Aldarin laughed, a great belly laugh that had them both shaking on the horse, and Monster looking over his shoulder, snorting at them with disgust. “Oh, let’s see. There was the time I tipped you into the pigsty when you were three, and the time I put burrs in Tiva’s saddle blanket when he was learning to ride and, oh! The time she caught me kissing Melina Tidy, and—”
“What? You kissed Melina? Ewww!” Melina may have been beautiful, but she was the snottiest, most self-loving girl in Karsholm. She hated Ember with every bone in her body, and the feeling was mutual.
Aldarin chuckled. “Hey, I was twelve. What do you expect?” They rode in silence for a moment before he continued. “Most recently, there was my entering the guard. I still haven’t heard the last of that.”
“I never knew.“ Ember wrapped her arms around his waist once more. “I knew she nagged at me all the time, but I’ve never heard her say a thing to any of you boys. I just figured it was me she didn’t like.”
“Oh, she likes you. She loves you. She loves us all, which is why she nags us so much. She just wants us to be better, that’s all. Think about it, Ember. When has she ever reprimanded you in front of anyone else? Besides Paeder, I mean?”
Ember thought. She really thought, long and hard, and could not come up with a single instance in her life when the boys had been around during her arguments with Mum. Either they had been out and about, or Marda had politely said, “Ember, let’s go for a walk.” It was only then that they’d had their little talks.
“Huh,“ Ember said, stumped and surprised. “Never, Aldarin. I don’t remember a single time you guys were around.”
“And there you have it. We’ve all been cornered by her ‘little walks and long talks,’ Sis, but she never tried to embarrass us, only guide us.” Aldarin covered her hand with his own. “She’s the only mother the twins and I remember, so don’t go saying she’s not my mum, okay?” Aldarin still sat stiffly, though he squeezed her hand as he said it.
Ember felt fully chastised and a little embarrassed. She’d never really thought of it that way. Paeder was the boys’ father, and Marda was Ember’s mother—that’s just the way it was. It had never occurred to her that the boys might miss their mother every bit as much as she missed her own father, little as she knew about him.
Maybe the boys were better sons than she was a daughter because she never really thought of Paeder as “Da.” He was just Paeder, her mother’s husband.
“Okay, Aldarin. I’m sorry. I hadn’t realized, and I shouldn’t have judged. It’s just hard sometimes. I love my mum, but I never feel like anything is good enough for her, and I’m not the person she wants me to be.”
“I think she’s afraid, Ember. There seems to be an awful lot of fear tied up in her heart regarding you, especially where magic is concerned. I don’t think she holds you down because she doesn’t approve, I think it’s because she doesn’t want you to get hurt like . . .”
Aldarin stopped, and Ember snatched at the conversation.
“Like what?” she prodded.
Aldarin shook his head and locked his jaw. She could see the muscles working, as though he had glued his teeth together to keep from talking. “Like . . . someone she knows,” he finished, rather lamely. “Who?” Ember prodded again.
“Just someone. I’m not supposed to talk about it. Besides, it’s her business, and if she wanted you to know, then you would know, okay?”
“No, not okay. Aldarin, she never tells me anything, not about herself, nor my father, and especially not about who he was, or what he did, or anything about his family. I ask, and she clams up, so who else am I supposed to ask? And if I’m not supposed to know, how come you do?” Ember was a little hurt that her mother might have spoken to Aldarin about things she would not tell her own daughter.
“I overheard her talking to Ezeker a couple of weeks ago when she didn’t know I was around. It’s not like I was trying to eavesdrop, but sometimes when Ezeker doesn’t want his guards to be obvious, he has us sit in the curtained alcove. That’s how I knew he had spoken to her about the mage trials. Now, please don’t ask me any more questions, or I’ll be breaking her confidence, and Ezeker’s trust in me. You don’t want me to do that, do you?” He grinned at her over his shoulder, but his voice was serious and pleading. Ember knew it had always been hard for him to say no to her, and today was no exception.
She knew she shouldn’t push, but there was something inside her that said, “Ask him. Ask now.” How could she refuse her heart even though her head screamed at her to leave things alone? “Aldarin, please. I don’t know why, but—” she halted, not sure how to go on. “I need to know. It’s the only way.”
“Blast it, Ember! You don’t know what you’re asking! I can’t!”
“I know you can’t, Aldarin. I know it goes against everything that seems right and fair, but answer me truthfully. Isn’t there a part of you that whispers I need to know? Mother will cradle me in cotton and try to protect me my entire life unless I know the truth. All her prejudice and rules are wrong. I don’t know why, and she will not tell me! Please, brother.”
Aldarin slumped forward in defeat and pulled Monster to a halt in the middle of the road. “Off,” he barked.
“But—” she objected.
“I said off, Ember. I can’t talk to you about this without seeing your face, and I won’t do it on the back of a horse. Get off,“ he repeated, his voice angry, but determined.
Ember threw her leg over Monster’s back and slid down, Aldarin shortly behind her, his long strides quick as he led Monster under the oak trees that lined the road. Monster nosed aside the small amount of ash that had sifted through the trees and set to eating what greenery he could find. Aldarin leaned against a tree, his eyes blazing at his sister.
“I’m not happy about this, I hope you know. It’s not fair of you to use me this way. Not only is it unethical, but it could get me into a heap of trouble with both Marda and Ezeker. I could get demoted just because I can’t say no to my sister—” He took a deep breath and rubbed his hand through his hair. “—because she’s right.” Resigned, he hung his head and gathered himself to speak.
Ember waited, too tense to do anything but stand still and straight.
“Ezeker has wanted Marda to tell you the truth from the very beginning, and has done everything he knows to persuade her, but she’s too scared about what might happen to you if she does. I don’t understand the entire situation, Ember. I only overheard one conversation, and not a lot of it makes sense to me, but I will tell you what I know.” He looked down at his boots, then met her eyes.
“Your mother has not exactly lied to you, but . . . she has held back a lot of the truth. Here’s the truth as you know it.” He counted the facts on his fingers. “Your father was a stone sculptor. He died in a fire when you were a baby. You came to Karsholm because Ezeker was your only family. Those are the three big ones. All true. All lies.” He stopped then and scrubbed his hand through his hair once more, seeming to work up his courage.
“Ezeker is adopted family. He trained your father in his chosen profession, but they do not share blood. Your father did die in a fire, but it was a fire caused by an evil woman named C’Tan, and I got the impression somehow that there was a connection between them, though I’m not sure what it was. And . . .” Aldarin took a deep breath now.
“Your father was killed because . . . because he was a mage—and because he was protecting you. You are the one C’Tan was after, Ember, and I don’t know the reason, but it’s why your mother does everything she can to keep you from magic. She’s afraid that with magic in your veins, you’ll somehow draw C’Tan to you and be destroyed just like your father. She loves you more than anything, and it’s tearing her up to have to lie to you like this, but it’s the only way she thinks she can keep you safe. Ezeker feels differently and has told her time and again, but she won’t listen.”
Ember felt the blood drain from her face. Aldarin stopped and straightened,
watching her with obvious alarm. She flushed with heat as fear washed over her so thick she thought she was going to vomit, and then anger so intense she could barely control the tremors that shook her from head to toe. It was the fear that won out in the end when she realized what had happened to her that very afternoon.
Ezeker said the magic was awakening within her. The magic really did run through her veins. No wonder Ezeker was encouraging her to get to the mage trials. Without his saying a thing, she understood what his thoughts were on the situation—because they were a direct reflection of her own.
“Ezeker thinks training will prepare me for the confrontation with C’Tan, doesn’t he? It’s going to happen sooner or later—my dreams tell me that—and if I’m trained, my chances of survival will increase. Right now I’m powerless.” She looked to Aldarin for confirmation.
His stunned eyes and slight nod were enough for her to know she was right.
The anger flashed bright again. “What’s Mum trying to do, get me killed?”
Aldarin was at her side in an instant, gathering her in his arms. She wanted to fight it, but this was Aldarin. She could resist him no more than he could resist her. They were as close as blood—closer, maybe.
“No, no, Ember, just the opposite,” he said, his voice smooth and earnest. “She feels that keeping you away from magic entirely will keep C’Tan from finding you . . . ever. Obviously she’s not thinking straight. The power that wells up from inside of you is not something you can muffle and hide. It’s a part of who you are, and can no more be changed than . . .” he glanced around, “than I could turn that oak tree into a mare for my stallion.”
The laughter burst out of Ember before she could stop herself. Now was not the time to be laughing. She stopped quickly.
“Come on,” Aldarin said, taking her hand. “Let’s get home and see to a birthing day celebration.”
“I don’t feel much like celebrating right now, but I guess it would look kind of funny if I didn’t show up to my own birthing day dinner, wouldn’t it?”
“Are you kidding? You miss a party? Yeah, it would be noticed.” Aldarin swung himself into the saddle. She scrambled up behind him, and in an instant, they were back on the road. Ember’s thoughts scrambled about her head, one phrase echoing more loudly above the others.
“What’s she trying to do, get me killed?”
It was a question that had no answer.
Home looked different after the things Ember had learned that day. Changed, somehow, though she knew, truly, that the change lay within herself.
Riding up to the gate, Ember spotted her seventeen-year-old stepbrothers galloping in the field east of the house. The twins had set at least a dozen magelights aflame over the field. They had also set up a shield similar to Ezeker’s so the ash was shucked away from the house, barn, and field.
Tiva stood on the bare back of one of Ember’s favorite mares, Diamond Girl, a spotted horse named for the half-diamond in the middle of her forehead. He braced himself with one foot on her shoulder and the other on her rump, his arms outstretched as Diamond Girl ran in large circles around the pasture.
“Giddy-up,” his voice reached Ember across the field. “Faster, girl, faster!”
“You’re gonna break your neck if you don’t watch it, Tiva,” Ren called, laughing. Ember saw him then, sitting astride another of the family favorites, Brownie, who was as sweet and obedient a mount as Ember had ever known. Typical of the boys—Tiva doing the outrageous thing and Ren sitting by, laughing.
For twins, they were about as similar as the sun and the moon. Tiva had blond hair, and lately he had taken to greasing it so it stood in spikes on his head. Ember couldn’t understand why he’d bother, as the grease stunk like old cheese, but he thought it made him look handsome. Ren, on the other hand, had dark hair that lay softly over his forehead, enhancing the earth-brown eyes that seemed to see into her soul, unlike Tiva’s crystal-blue eyes that were constantly laughing.
Aldarin and Ember trotted up to the gate and sat watching the twins for about ten seconds before Tiva noticed them.
“Em!” he yelled, waving wildly, still balanced on the back of the mare. He let Diamond Girl circle once more. When the horse got to the point closest to the gate, Tiva did a back flip off the mare, landing softly on his feet with outstretched arms and a cocky grin. He ran to the gate and opened it in time for Aldarin to dismount and lead Monster in, then shut the gate behind them while Ember slid off.
Ember turned around in time to be crushed in Tiva’s rather smelly embrace. He pounded her on the back, nearly winding her with his enthusiastic backslapping. Ren rescued her, thankfully, before she suffocated.
“Let her go, twin. Can’t you see you’re killing her with your love?” Ren’s eyes twinkled as he kicked his leg over Brownie’s neck and jumped down. Tiva let go of Ember only long enough for Ren to wrap his arms around her and do nearly as sound a job of crushing her as Tiva had. He squeezed until her back cracked and she laughed, begging him to let go. Ren just chuckled, gave one last eye-popping squeeze, and set her on her feet. She promptly smacked them both on the arm.
“When did you get back? I thought you were in school until harvest festival,” she asked while they stood rubbing their biceps and grinning.
“Yeah, we thought so too, but they let us out for the mage trials, seeing as how we have to help all the instructors and senior magi there,” Tiva said, rolling his eyes. “I thought being a mage would be pretty cool and glamorous, but mostly it’s just grunt work. We have learned a thing or two, but nothing really neat yet.”
Ren started laughing. Tiva scowled at him.
“Except we learned to levitate, and Marda caught Tiva literally scaring the crap out of the cow with his practicing,” Ren told her, dancing away from Tiva’s reach as his twin took a swing at him. “It was pretty hilarious, seeing old Moomoo trying to run in the air and bucking about, but definitely not nice. Marda must have agreed because she chased Tiva out of the barn with a switch. She didn’t catch him, though.”
Tiva reddened. “Well, they did tell us to practice, didn’t they?” he said, sulking and casting daggers with his eyes. Ember didn’t like that look. It always led to trouble, and since Ren looked to beb bursting with laughter, she decided to change the subject.
“I don’t think they meant for you to practice with the cows, Tiva,bbut trust you to find levitating the livestock appropriate. So, what did you bring me for my birthing day?”
“Birthing day? It’s your birthing day, Em? Gee, I’m sorry, I completely forgot,” Tiva answered with his usual lack of seriousness.
“What about you, Ren? Did you remember to get her something?”
“Of course I did. Don’t tease her like that, Tiva. It’s her special day, and sixteen is a pretty important one, don’t you think?” Ren answered, putting a protective arm around Ember’s shoulder. He didn’t wait for Tiva to answer. “Of course, it’s not like I have much money, being a poor apprentice mage and all, so I got you the best present I could afford. It was free. I found it in the rubbish heap and polished it up a bit. That should do just fine, eh?”
Ember answered by slugging him in the shoulder again, hard. But she grinned as she did it and raced him back to the house, the magelights following overhead.
“Don’t forget to wash up, boys!” Marda’s voice called from just inside the door. She poked her face around the corner and smiled as she saw Ember. “Happy birthing day, dear. I’m glad you made it back. I was afraid you’d miss your special dinner.” Marda leaned out the door and tossed a rag toward her daughter. Ember snatched it out of the air. “Clean up and come sit down. Supper’s about on the table.”
Marda withdrew her head, and Ember heard the clank of a few pot lids being set aside and the flow of water into the sink.
“I wonder what she’d do if we didn’t wash up. Do you think she’d throw us out?” Tiva asked as he stuck his hands into the cold running water Ren had turned on for him.
; “Nah,” answered Ren. “If she’ll put up with that stink in your hair for as long as she has, I imagine about the worst she’d do is make you go without your supper for a night or two. Might be good for you,” he said, giving his twin a solid thump on the stomach that showed no sign of a bulge. Tiva nudged Ren with his hip, throwing him off balance. They both collided with Ember, nearly knocking her backward into the horse’s water trough. Ember glared at them, but it was all in play.
Ember let the boys go into the house ahead of her before she washed. Once her hands were toweled dry, she pulled down her sleeves to cover all but her fingertips. She was grateful the twins hadn’t seen the tattoos that stained her hands and wrists, and especially hoped her mother wouldn’t notice. If she had gloves, she would happily put them on, but her mother would be sure to notice so blatant an attempt to hide something. There was nothing else she could do without drawing attention, so she followed her brothers, and within a few short moments they were all seated around the large table. Even Paeder had come from his sickbed to join them. He looked weak and feeble, but his eyes shone when he saw Ember and beckoned to her.
He wrapped one arm around her waist and another around her shoulder and pulled her to him. “Happy birthing day, stepdaughter,” his hoarse voice whispered in her ear. He gave her a dry peck on the cheek. Ember patted his back and pulled away, thinking he was done, but Paeder took her wrist and slipped an envelope into her hand. She was afraid for a moment he’d seen the tattoo in her palm, but he didn’t give it a second look. Surprised, she paused, questioning him with her eyes.
He waved a frail hand at her. “Later,” he said, winking. “When you’re alone.”
She nodded and smiled at him, putting a hand on his shoulder before she sat down.
Dinner smelled delicious. Marda had made Ember’s favorite meal—a spicy egg and green bean soup with onions to be eaten with flatbread and a dollop of sour cream, with apple pudding for dessert.
The Sapphire Flute Page 8