The Restorer's Journey

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The Restorer's Journey Page 9

by Sharon Hinck


  I found Tristan’s house and tapped on the door. I had to knock a couple of times before a small crack appeared. Eyes peered out at me and then the door swung wide.

  “Jake! What are you doing here?” Tara pulled me in and quickly closed the door. She gathered me in a hug, then pulled back to stare at me like she couldn’t believe her eyes.

  Her white hair swirled around her head, and her smile was warm, but she looked older than I remembered. “Are you alone?” she asked.

  I nodded. “I just came from Lyric. They wouldn’t let me into the town. What’s going on? Is Tristan around? I need to talk to him.”

  A shadow crossed her face—the hawk passing over the prairie dog town again. “Tristan and Kendra had to leave.”

  My stomach felt like lead. “Where did they go?”

  Tara helped me out of my wet poncho. She shook it out with a snap and draped it over a chair. “They couldn’t tell me. It’s safer that way.” She looked up at me with misery in her eyes.

  I sank into a chair, afraid to find out more but desperate for information. “Do you know where my mom is?”

  Her eyes widened, and she pulled out a chair for herself. “Why? Didn’t she go back to your world?”

  “Yes, but then Cameron and Medea came and took her. They beat up my dad, and they’re planning something bad.” My voice got louder. “They were bringing some bags of stuff back with them.”

  Tara shushed me and looked around like enemies were hiding in the closets. “Jake, be careful what you say.”

  My head was starting to hurt. I should have stopped to eat lunch on the trail. Tara hadn’t offered me anything. Things must be really bad.

  She looked down. “Don’t speak against the king.”

  “King? What are you talking about? And why did the guards in Lyric tell me there’s no more Council? How much time has gone by since we left?”

  Tara leaned forward and spoke in a low voice. “Only two seasons. Two long, dark seasons for the People of the Verses.”

  I struggled to work out the math. If I remembered right, a season was about sixty days—the length of time it took for their major grain crop to mature. The equivalent of four months had passed.

  “But we came through the portal within an hour after they took her.”

  “Your father is here?” Tara’s eyes flashed with hope.

  I shook my head. “He didn’t make it through. I’m not sure why. His plan was for us to get to Lyric before Cameron and find help to stop him. Please tell me what’s happened. And where is my mom?”

  Tara reached forward and took one of my hands in hers. She answered the important question first. “I’m sorry, Jake. I haven’t heard any news of your mother. Tristan came back from Lyric and told me that your family had left. He told me about how Kieran stopped Zarek’s army and that Kieran was going back to Hazor with a few of the songkeepers. We could hardly believe that Hazor wasn’t going to be a threat anymore. We had a huge celebration.” She smiled sadly. “That was the last time we’ve had a reason to celebrate.”

  I shivered. She offered to make me some hot clavo, but I shook my head.

  “It wasn’t long after that—a few days I think—that the announcement came. They sent messengers to all the clans. Cameron had discovered some old Records that had been lost and gave them to the songkeepers. The clans were called to listen to them, even though it wasn’t quite season-end.”

  Tara’s shoulders seemed to grow heavier as she talked. “The Records told of a time when two Restorers would rise up in one generation and mark the end of the line of Restorers. The new Verses said that it was the sign of a new era for our people. We were to disband the Council and instead become a people strong and secure like the nations around us by honoring one king to lead us. The leader of the city where the One dwells was to be king.”

  “Cameron,” I said, feeling sick.

  She nodded. “It all happened very fast. What could we do? We could oppose a law we thought was unjust or a plan we believed was wrong, but we couldn’t oppose the holy Records. Cameron disbanded the guardians—just kept the Council guards who were loyal to him. He called all the transtechs to Lyric to produce weapons. Kahlarea had attacked the outpost again, and war threatened the River Borders. Cameron said he would lead the people to safety when the time was right. In the meantime, he . . .” She swallowed and looked away. “He gave Rendor to the Kahlareans to appease them.”

  I sagged back. “Rendor? That’s my father’s clan.” When Dad and I had fenced together, he’d told me about his clan. It was a part of me.

  Tara nodded and pursed her lips. “Tristan and Kendra had to run. Kieran had warned them what Cameron would do to them if it were ever in his power. Now everything is in his power.”

  “This is crazy!” I jumped to my feet and paced. “Cameron is lying. Somehow he’s got everyone convinced he’s supposed to be king, but this is all wrong. We’ve got to stop him.”

  Tara pulled me back down and leaned forward. “Jake, be quiet. Don’t speak against the appointed king. I don’t like it either, but we can’t disobey the Records.” Her voice was quiet but intense.

  I ran a hand through my hair. “What am I going to do? I’ve got to find out what Cameron did with my mom. And I can prove he’s lying.” I was about to tell her about the Restorer signs that I had but stopped myself. Maybe this wasn’t the time.

  “Grandma? Can we come out now?” Aubrey’s voice chirped from the hallway, and then Dustin’s head popped around the corner.

  His big eyes grew even wider. “Jake!” He launched himself across the room at me, Aubrey close behind him. I laughed as they tumbled into me, almost knocking me from the chair. They were thin, and their faces were drawn and pale. I glanced at Tara, and she saw my reaction.

  “Food has been short. Repairing the damage to Morsal Plains wasn’t one of the king’s priorities.”

  I reached for my backpack and pulled out granola bars for the kids. I had to show them how to rip open the wrappers. “Will you play soccer with us?” Dustin asked with his mouth full.

  I tried to smile but couldn’t. “Sorry, I have some things to take care of. Maybe another time.” Tara shooed them out of the room, and it worried me to see how little energy they had to protest. Back home, Jon squirmed through dinner and Anne chattered nonstop. They drove me crazy half the time, but that’s how kids were supposed to act. Seeing Dustin and Aubrey that subdued scared me.

  “What am I going to do?” I asked again.

  Tara studied me for a minute. She leaned forward and spoke in a whisper. “There are some men, former guardians, who are avoiding the king’s mandates. They aren’t opposing him directly, but they’ve gathered and are staying hidden. Mind you, I don’t approve.”

  Yeah, yeah. She’d made the point and then some. “I understand. Can you tell me how to find them?”

  She hesitated and then sighed. “Yes. I’ll take you now.” I grabbed my gear, and she led me down a path and directed me to a trail leading up to a ridgeline. “There are caves up there. The men all rode with Tristan. You can trust them. I just don’t know what any of you can do now. Maybe when the hostilities with the Kahlareans are over, you can petition to see Cameron and ask him about your mother.”

  I took a deep breath and drew myself up. I wouldn’t add to her fears by arguing with her about Cameron. “Thank you for your help.” She nodded and hurried back to her house.

  I trudged up the trail. Kieran had needed to stay hidden when we were in Braide Wood together, and he had talked about staying at some caves. Maybe this was the same place. My breath labored in my lungs by the time I reached the top of the steep climb. I pushed forward through the underbrush to step into the clearing.

  Something hard crashed into the back of my head and knocked me forward. I tucked a shoulder and rolled to come up fast, drawing my sword. Dad’s training was paying off, b
ut my head throbbed, and I didn’t like the looks of the man facing me. He was built like an action hero, with a mane of dark hair and a confident sneer. His own sword was out, and he didn’t stop to ask me who I was. He just swung at me.

  I skittered back, then planted myself and blocked and parried.

  His eyebrows lifted, but then he brushed my sword aside like it was a toy and attacked again.

  This time my countermove wasn’t as clean, and his blade scraped my shoulder. Pain stung, but from a distance. Adrenaline is a great anesthetic. The wound tingled as it began to heal, and I ignored that as well. I danced around the man, trying to hold him off long enough to introduce myself.

  He was too fast. A few more clashes and he moved past my guard and grabbed my arm. He crashed his hilt against my forearm. My sword fell to the ground, clattering. His foot swept behind me, and I hit the ground with a thud.

  I looked up the length of his sword, pointed directly over my heart.

  A ring of faces moved in to join his, and none of them looked very happy to see me.

  Chapter

  11

  Jake

  “Who is he?” one of the men asked.

  “I don’t know,” said the black-haired warrior who pinned me. “He has a bit of skill with a sword, for such a young pup.”

  “Stand aside.”

  A couple of the bodies moved apart, and another rough, bearded face joined the circle, although his beard was a mere scraggle compared to beards of the other men. He frowned down at me, a bear of a man, only a few years older than me.

  I ignored the sword aimed at me and braced myself on my elbows to glare up at him.

  His eyes held a glint of humor. “Who are you?”

  “My name’s Jake.”

  That wasn’t the answer he wanted. “Your clan, boy. What clan are you?”

  It took me a second to figure out an answer. I decided to claim my father’s clan. “Rendor.”

  That worked. Instantly murmurs of sympathy rose from several of the men, and the sword pulled back. I was helped to my feet, but before I could say another word, an arm grabbed me from behind, and the cold blade of a boot knife pressed against my throat.

  “He’s lying, Wade. I’ve never seen him before.”

  The man holding me must have been from Rendor. The man called Wade stepped closer. Whatever humor I’d seen in his face was gone.

  I swallowed and my Adam’s apple pressed against the blade. “I didn’t live in Rendor.” My voice squeaked, and I wished I could clear my throat without risking a major artery.

  “I’ll kill him and get rid of the body. If the king’s guard sends another, they’ll never find him.”

  Bloodthirsty much? Man, the guy behind me was way too eager. If Wade didn’t turn out to be a little more rational than my captor, I was toast.

  “Who sent you?” Wade’s tone was weary.

  “I came to find you—”

  The man holding me growled and twisted my arm behind me. “What did I tell you? They’re hunting us already.” Anger and suspicion spun around the clearing, rumbling like approaching thunder.

  I couldn’t breathe. They’d slit my throat in the next second. “Wait. Please. I came to ask for your help. And I am from Rendor clan.”

  Wade stepped closer. The man holding me didn’t loosen his grip or move the dagger from my throat. “You’re mixing up your lies now, friend. Care to try the truth?”

  I groaned in frustration. “My father is from Rendor.”

  Wade seemed to reach a decision. “Let him go, Ian.” The man holding me withdrew his knife from my throat and released my arm, though it still stung. “Who’s your father?”

  I tried to remember what my dad had taught me. I faced Wade squarely and offered him my sword arm. “I’m the son of Markkel, councilmember of Rendor. My mom is Susan of . . . I’m not sure which clan, really.”

  The effect was dramatic. Wade’s mouth dropped open, but then he grabbed my forearm in a fierce grip. “Well met, Jake. I’m Wade of Braide Wood.” He turned to the men around the clearing. “Put away your swords. I’m pledged to protect his house.” He drew me aside and sat me on a fallen log while the other men backed off. Some grumbled. Others stared with blatant curiosity, but they gave Wade space. “Are your parents here?”

  Finally, an ally. I sighed and focused on Wade. “Cameron dragged my mom here. Dad and I tried to come through to rescue her, but Dad didn’t make it. I didn’t know what to do. I was going to ask Tristan for help.”

  Wade looked bleak for a moment. “Never thought the finest of the guardians would be run out of the clans like a criminal.”

  “So how can I find Tristan? Can you send him word?”

  “We’ll see.” Wade shook himself out of his dour mood and grinned. “So you’ve had some training with a sword?”

  I shrugged. “I trained with the guardians in Lyric when I was here before. After we got home, my dad started teaching me.”

  Wade nodded. “Glad to hear it. I trained your mom, you know.” My stunned expression made him laugh—a loud belly laugh that pushed away dire problems and made me believe that everything would be okay.

  I wanted to hear more, but I glanced around the clearing and my answering smile faded. Most of the men ignored me, but several glowered in my direction.

  Wade followed my gaze. “Some of them think that if the Restorer hadn’t left, none of this would have happened. They won’t all respect you for being Susan’s son.”

  “But she wasn’t a Restorer anymore. Don’t they know that?”

  He shifted his weight. “There’s what you know, and then there’s what you feel. But you don’t need to fear them. I’m your house protector. They won’t touch you.”

  “Are you making plans to attack Cameron?”

  Wade frowned. “Lower your voice.” Then his easy grin returned. “We can talk plans tomorrow. Time for some supper and rest. You look like you’ve had a long day.”

  I’d worked a full day at Harvey’s before arriving home to find Cameron in our living room. Then another day of traveling in this world. I stifled a yawn, and Wade chuckled.

  I emptied the food from my pack and shared it all around, which went a long way in winning grudging acceptance. The men gave me some watery stew from a large bowl warming on a heat trivet. Ian watched me through narrowed eyes. He was about Dad’s age, battle-hardened, with hair as light as my own but with an expression dark with cynicism. I shivered. Something about the way his eyes followed me made me resolve to sleep with my sword close.

  Most of the men drifted into conversations and simply shut me out. Arland, the dark-haired man who’d attacked me when I entered the clearing, gave me a nod of thanks as I offered him half of a peanut butter sandwich from my pack. He pried it open, curious, but then wolfed it down. Obviously, these men had the same shortages of food as the village. Definitely bad news. I’d rather cross swords with Cameron than go hungry.

  As the grey light faded, men broke away from the group and disappeared into various caves surrounding the clearing. I fought back a yawn.

  “There’s room in our cave,” Wade said.

  I groaned. “I thought I’d seen every cave between here and Lyric when I traveled with Kieran.”

  Wade’s warm manner suddenly chilled. “Kieran?”

  “Yeah, he found me when I was lost here the last time. He brought me to Braide Wood, but some assassins were chasing us.” I shuddered remembering those days of running and hiding. I looked at Wade’s face. “What’s wrong?”

  He gave a snort of harsh laughter. “We’ve had our differences.” Wade refused to explain more, but I felt I’d lost some ground with my only ally.

  This was more complicated than the web of relationships in high school. I looked around the clearing once more before following Wade into a cave. Swords and dagge
rs glinted in the reflected glow from the heat trivets.

  More complex and a lot more dangerous.

  The ground was hard and several of the men snored, but I had no problem sleeping. My mind was as exhausted as my body. Too many things to absorb. Too many surprises. I didn’t even bother pulling off my boots. I removed my sword belt and then held the sword in my arms.

  I’d never had trouble sleeping in strange places, but I wondered about Jon and Anne and how they were doing at camp. Anne hadn’t been away overnight before, except to our grandparents’. Was she hugging the stuffed octopus I’d given her if she got homesick in her bunk at night? Was Jon tipping over canoes and generally wreaking havoc? Probably.

  I breathed a quick prayer for them before I fell asleep.

  It was barely first light when Wade shook my shoulder. I jolted up, confused by the hairy grinning face towering over me, and the musty smell of the cave. He gestured for me to follow him. The rest of the camp wasn’t stirring yet, except for a few men on guard in the clearing.

  We didn’t stop for breakfast. Wade led me down the trail toward the village. “If Cameron has your mom, I can guess where he’s keeping her. I’ll need a scrambler to get into Lyric. Skyler’s gone—called up with the rest of the transtechs. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind us borrowing a few things.”

  Wade was enjoying himself. I couldn’t shake off my nerves. We slipped from home to home, ducking and hiding, until Wade opened the door of one small cabin off by itself and we hurried inside. The room was a dream. Pieces of inventions that I couldn’t even guess the purpose of—every gadget and gizmo I’d seen in this world—covered all the surfaces of chairs, tables, and the floor. We picked our way among the chaos.

  “Who is this guy?” I asked, staring around the cabin. I picked up a strange cube but dropped it when it started to hum.

  “Kieran and Kendra’s father. He went a bit . . . off . . . when his wife died. Keeps to himself.” Wade rifled through a pile of fragile-looking equipment, then tossed a few pieces over his shoulder. I caught them and set them down gently. “Ah, here we go.” Wade held up a scrambler. Kieran had used one to get us in and out of a hidden door in the Lyric wall. “Find some magchips, will you?”

 

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