The Girl from the North (Pathway of the Chosen Book 1)

by Cat Bruno

  *****

  Bronwen followed Kennet past the gates that separated the Healer’s Academy from the rest of the town and down the gravel path toward the library. The building that housed one of the oldest collections of books in all of Cordisia was an imposing one, taller than all the other buildings on campus, towering above the classrooms that surrounded it. The library was constructed of stone and glass, and the first three floors were solid stone, dotted with small windows that allowed only small amounts of light to enter without damaging the books. The upper floors were composed of large glass windows that reached from floor to ceiling. These were the reading rooms, areas that consisted of large tables, chairs, and mage-lights, used after the sun had set.

  The two healers entered the massive double doors of the library and headed for the stairs, climbing in silence, which was usual for the atmosphere but unusual for the healers themselves. Bronwen followed Kennet to his office on the fourth floor, a small room overrun with books and manuscripts. Tucked in a far corner of the library, Kennet had spent many nights in the messy space, and Bronwen joined him often, for both his companionship and his knowledge. There was little that Kennet did not know himself or know how to find.

  After the door was closed and the two friends were seated, Bronwen spoke.

  “I need your help, but I need your silence as well. Will you promise me that what I am about to tell you will only be between the two of us?”

  Kennet fiddled with the papers on his desk as Bronwen talked, yet he looked directly at her as her words reached him, interested and surprised at her request.

  Unsure of what she needed, he simply nodded.

  Bronwen smiled and said, “I’m impressed at your restraint,” knowing how difficult it was for her friend to listen without speaking.

  “Did you know that I have been named Master Apprentice?”

  “Bronwen, congratulations! That is remarkable! I didn’t think it was possible for a Northerner to ever be given the title. Not that you don’t deserve it, of course, but there were rumblings by the other students, and from Pietro, of course.”

  He would have continued, but Bronwen interrupted, “Oh, for the love of light, how do I even begin?”

  The copper-haired healer ran her fingers through her hair, rubbed her forehead with two fingers, and inhaled deeply. She closed her eyes, exhaled, and began.

  “Oh, what have I gotten myself into Kenny? I just need some information. Some guidance. I need some answers for questions I never thought I would ask.”

  After a lengthy pause, Bronwen added, “Oh, Kenny, what can you tell me about the Tribe?”

  This time Kennet stumbled out of his chair, stretched out his lanky frame, and paced around the small, cluttered room. As he walked back and forth, he mumbled. After knocking over several piles of paper, Kennet stopped with his back toward Bronwen.

  Without looking up or turning around, he called out to her, “Bronwen, follow me.”

  He headed to the door, opened it, and walked toward a back staircase, one that Bronwen had never even noticed, and she hurried to keep up with him. As he started descending, he heard Bronwen’s footfalls behind him. For a moment, Kennet regretted her presence and wondered what had made him so quickly decide to help her.

  He was afraid. Afraid of her questions, afraid of the answers, afraid to be involved. Yet, it seemed as if he had little choice. Kennet knew, with a certainty that surprised him, why he had found the room and for whom it was meant. He just knew.

  4

  When Kennet and Bronwen finally stopped, they were in an area that Bronwen didn’t recognize. The floor they were on was neither glass nor stone, Bronwen realized, and was composed of brown and red bricks. It was cool here too, although not damp as Bronwen would have expected. She shivered, tucked her hands into the pockets of her robe, and waited as Kennet scanned the dark hallway. She hadn’t spoken to him since she mentioned the Tribe and had only followed when he had told her to do so.

  After a few moments, he gestured toward Bronwen, calling her toward him.

  “Bronwen, do you know where we are?” Kennet asked.

  Startled by his voice as it echoed through the chambers after so much silence, Bronwen hesitated for a moment before replying, “No. I have never been this far below. I never knew these rooms existed. Are we beneath the library?”

  “Yes, we are. Very few people, Master Healers included, know of these rooms. I only discovered them myself in the last moon year. But here is where you will find your answers. Although, you need to be certain that this is what you want. What you seek is dangerous, and Master Healer Rova would not approve of you even being here, especially now that you are his apprentice. Think hard, Bronwen.”

  Bronwen listened quietly, knowing that Kennet spoke the truth. She had realized that he would be very reluctant to discuss the Tribe. Very few people outside of Eirrannia were comfortable talking about the Dark ones. His words were expected, but the sudden seriousness in Kennet’s usually lighthearted voice shook her, and snapped her out of the daze she had been in since they had started their descent.

  “Kenny, I didn’t choose this, and, truly, I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what I have done, and I certainly don’t know what to do next.”

  About to continue, Bronwen suddenly realized that Kennet hadn’t heard what she had said. He had started banging the side of his fist on part of the brick wall, and, as she watched, she realized that his hands were moving in a circular pattern.

  Before she could question him, a loud scraping noise silenced her, and she closed her mouth. Kennet jumped back, although he did not seem surprised, as the bricks where his hands had just been shifted. A door appeared, similar to all the other doors in the library, which surprised Bronwen.

  Kennet shrugged his shoulders, adding, “Follow me.”

  Uncertain that she had any other option, Bronwen followed Kennet as he opened the hidden door, and walked behind him, entering into darkness. The room was without light and without windows. Bronwen couldn’t see anything, but the room felt warmer than the outer rooms. She heard Kennet fumbling around and looked across the room to where he stood, watching intently. He was blowing on the palm of his hand with the same concentration he usually reserved for his books.

  After a brief moment, a small flicker of light, mage-light, emerged from the center of his hand. It grew until the entire room was awash with light. Bronwen wanted to look around and explore the mysterious room, but she could not take her eyes off of Kennet. She watched as he placed the glowing orb onto a metal plate and set it on an old, wooden desk in the corner of the room, which glowed in the bright mage-light.

  Bronwen could no longer hold her tongue, “Kenny, what the hell was that? You’re a mage now?”

  Kennet closed the door that Bronwen had left open and looked at her with a deep frown covering most of his long face.

  “I have a few skills, none very impressive, but they do come in handy sometimes. It seems that I know a great deal in theory, but very rarely does it work in practice. Remember me telling you that my father was a mage? I was a great disappointment to him, as I never made it beyond the early stages of training. So I was shipped off to my grandparents’ house in northern Ageria. After a few years of living with them, it was evident that farming wasn’t in my future either, so they brought me to the Healer’s Academy, where I have been ever since. You knew most of that, though, even if I kept some of my skills to myself. Is this room private enough for you?”

  Bronwen was slightly taken about by the last few minutes and wasn’t ready to discuss her past, not yet.

  “Kenny why didn’t you ever tell me you had mage-skill? Does your father know? Has he ever visited you here?”

  “Of course he has never visited me here. Why would he? I am only a healer, and not even a true healer at that.”

  “Kenny, you are part mage and part healer. Few can claim that. And now you lead me to these rooms? Kennet, I don’t even know what is happening anymore. Nothing see
ms as it had been when the sun rose yesterday.”

  Bronwen walked across the room, stopping at the large wooden desk to better view the orb of bright light that Kennet had created.

  “Nice work, Kenny.”

  He laughed before responding, “So, Bronwen, when do we start talking about what you’re seeking?”

  Bronwen took a deep breath, turned around, and faced Kennet.

  She began with the simplest part first, “Well, obviously I am a Northerner, which you know of course. And you know that I have never remembered anything about my childhood, nor could I remember how I came to arrive outside the Tretorian gates.”

  “Yesterday, I remembered.”

  Kennet adjusted his glasses, and Bronwen noticed the furrows in his forehead and his shoulders tighten. But she needed to continue.

  “If he is to be believed, I was seriously injured when he found me alone and wandering the roads outside of Planusterra. How he found me is still a mystery. But he brought me to a healer, tended to my needs, and traveled with me for a while. I still don’t remember much else. I don’t know where I came from originally or who my parents are or what happened to them. He stayed with me for weeks as I recovered, but we always kept moving, never staying in one place for long. I didn’t know who he was, but I was never frightened or worried. I felt safe. I remember that much.”

  “I can’t recall exactly how long I was with him that first time. Eventually, he felt that I was no longer safe with him. He considered taking me back North, but was afraid that my parents had been running from something or someone there. Why else would I be away from home, near death, and alone? With parents who were most likely dead as well? I would have loved to have stayed with him, but I did not understand how impossible that scenario was. I still hadn’t regained much of my memory, and I was suffering from fainting spells. The healer had told him that I should be brought to the Academy for help. So that is where we headed. Outside the gates of Tretoria, he told me his plan. I was heartbroken. I knew nothing of my past. Only how this man had saved me and sheltered me when I needed it most. I did not want to come here. I can remember that much.”

  Pausing to catch her breath, Bronwen then continued, “He was concerned about what would happen to me when I was found, as I was old enough to be a street child or thief. So he roughed me up, thinking an injured child would garner greater sympathy and care. He didn’t hurt me, not really, just opened up my previous wound.”

  “And then he mind-locked me. And left. Just left me right there. Alone again. Bloody, just like when he found me, and with no memory. It was as if the last moon had never happened.”

  Kennet stood, stunned, and listened as Bronwen talked in a monotone, emotionless voice. She retold the story as if she had never forgotten it. But he believed her. Believed that she had only recently remembered those traumatic days. Without much more emotion, Bronwen went on, “You know what happened next, how I was found by the scouts, brought to Litusia, tended by Rova, then given to Sheva. That is all I knew too for the longest time. But now I remember it all; he allowed me to remember it all. And I don’t know why.”

  A silent Kennet stared at Bronwen as she paused; she looked down, and he noticed, not for the first time, how beautiful she was. The glowing light shimmered around her, reflecting the paleness of her skin and the brightness of her coppery hair. Bronwen continued staring at the floor, hiding her eyes. Kennet did not need to see her face. He knew from the way her shoulders were now shaking that tears filled her Northern-hued eyes.

  He had known Bronwen for years, considered her his closest friend, yet he had never seen her cry. She was often frustrated and angry, never liking to be wrong, but never like this. When she would come to his room or his office fuming over a missed diagnosis or a difficult day of classes, Kennet would often make her laugh and distract her from her troubles.

  “Bronwen, did he hurt you? Has he threatened you?” asked Kennet in a slow, steady voice.

  Bronwen shook her head and mumbled, “No. He has never threatened me. Up until tonight, he had never hurt me. Even tonight, he could have done a lot worse, but he stopped himself.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know anything. I don’t know why he has continued to follow me when he could have just been gone forever.”

  “You’re making little sense, Bronwen. What do you mean that he followed you? Yesterday was not the first time that he has found you? Do you know his name or what Tribe he is from?” Bronwen lifted her head, wiped at her face with the back of her hand, and sat down, hard, on the stone floor, leaning her back against the wall. Kennet watched as she settled herself with a few deep breaths, watched and waited for her to answer. When she did, he felt numb.

  “His name is Conri. Do you know anything about him? Have you heard the name before?”

  Kennet’s mouth hung open, the words stuck in his throat. No, he thought, Bronwen misspoke. It was impossible that she had encountered the High Chief of the Wolf Clan and survived. It was impossible that the Chief of the Wolf Clan had saved Bronwen as a child. That is not what Tribesmen did. None of what was known about them would have explained what she was saying.

  “Bronwen, could you be mistaken about his name? Their names are often very similar in sound, especially when spoken in human languages.”

  Bronwen replied, “It is Conri. As a child, I knew him to be different than other men, but he was gentle, and I do not recall ever being afraid of him. As I grew older, after I was here at the Academy, and watched him enter and exit my life in near invisibility, I began to wonder whom he really was. Still, I was never afraid of him, which may sound odd to you. After I had known him for a few years, I asked him who he was. And he told me the truth. It was that simple. Although I can hardly believe it all now. But of course, he had nothing to worry about, as he mind-locked me after each meeting we had.”

  Kennet was quickly recovering his wits, even though he would never be totally at ease with the notion that Bronwen had developed a close relationship with one of the most powerful Tribesmen in Cordisia. Slowly, he tried to sort out what Bronwen was telling him.

  “You have known him for many moon years, but after each meeting, he would mind-lock you. Except tonight. How many times have you met with him? Do you ever seek him out, or is he always finding you? Has he ever asked anything of you? Do you owe him something?”

  Bronwen appreciated Kennet more so now than ever. He always knew how to take a step back from a problem and try to figure it out from a new perspective. He would make an excellent instructor someday, she thought. Her future, on the other hand, was beginning to be less certain than it had been earlier in the day, it seemed.

  “Kenny, I will try my best to explain. I can’t say for certain how many times we have met. I have known him for many moon years now, and he usually came around a few times per year in the beginning. But these last few moon years, I have seen him less. This last moon year I had not seen him at all until tonight. I have never gone to him, and, to be honest, I do not even know how or where I would find him. And to answer your other question, no, he has never asked anything of me. In the beginning, I think he just wanted to check up on me, as strange as that may seem.”

  “Why do you remember all this now? Something must have changed.”

  Bronwen agreed, “Tonight’s encounter was certainly unlike any other time we have met. He was different and mentioned that I was no longer a child. Actually, the last few meetings have been more strained. I have felt that he wanted something from me, and I argued with him repeatedly about it. But he has refused to tell me.”

  Kennet groaned before muttering, “Are you telling me that you have argued with a high-ranking Tribe member and suffered no lasting harm from doing so? Bee, that cannot be what you are telling me.”

  Bronwen laughed, which seemed out of place as it echoed off the stone walls. “Kenny, I often argued with Conri. Even as a child I would complain or voice my displeasure with him. I think h
e grew used to me. But I could tell something was different during these last few visits. And now that I have my memory back, and more thoughts are coming to light as I talk to you, I know now that he was not the same.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When he would visit me as a child, it was very easy. We would talk, he would make sure I was fine, ask if I needed anything, and be gone. Promising to be back again soon. That continued for moon years. He even supported me starting the Academy. He never tried to get me to leave Tretoria nor did he ask anything of me.”

  Suddenly, the mage-light flared and Kennet edged closer to where Bronwen sat on the floor.

  Kneeling down, he said, “Bronwen, you have entered your twenty-first year. Do you know what that signifies to the Tribe?”

  “Kenny, what are you trying to imply? I have been a woman for many years if that is where you are heading.”

  “I’m sorry, Bronwen. This is important or I would not have mentioned it. You may know Conri, but I know the Tribe. Well, I have never actually met a Tribesman, true, but I have read all there is to read concerning them. I will tell you what your age has to do with it. Until this last year, the High Master of the Wolf Clan saw you as a child. You have since reached the age of adulthood, and all that entails. Conri is not blind, Bronwen. He is Tribe.”

  “What exactly do you mean? Of course he is Tribe. I am fully aware of that fact.”

  “Bee, what are you keeping from me? If I am to help you, then I need to know everything. Everything. I have spent the last moon year reading and uncovering manuscripts in these rooms. I know more about the Tribe than most. Does it not seem odd to you that it was I who found this room? Let me help you. If you want help, that is.”

  “Of course I want help, Kenny. This is not easy to talk about. I think I made a very big mistake tonight. And I do need your help.”

  Bronwen held up a hand to stop Kennet from interrupting. She wasn’t completely surprised that Kennet had spent the last moon year researching the Tribe. Many times she had stopped by both his office and his room at the dormitory and had found him absent. Occasionally, she wondered if he had met someone or if he was spending his free time with a fellow student or townswoman.