by Sharon Hinck
I moved around the room, bewildered.
“Um, Wade? What are magchips?”
He stopped rummaging and turned to look at me. His eyes squinted over his round cheeks when he smiled. “You’re a lot like her, you know? Although I see your father in you too. He’s a good man. It would kill him to know what’s happened to his clan.”
“Tara said Cameron ‘gave’ Rendor to the Kahlareans. What does that mean?”
Wade stilled, then swooped up some more gear. He bundled it into a bag. “Let’s go.”
“Wade?”
He wouldn’t look at me. “Jake, you have enough to think about.”
I decided not to press him. “I want to stop in and talk to Tara again.”
“Better to leave her out of this.”
“But I—”
Wade gave me a level stare. “The men can’t afford to trust anyone. Now’s not the time to be visiting old friends.”
I swallowed and nodded. If Wade had sworn to protect my family, I’d better follow his lead, especially while loyalties were shifting and uncertain. He clapped a huge paw against my back. “Maybe when I get back, we can go talk to her.”
I followed him outside and waited until we were under the canopy of trees before talking again.
“When you get back? But I’m coming with you.”
“Jake, Lyric is the last place for you to go right now. Trust me. If your mother is there, I’ll find her. And I’ll get her out.” He peeked at the jumble of equipment he had grabbed from Skyler’s cabin. “I hope one of the men can teach me how to use a scrambler.”
I brightened. “I know how. Kieran taught me.”
Wade rolled his eyes. “He would. Well, like they say, ‘Even a ground-crawler feeds the earth.’”
I had the feeling Kieran had just been insulted, but I didn’t comment. My own view of Kieran was a bit confused anyway. When I’d been in this world the first time, he’d ambushed me, stuck a knife in me, and scared me more than once. But he’d also healed my busted ankle, led me to Braide Wood, and, from what Mom and Dad told me, helped them get me safely home. I had assumed he was some sort of criminal, but he was also a Restorer and had given himself to Hazor to stop a war.
I wished there were simple-to-categorize good guys and bad guys here. I wished it again as we entered the clearing by the caves and I saw the hostile eyes of the men.
“Arland,” Wade called cheerfully, “I have to leave for a few days.” Wade’s arm circled my shoulders and he nudged me forward. “Work with the boy while I’m gone. We’ll need every strong sword arm we can muster.”
One of the men muttered something and spat, but Arland exchanged a serious look with Wade and nodded. Then he turned to me. “No time like the present!”
I didn’t like the glint in his eyes.
“I need Jake’s help first.” Wade said the words loudly, and some of the movement around the camp stilled. “So Jake, could you show me how this thing works?”
He was as subtle as a train wreck, but I appreciated what he was doing. My value to these outlawed guardians rose another degree. We sat down, and I showed him how to use the scrambler to get past magnetic locks. I shared every transtech trick Kieran had taught me, and several men drifted over to watch. By the time Wade rose to leave, I felt a little less threatened. These were grim and dangerous men, but I finally believed what Wade had told me. I’d be safe here. For now.
I tried once more to convince him to let me accompany him to Lyric, but he was adamant.
“Train with the men. Win their respect. You can trust Arland.” Wade puffed out his ample chest. “I’ll bring her back, Jake.” He brimmed with confidence. I squared my shoulders and nodded, hiding my nervousness at being left with these men who didn’t trust me, resented my mom, and had very sharp swords.
“All right, men. We’ll train on the plateau today.” Arland gave brisk orders, and men scrambled off to stand watch, saddle the few lehkan that were left at Braide Wood, or pair off for some sword work. “You’re with me,” Arland said. I followed him from the clearing. He held back, letting the other men go ahead, and I kept pace with him. He glanced at the bloody tear on my tunic sleeve. “We should wrap that cut. Don’t want it to get infected.”
“Oh. Um, it’s fine. It was just a scratch.”
Arland gave me a sideways look. Let him think I was a bit of a braggart. I didn’t want him to see the healed skin.
But I was supposed to train with him. How would I explain if he saw a cut or bruise disappear? It wasn’t like these guys were huge fans of the Restorer.
I’d just have to keep him from making contact.
I glanced again at his broad shoulders and powerful arms. Yeah, that was gonna happen. I sighed.
Arland made sure everyone was busy before leading me to a level area of grassland and squaring off. Although the other men were training, they still managed to glance our way frequently. I ignored them and paid attention to Arland.
Dad’s sword felt heavy in my hand, but Arland was methodical, taking me through familiar patterns. I began to relax and let my reflexes kick in.
“Good,” he said as I parried a fast strike. “Try it again from the other direction. Watch your footwork. No, keep your blade up. Look.” He demonstrated the opening I had left by repeating his attack in slow motion. Then he showed me how to fix it. We went through the movements again and again until I mastered them at full speed. Sword work was a lot like playing tennis. Total concentration focused onto one thing, and worries were forced to disappear. My mind went clear, and my body strained and sweat. I began to enjoy myself.
Something odd began to happen as we sparred. I knew I should be tired, that my arms should ache from the effort of blocking his powerful blows. Instead, I felt stronger. Mom had described how she began to simply know how to fight as her Restorer gifts developed. I could feel it happening. I’d had some training, but not enough to keep up with a warrior like Arland, who was ten years my senior and outweighed me by half.
Yet the longer we fought, the more my skills rose to match his. He was noticing it too. His teacher demeanor disappeared. Something hardened in his eyes, and his jaw tightened. Using a move I’d never seen before, he knocked my blade aside. His own whistled through the air and stopped a hairsbreadth from my neck. I froze and looked at him in panic.
He stepped in closer, the edge of his blade unmoved.
“Now,” he said, breathing hard. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re really doing here.”
I studied his face, looking for a sign that this was just part of his training. He didn’t blink. He was dead serious. I had a feeling that if I didn’t come up with an answer fast, I’d be seriously dead.
Chapter
12
Jake
Arland’s fierce eyes locked with mine, but I held my ground. “I told Wade everything. He’ll tell you what he wants you to know.”
He didn’t relax his sword arm and steel bit my skin. “Wade’s not here, and I’m asking you.”
More decisions. It hadn’t been this way in the stories I used to love. Dragon threatens village. Knight slays dragon. Huzzah!
“I came to rescue my mom.” My anger toward Cameron churned to the surface. Surprisingly, Arland pulled his sword away. He glanced around to be sure the others weren’t within earshot.
“The Restorer?”
“Yes. I mean, no. She’s not anymore.”
“She’s here?”
“Somewhere.” I sighed and rubbed my neck. “Cameron came to our . . .” I was about to say “world” but didn’t want to get into an explanation about that. “He came to our home. He was with a Rhusican named Medea. He beat up my dad and grabbed my mom and brought her back here. I came to find her.”
“And Wade?”
“He’s going to Lyric to look for her.”
&
nbsp; Arland swore and thrust his sword into the ground. “And if he finds her, will she help us?”
I blinked. “Well, she needs to go home. She doesn’t belong here.” Arland seemed to be growing angrier, so I talked fast. “You know she doesn’t have any gifts anymore, don’t you? Kieran became the Restorer.”
Arland speared me with his eyes. “And Kieran went to help Hazor instead of serving his own people. And now Wade is distracted by this worthless errand.”
“It’s not worthless.” My anger rose another notch. “She fought for Braide Wood. She’s in danger. He wasn’t about to leave her with Cameron, even if the rest of you are too scared to oppose him.”
Arland went very still and white around the mouth. Too late to pull back my words, I pulled myself back instead, stumbling a few steps away. His black eyes assessed me like a crow approaching carrion. He unsheathed his sword from the earth and lifted it in my direction. I brought my own weapon up in defense.
“Whoa . . . wait. I only . . .” Nothing I could say would make things better now.
Arland bared his teeth and kept coming. His blade swung straight for my head.
I blocked, and the vibration jarred all the way up my arms. This sparring session had just gotten a whole lot scarier.
I pushed down my panic and tried to focus. He didn’t give me time to recover but swept his sword in a wide swath that could have cut me in two. I jumped back and countered with a lunge of my own. Our blades clashed again and again. My breathing grew ragged, and I watched his face for any sign that he didn’t intend to kill me. I couldn’t find it.
“Easy for you to call us cowards.” He followed his words with three lightning-fast strokes.
“I didn’t mean—”
He didn’t let me finish but moved under my guard, and his blade scraped across my belly. “We need help, and what are we given? The One says there will be no more Restorers.”
“That’s a lie!” I jumped back, trying to gain some time. I needed to explain that Cameron’s new Records were fake.
No. More pressing goal.
I needed to keep his sword from hacking off my limbs.
Arland’s eyes were wild as he jabbed forward. I blocked with a two-handed grip and tried to twist his blade away. He pulled back to disengage and swung again. “What choices do we have?” The rage poured from his words in harmony with his relentless attacks. “The One insists we follow a king who’s destroying our people.”
“But He didn’t . . .” I couldn’t breathe and couldn’t see through the sweat stinging my eyes.
Arland wasn’t listening. He was mad at a whole lot of things besides me. Unfortunately, I was the one in front of him at the moment. I shut out his words and stopped trying to answer him. My world became the glint of his sword, the flurry of movement between us, and the shock of blows that reverberated up my arms. From somewhere, strength flowed into me. I kept my footing and answered each attack. He pulled back for a heartbeat and then came at me like a berserker. His wild attack left him vulnerable, and I took the opening and spun in, ramming my shoulder into his massive chest and slamming the flat of my blade against his arm. His sword dropped, and I turned and held my blade to his throat.
Ha! He hadn’t seen that coming. I would have loved to gloat, but this wasn’t the time. Shock snapped across his face, and his eyes cleared of the blind rage he’d been indulging at my expense.
When I saw I had his attention, I snarled, “Would you stop trying to slice me to pieces and just listen?”
His eyes narrowed, but he nodded. I pulled my sword back. We were both breathing hard, trembling with fatigue. I glanced around and was surprised to see that no one was paying any attention to the confrontation that had gotten too real. Still, I kept my voice low.
“Number one, Cameron is lying. I’m not sure how he did it, but those new ‘old Records’ are fake. I’m going to find out what he did and prove it.”
I didn’t realize that it was true until I said it. My initial plan hadn’t gone beyond finding Tristan and rescuing Mom. Now I knew that I had to let Tara and these guardians and everyone else know they were being tricked.
“Number two, we can’t trust Cameron to hold back the Kahlareans, and we need to get Rendor back.” Arland’s eyes widened. I glanced at the band of men stretched across the plateau. A few dozen at best. “We need to gather more allies.”
“We?” Why had I said that?
Those words had come from somewhere outside of myself, yet they felt completely right. I may be a mixed-up mess, but the One had a clear direction in mind.
I took a deep breath and swiped at the sweat on my forehead, pushing my hair out of my face. I glared back at Arland. “Number three, saving my mom is not a worthless errand. It’s why I’m here. She may not be able to lead your people into battle anymore, but she’s my mom. I’m going to make sure she gets home.”
The corner of Arland’s mouth twitched, and he took a steadying breath. “So the pup has heart.” He retrieved his sword and wiped it down with the edge of his tunic. “Good. You’ll need that and more if you believe you can go up against the king.”
What had Wade told me to do? Train and win their respect. Arland seemed like a decent guy when he wasn’t furious with me. And if I didn’t make any more stupid comments implying they were all cowards, we might get along.
“So what have you been planning? You’re not hiding in caves and training for the fun of it.”
Arland shook his head. “We’ll talk when Wade gets back. Maybe. Right now we’ll see what you can do—besides talk. How’s your riding?”
I looked over at the lehkans and blew a silent whistle through pursed lips. They were huge animals and looked vaguely like elk, although they had long thick hair like llamas. The cuddly impression ended with their razor-sharp antlers. I watched two of the men nudge their mounts with their knees and launch them into a galloping charge. Hooves tore up clods of dirt and sent them scattering.
Arland chuckled at the awe in my face. “Well, you’ve had enough sword work for this morning. Ian!” He waved. Ian rode near, purposely careening too close before pulling his mount to a halt. He had blond wavy hair like my dad’s—though much longer—and the same strong jawline that I knew I shared. With a jolt, I realized that if Ian was from Rendor, we might be distant cousins. Now wasn’t the time to explore family connections, however. Ian’s distrust and hostility radiated from him in waves.
“Let’s see if the boy can ride,” Arland said.
Ian leapt from the lehkan and gestured to me with a sneer. Arland showed me how to mount but had a wicked glint in his eye.
After an hour of trying to stay on the fidgety creature, I decided Arland had planned a new way to kill me. The crazy animal kept bolting sideways, springing like a deer and throwing me the opposite direction. My legs ached from trying to stay with him, and my ego was more bruised than my backside. Ian and Arland were having a good laugh, and I gritted my teeth as I clambered on for the twentieth time. I finally got a feel for the leg commands and managed to walk my lehkan the length of the plateau. I felt pretty proud of that accomplishment when I turned back at the far edge. Ian and Arland were several soccer-field lengths away. But before I could savor my record time in the saddle, Ian let out a piercing whistle. My animal’s muscles tightened, and I dug in like a tick just in time. The lehkan shot forward and galloped along the plateau, the wind stinging my eyes.
If I were at a theme park, this would be where they take your picture just as the roller coaster hits the scariest drop. Hair flying, mouth open in a scream, eyes wide.
Even though my stomach stayed somewhere behind, I held on and made it to the end of the plateau. When the lehkan skidded to a stop, I slid off onto wobbly legs, grinning like my brother, Jon, with a new video game. Ian gave a grudging nod.
Arland clapped me on the back. “Lunchtime.”
Best
words I’d heard in a long time. I limped beside Arland back to the campsite. The bruises and aches were quickly healing, but I was bone tired. When we reached the caves, Arland held me back until the men had all gone ahead.
“Jake, first rule of combat: Stay in control. Don’t lose your temper.” He nodded toward the cut across my tunic. I’d forgotten about that wound to my stomach. “I’m sorry about that. Shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”
I scuffed my foot and lifted a shoulder. “No problem. I know you didn’t mean it.”
Arland unwrapped a strip of fabric wound around one sleeve of his tunic. Before I realized what he was doing, he pushed my tunic aside to check on the cut he’d given me during our swordplay—the cut that had completely disappeared. He studied the blood on my tunic, the slit in the fabric, and my whole, unmarked skin. His gaze traveled up to my face, and his jaw tightened.
My hand reached for my sword hilt, but Arland’s fingers closed over my wrist. I tried to back away, only to find a tree pressed against my spine after a few steps. Arland’s free hand twisted into the front of my tunic.
“Care to explain that?” His voice was dangerously calm.
“Promise me you won’t tell them yet.” I was pleading, but protecting my pride didn’t seem like an important issue right now.
His voice was as sharp as his blade. “I’ll make you no promises. What does it mean?”
But he already knew. I saw it in his face.
I squeezed my eyes shut. “Yes. I’m the new . . . that is, we think . . . I have the signs.”
He released me as though it burned his hands to touch me, but I didn’t go for my sword. He stared at me with a weird mix of horror and anger—and maybe a little hope.