“In the basement of the monastery I found a hidden room, accessed only by the highest of the priests. I found it quickly, guided by my dream and the voice speaking to my heart. It told me of a hidden latch and taught me what I must do to enter. The breastplate was there. It glowed when I entered the room, as if it was waiting. It spoke to me.”
Ember drew back at that, and he was quick to explain.
“Not in words. It spoke peace to my heart and sent an invitation which I readily accepted. I removed my tunic and donned the breastplate. Strangely, the armor embedded itself in my skin and sank beneath it. I know it is hard to believe, but it is that which you saw when I sang my praises.”
Ember had chills on top of chills. The breastplate sank beneath his skin? That scene was too familiar for comfort, and she really didn’t like the implication for her own situation. The bracelets sank beneath her skin just the day before, but she found it hard to believe it was Guardian magic. Hadn’t Ezeker said they were made by her father? Or had she just assumed?
DeMunth continued. “Unfortunately, the head priests found me and did not understand my vision. They tortured me in the hopes of getting the breastplate back, and finally resorted to cutting out my tongue so I could never speak the ‘lies’ which kept me from returning what I had stolen. Rather than take my life, which would have been against the laws of the priesthood, they set me free to wander in the forest alone. That act nearly killed me. If it had not been for your uncle carrying me to your grandmother, I surely would have died.” DeMunth placed his hand on Shad’s shoulder and affectionately scratched behind his ears.
Ember finally understood the closeness they shared. She also understood what it was she had seen. She wanted to know more about this keystone, but she had so many questions, she didn’t know where to start. She sat in stunned silence for a long while. Shad and DeMunth began to look at each other nervously, fidgeting where they stood, growing more impatient with each passing moment.
Unable to organize her thoughts well enough to project them, and frustrated with the limitations of her wolf body, she shapeshifted back into her boy form. It was less painful than the night before, and she did it almost instantly.
“So, this breastplate, did it leave any kind of mark on your skin? Can you see it with your eyes open?” she asked. DeMunth stared at her in shock, though Ember wasn’t sure if it was because she looked like a boy or had shifted so quickly. She couldn’t hear his thoughts unless he sent them to her, and all she felt from him was astonishment. Shad chuckled appreciatively in his mind.
Visibly shaking himself, DeMunth answered. “No, not so much as I can tell. Why?”
Ember didn’t answer. “Can I see?”
DeMunth cocked his head, but slowly pulled his tunic up. Ember’s heart fluttered at the muscles rippling across his chest, but her stomach knotted with imagined pain at the scars across his arms and neck. She took a step closer and bent her head to his chest to see better.
There was a faint shimmer to DeMunth’s skin, but not much more than would be had by a shirtless walk through a pollen-filled meadow. She looked closer. The shine stopped in a distinct line at his shoulder and neck. There were also no scars on his torso. One particularly bad burn scar severed exactly on that line. On one side it was waxy, shriveled skin, and the other perfectly normal, if softly glowing. The hair on the back of Ember’s neck stood up as she traced the lines. DeMunth shivered and pulled away.
“There is a line. Right here,” she traced it again, “and here.”
DeMunth squished his chin downward. Shad stepped forward to look.
“Well, look at that. She’s right.”
“Where?” DeMunth asked, straining to see.
“Just trust us. It’s there. How did you know?” Shad asked, turning to Ember. She pulled up her sleeves and showed them her tattooed wrists and hands, then opened her collar and showed them the pendant tattooed into her sternum.
“Yesterday these were silver, a gift from my father.” Shad’s nostrils flared as he sniffed at her arm and examined the bracelet as closely as she’d examined DeMunth’s chest. DeMunth glanced at the scrolling lines and smiled, then grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his arms.
Ember’s breath caught in her throat. The pull she felt from DeMunth was not just physical. There was some kind of connection between them that she didn’t understand, but could not deny. The smell of him was intoxicating. A mixture of sunshine, horse, and some kind of herb. He smelled good, and not just as in “pleasant.” He smelled of goodness, strange as it sounded even to herself. She took a deep whiff while his arms were wrapped around her. She was in his arms, her heart racing—but it couldn’t be. It wasn’t right.
She pulled back quickly. She was a girl on the inside, yes, and there was not a thing wrong with liking this handsome, strong man, but outside, for all intents and purposes, she looked like a boy. It was tempting to tell Shad she had changed her mind and was going to be female no matter what, just so she could continue to feel safe and protected. But it was silly and she knew it. Her safety was at stake here, and not only her own, but that of Shad and DeMunth as well. She had to bury her feelings or things would not only look bad, but if Ian found her, they would be bad.
Ember sat down heavily on the log behind her, Shad sitting on his haunches at her feet and DeMunth beside her. “I’m not sure what all this means,” she said, “but Ian saw the tattoos when he had me in the cave. He’s going to recognize me, whether I’m a boy or a girl, if he sees these.” She raised her arms from her lap again. “It would be nice if my new magic would let me cover them, but what am I supposed to do? Grow another layer of skin?” Ember had tried doing just that the night before, but it had been like trying to move a house with her bare hands.
Shad shook his head and didn’t answer. DeMunth took his time before he mind-spoke to her, his eyes staring into hers with great intensity. “Did you have a vision when you received the bracelets?”
Ember shook her head.
DeMunth sighed. “Then I am unsure whether it is a gift from the Guardians, or magic created to imitate it. Either way, it is powerful, and nothing to be toyed with. It also needs to remain hidden. My story alone should convince you of the danger these things can bring when the wrong people know of them.” He scraped a hand through his hair, then spoke to Shad. “Do you think perhaps you could use your gifts to create a similar bracelet to cover up the one on her skin?” DeMunth asked, tracing the pattern of the bracelet on her hand for a brief moment, giving Ember goosebumps.
Shad nodded. “Yes, I think I can. The only problem is finding materials. I obviously don’t have anything on hand to make such a thing.”
DeMunth jogged to his saddle bag and pulled out a sack that chinked as he threw it to the wolf.
Shad shifted to human form almost instantly and plucked it out of the air. He opened the neck of the bag and spilled a few coins into his hand, a mixture of silver and copper. Shad looked up at DeMunth, and the mute shrugged. Something passed between them that Ember didn’t understand, but Shad sighed and got to work.
He separated the coins by type and placed them in small piles on the log, one to each side of him. He took one of the copper coins in his hand, closed his eyes, then pushed at it with his thumbs. The copper stretched like clay. Ember gasped, then watched transfixed as he proceeded to stretch it into long threads that he snipped and curled into small chains, using only his fingernails. He melted the chains into the edge of one of the larger copper coins, then put his hand out.
“May I?” he asked, nodding toward her hand. Ember rested it in his lap. Shad measured the length of the chain and width of the coin against the dark silver lines on her hand, then nodded approvingly and resumed working.
DeMunth tapped Ember on the shoulder. She turned, reluctant to tear her eyes away from Shad’s creation, only to have a bundle thrust at her. “Shad told me about your decision not to change . . .certain things about yourself.” DeMunth reddened. “I thought this might help
with your disguise.” It was hard to remember that DeMunth didn’t speak with his mouth. Even staring him in the face, she almost heard him with her ears.
She took the bundle as he turned away, his ears still red. Ember tried to hide her smile. She’d feel the same in a similar situation. It was one more thing she liked about the man.
She found a semi-private spot behind some bushes back in the woods. She unraveled DeMunth’s bundle to find not only clean breeches and a baggy cream shirt, but a leather vest, some boots, and a roll of bandages.
Relieved, she pulled her shirt over her head and wrapped the bandage around her chest, pulling it tight, for once thankful for her modest size. Uncle Shad was obviously not completely human to think she was well endowed. That had never been her problem. It made hiding her gender much easier.
Once dressed, she sat down to pull on the boots. They were huge, almost twice her normal size. She almost put her others on, then thought twice about it. If she wore her own boots, her feet would be completely out of proportion to the rest of her body. How many men had feet as small as hers? She’d never met a one.
She sighed in resignation. If she was going to pretend to be a boy, she might as well do it all. Well, almost all. She glanced down. It would be pointless to have gone through the pain and challenge of changing her appearance only to have her identity given away by something as silly as the size of her feet.
Grasping her foot, Ember closed her eyes and sent a surge of energy from heel to toe. Her foot grew slowly, growing pains accompanying a deep ache that throbbed through her feet and brought tears to her eyes. When she thought she might be done, she held the boot up to the bottom of her foot, but it was still too big. Whose boots were these, anyway? She shook her head and sent more energy into her foot, expanding the size another couple of inches before she stopped and looked. They were bigger, yes, but they still looked feminine. What was it that made boys’ feet look different? Ember tried to remember Aldarin’s feet. Veins bulged across the top, and his toes were extremely hairy. Maybe that’s all it was.
She experimented with it, actually coming to enjoy the finite details that truly made her feet look masculine.
Pulling the boots back on, she was relieved when they fit just right. She gathered her old clothes into a ball and walked back to the big willow tree to find that DeMunth and Shad were the only ones left. She scanned the woods before asking, “Where’s the pack?”
“They returned home. There is no need for them to travel to Javak, and most of them are not comfortable in large cities.”
Shad handed DeMunth the nearly empty coin sack. The mute promptly tucked it into the side of his saddle bag, then strapped it across his stallion’s rump. Shad continued. “We’re only an hour away from Javak. DeMunth says your family’s group was planning to travel through the night. If we leave now, we should just beat them there. Running with the pack has certain advantages, one of which is speed.” He reached inside one of the old coin sacks and pulled out one of the bracelets he’d spent the last half hour making.
“Here.” Ember extended her arms and let Shad slide the ring on her finger, then the bracelet around her wrist. The lines matched up perfectly. “How did you do that?”
He shrugged. “It’s part of the stonesculpting gift. Perfect visual recall.” Shad glanced around the clearing. Evidently finding everything to his satisfaction, he strolled to the curtain of branches, parted it, and turned to Ember. “Come. There’s no need to shift shape and scare the locals.” His eyes twinkled.
“If we’re so close to Javak, why didn’t we just go there last night?” she asked.
“Multiple reasons, but primarily because they collapse the pipes at dusk.” Ember gave him a questioning look and he laughed. “You’ll see when we get there. Come on.” Shad took her bundled clothes and handed them to DeMunth. “It would have been pointless to camp on the rim of the city when there’s a perfectly good spot here under the willow. Besides, it was raining—did you forget already?”
Ember grimaced. “How can I forget when it hasn’t stopped?” Shad laughed, and continued to laugh as he stepped to DeMunth’s side and led the two of them to the road.
It was actually less than an hour before they arrived in Javak, the city of magic. Ember could hardly believe she had arrived. It was a deep valley with sides that looked as though they had been cut, smooth and perfectly straight—sheer rock that led to a valley of water and life. The city lay before her as though a giant had planted his walking stick here. She had never seen any place so green and lovely. It was breathtaking as a whole, but her eyes were drawn time and again to the water as they walked the cliff’s edge and headed toward a line of people. Shad escorted Ember to the back of the line and stood with her in silence while she took in the view.
Five waterfalls cascaded into the bowl, and it was a wonder the valley hadn’t flooded with the sheer volume of water that pounded from the mountains. Somehow it had been diverted into a large river that circled the city and exited the southern end of the valley, while the largest and most beautiful of Javak’s buildings thrust up from the water itself. Ember watched the people from a distance, appearing antlike as they moved on the floating bridges and paddled through the water to reach their destinations.
Ember felt a nudge in her side, and she looked ahead to find the line had crept forward. She glanced at her grinning uncle and took a step to catch up. She wasn’t sure if the constant grins were part of his nature or if he was extremely happy to be with her, though she suspected the former.
It was strange, traveling with men she didn’t know. Ember had been with Shad and DeMunth for less than two days, and yet she connected to them on a subconscious level that rivaled the strength of emotion she held for her stepbrothers. She could understand it where Shad was concerned. He was blood, after all, even if she had just met him, but her feelings for DeMunth confused and overwhelmed her. She didn’t know where those feelings would take them, or if he even felt the same way, but she certainly hoped she’d have the chance to find out under better circumstances.
She turned her thoughts from the mute and instead let her mind wander back through the last forty-eight hours and the changes they had brought. A tale of dreams, it seemed. Her father, a wolfwalker and a mage. And now all these years later, finding family she didn’t know she had in Uncle Shad and a grandmother she longed to meet.
It seemed forever before the line crept forward again, and then Ember was at the front, staring at a large man who looked quite at ease behind a small, square table. It was obvious he was used to taking charge. He glanced up at her with a pinched, bored smile.
“Name, please,” he asked.
“Ember Shandae,” she said before thinking about it, then mentally kicked herself just as a voice she knew very well called from behind her. It took all the willpower she had not to jump with guilt as she heard it.
“Step aside, councilman coming through,” Aldarin yelled.
Ember moved as far from the table as she reasonably could, her heart racing like DeMunth’s
horse. The people around her grumbled, glaring at Aldarin and Ezeker for cutting to the front. If they recognized her, not only would her plans be ruined, but all their lives could be in danger. She couldn’t take that chance. She ducked her head and hid herself behind Shad, though she peeked upward to watch as the old mage and her stepbrother approached.
They stopped right in front of her. Ember held her breath, trying to swallow her stomach as it had somehow managed to lodge itself in her throat. She put her hands in her pockets to hide the shaking. Shad put his hand on her shoulder, and for the first time, mindspoke to her in human form. “Calm yourself, child. You’ll do none of them any good if your nerves give us away.”
“I know,” she said, blinking back tears of frustration. “I keep telling myself that, but my body isn’t listening.” She expected him to laugh, but he didn’t.
“Deep breaths. Just keep taking deep breaths.” He withdrew from her mind, but kept
his hand on her shoulder and breathed with her.Her heart rate began to slow. She closed her eyes to better concentrate.
She had just reached the point where she felt she could handle the situation when a hand touched her elbow and her heart raced back to its previous pace, her eyes snapping open. Aldarin’s head tipped to the side, his eyes troubled. She’d blown it—he’d seen through her disguise, and her family was going to pay for it. She pleaded with her eyes, and had just opened her mouth to say something when he spoke.
“Are you all right? You look a little pale.” Shad tensed and sent a questioning thought her way.
Ember shook her head in his direction. Oblivious to the exchange, Aldarin continued. “I’m sorry we had to cut to the front like this, but my father is dying. We have to get him to the council right now.” His eyes teared up. He blinked hard, then leaned over Ezeker’s shoulder and whispered something to him. Ezeker nodded. It bothered Ember to see his long, white beard caked with ash, turning it a dirty gray. What happened to his weather charm? Surely he didn’t give it away. She shook her head. Obviously he had, and probably to Paeder, no matter that her stepfather was protected in the wagon. It was just the kind of thing Ezeker would do.
Ember sighed, almost collapsing with relief that they hadn’t recognized her.
“Sir, your papers?” the waiting guard said to Aldarin. He turned and accepted the packet with a nod, then stopped as he caught sight of Ember’s face. He cocked his head and really looked at her. “Do I know you?” he asked.
She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak.
“Strange. You seem so familiar. Any family up Karsholm way?”
Ember wanted to laugh at the question, but she didn’t dare. She shrugged her shoulders and nudged the ash with the toe of her boot.
The Sapphire Flute Page 20