kirheen enjoy her last day of rest before their training would begin in earnest.

  CHAPTER 8

  “Are you going to eat that?” Kirheen asked through a mouthful of food, pointing her spoon towards the bowl of soup Garild was eating. He gave her an annoyed glare, spoon halfway to his lips. There wasn't much left in his bowl, but Kirheen eyed it hungrily. Ever since she’d rolled out of bed, she’d been ravenous and had practically begged to go to the eating hall the second her feet had touched the floor.

  Trista had warned him he might face an impending hunger unlike anything he’d ever seen, but he hadn’t thought to take it quite so literally. She’d downed her soup, despite the heat of it making it all but inedible, in such haste that all the other Bonded looked at her as if she’d suddenly gone mad.

  “I had planned on it,” he said, snaking his left arm around his bowl protectively.

  Kirheen huffed. “I’m sorry, Garild. I’m just so hungry! I feel like I could eat ten bowls of this stuff!”

  “You can have the rest of mine,” Isa chirped from across the table. She passed the bowl over to Kirheen, the broth sloshing over the side as she slid it towards her. “I’m not that hungry this morning.”

  Kirheen barely managed to get a thank you out before her spoon was filled and diving towards her mouth. Isa gave her a thin smile, shifting uncomfortably as she watched Kirheen eat. “Kirheen, are you feeling all right?” she asked innocently. Ian nudged her, shaking his head as he watched Kirheen devour her meal. “On second thought, forget I asked.”

  Garild raced to finish his soup before his bond mate could finish hers. He just barely managed to down the last bite when she raised her head, eyes scanning the table for any bowl left untouched. Finding nothing left, she sulked.

  “How did training go yesterday?” Ian asked, trying to switch the focus away from Kirheen. The topic of training brought several of the other Bonded closer, though they still kept a respectable distance from Kirheen. She didn’t seem to notice.

  Garild shrugged. “With everything that has happened lately, we haven’t been able to do much training, at least not yet. We’re hoping to fix that today.”

  Tegan, a freckle faced boy with mousy brown hair and a gap between his front teeth, looked confused. “You haven’t trained yet? You’re really missing out.”

  “On what, exactly?” Kirheen asked, taking a second look at the bowl in front of Tegan, frowning as she found it just as empty as the first time she’d looked.

  “Well, I don’t know about the rest of you, but we’ve been playing games to help us learn about our powers. We’ve had to do simple things, like think of an object and have our bond mate figure out what we’re thinking of. So far, I’m winning.”

  Irena, his bond mate, glared at him out of the corner of her icy blue eyes. She was stunningly beautiful, her skin peachy and her long hair the color of honey, but her demeanor left much to be desired. She spoke little, but when she did, it was terse and spiteful. She seemed to view the rest of the Bonded the way Herzin did, as if they were all beneath her.

  Garild found it amusing that she’d been bonded with someone like Tegan. He’d grown up with Tegan and knew he was more interested in playing in the dirt and goofing off than he was at taking anything, or anyone, seriously. He was carefree and friendly where Irena was cold and distant. Garild almost felt sorry for Tegan. He could only hope Irena wouldn’t crush his kind spirit with her malice.

  “Lying isn’t becoming of you, Tegan. Why not tell them the truth? Tell them how much you’ve struggled just to use your powers at all.” Everyone at the table shifted uncomfortably while Tegan’s cheeks turned an impressively bright shade of red. “We need to leave. Harkin will be upset if we’re late and I’m not going to disappoint him for your sake,” she said pointedly, rising from the table. Chin held high, she strode from the room. Tegan followed after her, wiping at his eyes with his sleeve, chin tucked against his chest as he darted from the room.

  “She’s a tough one,” Ian grunted.

  “Ah, but her beauty cannot be denied,” said Burk, smiling a toothy smile as he watched them leave. Burk was built like a bear, easily towering over the others. He was laid back, almost to the point of being lazy, but his quick wit and jokes often had them all laughing.

  His bond mate, Abby, rolled her eyes. “Beautiful and an absolute terror.”

  “Jealous?” Burk grinned, earning himself a punch on the arm. Abby wasn’t exactly scrawny, and the punch she’d delivered left Burk rubbing his arm, grimacing as he tried to make the pain stop. “Ow!”

  “Hush. You deserved that and you know it,” she smirked. She was a perfect complement to Burk; kind, upbeat, and filled with enough wit to match Burk any day. It was easy to see why the two of them had been bonded.

  “Let’s go find Grant. I’ve an abuse to report,” Burk chided, tugging on her braid as he walked by. She frowned in annoyance, leapt from her seat, and managed another blow to his arm as she darted past him.

  “Make that two!”

  “Ow!”

  “As much as I hate to admit it, we should probably get going too,” Garild said. The remaining Bonded nodded in agreement and slowly, the room cleared of people, Garild and Kirheen following behind the others. She was unusually quiet, eyes unfocused.

  “Everything okay?” he asked, nudging her gently with his elbow.

  “Yeah. I’m fine,” she said, smiling sheepishly. “Feeling a tad sluggish.”

  “Might have something to do with all that food you just ate.”

  A blush crept across her cheeks. “Can we just forget that happened? I don’t know what came over me just now. She warned me about it, but I wasn’t expecting to feel quite like that.”

  Garild chuc
kled. “At least you’re feeling better. You don’t look half as green as you did yesterday.”

  “Well, that’s a start.”

  “Are you feeling ready for training?”

  Her smile vanished as if he’d just insulted her. She shook her head. “After what happened with Herzin, I can’t say I’m feeling very confident about all of this. I just don’t know if I’m willing to risk that happening again.”

  “It won’t be like that, you know? You really think Tomias and Fenir would do that to you? That I would do that to you?”

  “No, no. I just…”

  “I understand. You don’t have to explain. Just promise me you’ll try.”

  As she met his gaze, he could see the overwhelming fear burning in her gray eyes, an apprehension that words couldn’t possibly take away. “I’ll try.”

  CHAPTER 9

  Tomias and Fenir sat on the steps outside, eyes locked in a silent debate. Kirheen could feel their powers, knew there was a discussion taking place in their minds, but with the angry looks they were giving each other, she wasn’t sure it was a discussion she wanted to hear. At the sound of her and Garild approaching, Tomias broke eye contact with his brother.

  “Ah, a most welcome distraction. How are you two doing?”

  “Better,” Kirheen replied. Whatever Trista had given her seemed to be doing the trick. Aside from her earlier attempt to eat everything in sight, she was starting to feel like herself again. “I hope we aren’t interrupting anything.”

  Tomias’ eyes were daggers as he glanced at his brother. “Not at all. Just having a pleasant discussion with my bond mate. I’m debating whether or not my life would be less complicated without him.”

  Fenir grunted.

  “Fenir would like you both to know that he is mute, not deaf. He can’t speak, but he can still hear, which I find very hard to believe considering how often he misses the point during our little chats.”

  Kirheen cleared her throat. “Should we leave you two to sort things out? I’m feeling a bit of tension here.”