The Book of Kaels Bundle (Books 2 - 4): The Wood Kael, The Metal Kael, The Fire Kael

by Wendy Wang

  Cilla winced. She knew that tone all too well. She’d heard it any time her mother felt let down by her. Tahlulah took another sip of her tea, and pushed away from the table.

  “Mama,” Cilla said. “Don't be like that.”

  “Well, Cilla, how would you like me to be?” Her mother sighed, turning on her.

  “I'd like for you to be supportive. Is that too much to ask?”

  “Cilla Rose I have done nothing except support you your entire life. I supported you when you came crying to me because you were pregnant and you weren't sure that Egan Crane was going to marry you. I supported you the first time you came home with a black eye and a fractured cheekbone because you’d burned his eggs. I supported you when you finally had enough sense to leave him. I understand he’s the boys' father and that he has certain rights but I'm just not sure this visit is just about the boys.”

  Cilla's breath stuttered in her throat and her cheeks caught fire with shame. How dare her mother call her out this way in front of her children?

  “Of course it's about the boys,” Cilla snapped.

  “I certainly hope so. Because I don't think I can support you if you choose to take him back.”

  “Mama,” Cilla said. “You don't mean that.”

  “I do Cilla. I think I really do.” Her mother turned and walked out of the room without looking back.

  ******

  Y'Ana was nowhere to be found. Neala had searched every bedroom on the entire floor. How could she have lost a child? When she emerged from the last room she ran into Gordon.

  “Hello, Your Majesty,” Gordon said. He gave her a smile, his eyes becoming half-moons.

  “Gordon,” Neala said. “I didn’t realize you were back. Did you find your parents?”

  “I did. Thank you for asking. They’re fine. Their house burned to the ground but they’re safe. I brought them back with me.”

  “I am so glad to hear that. I was worried when Cai told me they were missing. Perhaps we can do something for them. Nothing would make me happier than for your mother to become my personal healer.”

  Gordon smiled. “Well, I’ll be sure to let her know. You look a little panicked. Is there something I can help you with, Majesty?”

  “I seem to have misplaced a child,” Neala laughed but it was too sharp and too loud in her ears. “Perhaps you can help me look.”

  “Of course.” He grinned and chided, “Which child have you misplaced? Obviously not your own.”

  She rolled her eyes. “No, I've lost track of Y'Ana.”

  “I see,” he said. “Well, what does she look like.”

  “She's seven years old, small—very small for her age. Large blue eyes. White blond hair like her mother.” Neala felt the prickle of tears at the back of her throat inexplicably. She sniffled.

  “Are you all right, Majesty?” Gordon said his tone softening.

  “Yes,” she said sniffing back the tears. “You have to ignore me. I seem to be more emotional these days.”

  “I imagine you are,” he said. “Nothing to be ashamed of. Tiny, blond girl. Got it.”

  They went floor by floor of the palace and enlisted Tahlulah, Sorrel and two maids to cover more ground. There was still no sign of the girl after an hour of searching. Neala stopped and put her hands on her hips, shaking her head back and forth.

  “I don't know what to do here,” she said.

  “We will find her,” Gordon said. “My daughter used to love to hide. She thought it was funny. Don't worry. She’ll turn up as soon as she gets hungry or lonely or scared.

  “Do you smell that?” Tahlulah said as she approached them.

  Neala took a deep breath. The sharp scent of burning wood pierced her senses. “Fire.”

  “Yes,” Tahlulah said. “That's exactly what I thought.”

  Neala moved towards the source, terror mushrooming in her chest as a thin haze of smoke wafted through the halls in the south wing.

  “Y'Ana! Y'Ana Fein answer me right this minute!” she screamed. Sorrel and Tahlulah followed close behind, but were stopped by coughing as soon as the smoke grew too thick.

  “Get them out of here,” she snapped at Gordon.

  “We need to get you out of here too, Majesty,” Gordon said. “Affinity or not, this smoke can’t be good for the baby.”

  “Don't worry about me,” she said coughing into her elbow. “I'll be fine. I'm not leaving here without Y'Ana. Gather any Water Kaels you can and bring them to this wing.”

  She didn't stay long enough to argue, taking off towards the source of the fire. By the time she got to the room, smoke burned her eyes, and the wooden rafters were on fire. Y'Ana sat against the bare stone wall, screaming, crying. Calling out for Eryn.

  “Y'Ana!” Neala yelled.” She raised her hands to command the fire and it resisted at first. She had to stop and focus before it obeyed. The flames parted enough for her to cross the room to the child, but they refused to die completely.

  When she reached the girl, she bent down to the child’s eye-level. The little girl’s stuffed bear had been singed and was blackened with smoke but the child clung to it holding it to her chest.

  “I want to go home!” Y’Ana cried. “I want Eryn.”

  “Come on sweetie,” Neala held her arms out. Y'Ana shook her head.

  “I want to go home! Everybody leaves me!”

  “Please Y'Ana.” Neala said softly hoping the child could hear her over the roar of the flames. “If you give us a chance this can be your home. I promise, I won’t leave you. Please.”

  The child sniffled rubbing her face into the burned bear’s head.

  “You promise?” Y'Ana reached her hand out and touched Neala’s face. A cold prickle sliced through her mind. The girl was reading her thoughts.

  “Yes.” Neala touched the child’s face. “I promise.” Her mind filled with flashes of memory belonging to the girl — her mother screeching at her and slapping her head, Eryn’s kindness to her in a rose garden, the conflict of relief and sadness she felt when her mother died, Trygg carrying her on his shoulders when she was too tired to walk, Tom showing her how to play Kick the Flame, and Neala drawing with her. The last memory sent fresh hope through Neala’s heart.

  Y'Ana launched herself at Neala, wrapping her arms tightly around her neck. The flames grew wilder and stronger for a moment before dying back.

  Neala kissed the girl on the side of the head, nuzzling against her ears. “Y'Ana can you put the flames out for me?”

  Y'Ana nodded her head raised her hand and made a fist. The flames snuffed out sending gray smoke spiraling into the air. Neala picked the child up and carried her out of the room.

  Eighteen

  Cilla carried Danny despite his protests and held tight to Tom's hand. They followed the guard through a maze of hallways and cell-blocks before finally reaching Egan's cell. He sat on the edge of his cot facing the wall. A couple of stools had been brought in and placed in the center of the cell. The guard inserted a key and the door clanged, resounding down the hall when he pushed it aside. The guard, a man that couldn't have been more than nineteen, gave Egan a nod as if they knew each other.

  “Thanks, Morsen,” Egan said.

  “I'm gonna have to wait out here,” Morsen said.

  Egan smiled. “Of course.”

  “You can go in now, ma'am,” the young warden said gesturing towards the open cell.

  “Thank you,” she said. Tom let go of her hand and ran into the cell.

  “Daddy!”

  “Tommy my boy!” Egan said kneeling down with his arms open. Tom flung himself into his father's arms and Egan stood up lifting the boy into the air hugging him, waving him around, his little legs dangling like jelly strings. Tom laughed. “Did you miss me?”

  Tom shifted in his father's arms and Egan supported him, holding him underneath his bottom. “I missed you a lot. When are you coming home?”

  Egan shifted his gaze to her. “I don't know son. It all depends on when they let me ou
t and whether your mother will let me come home.”

  Cilla scowled. “Don't give the boy false hope. Your father’s not coming home sweetie. I'm sorry.”

  “Oh.” Tom’s face crumpled with disappointment.

  “Let me give your mother a hug okay?” Egan said. He kissed the boy on the cheek and placed him on the floor before Tom could protest.

  Cilla’s stomach knotted and she took a step back.

  “Jerugia's crown Cilla you don't have to look so scared. I'm not going to hurt you.”

  “I want a hug.” Danny whined. Cilla straightened his shirt and kissed him on the temple.

  Egan grinned and reached for his youngest son, pulling him from her hip.

  “Okay give me a hug little Dan Man,” Egan said. The boy wrapped his arms around his father’s neck and Egan patted his back. “Have you been a good boy for your mama?”

  Danny nodded his head.

  Tom scoffed. “Sure you are.”

  “I am a good boy,” Danny protested.

  “Well of course you are,” Egan said. “You're both good boys right, Tom?”

  Tom's mouth twisted. “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. Danny I’m going to set you down now. I want to give your mother a hug,” Egan said. He bent over and placed the boy on the floor next to his brother. When he stood up, he opened his arms and his shoulders went up in a slight shrug. His expectant gaze fixed her to the spot and her heart fluttered against her ribs. She glanced down at her boys, both watching their parents with anticipation. The soles of her shoes scraped against the stone floor as she stepped forward. His arms tightened around her. Her body tensed against him but he didn’t let go, instead he held onto her until she finally relaxed against him.

  “I’ve missed you,” he whispered against her ear. A hint of desperation shaded his voice and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to be affected by his familiar scent or the warmth of his body against hers.

  “Egan,” she said softly.

  “I’m so sorry for all the pain I’ve caused you.” His lips brushed against the skin of her neck and a thrill of electricity went down her back. “Please forgive me.” His nose nuzzled beneath her ear. “I love you so much, Cilla. So, so, much.”

  “Egan,” she whispered. Her arms found his waist and she held him closer. A spark of self-hatred bloomed inside her for her weakness, but she brushed it away and it flickered out. “Oh Egan, I’m so scared. I don’t know how to do this without you.”

  The feel of his lips against her neck sent a thrill down her spine and she gave herself over to it. Her mouth found his and he plunged his fingers into her thick hair, kissing her until dizziness swirled through her brain.

  Egan pulled back, leaving her breathless and longing for more. He pressed his nose to hers. “Oh my love, I knew you wouldn’t let me down in my hour of need.”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, pressing her body into his, longing for the warmth of him. “I’m sorry for the time we spent apart. I was— I was just so angry at you.”

  “I know, and rightly so,” he said.

  “I don’t know how I’m going to live without you.”

  His shoulders stiffened beneath her hands and he hesitated. “Maybe you won’t have to.” He whispered so low she almost did hear him.

  “What are you talking about?” she said.

  He cupped her cheek and searched her face with his sharp blue eyes. What he was looking for, she didn’t know. “Nothing my love.”

  “Egan? What?”

  “Telling you anything could endanger you and our sons. I—I won’t do that, not when I’ve just gotten you back.”

  A shiver chased its way down her back. “You’re not thinking of doing anything crazy are you?”

  His lips pressed into a straight line and he glanced towards the warden standing outside his cell.

  “No,” he finally said, but she knew him too well. There was something he wasn’t saying.

  “Do you know when—” She couldn’t finish. Not with the boys here.

  “Six days,” he said too unruffled for a man who had been sentenced to die. He looked so strong, so confident.

  “Do you want us to come back? To see you?” A shard of fear sliced through her heart and she wasn’t sure what she feared most, him saying yes or him saying no.

  “I do. If you want to come.” He brushed the backs of his fingers over her face.

  “It won’t make my mother happy if I do,” she whispered.

  His jaw tightened and the hand resting against her cheek balled into a fist. Her heart sped up. She could almost hear him counting in his head, trying to calm himself.

  “I understand,” he said. A hint of a smile played at the corners of his mouth. “I’ve put you through a lot. I really am sorry.”

  “I know,” she said. “But that’s the problem, Egan. You’re always sorry.”

  His nostrils flared and his chest rose and fell with too much force. Cilla took a step back and folded her arms across her chest. From the corner of her eye she noticed Tom, watching them intently, his gaze sliding from her to Egan and back to her. Tom stepped in front of her, pressing his back against her body.

  “Daddy,” Tom said. “I’m learning how to throw fireballs.”

  “That’s great son,” Egan said, but his gaze never left Cilla’s face. “So.” He blew out a heavy breath. “What’s the palace like?”

  “You were a warden once. You don’t know?”

  “Being a guard and being a guest are two different things.”

  She shrugged one shoulder. “It’s nice. The queen is very nice. She’s great with the boys and Y'Ana.”

  “Y'Ana?” His cheek twitched.

  “The queen’s niece.”

  Egan chuckled and scrubbed his chin, the stubble sounding like sand paper against his rough palm. “The queen’s sister is dead, which means, the child is a Declan.”

  “Technically she’s a Fein first,” Cilla said.

  “Indeed,” he nodded. She could almost see the wheels of his mind spinning.

  “What are you up to Egan Crane?” she whispered. She glanced over her shoulder at the warden in the hall. He was twisting his baton in his fingers and didn’t appear to be listening to them.

  “Nothing my love.” He smiled. “Will you come see me again?”

  Cilla sighed and brushed her hands through her son’s soft hair.

  “Daddy, you want me to show you how I can make a fireball?” Tom said. He danced from foot to foot, still between his parents.

  “Sure Tommy, that’d be great,” Egan said, finally breaking his hold on her. He took a seat on the cot.

  Tom moved in front of his father and held out his hand, palm up. His shoulders moved up and down as he breathed in and out. He stared at his palm, his face reddening with concentration. The air above his palm crackled and sparked.

  Danny watched too mesmerized by his older brother’s actions.

  Tom’s sparks became a flame and the flame circled his palm until it formed a proper ball.

  “That’s excellent son,” Egan said. “You’re a strong Fire Kael, just like your daddy.”

  Tom beamed and Danny jumped up and down, thrusting his palm out, mimicking his brother.

  “Watch me! Watch me! I can do it too!” Danny yelled. He stared at his palm, his cheeks puffing up as he held his breath and concentrated. A few sparks appeared but fizzled before they struck his skin.

  Egan ruffled his hair. “That’s all right, Dan Man. There’s plenty of time for you to get as good as your brother.”

  A horn blew in the distance and doors clanging echoed down the hall. Morsen, who Cilla had almost forgotten was there, poked his head inside the cell.

  “Ma’am, I’m going to need you to step out now.” He said.

  “Why?” She asked. “We’re supposed to have an hour with him.”

  “I understand but there’s some sort of emergency going on and you can’t be in here.” Morsen’s eyes cut to Egan and then back to her.
<
br />   “All right,” she said. “Come on boys. Give your daddy a hug good-bye.”

  Tom and Danny both frowned and threw their arms around Egan’s neck.

  “You be good boys. Listen to your mother. I’ll see you again. I promise. Real soon.” Egan said. He kissed the side of each boy’s head.

  Egan stood and had her in his arms so fast it took her breath away. He pulled her closer and pressed his warm lips to hers and a fire ignited in her belly, moving throughout her body. Her hands dug into his back and she wished she could feel his skin against hers.

  “Sorry to break this up folks, but I’ve really got to close this cell now.”

  Cilla pulled away, her chest heaving, her lips burning. “We have to go.”

  “Will you be back?” he asked. For a moment the facade of confidence flickered.

  She stepped back, holding out her hands for her sons. “Come on boys, let’s go. Now.”

  Tom took one hand and Danny the other. Neither one argued with her.

  “Bye, Daddy,” Tom said.

  “Bye, Daddy,” Danny echoed.

  “Bye, boys,” he said.

  “We’ll see you soon,” she said backing out of the cell unable to break the weight of his intense gaze. Morsen slammed the door shut, making her jump.

  He moved to the cell door, wrapping his hands around the bars. “I love you, Cilla.”

  Cilla bit her lip, not wanting to say the words clinging to the tip of her tongue.

  “Ma’am,” the warden said. “We have to go now.”

  Cilla nodded and headed towards the exit. She threw one last glance over her shoulder. Egan stared at her through the bars. She stopped and rushed back to him, wrapping her hand around the bars, intertwining her fingers with his. “I love you too.”

  Egan’s mouth turned up in a grin and he nodded. “Come see me again. Alone. All right?”

  “I will,” she mouthed. She pressed her face between the bars, kissing him one last time before she rushed away, grabbing her sons’ hands and guiding them out of the building.