by AJ Searle
“No. That was my imagination getting away from me. I keep her room locked but she has been dead for many years. I never go in that room.” He ran a hand over his face. He looked up when she touched his arm.
“She haunts you.” Fiona nodded as if she understood. “That’s why she was there in your magic. My grandmother haunts me as well. I hear her sometimes when I shed.”
“Shed?” It was Ronan’s turn to stare.
Fiona nodded. “Part of being a Serpentine. I shed my skin much the same way a snake does.”
Ronan’s brow furrowed. “Is it painful?”
She nodded. “Very.”
“Do you have to shed now?” Ronan asked curiously but she shook her head.
“No. I shed before I arrived at Fullerk. I’m good for several months.” Fiona’s hand still rested on his arm.
Ronan blinked. “I just noticed something.”
“I have a mole.” She lifted a hand to the small beauty mark on the underside of her chin and Ronan grinned.
“No, I noticed that in Fullerk. Very cute.” He smiled when she flushed slightly. “No, I can see you.”
She giggled. “I can see you too.”
“But you are Serpentine. You are supposed to be able to see in the dark,” Ronan argued.
She stared at him blankly.
“I can see you as clearly as I could this morning. I wonder…”
“You don’t think that by…the Johran ritual allowed you to take on some of my changeling characteristics?”
“Perhaps. How else would I be able to see as I do? I pray I won’t have to do that shedding bit.” Ronan cocked his head to the side. “What is something else that you can do that others cannot?”
“My sense of smell is more acute,” Fiona offered. “Do you smell anything?”
“No.” Ronan shook his head.
“Stick out your tongue.” Fiona instructed.
Ronan laughed, shaking his head. “You can’t be serious.”
“It is how I can smell danger.” Her tongue whipped out, flicked, and then disappeared again.
Feeling very much like an idiot Ronan stuck out his tongue. It didn’t turn into a snake tongue but he did suddenly feel very aware of his environment.
“That dragon called Montecu is near,” Ronan said after a moment. “He’s watching us.”
“Yes, I sense him too.” Fiona nodded, her eyes suddenly glittering. “Remarkable. So if you bit Ula Baen, you might be able to gain some of her magic.”
Ronan chuckled at the devilment in Fiona’s eyes. “She would cut out my tongue if I tried to bite her.” Ronan looked around them, smiling at the night world of the moors. “This is an interesting change.” He stuck out his tongue again and after a moment Fiona giggled at him. “I look ridiculous, don’t I?” Ronan grinned.
“No…well perhaps a bit.” She giggled again. “At least it has lightened your mood. A few moments ago it would not have surprised me if you had bit Ula with the way that you were barking at her.”
“This wizard business frustrates me,” Ronan said, his eyes catching the glint of silver in the distance. So that’s where that dragon was. He lifted a hand and waved, chuckling when the dragon lifted his head and stared at him before turning to retreat farther away.
“In her defense, she was only trying to help.” Fiona brought his gaze back to her.
“I know,” Ronan groaned. “But she knows I’m not really angry with her. I do not need to explain myself to her.”
“I’ve noticed,” Fiona murmured looking away from him.
“What’s this?” He reached forward to catch her chin so he could turn her face back toward him. “You are jealous?”
“I’m not the only one.” Fiona lifted her chin then jerked her head back toward the campsite. “Everyone notices the bond you have with her. Arien is constantly in competition for your attention.”
“Is he? I hadn’t noticed.” Ronan smiled. “And you? Are you in competition for my attention?”
Fiona met his gaze then shrugged. “Perhaps a bit.”
“What kind of attention?” Ronan pressed.
“Whatever you can spare, I imagine.” She shrugged again, appearing a bit embarrassed.
“Ah, I’m sorry Fiona. So that I know the next time, what do you do to win my attention?” Ronan asked softly and then blinked when she lifted her hand, revealing the two small nubs that were growing into new fingers. He tried not to smile and failed considerably, then gave in and laughed.
“Perhaps I’m a bit daft,” he admitted.
“Just a bit,” she retorted.
“I’ll try to do better. Spread my attention equally among the six of you,” Ronan vowed and Fiona smiled as she let her hand drop back to his arm. “I’ll not have my band of odd companions feel neglected.”
“Odd?” Fiona echoed and Ronan laughed again.
“A serpentine, sorceress, thief changeling, centaur, and sarcastic rancher isn’t exactly what I would immediately think of when hearing that a group was carrying The King’s Sword to Merisgale.” Ronan grinned.
“Don’t forget the stone wizard cannibal,” she said pointedly. “Claiming only to be a blacksmith the entire way.”
“I am a blacksmith. A very good one,” Ronan defended himself. “The rest is a bit harder to digest.”
“Than what? My fingers?” She raised a brow. “It is a wonderful thing to be a wizard. I don’t understand why it frightens you so much.”
“It’s the magic,” Ronan said after a moment. “When I was very young my father said that anything magic was evil. My mother and I never told him of the gifts we discovered I had. We kept it a secret and I never practiced any kind of magic in the house.”
“Oh, Ronan,” Fiona breathed.
“I had a friend, a changeling, that my father forbade me to see. He caught us fishing one morning when I was twelve. He beat us both and sent my friend home. Egle never spoke to me again.” Ronan closed his eyes. “My mother told me that he would be dangerous if he ever found out that I was a wizard. She made me swear never to use my magic again. Though I did perform little tricks as a teenager I never did anything that looked like I was using more than a magician’s illusion.”
Fiona said nothing but kept her hand on his arm.
“I let her die. She would not let me use my magic to even save her life. She starved to death after my father died. We had no one to provide for us and I wasn’t a very good blacksmith at seventeen.” Ronan swallowed loudly past the lump in his throat as he recalled his mother’s death. “She died in that room. Just withered away.”
“Ronan,” Fiona’s whisper was filled with compassion as she leaned forward and embraced him. She held him gently and for a moment he resisted her comfort. But slowly he relaxed and lowered his head to her shoulder. He allowed her to console him. No one had ever done so before. When his mother died he was left alone with no one to let him speak his misery. He’d swallowed it and buried himself in his work, vowing to become the best blacksmith possible.
“The River Blanch opened that wound. Ula held my hand when it did. Something happened that day between she and I. There was an understanding between us. Somehow she knew my pain and although I can’t recall having seen what the river showed her, I know hers.” Ronan spoke against her shoulder, tears stinging his eyes. “That is why we have such a bond.” He prayed desperately that Ula was not the one who betrayed him.
“She is doing what she does best.” Fiona’s voice was filled with realization. “She is healing you.” Ronan lifted his face and stared at Fiona.
“Little by little, I suppose she is,” he said feeling suddenly free. “And so have you. By just letting me put the pain into words.”
“Not just words,” Fiona corrected, stoking the hair of his head. “We joined, Ronan. You defied your father’s wishes and did not have to face his wrath.”
Ronan blinked. He hadn’t even considered that. Lowering his head to her shoulder again, he sighed.
Perhaps, he cou
ld be a blacksmith and a wizard.
Fourteen
Making the Johran huts disappear proved a much more difficult task than manifesting them. After several attempts, Ronan’s frustration showed itself in his magic, leaving the three small huts in shambles. He frowned at the mounds of earth, wood, and dry grass.
“I know!” Arien snapped his fingers. “Maybe you could make the ground just swallow up the huts now!” Ronan clamped his mouth closed to keep from snapping at the boy. He was only trying to help. Mikel the Hort rolled his eyes and shook his head.
“No, that would require a hole that he might not be able to fill.” Mikel stepped forward, eyeing the mounds thoughtfully. “We must think positive magic, not negative.”
“He must learn to do it anyway,” Ula argued. “I mean he can’t go around performing magic without cleaning up behind himself.” She looked at the changeling when he shook his head.
“You encouraged him to do something large like this. Now we are set back hours when we should have left at dawn.” Mikel the Hort dismissed her from his gaze. “He should start smaller and then work his way to something so large as he masters the magic.”
Ronan nodded in agreement with the changeling.
“He made the cottage disappear and it was much bigger than these huts,” Arien defended Ula loyally.
“Not by will. It was an emotional outburst that caused him to take away the cottage. Nothing that he consciously willed,” Mikel said and Ronan nodded, not liking the way they were talking about him as if he were not even there.
“Well, we can’t just leave it here.” Ula pressed her lips together. Mikel the Hort stepped closer to the mounds, eyes sweeping over them thoughtfully. Ronan could almost see the little wheels in his head turning.
“Send the dirt back to Johran in the form of huts. Set them on the outer parts of the village with a note to Yarro saying the huts belong to you for you to use as you need to.” Mikel glanced up at Ronan, “That way you can summon them to you when we stop for camp again.”
“That is an excellent plan,” Ula agreed nodding. “And doesn’t require vanishing them to thin air.”
“But how will I know if I send them to the right place?” Ronan wasn’t so sure.
Mikel spoke again, “Ask that Yarro mark the note once he’s read it. Then, when you summon the huts again and if he’s made his mark, you can practice your negative magic on making the letter disappear. And without creating so much of a mess.”
Ronan stared down at the little changeling. “You are a clever little thief.” Mikel beamed and nodded in agreement.
Ronan closed his eyes and conjured a picture of the Johran village in his mind. He willed the huts back together and set them just outside the village by imagining them there. With an invisible hand on a piece of paper he left a short note to Yarro on the door of the middle hut.
Taking a breath, he opened his eyes and found that the mounds of dirt were gone. “I pray it worked.”
“If it did not, when you summon the huts back to you, you will receive mounds of dirt with a silly note on top. No loss.” Mikel shrugged.
“No loss but a bit humiliating.” Ronan glanced around at the others. “Can we get going now?” He swung atop Sorcha’s back and kicked his horse forward without waiting for the others.
A gust of wind nearly blew Ronan from the horse’s back and he looked up to find the Dragon landing alongside him. “You are an impatient little wizard,” The dragon said as his pace slowed so that he was walking alongside at an even height. “I’ve been watching you and I wonder does Yarro know it was an amateur wizard that joined his tribe and promised him a river.”
“I will find a way to keep my word,” Ronan said with irritation.
“Foul tempered today are we?” the dragon purred. “Man is an odd creature.”
Ronan’s frown deepened as he looked at the dragon. “What are you talking about? Man is complicated. We aren’t like wild curs.”
“I shall uncomplicated things for you,” Monty continued. “The horseman feels as if you do not appreciate him. The sorceress feels you are pushing her away when she only wants to do for and help you. The centaur keeps silent because he only wants peace but thinks you take too many risks. The boy continues to attempt to impress you but still you do not notice him. And your woman feels you keep your distance because you do not trust her.”
“That is not how I feel toward any of them,” Ronan murmured.
“Then why behave as if you do?” The dragon shook his head. “They make such effort to do what you wish, to please you. Can you not find it in your heart to give the same in return?”
Guilt washed through Ronan. “I did not want to be a wizard. It makes me angry.”
“None of us asked to be born as what we are. We all have things about us that we don’t like. We accept those things and learn to live our lives the best we can.” Monty quickened his pace, leaving Ronan behind to consider his words. Moments later he soared up into the sky.
Ronan sighed heavily. The dragon was right. He was acting selfishly. This journey to Merisgale was not just about him. It was about them all.
That evening he called them to stop early. Hesitantly he summoned the huts and was surprised when they appeared before him intact. Yarro’s mark indicated that the spell the changeling had suggested worked.
* * *
“Want me to ride ahead?” Keegan offered but Ronan shook his head. “I’d feel better if it were Arien. His young eyes can spot trouble better than either of ours.” Arien’s face immediately lit up and he kicked his horse forward.
“And I’d rather have you close by just in case something should happen to me,” Ronan added when the boy was far enough ahead. “You know the way to Merisgale.”
Keegan nodded and Ronan continued, “I know I rely on you greatly, Keegan Yore. I just think you should know that I appreciate your wisdom, your sword, and your horses. You’ve sacrificed a lot for this trip. Like me, you too lose business when you are away. I am thankful you are here though. I feel a bit safer because of it.” There. Ronan didn’t look at Keegan, a bit embarrassed of the words he’d said to the man and he could feel Keegan’s stare.
“What brought that on?” Keegan asked, chuckling lowly.
“That damned dragon. He pointed out how selfishly I’ve been behaving. And to my surprise and shame I realized he was right.” Ronan glanced at Keegan. “So I thought to tell you that I do appreciate your presence and that I understand it can be difficult for you when my mood is ill.”
“Like a woman.” Keegan grinned and Ronan smiled back at him before allowing his horse to fall back away from the horseman’s. He eased alongside Ula.
“Touching speech,” she murmured. “I suppose you appreciate me as well?” Her sarcasm made Ronan smile.
“Only the food you feed me,” he teased and her mouth slanted. “No, I wanted to apologize to you.”
“Apologize?” Ula’s face grew serious when she looked at him.
“For treating you so poorly. I do not know who the betrayer is and have treated each of you as if you were guilty. Especially you.” Ronan sighed, shaking his head. “But the truth is that I do not suspect you, Ula. I have prayed it isn’t you, unable to conceive that someone who had done so much for me would be the one to turn against me.”
Her black eyes watered but she did not shed any tears. “It is not me. My loyalty is to Merisgale and…to you.” He nodded and reached to touch her hand. His fingers closed over hers for a moment before he released her again. He watched her ride ahead with Keegan.
“You owe me nothing,” Bryan murmured.
Ronan smiled at the centaur and then the changeling on his back. “No?”
“We are not so silly as these others,” Mikel agreed.
The two were an odd pair but Ronan had noticed that they often chatted back and forth as they traveled, becoming some strange kind of friends. No doubt they had discussed Ronan’s behavior between themselves.
“I take many
risks to get this sword to Merisgale.” Ronan scratched at the short beard on his chin. “Risks I normally would not. But it is because many are relying on me to complete this mission successfully. I have never been on such an important journey. I cannot fail.” The centaur nodded, as if he suddenly understood Ronan’s drive.
“And no one is dead yet,” Fiona pointed out, riding along the other side of him. “Risks must be taken but you are always cautious of danger.”
“I try to be. And I’d rather make friends than enemies,” Ronan added.
“So you strike deals that obligate you to people?” The centaur raised a brow.
“It’s what I do. I’m a blacksmith, a businessman like Keegan. I make bargains with people everyday. I give them what they want and they give me what I want.” Ronan shrugged.
“You are also a wizard,” Bryan said. “A wizard should not have to bargain for what he wants.”
“No? You knew I was a wizard and still came after the sword.” Ronan smiled. “Threatened to kill me.”
“It was an empty threat,” Bryan admitted.
“Hmm. If I had known that I might not have struck you.” Ronan chuckled and glanced at Fiona. “This one was ready to kill you for it.”
“Yes, I know. Perhaps I take risks myself.” Bryan smiled.
“But for good reason.” Ronan blew out a breath. He’d done what he could to settle all their fears. His eyes lifted to find Monty flying overhead. The dragon inclined his head slightly before flying higher and disappearing from sight.
Now Ronan could focus his attention on other things. Like the fact that Robusk was missing. He’d had another dream in the hours he’d slept after he and Fiona had spent themselves. The wizard was frail and thinned and pleaded for him to hurry to Merisgale and save the land of Meris from Sleagan. He awakened at dawn, disturbed and troubled.
Monty dipped down again, then landed and kept pace alongside him. “You are scowling. Don’t you feel relieved now?” The dragon asked.