by Quil Carter
“How would we know?” Teal asked.
The fire in Anagin’s hand, a red flame, got bigger. Small bubbles started erupting from his tea mug. “Because King Erick and his priests would be picking your jewels off of your corpses if you failed.”
43
Malagant noticed Teal’s head start to nod. He had watched him quietly sneak two more of Ben’s pills when he thought Malagant wasn’t looking. Malagant didn’t call him out on it though, if there was anyone who deserved a rest after everything he’d done, it was Teal.
Teal tucked his hands up to his chin and leaned his head onto a throw pillow. He was sitting in what used to be Malagant’s favourite chair, one he had spent many nights in reading, studying, and talking to his father and brother. Never in Malagant’s life would he have thought Cruz’s son would be falling asleep in that chair.
He half-listened as his father and brother had a deep discussion about Korivander’s developing plan for a rebellion. Teal had tried to stay awake, but the drugs were too powerful and the day too long.
Sure enough, moments later Teal let out a soft snore.
Josiah glanced over at him. “He winks out fast, I would be so lucky.”
“He’s been drugging himself recently.” Malagant shook his head, his face troubled. “Can you help me take him to my bedroom? I need to talk to Dad and I don’t want to risk him waking up during.”
“I can tell if he wakes,” Anagin said casually. He was in his chair; it had always been his chair. Like the grey one Teal was sleeping in, but overstuffed, with a wood and iron foot stool to elevate his leg when his hip was bothering him.
Anagin had everything he needed surrounding him. Beside him to his left was a side table that was magically locked so Josiah and Malagant couldn’t get into it, and to his right, a bookshelf. It was full of books and different items from all of the continents and kingdoms, Anagin had travelled to all three continents and most of the kingdoms.
“I… I would rather he not be in the room… if he wakes for a moment…” Malagant pressed.
Anagin held out his hand towards Teal. He narrowed his eyes or a moment then lowered his hand. “There, now he won’t wake until I tell him he can. Happy?”
Malagant looked at him exasperated. “His head is fragile. Must you always play with our minds?”
“It didn’t break you. I put you to sleep for three days once, Josiah too. You woke up hungry and pissed for two minutes straight, but you were just fine.”
Malagant stared at him. He had heard his father mention this incident before, but he never missed an opportunity to give him the why? stare.
“Teal is… I don’t want you rooting around in his mind, alright? He’s… he’s, well–” Malagant tapped his fingers against his wine glass. “He’s not doing too great.”
The tone in the room seemed to change and for a moment the only sounds around Malagant were the cracking fireplace and the light snores coming from Teal.
Finally Anagin nodded. “I see that.”
“Is he going to be okay?” Malagant asked. “He’s lost it since we lost Ben. He has… I think he has a demenos inside of him. He calls himself–”
“Throateater,” Anagin and Josiah said at the same time. Malagant’s brother was sitting with his legs tucked up in a chair beside Teal. He had a needle with thread in one hand and Ben’s cloak in the other. He had already started patching up their travelling clothes.
Malagant’s mouth pursed to one side. “You met him…?”
“He lunged at me, when, well…” Josiah paused and looked at his father. “Why don’t you tell him?”
“I was going to have to amputate your hands,” Anagin said. “You were beyond sunhealing, beyond any mage healing. The other one didn’t handle it well.”
“Wait…” Malagant looked at both of them. “I wasn’t sunhealed? But… then how?”
Anagin pointed to his son’s chest, the ruby pendant resting up against his blue doublet. “With the Jewel of Elron.”
Malagant’s eyes widened, he held his pendant up to the lamp. The fire making the ruby glow a spectrum of red light that beamed on the three. “You can make this damn thing work, eh? Maybe you’re the ruby pendant carrier.”
“I was no pendant carrier, I was the ruby ring bearer. And no, my time as a prophecy walker has passed. Or it damn well better have. I only used it like I would use any focus stone. Kelakheva blocked my sheomancy abilities by making the sun no longer respond to blackmagic. As you know a sunmage’s focus stone is the sun itself. Luckily the Jewel of Elron is the most powerful focus stone created and I was able to use it to summon your Uncle Kaul Avahlis.”
“What!” Malagant yelled, before dropping his voice. He eyed Teal, still sleeping, before he looked at the stairs as if expecting Kelakheva to come crashing down them. “Kelakheva banned you! You used sheomancy on me? What did he do to me? My gods, no wonder I feel so well, I’ve been touched by a demenos.”
“Kissed,” Josiah corrected, not looking up from his sewing. “You’ve been kissed by a demenos, dear brother. Open mouth.”
Malagant shot him a dirty look. “Go back to your sewing.”
“It’s not a damn kiss. He breathed the Smokes of Shol into you. Your liver was failing, your whole body was. You were bloody-well dying in front of us.”
Josiah glanced up at Malagant. “Did he put his tongue into your mouth?” Josiah vulgarly licked his lips, not breaking eye contact as he did.
Malagant’s eye twitched. It had been a long time since his wits had been evenly matched. Most of the time Teal just scoffed and waved him off, or complained when Malagant teased him. Ben could challenge him fine, but he was nothing compared to Malagant’s father and brother. This was going to be an interesting time until Ben returned.
Anagin looked at Josiah. “I wouldn’t tease so boldly, Josiah. Kaul Avahlis was technically in your body. So it would be your–”
“Oookay, back to Teal!” Malagant said exasperated. Josiah and Anagin started laughing. Malagant rolled his eyes. It was good to be back. He loved the four days he had with his family before they started getting on each other’s nerves; sometimes they made it to five, but that was about it.
“What has the boy told you? About what happened in Fenhold?” Anagin asked.
“Me? Wouldn’t you know already? You haven’t looked?”
Malagant’s eyes found his father’s; he noticed that Anagin looked troubled. His brow was creased in wondering and the lines on his aging face seemingly more prominent in the dim light. He sat with his bad leg crossed over his good one. His leg doing the nervous shake he seemed to do when he was trying to figure something out.
Anagin looked older each time Malagant saw him. The hair on his temples more white, the lines deeper, his lips turned more into a frown. He was limping worse too. The injury on his hip that never properly healed, that always seemed to cause him discomfort. He had never shared how he got it.
“I can’t read Teal,” Anagin admitted, tapping his finger against the space between his nose and mouth. “I could read Throateater right away, obviously I could. I managed to find Tav… but Teal… Teal is protected better than Azrayne.”
Was… Malagant didn’t say it though, he didn’t know if his father knew and he didn’t want to change the subject.
Anagin continued, “The moment I tried to even go near Teal. Throateater came out, and snapping wolves, elves made out of fire and steel. His whole self covered in an iron fortress. If I didn’t retreat they would have torn the tendrils right from my own head.”
His father always had a way of making them understand what it was like to be in someone else’s mind. He said that it was almost tangible how it worked. Each elf’s mind had a level of guard, a level of security. If you had someone like Nyte, the mind was impenetrable, but on the other hand, someone like Ben or his own would have their mind open for anyone. Anagin had tried to teach him how to put his own fort up, but he could never do it. That had always disappointed his father.
<
br /> “Throateater is strong, but… as long as he hasn’t blacked out. Once he knows he’ll know how to use him, instead of the other way around.” Anagin rubbed his temple. “Never mind it. I can’t tell you before I have a word with Teal.”
“You think this side of Teal might stay?”
Anagin shot him a cold look. “I said enough of this, boy.”
Malagant let out a hiss through his teeth; Anagin had been giving Malagant that look since he could remember. “How can you talk about this with me, then not explain what it means?”
“How? I just did. If you struggle with how, that is not my problem. Review the last words I spoke and perhaps you will see how I did it.”
Malagant clenched his fists; he could feel his teeth lock as well. His father was always horrible about that, leaving off the important ends of conversations. Malagant’s whole childhood was filled with half-truths and demands to not ask questions once he shut himself down. He had been on the cusp of finally admitting his relationship with Cruz many times… but he always closed himself off and got angry if Malagant or Josiah tried to bring it up, or help him.
“I think Throateater was the reason Teal managed by himself,” Josiah said, breaking the silent standoff Malagant was having with his father. His brother was sewing a leather patch into Teal’s jerkin now. “He was only a boy of seven.”
“Josiah…” Anagin warned.
“Just a comment, I wasn’t asking for any more information,” Josiah said politely, though like all Avahlis elves, the politeness had an edge to it. “The prophecies must have been protecting him, or perhaps the demigod?”
“I would like to look at those prophecies,” Anagin said. “Malagant? Bring them.”
Malagant looked to beside Teal; his canvas backpack was right beside the dozing hibrid… who was drooling again. Malagant got up and grabbed it.
He sat back down and opened the backpack.
“Teal has his father’s bag?” A whimsical smile creased Anagin’s face, his yellow eyes got brighter before falling to sadness. “That bag has been all over Elron, suited us well in our journeys.”
“Teal says he gave it to him for his seventh birthday. Never took it off, even slept with it,” Malagant said. He pulled the Anean Prophecies out and handed it to his father. “There, you can do the honours.”
Anagin extended his hand to grab it, but as he looked at the book all the emotions drained from his face, only to be replaced with shock.
“That’s not the prophecies, Malagant.”
Malagant looked at the book, same black tome with silver scripture on it. “Sure it is, it’s just Korivander’s old copy. It’s been writing all the same, has the same stories in it.” He shook it at Anagin, urging him to take it.
Anagin hesitated, his face still looking disconcerted. “I will not be able to find it, find it and read it to me.”
Malagant licked his finger, beside him Josiah had stopped sewing. He was watching both of them, his pinched fingers still holding the taut needle, he had stopped mid-stitch.
“Seek him not, for he will not be found on the edges of Jarron’s wall. Off to the son healer,” Malagant repeated; he then let out a chuckle. “Sun is spelled s-o-n and not s-u-n, clever.”
Malagant looked up at his father; his chest clenched as he watched his Anagin’s face fall. He was looking at the book in shock.
“Dad,” Malagant said sharply, the alarm starting to rise in him. “What is it?”
“That is no prophecy scripture.” Anagin’s voice was unnaturally hollow. He took the book and flipped through several pages. Anagin shook his head. “It looks like the prophecies, it writes anew but… this, it isn’t written the same way. With Cruz and me, the prophecies were riddles or poems, lines and lines of writing that felt like jewels on your tongue when you spoke it. Not just shabby written out instructions.”
Malagant could see the dread rising on Anagin’s face, though with a stiffened upper lip he tried to hide it. “This – this is very odd.”
Anxiety rippled through Malagant like a percussion. He had known the prophecies weren’t guiding them like they should, but they’d all been hoping Anagin would offer insight on it – not add to the confusion.
“How much of Kelakheva have you seen?”
“Not much, he seems to talk to Ben more than us. With me, he told me to follow Teal when Ben had just arrived in Alcove. He told me that Tseer, a bounty hunter for Erick, was tracking them as well. I saved them from him. He was just a voice in my head though,” Malagant replied. “Teal was with him when he was in Ben’s world. Really though, since we left Lelan… it’s been crickets. Shoddy prophecy writing, shoddy direction.”
“Strange…” his father whispered. “Yet the jewel split, the prophecies do write… it is like a prophecy, but… this false book is no guide.”
“You know Kelakheva more than us… can’t you ask him?” Malagant asked. “Can you summon him?”
Anagin was rubbing his temple, as he thumbed through the book. “I… kind of can. I can set up a beacon for him and hope he answers; but I can’t summon him like I would with sheomancy.”
“I would love to talk to him and ask him why he’s been so horrible at his job lately,” Malagant mumbled. “We’ll need to keep Throateater away from him. He’s already threatened to live up to his name the next time he sees the demigod. Threatened to rape him too, it was a strange thing hearing that come out of such an adorable hibrid.”
Anagin let out a chuckle. “I would welcome Throateater to have a go at him if it would mean we get some answers,” he said with a tired smile on his face. Anagin always looked tired, from years of being a prophecy walker himself.
And since he beheld the Anean Prophecies in his hand, Malagant’s father seemed to have aged. The dark-haired elf looked older, wearier as he realized what Malagant had been dreading: that this was not an ordinary prophecy.
So many things to talk about, so many things he wanted to tell his father and have his father tell him. It had been almost a year since he had seen him last, and Josiah. The first night in his home had been too short. The moon was disappearing behind the trees, the coals in the fire growing darker. Even Josiah looked fatigued with his needle going up and down on Teal’s jerkin, flicking silver with the lamplight.
“I will not send you off, without figuring this out first,” Anagin suddenly said.
“We have to go to Garas, that has been known to Teal from the start,” Malagant said surprised. “That we do know. Kelakheva told him personally.”
Anagin’s face was defiant. “I forbid it.”
“You forbid it?” Malagant repeated. He tried to shake the feeling of being a young boy, forbidden from playing with friends after he had gotten into trouble. “I’m twenty-one!”
Anagin shook his head; he got up on shaky legs and went to refill his teacup. “The prophecies are dangerous enough as they are. Your friend is also still missing, Teal’s mind is ill, and you almost died just this afternoon. I will not send my sons out into Azoria of all places with the prophecies writing like a scrawled note.”
Sons? “Teal isn’t your son,” Malagant said flatly, his eyes narrowed. “He’s Cruz’s son.”
“Cruz’s scorched bones lay beneath the trees of Fenhold. I’m the closest thing he has to a father now,” Anagin said, walking back towards his seat with a mug of hot tea. “I agreed to create you so Kelakheva could have his ruby pendant carrier; Cruz created Teal for the same reason. Gods cursed me that it had to be my second born, just so I would have to deal with her for another couple years.”
Malagant felt a flare of anger. His mother had taken her own life after he was born, and had tried to take him with her. Malagant had always blamed his father for pushing her over the edge. There had never been a shred of love between the two.
“You and Teal, the same with the former human, Ben, all of you are joined,” Anagin continued.
“Ben?” Malagant said surprised. He could understand him and Teal, with his father
being so close to Teal’s, but Ben’s connection didn’t make a lick of sense. “He was born on earth.”
Anagin sat down with his tea and started heating it further with his firepalm. “The jewel splits but it’s still referred to as a single jewel. In essence you three are the same; somehow you all share a connection. Teal is my son, as Ben is.”
“Well, both are orphans, so I suppose they will like that,” Malagant said, still feeling a bit curt over Anagin’s comment about his mother. “You said the prophecies had died with Teal though, I was raised knowing that.” Anagin had went into a rage many times over that injustice, that he had to sacrifice his life with Cruz for them to be born, only to have Teal die in Fenhold.
Malagant had been raised with his father reminding him what a mistake he was, a disappointment. He had been yelled at, cursed at, even hit in his most powerful of rages over that injustice.
He had loved Cruz with every part of his heart and soul.
Only to have Cruz leave him after the war was over.
“Kelakheva had told me that was so,” Anagin said quietly. “He told me the boy had died a most terrible death.” He thought for a moment. “He knew all along. I wonder if it was difficult to lie to me.”
“You still speak with him often, right?”
Anagin sipped his tea. “I do.”
“But you can’t summon him?” Malagant asked, his voice strained.
“No, he comes and visits me. I don’t influence him.”
Malagant crossed his arms; his father was being vague again.
“What are you going to do, Dad?” Josiah asked. Malagant’s blond brother had been silent for most of the conversation, but listening intently. Beside him Teal still snored lightly laying with his hands tucked up under his chin, always reminding Malagant of a house cat.
“I’m keeping the two of them here, and when Ben arrives… they’ll stay here until I can get the demigod,” Anagin said. “I will not send my sons out with these unanswered questions. I gave up my life for this prophecy; I will not give up my children. Nor will I give up the kingdom I shed so much blood for.”