The Lost Son

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The Lost Son Page 10

by Kirsten Sowden


  “It’s very well camouflaged,” Hugo agreed. He inclined his head towards the sandy stone buildings bordering the yard. “There are several garrisons in the desert. It’s how the elves keep an eye on their border.”

  “You mean-” Dannymere began.

  Hugo laughed. “Yes! This is an elven outpost. Humans couldn’t cope with this heat!”

  The man in the caftan turned around and for the first time, Dannymere noticed the pointy ears of his race. The half-elf smiled and was comforted- he suddenly felt a lot closer to home. This longing to return to Elms-haven was new and unfamiliar to him but not altogether bad. Before he could dwell any further, they were dismounting and trading their mounts for towels.

  “This way to the baths,” Felis smiled and the half-elf lit up. He felt dusty all over and could not wait to get clean.

  ‘The Laughing Mermaid’ had been at sea for two days and the going had been good. A keen wind in the sails had kept them moving steadily in a north-easterly direction and the gently lapping waves had acted as a soothing balm to Albin’s nerves.

  At the start, Albin had liked gazing at the crystal blue water and he had spent a long time hanging over the side of the ship, watching tiny fish darting here and there; but when the land had slipped over the horizon and out of sight, a slight panic had set in. So, for the first three days, Albin had chosen to stay below deck, taking the opportunity to rest and recuperate from the strains of the last few weeks.

  Talia would not let him fester too long though. She was like a mother hen, fussing around him, and in the end he allowed her to coax him out of his cabin to stretch his legs and take in the air.

  Minkle was relieved. He had naturally chosen to stay with his master during the daylight hours but he was an inquisitive creature and he had taken to creeping out in the dead of night to explore and have some fun.

  On the very first night, Minkle had met an interesting man who sat at the back of the boat and never moved. He was dressed in rags but he was no pauper. So, on the fourth day, when Albin finally resurfaced, Minkle decided he should introduce him to his new friend.

  Minkle watched the beautiful elf lady link arms with his master and steer him through the cabin door and he trailed along behind them, determined to be included.

  Albin squinted as the sun reached his eyes and they struggled to adjust to the light. “It’s too bright,” he complained, covering his face with his hands.

  “Welcome back to the land of the living,” Talia teased, giving him a playful dig in the ribs. Although they had not known each other for long, a definite bond had begun to form and their conversation was easy.

  “Thanks- it’s good to be back.” Albin looked out across the water and thought that now he was fully rested, the endless expanse of sea did not appear as threatening as before.

  Talia seemed to read his mind and said, “Everyone finds it strange at first. We are born on land and we live on land. It feels unnatural to lose sight of it.”

  “It’s like slipping off the edge of the world,” Albin said philosophically.

  “And trusting the ship to get you back again,” Talia concluded.

  Albin turned to watch the Captain at the helm. He was a jolly-looking man wearing a red and white spotted bandana and a large hoop earring which dangled almost to his shoulder. His heavy hands and strong arms were more than capable of steering the ship in any weather but for now they were at ease.

  The captain beckoned to a thin man and then he was off, shimmying up the main mast to the crow’s nest. The sailor scanned the horizon like a hungry seagull, occasionally using a spy glass and turning three-hundred and sixty degrees.

  “What’s he looking for?” Albin asked.

  “I’m not sure- maybe the coastline or other ships. To be honest, I don’t know much about sailing. As a member of the royal house of Elms-haven, I haven’t spent a lot of time away from the forest.”

  “Then I’m surprised your father sent you to find the prince.”

  Talia blushed and quickly turned away. She let the breeze cool her burning cheeks before she turned back to face him. “I wasn’t sent, Albin. I wanted to go.”

  “And they let you?”

  “I’m a grown woman. I make my own choices.”

  “Did you tell your father you were going?” Albin asked gently.

  Talia shook her head and when she spoke there was bitterness in her voice. “Arius is my cousin and my best friend. I told the council that if anyone could find him, it was me. And do you know what they did? They laughed.”

  “That was unkind.”

  “It was more than unkind, Albin, it was embarrassing! They didn’t even put it to a vote. They didn’t even grant me that!” Talia paused, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. “Instead they hired Felis and Hugo- two humans- to track Arius. That was the ultimate insult- sending humans to do what elves do best. So I packed a bag and left. And when I get back, with Arius at my side, it will be my turn to laugh.”

  Albin was about to offer some words of encouragement when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a familiar flash of fur. Minkle was bounding down the ship towards the stern. “Oh no- I’ll be back in a minute,” he told Talia, before he raced away.

  When Albin caught up with Minkle, he was sitting on a heap of rags at the back of the ship. It took him a few moments to realise that beneath the rags, was a man. The man was old, with skin like parchment, and his eyes were blank and unseeing.

  “I’m Pelleus,” said the man, smiling, “and you must be Albin.”

  Albin gasped and took a step back. “What do you want?”

  “Relax, boy. You have nothing to fear. Minkle and I are already the best of friends.”

  “How do you know his name?”

  “He told me,” Pelleus replied, “and he has told me a lot about you too, Albin.”

  “Bears don’t talk,” Albin said tersely and he patted his right leg, calling his pet to heel.

  Minkle shook his head and put his paw on the old man’s arm in a gesture of solidarity. Pelleus laughed and it was a gravelly sound. “Quite right too, Minkle,” he said as if they were having a silent conversation.

  Annoyed, Albin took a quick step forward and scooped up the bear. Minkle wriggled, trying to break free but the boy was stronger than he looked. Before he knew it, Minkle was back inside the cabin and the door was locked from the outside.

  Chapter 14

  The Tools of the Trade

  That night Albin could not sleep. He kept thinking about his friends in the desert and he could not shake the feeling that they were in danger. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw swirling sand and flashing blades. It was like having a nightmare while he was still awake.

  After hours of tossing and turning, the young boy was finally starting to doze off when a loud click jolted him awake again. At first he thought there was someone coming through the door but when he peeped above the covers, he could just about see a bear-shaped shadow heading out into the passageway. The door clicked closed and Minkle was gone.

  “Aargh!” Albin grunted, swinging his thin legs over the side of the bed and rubbing his bleary eyes. The last thing he wanted was a night time excursion to the top deck but he did not want his pet roaming around alone, so close to water when he could not swim. It took him a few minutes to find his shoes in the dark and put them on, but then he was on his way.

  The sea looked completely different at night and the sight of it nearly took the boy’s breath away. The rippling waves were like strands of rich velvet and above him the star-speckled sky resembled a magician’s hat. The clouds parted, revealing the twin moons in all their fullness, like giant silver coins, and the light from the moons cast an eerie, silver glow over everything. The majesty of the moment made Albin feel small and insignificant in the world but it also made him feel more alive than ever before.

  “It is certainly a sight to behold,” said a deep voice behind him and Albin wheeled around, startled. He bristled when he saw Pelleus approaching the r
ail, walking with the help of a cane. “I remember it so well. I would willingly give everything I own to see the night sky again.”

  Albin hung his head, remembering the man’s blindness, and he experienced a pang of regret for his earlier attitude towards him.

  “No need to pity me, boy!” growled the voice, not unkindly. “These eyes of mine have seen their fair share of magnificence. They’ve seen their fair share of misery too. Sometimes blindness is a blessing- not a curse.”

  “You sound like someone I know,” Albin admitted, recalling Felis when he talked about the longer lives of elves.

  “Ah, the fighter. Minkle told me you were close. I’m sure you will meet again.”

  “You expect me to believe you can talk to a bear?”

  “He isn’t a bear, Albin. Minkle is a Reader- a very rare and clever creature.” Pelleus tapped his right leg and Minkle came running. The old man lay down his cane and held out his arms for him to jump into. Minkle smiled as the old man held him close and scratched behind his ears. “Readers can- as their name suggests- read people’s minds. And, when Readers find someone with magic, they can talk to them without words.”

  “You’re a magician?” Albin was surprised.

  Pelleus nodded. “Yes but let’s not dwell on that now. You must learn about your Reader for time is short and I must be on my way.”

  “On your way where?” Albin wanted to know but the old man shrugged his question aside.

  “Readers must choose one master with whom to live and work. Sometimes they spend their whole lives looking for the right match without ever finding it. Minkle was lucky- he found you while he was still young himself. It means you get the chance to grow together.”

  “You’re not making any sense,” Albin said quietly, shivering in the night wind. The short sleeves of his night shirt offered little protection to his arms. He had not expected to be out for long and he wanted to return to his warm bed.

  “If I’m not making any sense it’s because you are not listening carefully enough,” the old man admonished him gently and Minkle nodded in agreement. Pelleus removed the woollen shawl from his shoulders. “Take this- I have never minded the cold and we have much to discuss.”

  “Thanks,” Albin said gratefully, putting it on. The shawl smelled of wood-smoke and apples. It was a strange combination.

  “Readers are naturally attracted to people with great power and a strong will to do good in the world. That’s why he’s splitting his time between the two of us. He stays with you in the day and he seeks me out at night.”

  “You can’t take him away from me!” Albin said, flustered. Minkle had been in his life for three whole years and he could not imagine a time when the two of them would be parted.

  “That’s not my intention,” Pelleus reassured him in a calm, placating voice. “Minkle has already chosen you to be his master and, for what it’s worth, I can see he has chosen well.”

  “But I don’t have magic. I’m just a boy.”

  Pelleus smiled at him patiently. “That’s where you’re wrong, Albin. Your magic is young and untested but the Reader says you’re ready to receive your tools and learn your trade. That’s why he’s been coming to see me. He knows I can help you.”

  Albin ran a shaky hand through his hair and took a deep breath to steady himself. The night had a dreamlike quality to it and he wondered if he would be waking up in his cabin bed any time soon.

  “Minkle says you’re not sleeping and this is not a dream,” Pelleus rasped.

  Albin took a cautious step forward and when he looked closely at his pet, he realised for the first time, that there was great intelligence behind those deep, brown eyes. He had always known that Minkle was different to other animals but he had never imagined how rare and special he truly was.

  Pelleus continued, “Minkle wants you to know that you have a true heart and powerful magic in your veins. He is ready to help you understand it and use it.”

  “Are you sure?” Albin asked timidly, looking from Pelleus to his pet and back again.

  Minkle nodded and Pelleus put him down gently on the deck. “Now that you know exactly what he is and what he can do, you should be able to talk to him yourself.”

  “How?”

  “Just believe that you can and you will!”

  Albin bit his lower lip as a worrying thought occurred to him. “Has Minkle told you about my friends?”

  “Yes I know all about your companions- Talia and Arius- and where you’re bound. It’s a noble quest and it is so nearly at an end. Your friends in the desert, however, have more trouble coming their way.”

  “You see the future?”

  Pelleus shook his head. “Life can travel many paths of possibility but some are more likely than others. I sense dark magic but it is distant and you are not its target. Follow me and I will show you the things you need to help your friends.”

  Albin was overwhelmed and almost refused to go. Then Minkle looked at him with such intensity and hope that he had to give in. He picked up the old man’s cane, handed it over and followed Pelleus, with some trepidation, to his usual place at the rear of the ship.

  Albin sat patiently while the old man shuffled around inside his pile of rags. In the absence of sight, his hands had to do the looking and they were not particularly fast.

  At last, he brought out a hessian sack. Shivers travelled the length of the young boy’s spine and Minkle, sensing his master’s unease, sat in his lap. Albin stroked his fur absentmindedly and it had a calming effect.

  “This is my first gift to you,” Pelleus declared, handing over an oval piece of glass in a gilt frame.

  “A mirror?”

  “A spy glass. Think of your friends… picture their faces and take a look.”

  Albin watched as the surface of the mirror started to shimmer and a hazy picture formed in the centre. As the image cleared and came into focus, he saw it was not his reflection, as he had expected. Instead, it was a desert scene and four mounds were motionless inside their bedrolls.

  “Do you see them?” Pelleus asked and Albin answered in the affirmative. “Good. You can use it to keep a close eye on them, whenever you want.”

  “It’s amazing,” Albin breathed, genuinely impressed. “Can anyone use it?”

  “No. Only those with magic. That fact that you see anything in the glass is proof enough of your powers.”

  Albin gulped and took another look at the desert scene. At least his friends were safe and resting- for now.

  Pelleus cast his hand over the mirror and the image disappeared. “You can see other places too if it pleases you- as long as you have a friend or relative there. Try another.”

  Albin closed his eyes and conjured up an image of home. He missed his parents and felt bad that he had not given them much thought lately. When he opened his eyes, he saw the outline of his mother, moving around the small front room of their cottage. She had always been a night owl, preferring the solace of the small hours to the hustle and bustle of the day. The twin moons were shining through her window and he felt a pang of homesickness as he looked upon the familiar ornaments and wooden furniture of his childhood.

  Albin watched his mother bring out a feather duster and run it over the books on the shelf. He smiled. It was just like her to do the housework while everyone else was sleeping. Then her arm dropped and the duster fell from her grip. She looked up and said, “Who’s there?”

  Albin was worried there might be an intruder in the house but he could not see anyone except his mother in the glass. His eyes hastily scanned every inch before he was satisfied she was alone.

  “Interesting,” Pelleus murmured, beside him. “She feels you watching her. You inherited your powers from your mother, it seems.”

  “Good night, mother,” Albin said, stroking the glass tenderly and he watched her smile before the image faded.

  “Next,” Pelleus said and Albin watched in fascination as he pulled a long sword from the sack. Then his fascination turn
ed to horror as he took in the ancient scrolling details and the carved eye set in the pommel. It was the sword that had changed into a serpent in the forest.

  Minkle jumped aside as the young boy scrambled to his feet and backed away from the sword. “I don’t want it,” he said resolutely, shaking his head.

  “But it’s yours,” the old man said simply.

  “No. I’ve seen what it can do. I don’t want it anywhere near me.”

  “And what exactly did it do?”

  Albin hastily recounted the fight in the forest and how the sword had transformed. He shuddered as he got to the part about the man’s head exploding but the old man was unaffected. “Sounds like the sword saved your life,” he said, thrusting it towards the boy again.

  “But it’s magic.”

  “Both gifts are magic, Albin, and you will need them both if you’re going to help your friends. This sword is destined for you. It has been trying to find you for a long time. Look at the blade.”

  Albin did as he was told and the air stuck in his throat when he noticed words engraved in the metal. “What does it say?” the old man prompted.

  “That’s impossible! It says ‘Albin the Great’. I may be Albin, but I’m definitely not great. This sword’s not meant for me.”

  “You will be and it is,” the old man insisted. “Now where did Minkle go?”

  Albin looked around at the empty deck, still bathed in a pale, silver light. He thought he saw a furry bobble-tail twitching beside an oak barrel in the distance.

  “It’s alright- he hasn’t gone far,” Albin said, turning back and then he gasped. Pelleus and his rags had vanished. Only the sword and the spy glass remained, lying discarded on the deck. “Impossible!” he blurted again, his eyes darting wildly from side to side and finding nothing.

  He heard a gravelly chuckle and then a small voice inside his ear whispered, “Nothing is truly impossible, Albin. Take your gifts and become the person you are meant to be.”

  By the end of the week, the initial awe and wonder of the desert had worn off and Borin was tired of the landscape. “If I never see another grain of sand, it will be too soon,” he remarked.

 

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