by B. K. Boes
“The rod was a trigger,” the priest said. “There is often a trigger in a vision, something small — a sound or a specific movement — that brings everything into focus when it happens in real life. What happened next?”
“I didn’t know what to do at first. My body wouldn’t move. As soon as I could, I ran to stop Jenna, but I didn’t get to her before she went inside the barn. I should have stopped Jenna. I could have even stopped the fire. It’s all my fault!” Jabin started sobbing, and he was glad his mother was there. She pulled him into her arms, and his tears soaked into the shoulder of her dress.
“No! Jabin, sweetheart, it’s not your fault. It’s not,” his mother said.
“Not this time,” Oracle Lan said. “You were in shock. The first vision is always a shock.”
Jabin pulled away from his mother. “I don’t want to have any more dreams. Can you make them go away?”
“No,” the oracle said. “You are chosen.”
Chapter Fourteen
Moloch
The City of Eunoya, Eikon
10th Cycle of Chenack
986 Post Schism
Moloch collapsed on his own bed, grateful to be off the road once more. For seven cycles, he had traveled frequently back and forth to Patriphos. There was always an official reason, of course, but the true purpose was always to spend more time with Junia. Just one cycle after her arrival, Princess Naova had become a ward of the king until her marriage. Junia had likewise agreed to continue as Naova’s companion and chaperone.
Never had Moloch been so happy. Never had he felt so close to another human being. Junia occupied his thoughts nearly every second of the day, and when he was with her, she made him feel like he could accomplish anything.
A knock on his door brought Moloch out of his thoughts. He jumped up off the bed and walked through his sitting room to the door. Rendre had already opened it. Moloch’s good mood took a dive.
“Waen.” Moloch nodded once, any traces of a smile now gone.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” Waen said, his voice even and calculated.
Moloch gestured in a wide motion to his sitting room. “Have a seat, brother. It’s been too long.”
Waen smirked. “Has it?” In half a dozen long strides, Waen was in front of the small sofa. He sat, back straight, hands resting on his thighs, eyes focused on Moloch.
“What do you want?” Moloch sat across from Waen, his posture relaxed. He crossed one foot to rest on the opposite knee and smiled when Waen twitched. It infuriated Waen when Moloch threw propriety to the wind, mostly because their father didn’t seem to care one way or the other, no matter how much “better” Waen was.
“I’d like to speak in private.” Waen gestured toward Rendre, who raised his brow and looked at Moloch.
Moloch waved Rendre away, and the servant promptly stepped out into the hall.
“I’ve got good news.” The corner of Waen’s lips turned upward into an almost-smile. “While you’ve been playing, I’ve been working.”
“Building trust with the prince is hardly playing,” Moloch said, but he frowned when mention of the prince didn’t yield even a blink of an eye from his brother.
“Please. You’ve been going to see that Ergonian woman. Lady Junia Nondrum, isn’t it?” Waen smiled. “You’ve not even begun courting her, and yet you follow her around like an adoring puppy. I’ve heard the rumors.”
Moloch could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, but he kept his voice even. “Get to the point, Waen. I’ve got things to do. In the midst of my playing I’ve got a meeting with the city council. As their future Duke, I want to guide them. Give them room to be innovative. Our great city has a responsibility to the nation. Or have you forgotten? Because I certainly don’t see you taking charge of anything.”
Waen’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t flaunt half-baked plans and ideas, Moloch. Meetings are for announcements and informing the public. In fact, I was hoping I could step in on your city council meeting. I’ve secured a marriage with the daughter of the Duke of Okleria, and with it will come cheaper medicines and more access to Eikon’s most talented healers.”
Moloch’s eyes widened. Damn the Other.
“Our two great cities will be working together in the future. Don’t you see the possibilities?” Waen relaxed just a tad, enough for Moloch to see he knew he’d dealt a blow.
Eunoya was Eikon’s center for charity and brotherhood, responsible for planning and executing the care of the poor as well as fostering national patriotism. Okleria was the center of medicine and research, responsible for training healers and furthering knowledge in the medical field.
Wonderful. The city council will be overjoyed.
Moloch leaned forward, planting both feet firmly on the ground, resting his elbows on his knees. “Junia’s father is the Duke of Pytar, Waen. She’s cousin to our future queen. I admit you have a good match, and Eunoya will be better for it. But imagine what will happen when I secure a match with Junia. Your marriage will be a happy footnote. Nothing more.”
Waen smiled then, and he laughed.
Moloch sat back and stared at his brother. A lump began to form in his stomach. “What is it? What do you know?”
“If I told you, it wouldn’t be quite so fun.” Waen stood, still smiling. It looked strange on him. “I’d best be going. We have a meeting with the council.”
Moloch flew to his feet and grabbed Waen’s collar. There was something important under all the pomp, and Moloch wanted to know what it was. “Tell me. Now.”
Waen’s smile disappeared. That cold, calculating look settled back into his eyes. He broke Moloch’s hold, but Moloch swung his fist without even thinking, connecting with Waen’s jaw. Waen feigned a hit to Moloch’s face and came in underhand to land a blow to his side. It knocked the wind out of him, and Moloch fell to his knees, gasping for breath. Waen moved his jaw back and forth, rubbing the spot where Moloch had hit.
“I’ll tell you this,” he said. “You’ve secured nothing. Go ahead. Try to gain Lord Nondrum’s blessing. See what happens.”
Moloch steadied his breathing, pushing past the pain, hoping his brother only bruised his ribs instead of cracking them. He couldn’t speak through the sharp pangs radiating from his side.
Waen turned and left without another word. When he’d gone, Rendre came back inside. The servant rushed to Moloch, eyes wide and mouth gaping.
“My lord, what happened? Should I call the healer?” he asked as he tried to help Moloch to his feet.
Moloch shook his head. “There’s still time before the city council meeting. I’ll be fine. Help me to the bed.” He squeezed his eyes shut as Rendre assisted him across the sitting room to his bed. Careful not to further disturb his injury, he lay on his back, recalling what his mother had taught him about cracked ribs when he was younger. “Jensew. Ask my mother for Jensew, for the pain. And Ruh, ground and mixed with water.”
“Of course, my lord.” Rendre looked over his shoulder and then back at Moloch. “Should I inform your father about what happ—”
“No,” Moloch said firmly. “It would be best if he didn’t know.” The servant began to walk away, but Moloch stopped him. “Rendre?” He turned around at the doorway to face Moloch once more. Moloch swallowed. “I’ll need a message delivered to the Duke of Pytar. Bring me my stationery and things. And my seal. It will need to be given to a rider as soon as possible.”
Rendre gathered the seal, stationery, ink, and quill and laid them beside Moloch on his side table before hurrying off to find Moloch’s mother. She would know by the request for Jensew and Ruh paste that Moloch had been injured. Most likely, she’d bring them to Moloch herself. Moloch grunted with pain as he sat upright. He had to get the letter written now, before his mother came to fuss over him. It was difficult to keep his hand steady as he wrote a short request for a meeting with Lord Nondrum. When it was finished, he folded the letter and slipped it inside an envelope. He held his wax over the open flame of
a candle on the side table. When it started to drip, he let a few drops fall on the envelope to close it. Then, he pushed the Sarrem seal into the wax. His side was growing numb by the time he was done, his stomach churned, and his head swam. Waen’s words echoed in his mind, making it all that much worse.
Chapter Fifteen
Kaela
Kytar, A Lone Mountain
Desert of Eidolon, Erem
10th Cycle of Chenack
986 Post Schism
Traveling without a tribe was boring. There was no music, no children to play with, no gossip to listen to. There wasn’t even a sandbeast herd milling forward off to the side, just one up front pulling them across the desert. Though they weren’t terribly entertaining, the large, shaggy beasts with their thin tails swishing at flies were better than watching sand. Kaela liked their young, who bucked and moved faster than the others. It seemed to Kaela that sandbeasts liked to race and play with one another. And when their coats grew down to their knees, the beasts were shaved, the hair set aside to make all sorts of things. But then, they looked so strange, without their hair. Like monstrous dogs.
But now, on her family’s journey to start a new life with a new tribe, there was nothing to see or do. Just miles and miles of desert in every direction. And Momma had insisted on covering the wire arches of the sandsled with canvas for the trip, to keep the sun off. That left only the back open for viewing, not that there was anything interesting out there, anyway.
And so, naturally, Kaela felt the need to once again express her displeasure. She groaned as loud as she could. “Mooommmma! How much looonger?”
Poppa looked over his shoulder from the front seat of their sandsled, and he and Momma talked with their looks. His darker eyes were full of laughter, while her lighter amber ones had a touch of exasperation. Poppa chuckled and shrugged at Kaela, which made her frown.
“Kaela,” Momma said. “We have a few days of travel ahead of us still. Why don’t you help me weave?” Momma handed a half-finished basket to Kaela while she readjusted the canvas to shade them from the early evening sun.
“You could do some mending, too, if you’d like,” Poppa said without turning his head. For a moment, Kaela thought about joining him on the plank. At least from there she could watch the desert go by.
“You’re always trying to join the weaving circles. Now’s your chance to practice,” Momma said.
“All right,” Kaela said, but the only reason she liked the women’s weaving circles was because of all the stories. She looked up at her mother with eager eyes. “Do you have any stories?”
“Stories?” Momma asked.
“Yes. Oh! Do you know if Marta’s sister is really to be matched with Birn? Marta doesn’t like him. Says he eats too much.” Kaela shook her head and clicked her tongue in the characteristic way of a weaver.
“Kaela!” Momma gave Kaela’s head a good thumping.
“Ouch! Why did you do that?” Kaela rubbed her head.
Poppa laughed.
“Rollan, it’s not funny!” Momma bent forward and tried to slap Poppa’s back, but her fingertips barely brushed him.
“It’s a little funny,” Poppa said. “Why do you think she would choose weaving and mending over lessons with her Sava?”
Momma’s brow furrowed, and she bit her lip, but that didn’t stop her from laughing, too. It was good to see her smile and carry on with Poppa. She’d been so sad when she’d lost another baby, just a span before leaving the Nonnka. She rested her forehead in her hand before she looked at Kaela. “I think you should stick to your own kinds of stories, little one. The ones from history and legend. Why don’t I weave and you recite?”
That didn’t sound too bad. So, Kaela cleared her throat and imagined the way Sava would tell the story of the First Prophet who couldn’t stop The Schism. And Kaela tried to tell it like that. Her Sava, after all, was the best storyteller.
The bustle at the base of Kytar Mountain was a shock after spending days with only Momma and Poppa. The symbol on the back of Kaela’s neck tingled, and she had to put up her walls a little higher. Even with them firmly in place, emotions still floated in the air like dust, tickling the edges of her mind. There were just too many people at the Lone Mountain market to block them out completely. But, she closed her eyes and traced the spiraling circle at her nape, concentrating on her walls until she no longer felt the pull to let the emotions in. The longer they stayed near the mountain, the less effort she’d have to expend. Sava never explained why, but something about the Lone Mountains subdued her curse. It happened every time she visited one of them. She would just have to wait for its effects to take hold.
Now, Kaela could peek outside the canvased sandsled and observe without the distraction of emotions. The Eremites who mined the three Lone Mountains, which were each several days’ journey from each other, didn’t allow outsiders to enter, but they traded like anybody else. Year round, they facilitated camps at the base of their mountains.
Poppa stopped the sandsled outside the camp, a short distance from the rows of permanent tents. There were a few other sandsleds sitting by themselves, but most of those visiting would be camped in clusters. Tribes of every kind came to Mountain Markets to trade skins, dried meat, cloth, and all manner of items they gathered while traveling and trading. They would camp a half-day’s journey from the mountain and send smaller groups into the market to buy, sell, and trade.
Poppa made sure to stop near a well. The first thing he did was refill their waterskins. Once he’d done so, he brought them back to the sandsled.
“I’ll be back,” Poppa said as he kissed Momma’s cheek. “If the lines at the Council’s Dispatch are long, I might be a while.”
Momma waved away his warning, taking the waterskins and handing one to Kaela. “We’ll be fine, won’t we Kaela?”
“Yes, Momma,” Kaela said with a downcast face. She was hoping they would all go into the Mountain Market together. But, Poppa seemed concerned that the Hodda might have already waited for their little family too long. The Council’s Dispatch would have more information, and probably a note from the Hodda Patriarch telling Poppa where to meet.
Kaela sighed. Maybe they just got here, and we can stay a while. Once the effects of the mountain took hold, Kaela always had so much fun at the Mountain Market. Without her walls to maintain, she could breathe freely, enjoy the crowds, and have a little fun.
As Poppa hopped down to the desert floor and headed toward the market, Kaela turned her attention to the scene before her, sipping her water.
From where she sat on the backend of the sandsled, the white tents almost blurred together, except one very large red one, which stood in stark contrast. There would be more of those scattered throughout the market. The color marked it as belonging to the people of Kytar Mountain. They produced unique metals and gems that couldn’t be found anywhere else, as did their sister peoples at the other Lone Mountains. They also sold glow orbs for more coin than Kaela’s family would see in half a year. Poppa said that was why they were so secretive, why they never let others inside their mountains. Kaela could hear her grandmother’s voice, almost see her disgruntled frown as she would talk about the Lone Mountain people.
They may live in Erem, but they’re not Eremite. They’re something other. They don’t keep history. They keep secrets.
Still, each of the three Mountain Markets was a mysterious place to Kaela, full of potential for the imagination. It was especially interesting because the people of the Lone Mountains were the only people she wasn’t allowed to talk to. Momma and Sava said there was a darkness in them.
They can’t be all bad… Kaela thought. I have a darkness in me, too. Doesn’t everyone, just a little?
Sava had told her that once, when she’d been distraught over her condition. She said everyone had demons to fight, but that hers were simply more tangible.
Kaela watched from the sandsled, little faraway figures moving in streams up and down the market thoroughfar
e. Her eyes widened, and she leaned forward when a splotch of red pierced the crowd like an arrowhead. It was a group of Lone Mountain soldiers — that was another thing that set them apart from the pacifist tribes. But, Kaela couldn’t keep her eyes off them. Every time she’d seen a group of soldiers like this, they were led by a woman in red leather armor. The soldiers under her wore black and always carried a variety of weapons. Not like Eikonians, who always had a sword, or Ergonians who always had axes.
As the soldiers disappeared into the mouth of a guarded cave, Kaela’s shoulders slumped and she sat back, taking another drink. It was becoming easier to maintain her walls. “Why can’t we go explore, Momma?” She couldn’t explain, but as the curse quieted in the shadow of the mountain, Kaela could walk freely among the crowds here, unlike anywhere else.
Momma was still weaving. “Poppa will be back soon, little one. We must wait to hear what the Hodda are doing before we make any plans. They could be ready to leave.”
Kaela plopped on the floor of the sandsled and tried to think about something besides the adventure she was missing. The unfamiliar foods, strange clothing, trinkets, the quiet air free from emotions…
She sighed.
It was hard to wait for Poppa to return. Kaela sang, and recited stories, and tried to braid her long, curly black hair. It didn’t take too long for those things to bore her, so Kaela practiced her mending, making her stitches as tiny as she could. After she pricked her finger one too many times, which was really only twice, she set aside the cloth and needle and peeked out of their sandsled again.
“Patience,” Momma said as she pulled out a piece of dried meat from their trunk. “Here, have something to eat.”