Ran shivered in his arms, and he held his sensitive son closer to his heart.
Whether I stay or go, I must safeguard my son, but how? Sarn glanced about for answers.
Miren saw his brother wavering, and his scowl deepened. I must make my daft brother see sense. And he knew what to say.
Ran opened his mouth to add more incentive to stay, but he never got a word out. Miren reached out to remove his nephew from the equation. But the canny boy dodged him and shot his uncle a determined look. Ran recognized the game, and his keen eyes accepted the challenge.
Damn. Those piercing emerald orbs let Miren know his nephew intended to win. They both played for keeps.
I don’t want Sarn to go back out there, but the stupid fool indentured himself.
Miren glared at the mark of the Indentured, and that hated patch glared back from under Sarn’s cloak. An “I” slashed through a howling wolf in a gold circle and below it, squatted the name of his brother’s master—the goddamned lord of the mountain himself.
Where does all this anger come from? Sarn indentured himself for me so I could attend school.
Miren swiped at the insect buzzing around his ear, sending the damned thing careening into a pile of clothes.
Sarn must go back.
There were consequences to going AWOL, and they threatened Miren’s plans. Shortening Sarn’s term of indenture was his goal. So his brother must go back right now. Miren opened his mouth to renew the argument but closed it when he caught sight of his frowning nephew.
Ran gave his uncle a look declaring a state of war existed between them.
When had it not? Miren quashed the bitter laughter bubbling up but not the jealousy gnawing at his heart.
True, the tyke has an unfair advantage, but he’ll lose this battle. Miren smiled at his nephew. It’s time to knock some much-needed sense into my magic-addled brother.
Since Sarn wasn’t the brightest lumir crystal in the box, he didn’t notice the rivalry between his son and brother. And Miren was glad he didn’t.
“You must go back,” Miren said, readying his winning argument.
Sarn gave his brother a slow nod. Miren had the right of things as usual. His indentured status conferred no rights. I must follow orders until my Ranger Masters dismiss me for the night. But I won’t risk my son. What can I do to protect the boy while I’m gone?
As Sarn cast about for an answer, he met the button eyes of his son’s stuffed bear, and some of his distress ebbed away. There was something odd about Ran’s toy, but his mind failed to dredge up what it was.
“No, Papa stays here, and we have ad-ven-tures.” Ran glared at his uncle making it clear by ‘we’ he meant himself and his father. No uncles allowed.
“I'll take you on an outing when I return,” Sarn assured him.
“No, now.”
Having grown up orphaned, Sarn understood better than anyone how much a child needed a father. When he was younger, a few men had made half-assed attempts at the whole ‘role model’ thing. But none of them had stuck around long enough to do the job.
Sarn suppressed a sigh. I’m still a son who needs a father.
He looked at his son who met his glowing eyes with nothing but determination. What am I doing raising a child? Ran deserves better than me, better than this grubby cave.
Sarn scooped up his son before Ran could forbid him again. His heart ached at the thought of disappointing the boy but setting a good example must be his top priority. So I must go face my masters and the consequences.
Surprise registered on his son’s face, and Ran opened his mouth to ask if they could go on that adventure now. Understanding dawned when he set the boy down next to the chest storing their clothes. His son nodded and squirmed out of his wet things without being prompted.
The poor child shivered in the damp, chill air of the cave while he bundled him into dry clothes then wrapped his son in a blanket. Ran popped his thumb into his mouth and blinked sleepy eyes as he laid the boy down on the straw tick and took a seat next to it.
Miren opened his mouth, but his dislike of the Rangers gave the teen pause. Sarn shook his head.
“I woke him up. I’ll put him back down for the night.”
Then I can slip away without feeling too guilty. Assuming I find some way to protect my son in my absence.
“You want to hear a story?”
Ran nodded, surprised by the offer. Usually, Miren read his son stories since the teen could read. Sarn watched the diversion take hold and bear fruit. Good because I need more time to think. There must be something I can use to protect my son.
Ran accepted his stuffed bear and snuggled in close, believing he’d gotten his way. Sarn fought a smile as he kneaded his tingling fingers. There was something off about his son’s favorite toy. Before he could brood about it, the thought slipped his mind and another one replaced it.
“You tell the story now?” Ran hugged his bear, and a knowing twinkle faded from its button eyes.
“Yes, it’s about Shayari’s Queen.”
Even in memory, her alien splendor took his breath away. That January night had slid an icy knife through every seam numbing the healing welts on his back. He’d been seventeen for a little over two months then. Only a week had passed since he’d ended up in the dungeon, sick and bleeding from thirty lashes across his back. Worst of all, I still don’t remember what led up to that whipping.
So of course, that night, he'd stood there, teeth chattering as he berated himself for losing the respect of the Rangers—nor had he won that back in the intervening years.
“Papa?” Ran asked.
Sarn blinked, and memories sharp enough to draw blood three years later retracted their blades so he could speak.
“Yes, it was freezing. The forest had melted into the night and was indistinguishable from it.”
Sarn rubbed the back of his neck. Heat rushed to his face distracting him from the story but not the memories. The oppressive darkness of that night struck him. Something about it reminded him of tonight, but Beku’s voice cut off any further speculation.
You’re reckless, Ran’s mother accused. She'd subtracted herself from their lives two weeks before Ran’s fourth birthday leaving their son half-orphaned. You’re irresponsible, irrational, and plain selfish. It’s your fault I’m gone. Everything’s your fault.
“Papa?”
Ran’s green eyes narrowed as his worried voice cut across those accusations. He unearthed a hand from his blanket cocoon and laid it on Sarn’s arm, and the touch broke the spell the past had woven.
Beku’s poisonous presence was still gone from their lives. Relieved, Sarn held his son a little tighter.
“Sorry, I was just thinking.”
Miren leveled a look packed with worry, and the weight of that concern slapped Sarn upside the head.
“You promised a story.”
Ran hugged his stuffed bear, and its button eyes gave Sarn a reproachful look.
“Yes, I did.” Sarn paused to gather his thoughts. “I saw a silver glow, but the moon had already set. Her star-strewn crown cut through the rippling dark of the enchanted forest, and I asked Gregori what made that silver light—”
Out of the darkness, she’d come, carrying hope’s brand as she processed through a sea of trees. Great age had wafted off her bark, and power had limned her in its pure light.
“Who’s Gregori?” Ran asked.
“He’s one of the Rangers I sometimes work with while you’re asleep.”
“What did he say?”
“She is Shayari—The Queen of All Trees. She’s how our country got its name.”
“What happened next?”
“She stopped at the edge of the forest by the twin circles of standing stones. They’re taller than I am—”
And nothing magical can pass their cordon except me. Though tonight, even I had trouble. Will a day come when they’ll bar me? Sarn shook such thoughts away.
“What did she look like?”
‘Want’ wasn’t the right word. I needed to go to her.
“Did you?” Ran squeezed Sarn’s arm.
Sarn shook his head, wishing he had. “No, Gregori stopped me.”
But the Queen of All Trees’ eyeless gaze had caressed him despite the distance. Maybe she’d known I wouldn’t be allowed to go to her. Sarn looked at his son, who waited for the story to continue.
“What happened next?”
“Twinkling lights launched from the tips of her branches. They whirled on the wind forming rival constellations—”
Oh, I’m such a fool. I know how to protect my son. Sarn fumbled through the pockets lining his tunic and trousers searching for her gift.
“Can I see it?” Ran extended a hand palm up toward him.
“Yeah, it’s here—”
Sarn dug out a waterproof pouch and removed an object radiating a silver glow. It was the size of a peach pit and soft due to the filaments covering it. She was all that was good and noble in the world, and her power lingered in the object he held out to his son. The smallest part of her will protect him.
Ran turned the Queen of All Trees’ gift over in his hands delighting in it. Too late Sarn noted his brother’s sour expression. When Miren moved in to check out the thing, Sarn fished out another one and handed it over.
“You have two?” Miren looked at his brother in surprise.
“Half a dozen actually, the air was thick with them.”
Sarn shrugged and pulled out four more. He tended to pocket anything odd he came across since it made great fodder for conversations.
Ran accepted another one with a grateful smile. Sarn returned the remaining three to its waterproof pouch and laid it by his son in case two weren’t enough.
“Sarn—”
“I know—”
“Yeah, but will you—?”
Sarn nodded. His plan of telling his son a story to put the child to sleep had failed. Ran was more awake now than before and curious too. But I found a way to safeguard my son, so my mission is a success in that sense.
“What do you think it is?” Miren handed the luminous item back to Sarn.
“A seed maybe, I'm not sure.” Sarn shrugged. “I never gave them much thought until now.”
But she must have known I’d need the gift someday. What a wonder she was.
“You don’t want to hang on to one?” Sarn held out a seed to his brother. On his hand, it pulsed with the Queen of All Trees’ power.
Miren shook his head. “No, we’ll be fine here. You hang on to them for luck.”
“Thank you.” Sarn slid the seed into a waterproof pouch.
Miren held his hand out to his nephew, but Ran hugged his treasures to his chest and shook his head.
“It’s okay,” Sarn said to his brother, then to his son, “You keep those. It’s a gift twice given, once to me and now to you.”
Their light will shield my son from that dark power I sensed and my brother too.
Miren glanced at the door. Sarn got off his ass to take his punishment like the man he kept claiming he was.
“No,” Ran said without taking his eyes off the seeds. They were enormous compared to his little fingers.
“Keep those with you until I return.”
Damn the Rangers and their need to control my every waking moment. At least it gives me an excuse to march back outside and separate fact from fancy. If there was some dark force at work, I want to know. Maybe there's something I can do about it.
Ran nodded and readied another argument, but Miren cut him off.
“You don’t need his permission to go.”
Miren was right, but Ran owned part of his free time.
If my son gives permission, it’ll make the leaving less painful since I already have Miren’s blessing.
“I’ll take you somewhere nice I promise as soon as I return. And you too, Miren, when you get a break from school. I know it’s hard having me gone so much.”
Sarn stared at his hands wishing he could do more. But there isn’t time enough to be both father and brother. I’m always letting one of them down. I must try harder.
Ran considered his offer and ignored the pointed glares his uncle sent. “You promise?”
Sarn glanced at Miren to include him. “I promise.”
Some of Miren’s anger drained away revealing the child he’d raised, and the sight hurt so much, tears pricked Sarn’s eyes. I didn’t do enough for Miren when he was young.
“Hey, you did the best you could. Stop feeling sorry for things you can’t change.” Miren squeezed Sarn’s shoulder, and he nodded.
Sending Miren to school might make amends for all I got wrong. At least that was Sarn’s hope. Otherwise, everything he’d done was for nothing.
Ran unhappily echoed his uncle’s nod. “You finish the story first.”
Sarn searched about for inspiration. “Legend says one day the Queen of All Trees will crown a woman with a crown of many lights. Or something—” He trailed off.
Ran looked from the seeds to his father until it dawned on him the story had ended. “No more?” he asked his disappointment plain.
“Sorry, I haven’t seen the Queen of All Trees since then.”
I wish I’d seen her tonight. Sarn ignored his brother’s glare. If Miren stared any harder, he risked straining something important.
Ran put the seeds on his stuffed bear’s belly and held his arms out for a hug. Sarn embraced his son taking care not to wet the boy’s clothes again then tucked Ran back under the covers. While Ran resumed his study of the seeds, Sarn caught the button eyes of his son’s stuffed bear—and they read his worry. He reached out and patted Bear’s fuzzy head. It just felt like the thing to do, and he received a smile from Ran in return.
With one last regret-filled glance at his son, Sarn heaved himself to his feet.
“We’ll be fine. Go before you’re missed.” Miren made shooing gestures.
“Thank you. I’ll see you both later.” Sarn opened the door and stepped out.
A shadow flitted across the threshold, and he turned. What was that?
A scrawny rat peeked out from a narrow cleft in the wall opposite him. No one’s waiting to ambush you. Calm down.
Miren and his son both called out goodbyes as Sarn pulled the door shut and waited until he heard the telltale click of the lock.
They’re on their own until I return. No one down here will help if trouble knocks. But there’s nothing I can do about that except what I’ve already done.
So he walked away. Sarn had been gone for an hour already, and it would take another hour to reach the Rangers. What will I find when I rejoin them? And how much trouble will I be in?
Chapter 5
Jagged stone comprised the tunnel Sarn followed. A strip of piss-colored lumir attempted to light it. His eyes made up for the lack as he considered his options. Go back the way I came or find a new route? It took his internal map only a moment to return an answer.
For the next forty-five minutes, Sarn worked his way north-eastward. When people icons flared up on his head map, he darted into one of the many staircases he passed. Anyone out this late had nothing good on his mind.
Ahead, the tunnel belled out into a mile-long cavern, and its width was half its length. Best of all, no people icons littered that enclosed space. Lumir dotted the ceiling in constellations of stars, and up a long slope, an underground castle squatted more than two miles from the main areas of habitation. Why the Litherians had built a giant castle down here in the bowels of the earth, no one knew, but speculation abounded.
Sarn checked his head map again. Yes, a cluster of symbols he recognized as belonging to the
Rangers hung out about a hundred-feet from a rock pile on the surface where the secret stairway in the north tower exited. Stonework broke up that expanse providing plenty of cover for him to slink between, so Sarn did.
A light bloomed behind him at the same time a translucent hand landed on his shoulder, scything through it in a burst of intense cold and pain immobilizing his arm. Breaking from cover, Sarn tripped as magic exploded out of him in a wave of green radiance. And it passed right through the ghost whose hands tried to catch the magic streaming past. Its dead eyes fixed on Sarn.
"What do you want?"
But the apparition just turned its hand, so the light it had gathered poured out. Magic crashed down on Sarn, driving him to his knees until something inside him reached out and gathered it up, sliding a warm membrane over his skin to revive his numb shoulder. Still tingling, his now unfrozen arm reported in for duty, and Sarn pushed to his feet. Maybe he'd exhausted the ghost, or maybe it had no more tricks to pull. Whichever was the case, the ghost child just floated between him and the castle mute and staring.
"Why are you following me? I don’t know how to help you, but I intend to try."
Sarn scrubbed a hand over his face. When he lowered it, the ghost was gone. A rat scampered atop a nearby rock pile, its whiskered nose twitching as it tested the air. It was scrawny, like the one he’d seen outside his cave.
It’s just one more coincidence in a night full of them.
Closing his traitorous eyes, Sarn stuck out a hand and laid it on a section of crumbling wall. He faced the castle and yanked his head map into view. Did my spectacular loss of control have an audience?
No people icons popped up in the tunnel leading to this cavern, so maybe no one had seen him. The Rangers' symbols scattered across the meadow above, and their number included the commander. Damn, I must get moving.
Sarn followed the vague markings on his head map as his map redrew itself, adding new details while he walked. The remains of a footbridge spanning the dry moat gave Sarn a reference. And his magic had no interest in the rotting wood, so the flow of information cut off. Thank Fate, because it was starting to drive me to distraction.
Curse Breaker: Books 1-4 Page 5