Maybe the man didn't see his first wave. It was awfully dark in here because Ran was supposed to be sleeping, not entertaining visitors, and his hand was very small. Ran waved again just to rule that out, but it didn’t seem to help. The man didn't fall into the usual pattern of call and response that Ran was used to, and he didn't know what to do now.
“Where’d he go?” asked his visitor.
Ran shrugged. He didn’t know what the man was talking about, and he tried to tell the guy that, but his visitor didn’t understand baby talk. Neither did the Bright One, but he was fun to play with because his light often played too, and it tickled.
“There was another faun with me. I know there was. I saw him in the light. But I'm here, and he's not. So, where is he?”
The man turned into the dim light filtering in between the curtains that created this little alcove. He had curving horns and a furry face like Bear. Maybe Bear could help this fuzzy guy out. Ran felt around for his stuffed friend but didn’t find him. Bear must have wandered off again. Ran called out for him in case he was nearby.
“I guess it doesn't matter. He's probably back with the others. Hyntra must have messed up when she used the wish stone. What a surprise. She’s so damned impatient.” The furry man shrugged as he came to a decision. “I guess you’re the child I came for.” He approached the basket where Ran was sitting and watching him. “Hello, little one.”
“Hi,” Ran replied. Now, this was more like it. He giggled, amused by the strange visitor bending over his basket, hands extended for a pick-up. But his aura didn’t tickle like the Bright One’s. It was all sharp edges, and it pricked Ran’s awakening gift of magic. He squirmed away from the horned man, not liking his touch at all and waved his tiny fists as he kicked out.
But a big hand wormed its way under his rump despite his writhing, and another hand slipped under his head to support it. Ran flailed about with his tiny arms and legs, but the stranger had a good grip on him as he lifted the baby out of his basket, giving Ran a good view of the floor.
The ground was a long way down, almost as far away as when the Bright One carried him. He wanted the Bright One to come right now and take him away from the furry man with the jagged aura. It hurt when it touched Ran, and he cried.
“Don’t you cry, Little One. You and I are going for a long ride in the snow.” A malicious smile twisted the stranger’s pink lips. His captor had a hooked nose marred by a purpling bruise, and it too was furry. A jewel winked in his earlobe. It was the same kind of crystal the Bright One kept in his pockets. It glowed a soft gold.
Ran didn’t want to go anywhere with this stranger, so he let loose an ear-splitting wail as his captor parted the curtains revealing another alcove full of sleeping children. The third child from the left startled awake at his scream. That boy had always been nice to Ran, and he was usually with the Bright One. Maybe he could help. He gave that boy an imploring look.
* * *
Miren woke with a start at his nephew’s scream and stared at a silver hoof in wonder. It was an inch from his face, and it reflected the clutter lying cheek-by-jowl with the awakening children. His beloved older brother’s voice echoed in his head before Miren could panic.
“If you’re ever in trouble, look around you. Use whatever’s to hand to get yourself out of trouble then run and hide. I’ll find you,” Sarn had told him repeatedly over the last couple of years.
That advice calmed Miren and focused his mind. His gaze bounced from the tin cup balanced on a short stack of books in front of his face to the bell laying on its side. In between, a minefield of combs, jacks, brushes, buckets, crusts of moldy things, wizened apples, holey cloaks, discarded socks, broken shoelaces, cracked plates, and other detritus dropped by the two dozen kids and teens who frequently slept here littered the floor.
There wasn’t an inch of stone free of abandoned items. Belongings were strewn everywhere around the children rolled up in their blankets, but there was no sign of his fretting nephew until Miren looked up and up, his eyes widening in shock.
“He’s got my nephew! Stop him!” Miren reached for that furry leg, but the Goat Man leaped out of reach and knocked over a stack of crates spilling straw and more plates. The Goat Man wobbled when he stepped on the small tower Miren’s homework assignments had made. Papers shot out of that pile, tripping the Goat Man up. All the while, Ran kept up his red-faced screaming and swung his little fists and feet, but the determined tyke didn’t land any blows.
The Goat Man stumbled, banged his shoulder into a hammock and dumped a bleary teenager onto his back. Twirling on one hoof, the creature flung himself into a wall, crushing poor Will. But his lanky friend clung on with shaking arms despite the Goat Man’s bucking. Maybe they could win this fight.
“Help me,” Will begged. His brown eyes pleaded for help. Will was a sandy-haired youth of fifteen who was all legs and arms, and he was rail thin to boot, so his added weight didn’t slow the Goat Man down any. But at least he was trying to stop that creature. That was more than anyone else was doing.
“Put the baby down!” Miren picked up items at random, aimed for a spot that was not near his nephew, and chucked them at the Goat Man. He threw cups, plates, unlit candles, and every potential projectile he could find.
Nor was he alone. A half dozen other children—orphans all—threw everything that wasn’t nailed down at that creature.
“Be careful! Don’t hit my nephew. He’s just a baby, and babies are fragile,” Miren said when a plate struck the Goat Man uncomfortably close to the baby he carried.
His fellow Foundlings murmured their assent. None of them wanted to face his brother’s wrath if that baby was hurt. Sarn didn’t get angry often, but when he did, Sarn could be quite scary. Of course, he’d never hurt anyone, but only Miren knew that. The Foundlings needed some incentive to exercise some care, and a little fear was a good thing if it yielded the right results.
And it did. The Foundlings adjusted their aim, lowering it so there was no chance of hitting the screaming baby. Broken crockery cut the Goat Man’s skinny legs. Blood trickled from a dozen cuts, but that damned creature kept slamming Will against the wall while carrying an unhappy Ran in a one-armed hold against his chest.
“What the hell is going on here?”
Beku’s shout froze everyone except Miren. He’d never liked her or her sad eyes or the hold she had over his brother. So, he lobbed one more projectile—a tin cup—at the Goat Man’s head. It missed by a hand span as a dazed Will slid from the Goat Man’s back.
Beku jerked aside the curtain screening off her private alcove to get a better view of the frozen tableau. Even the Goat Man froze at her shout. She was a tough, no-nonsense woman, stout in heart and build, decades older than all of them. Upon seeing her baby boy in the arms of a monstrous creature, Beku paled and fell back a step. Her hand fluttered over her rounded belly, but she didn’t scream. She didn’t utter a single word of protest.
Miren glared at her. “Aren’t you going to do something?” Beku was the only adult here excluding the Beast Man, who looked more goat than man.
The Goat Man nodded to Beku as if they had an understanding, and he turned, his cloak flaring around him and flung open the door and fled before anyone could react, leaving a glass vial containing a purple liquid behind. Beku picked it up with shaking hands and stuffed it into her skirt pocket as the door shut on its own, startling everyone.
An argument erupted, but Miren ignored it as he pushed past Beku and flung open the door. The Goat Man was gone without a trace. Not a single footfall betrayed where he'd gone, and an eerie silence blanketed the dim tunnel.
“Where’d he go? He can't have gotten away so quickly. We’d hear him.” Miren waved to the miles of undressed stone winding away from this cave.
A yellow bar of light cut across his young, confused face, leaving the rest of the tunnel in deep shadow. He felt way out of his depth. Nothing in the eleven years he’d been alive had prepared him for this. He should
find his brother. Sarn always knew what to do.
“We could search the tunnels around here,” Will suggested, but he wasn’t looking at Miren.
His troubled brown eyes were fixed on Beku’s retreating back. He'd seen her pick up that vial while everyone's attention had been on the door and the missing kidnapper. Miren had seen it too but finding his nephew must take priority over that little mystery.
As Beku withdrew into her alcove, she withdrew into herself. The curtain separating her space from the Foundlings’ main living area fell back into place with a finality none dared to interrupt. Except for Will, who started toward it until Miren stopped him.
“Let her go. She’s made her choice.”
“And you've made yours.”
Miren nodded and let go of Will.
“What happened here? Why are you all up in arms?” asked the gray-clad person rounding the bend.
It was Shade, of course, one of Sarn’s friends. Miren had never understood what his brother saw in that androgynous enigma, but maybe the weirdo could help him find his nephew.
Miren shelved all his distrust and misgivings as he marched over to Shade. His mundane brown eyes dared Shade to deny him. Only Shade’s eyes were visible above the veil covering his or her face. A deep hood picked up where that veil left off and covered his or her hair. Shade was clad all in loose-fitting, androgynous gray from the top of his or her head to the bottom of his or her scuffed boots.
Miren still didn't know what to make of the androgynous Shade, none of the Foundlings did. But his brother trusted him, her, it, they. He could do worse than to trust Shade.
“Someone kidnapped my nephew. We must tell my brother, right now,” Miren said, and there was a challenge in his voice.
“Did you see anyone on your way here?” Will asked as he too studied Shade.
“I saw lots of people. This is the Lower Quarters, after all. Thousands of indentured men and women occupy its many caves. Could you be a bit more specific about who I should have seen?”
“It was a ‘he’ not a ‘who'. And he was probably about as tall as my brother, but he had horns and hooves.” Miren gestured to make his point. “And he was carrying my nephew!”
“Did you see anyone like that? He was rather goatish from the waist down and furry all over.” Will shook his head, baffled by the description he was giving. It sounded surreal even to Miren, and he'd seen the kidnapper up close.
“He had silver hooves,” Miren put in because that detail sounded important. He just had no idea what it meant.
But Shade had heard enough. “I didn't see anyone like that. We'd best tell your brother about it.”
“We?”
Shade nodded. “Your brother doesn't want you wandering around the Lower Quarters by yourself. It's not safe, so I must accompany you.” Shade caught the edge of his or her cloak and bowed.
Miren heaved a tired sigh and resigned himself to Shade's company. “I’m not a child anymore.” At eleven, Miren had seen more than some men twice his age, but Shade’s dark eyes questioned that assumption. “I’m old enough to save my nephew.”
“If your brother allows. He’s your legal guardian,” Shade said as he or she threw an arm around Miren’s shoulders.
“Wait, if you didn't see the Goat Man, then why were you headed here?” Will asked just as Miren started to wonder the same thing.
Shade smiled behind his or her veil, and his or her eyes glittered like brown crystals in the low light. But Shade just gestured for Miren to follow then the enigma turned the bend and disappeared.
But Miren refused to be put off that easily. He scowled at Shade’s back. “You came because of my brother, didn't you? Either he sent you to check on me or something happened to him.”
“You’re very perceptive. Perhaps that education your brother’s blood, sweat, and tears earns for you is worth it after all.” Shade bowed again to Miren.
“Which is it? Is my brother okay?” Miren seized a handful of Shade’s shapeless gray robes and tugged.
“He’ll be fine, better if he wakes and sees you there. If you'll let go of me, I'll take you to him. I know how much he worries about you.” Though, Shade said that as if he or she couldn't understand what there was to worry about.
Still, it was nice hearing confirmation of what Miren had always known. His brother thought about him when he wasn’t around, and that mollified him a little. Miren backed off and released Shade.
“Then take me to my brother.”
“I’m coming too,” Will said, surprising them both.
“So are we,” said Moirraina. She fisted her hands on her hips and glared at Miren like he was a little kid, which he wasn’t. At sixteen, she was taller than him and had something called ‘the hots’ for his brother.
Moirraina seemed to be the spokeswoman for the orphans who’d tried to stop that Goat Man. Either she’d changed clothes since his escape, or she’d worn that curve-hugging dress to bed. It didn’t look comfortable especially the way her breasts spilled out of it, but what did he know? He wasn’t a girl.
Miren shrugged. What could he do? They had just as much of a right to come along as he had. Sarn wouldn’t like any of this. Maybe it would be better to have an audience present when he told his brother what had happened.
“Fine then come along and keep up. We haven’t got a moment to lose.” And a lot of levels to traverse before they reached his brother.
As he limped after the speed-walking Shade, Miren hoped his brother could use his magic to locate his nephew. He didn't want to think of what would happen if Sarn couldn’t, so he didn’t. Sarn had pulled off miracles with his magic in the past. This would be no different. There was nothing his big brother couldn’t do when he put his mind to it.
Miren held onto that hope as the shadowy tunnel led to an equally dim staircase. It was a tiny flame sheltered in his heart. It couldn’t fill the space his missing nephew had left behind, but if he never let that little light go out, he would hold his darling little nephew again. Because that was how his brother's magic worked. Miren was as certain of that as he was of his own name.
Chapter 15
Strella tapped Robin on the shoulder as she trudged past. “You’ll break your neck if you keep doing that. Or you’ll trip over something. I’d lay good odds on the latter.”
“You can’t break your neck just by looking behind you.”
“I’ll make sure to mention that during your eulogy.”
Robin would have rolled her eyes at that ridiculous threat but doing so would take her eyes off those peculiar menhirs, and she couldn’t do that. Not until the creatures standing motionless beyond it left. They were gray smudges against the snow, but their presence bothered her. It was like a stone in her shoe. Behind those wolves, the enchanted forest loomed.
Rosalie’s kidnappers were somewhere in that dense tangle. Robin would stake her life on that. She just needed someone to tell her how to find their lair, and that someone must be somewhere around here else why would the Queen of All Trees send her here?
That was enough of a reason to face forward and trudge onward. But she didn't want to see the wounds Strella had refused to let her tend. Guilt pricked her for that. If only she’d reacted faster, Strella might not have been wounded at all.
“Will you quit that? I'm fine. It’s just a little blood. I can walk a frigging mile to help.”
“And hike up that mountain? Because I doubt help will be waiting at the bottom. This isn’t a bard’s tale.” And this snowy meadow was so abandoned, it was creeping Robin out. Where were the Rangers? They’d crossed half of the meadow already and there was still no sign of them.
“Henges are protective things, right?” Strella asked instead of answering Robin’s question.
“They’re supposed to be.” Robin bit her lip and glanced behind her again. There was an uneasy feeling growing in the pit of her stomach. She touched the necklace, but it felt different when she’d stood in the henge. Maybe she was imagining that. So
much had happened in such a short time.
“Look, the makers of that henge occupied this valley a really long time ago. If they left any magical surprises behind, I’m sure someone from Mount Eredren found and diffused them by now since that stronghold is around here somewhere.”
Strella adjusted the rope harness looped about her chest, and Robin guiltily did the same. It didn't help though. Every step forward pulled that rope tight across her sternum as she finally turned around and confronted the mountain in front of her. If those lupine creatures were still waiting on the other side of those giant rocks, Robin couldn’t see them anymore.
The meadow wasn't as flat as it had first appeared. It dipped gradually down to the craggy feet of the mountain forming a shallow bowl with the henge on its broad rim. But there was no sign of the settlement that had to be here somewhere.
Why put a massive henge around it if there was no one living there? Find a Ranger. And hope he wasn’t a bastard like her husband, Ison.
Thoughts of him sent a fiery anger coursing through Robin. His strong profile hovered at the edge of her thoughts backlit by the setting sun streaming in the window beside their bed. Its red rays had died his hair, turning it the color of wine-soaked nights as she’d parted the bed curtains to find him with another woman.
Robin must have made some sound because he’d woken up swinging, and she could still feel the sting of his fist as it had struck her face. Blows had mixed with insults and threats. Her memory of what had happened next was blurry as if she'd watched that terrible fight through a dirty window instead of living through it.
Her next clear memory was of waking up alone on the cold floor with the rain drumming in her ears. Every part of her had hurt, but Robin had only thought of her baby when she'd crawled into the muddy street frightened for the child in her womb. She'd needed someone to tell her if her baby was okay, but the street had been abandoned because of an event.
Everyone in town must have attended, including Ison. That had been her chance to undo the mistake she'd made three years ago when she'd left home with him. Then, he'd been an idealistic young man afire to change the world, and she'd been captivated by his drive and determination.
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