Shattered

by Stef M Ensing

  “Uh-huh,” Payton mumbled, not believing him for a second.

  “I came into magic late in my childhood. While I was always sensitive to it no one ever thought I had it myself. Until I was ten. A child from my town had fallen off a bridge and was injured terribly and the other children were running back to go get the adults while I stayed with her. I remember desperately wanting to help her but not knowing how. I was holding her hand to comfort her when something extraordinary happened.”

  He told the story well even if it was a simple and straightforward tale. There was something easily captivating about him and his voice. Something she was sure he had used to his advantage.

  “A white light appeared and I felt her pain. Then her wounds began to heal. When the adults arrived they saw what I did and none of them could believe it. It took near a week for things to die down and even then the town’s Druid was still testing me with inflicting minor injuries on someone and seeing what I could do.”

  “That’s… horrible!” Payton said aghast.

  He blinked, clearly not expecting this reaction. “What?”

  “You were just a child and they were using you for experiments? Purposely injuring people just to see if you could fix it? What would happen if you couldn’t? How would that have made you feel?”

  “I… I never thought of it that way.” He was silent for a few moments. “Honestly, all I’ve ever seen was how they were unlocking this gift in me. They kept praising me and talking about how I was special. How rare healing was. I mean, in all of Malvathar there was only two healers. Hundreds of thousands of people, thousands of mages, and only two healers. I’m sure the people were volunteering but still…” He looked at her intently. “You are a peculiar woman.”

  “For noticing an atrocity?”

  “Well if you put it like that…” After a few seconds, he shook his head as if to clear his thoughts and then continued. “I was sent to train first with the healer at the southern part of Malvathar and then when I was a teen I was at the capital with the primary, the healer to the King. I learned all I could and once I was an adult I set out to see the world. Which eventually brought me here.”

  “Where you became the friendly neighborhood healer for hire?” she guessed.

  “You’re quick on the uptake.”

  She downed another couple sips. “I’m guessing from Nyla’s warning, you use this “I’m so special” story to get women to swoon and fall. Because who wouldn’t want to claim they got to spend the night with one of the rarest forms of people in existence: a magical healer.”

  “You’re cutting me to the quick here, love.”

  “Have you ever considered talking to a woman instead of trying to trick or falsely woo her?” she questioned.

  Nyla was back and she was laughing harder. “I have asked him that more than once. Usually, it ends with him giving me puppy eyes and asking for a kiss because I hurt his pride.”

  “I have never… oh, you two are infuriating. Separate corners of the room, immediately. I can’t have either of you becoming closer friends.” He was obviously pretending to be cross because there was a smile on his lips and amusement in his eyes.

  “Hear that, we’ve got him on the run,” Nyla said with a grin.

  Payton was too busy staring at the empty tankard to care. “Oh joy.”

  “How about you?” Atherly tried to bring her back into a conversation.

  “Vaelorn. Aodhan.” She set the mug down a little too hard.

  “Aodhan? Isn’t that where… oh,” Atherly trailed off.

  “Shit. You know what, next drink is on me,” Nyla offered.

  Payton didn’t want the pity and under any normal circumstances, she would tell them to forget it but… she wasn’t going to refuse a free drink. Not tonight. “Thanks.”

  “Anyone that can put Atherly in his place deserves a couple of free drinks,” Nyla said with a wink before disappearing to fetch her one.

  Atherly’s head whipped up. “Hey!”

  As Payton began sipping the new drink and the two bar mates began a good nature bickering that she suspected might be for her benefit, she wondered if the two of them were attempting to befriend her.

  Strange thing to think about. Friends. Just before boarding the ship to Imeryn, they had contacted someone who lived in a little town just south of the capital who would be willing to help them. They had little coin but desperation to learn of who survived the siege, and the family friend was more than happy to spend her own coin if it meant she got to be the queen of gossip in her own little hamlet. It had been only two days since they got their answer. Of the handful of names each of them listed for her: Isiah had nine answers – seven living, two confirmed dead; Samuel had six – four living, one missing, one confirmed dead, but Payton, she had had a dozen or so names listed. People she knew through all her odd jobs, people she had picked up along her random path in life and had simply wound up sticking to her. A dozen or so names had been there. A dozen people she had called friend. And only one had been confirmed to have made it out of Aodhan. Five were confirmed dead. The rest were simply missing. It was still a raw wound in her chest, one she was not sure would ever fully mend because deep down a part of her felt as though she had abandoned her friends to their fate and, like her mother’s death, she could never forgive herself for that.

  And now she was presented with these new people. Bizarre, outgoing, and honestly hilarious people who were actively trying to cheer her up. For what purpose? They did not know her, had no idea who she was, no idea how stubborn or how awful she could be. But they didn’t care. It was like they had decided unanimously and silently that they could not let her wallow in her own frustration and grief. And that was almost like having her friends back. Almost.

  Perhaps this city was truly meant for new beginnings.

  Chapter Ten

  It was the middle of the work week, not that that meant anything when they were working for Yannis. One day off a week and it was random when the day was given. Or if the day was given. But nevertheless it was the middle of the work week and they had pulled a taxing day hauling crates in and out of seven ships in frigid misting rain. They had come home soggy and wet and weary. Not even the fire that was currently burning could make the heat seep back into them.

  Payton was just collecting the empty bowls that had once contained a less than hearty stew when there was a hesitant knock on the door. It was clear none of them were expecting visitors but Simmons – after taking a drink from his ever-present bottle of something alcoholic – got up to answer it. The way his body stiffened and shifted made it clear he did not like whoever was at the door.

  A second later he abandoned it, heading back to the table to grab his bottle. “It’s for you, Sam,” he said before heading to the back room.

  The door, having been left slightly ajar, gave them all a glimpse of who waited there. A red-haired man dressed in a guard’s uniform was hesitantly peering inside looking a little startled at the reaction he had just gotten. Samuel gave a start, jerking up from the table so suddenly that he bashed his knee into it. He tried to brush off the action as nothing but the way his face had flushed indicated his self-consciousness.

  “Darcy…” the name came in place of a greeting.

  Payton and Isiah exchanged half hidden smirks at the expense of their younger brother. Samuel invited his friend in out of the damp weather but then stood there fumbling over his words.

  “Why are you… I mean what… hi.”

  “Hi,” the man greeted, an amused smile stretching across his lips. “I trust you are well?”

  Samuel nodded. “Well enough.” He shifted awkwardly in place and then rubbed the back of his head, his fingers tangling in the mop of black hair. “Not… not that you’re not welcome, I mean you are, but… what are you doing here?”

  A grim expression replaced the one of ease and pleasure. “I’m afraid I bring bad news. I did not know if you had heard.”

  “Heard what?”


  “The Templars have claimed another city in Vaelorn,” he replied quietly.

  Isiah set his tankard of water down heavily. “What?” he demanded, drawing the attention to him.

  Darcy’s brown eyes flitted between the brothers before settling on the elder. “Word came to the Arbiter and the Guard-Captain earlier today. I imagine it’ll be spread through the rest of the city before midnight.” He looked back to Samuel and his voice softened. “I did not want you to hear it from a gossip who thought it nothing more than the latest sensational news.”

  Samuel gave him a weak smile to thank him but it was all he could muster.

  “What city?” Isiah was in no mood to play nice. “Do you have any idea how far they have spread?”

  The man appeared a little flustered. “Illara. But I’m afraid I don’t know enough of Vaelorn geography to know where that is. I was simply informed it was taken some time in the last few days.” Isiah let out a few choice curses and disappeared into their shared room. Samuel and Payton gave Darcy a sheepish look but he held up his hand to stall their apologies. “I understand. I should let you be with your family.”

  “Darcy, I…” Samuel searched for the right thing to say but apparently did not find it because his shoulders collapsed and he gave another failed smile. “Thank you. Again. You did not have to bring us this.”

  “Yes. I did. I hope to see you soon, Samuel.” Darcy bid them both goodnight.

  Payton had to bite back a laugh as she saw her brother watch the man walk away, likely until he was out of sight before he closed the door. When Samuel turned around and saw her, his face went crimson.

  “Don’t say anything,” he warned.

  “Anything,” she replied belligerently.

  He groaned and sat down just as Isiah marched out. Isiah flattened a piece of rolled parchment on the table, dropping the empty bowls on either end to keep it from curling up on itself. His fingers ran across the page, his green eyes darting over it before he found what he was looking for.

  “They are moving east.” He tapped the location he had found.

  Northeast of Aodhan in the Plains of Mynefis, where a large number of the crops for the nation grew, sat Illara. It unsettled her how many towns were marked on the map between the two cities and made her wonder if word would only come if major population centers fell. After all, in the wake of thousands and hundreds of thousands losing their homes, who in other countries would care to hear word on little hamlets of a few hundred at most. It wasn’t dramatic, it wasn’t good gossip. Payton scowled at the thought but knew she had hit the nail on the head.

  “Pack this away before dad comes back,” she ordered.

  “We can’t keep this from him,” Isiah said, aghast she could even think it.

  She glared at him. “Of course we aren’t going to hide this from him. I doubt we even could. But we aren’t going to parade a map with a giant ‘X’ through the city where we lost our mother!” She jerked a finger at the pencil etchings Isiah had made on the map, crossing off each of the known locations that Templars had overtaken.

  Isiah had the decency to look embarrassed and began to do as she asked. “Do you think something will finally be done about those bastards?”

  Payton stacked the bowls on top of each other, taking care not to look at him as she turned toward the kitchen. She knew the answer, deep down she knew and she knew it was not what he wanted to hear. But she couldn’t say that.

  “We can only hope,” she said instead.

  It was two days before Isiah had his answer. Two days before the truth that had brought them here was once again shoved into his face. Two days before Isiah went absolutely crazy when he heard what the Caliph’s response was to the latest attack.

  “Nothing!” Isiah flung another dish against the wall hard enough Payton was certain it was going to be dented. “The Caliph, mistress ruler on high, the woman we have trusted our entire lives to take care of us and be fair and kind and….” He threw a plate at the wall this time. “UGH! She is still doing nothing!”

  “Well, I don’t think she’s going to stand against that wall for your target practice,” Payton snapped, hoping it might get him to stop. It didn’t. A stein and a bowl were the next victims. “You’ll run out of dishes soon.”

  “Then I’ll throw a fucking chair!”

  She arched her brow at him. “If you break it, you’re fixing it. And until then, you’ll sit on the floor.” This seemed to snap him out of his temper long enough that he took his hand off the back of the chair he had apparently been seconds away from tossing. “Good. Now take a step back and breathe.”

  “Don’t patronize me.”

  “You’re the one who went mental on me,” she argued.

  “Aren’t you mad about this? Aren’t you angry that our country is doing nothing while innocent men, women, and children are being murdered just because they have magic?” he challenged, slamming his fists on the table and leaning toward her aggressively.

  Payton stared at him. “Stop trying to get a rise out of me. I refuse to stoop to your level.”

  “Creators, who put this boring bitch in place of my sister.”

  “Hey!”

  “Since when do you ever sit around and do nothing when something so categorically wrong is happening?” he shot darkly.

  “I am not sitting around doing nothing. I am taking care of my family like I am supposed to. Like I promised I would!” she shouted back. Her voice had been shaking at the end but she didn’t care anymore. Damn him and his temper. “I am doing what I have to in order to keep everyone safe and alive. That’s what mom would have wanted. Hell, that’s what you and Sam bully me about nearly every day at the docks. “Don’t punch the boss, Payton. Don’t backtalk. Give me that dagger, there is no such thing as just a little stabbing a person.” I’ve been behaving just like you lot asked me to,” she mocked all the things that had been said to her.

  “Oh screw you,” he retorted, unable to come up with something better.

  “Real mature.”

  “You’re looking for mature?” He pushed himself up and was leaning across the table again. “Why don’t we stop listening to the grief-stricken orders of a widower and do what’s right!”

  “And what is right in this? Who decides between family and the greater good?” Payton shook her head. “Nothing the Templars do is right. That’s obvious enough but that doesn’t mean abandoning our father to go fight them is the right thing to do. It doesn’t mean breaking up our family and endangering yourself is the right thing to do. We’ve barely survived losing mom. How would we ever survive if another one of us dies?”

  “And what about the other people dying out there? The other families being separated by death and this war. What about them?” Isiah pushed. “Who fights for them?”

  She did not have an answer for him and he knew it. She knew what he wanted her to say. Knew what she might have said had they not had their family fallen apart when their mother died. Had their mother not died at all, things might have been completely different. But their mother was dead. And since Payton felt as though she was scrambling each and every moment to feel as though her family was not being held together by tiny threads that could snap at any moment. How could she possibly justify saving anyone when she couldn’t even save the most important people in her life?

  Sensing her conundrum, Isiah just shook his head and turned away, storming out of the house. He took the courtesy of slamming the door behind him. Never had the thud of a shutting door sounded so resolute and terrifying.

  Chapter Eleven

  She wasn’t sure what had woken her. It had been another long day. Yannis had overworked them and shortened the midday break. It was practically criminal but she wisely kept her mouth shut. The mantra she had made up: “I need this job. I need this money. I can’t fix stupid by punching it out of someone.” was about the only thing that got her through the day. Nonetheless, between the work and trying to keep her temper in check, she was exhausted by t
he end of the day and had crawled into bed mumbling something about being awoken for dinner. That time had come and past, she nibbled on a lump of stale bread and then rolled over again. But now she was awake and still didn’t know why.

  She slipped out of bed, grimacing when she realized she had been in the cot with her boots. Her bed would now smell of fish and mud if it didn’t already. Tiptoeing forward in an effort not to wake her brothers, she pulled the door open a sliver, light from the front room spilling in. She could see her father and Simmons at the table, drinking. That was not a surprise. Their voices could easily reach her. Maybe one of them got louder and that’s what had awoken her. It wouldn’t have been the first time.

  She was in the process of shutting the door when she heard her name. Payton stilled, wondering if she had been caught spying but neither man was looking toward the room. Her father had a dark expression on his face, clearly processing something.

  “You’ve been pretty cold to her,” Simmons said observationally.

  “I know.” Her father sighed and bowed his head in shame. “I know. I just… I can’t.”

  “Can’t what?”

  “Can’t look at her,” he croaked.

  Payton’s grip on the knob tightened, her knuckles beginning to turn white. She knew she shouldn’t be listening and yet she could not bring herself to turn away.

  “She’s a damn fine thing to look at.” Simmons chuckled at the appalled look her father shot his way. “I know she’s your daughter but you’ve got to have eyes man.”

  Her father scowled and then took a long drink from his tankard. “She looks like her mother,” he whispered. “She has Elaine’s hair, her eyes… face. She looks so much like her mother it kills me to see it.”

  Payton always knew her resemblance to her mother was strong but she had not thought…

  “So that’s what this is? You’re avoiding looking at your daughter because she reminds you of Elaine?”

  “You make it sound so simple.”