Spellkeeper

by Courtney Privett

  “I don't know anymore.” Shan leaned against her and picked up the egg. It was warm in his hand, almost hot. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

  “That copper dragon follows him everywhere, like a cat or dog. It's a pet, Shan. He won't admit it, but that's what it is. I think you need this.” She embraced him and kissed the back of his neck. “You're floating away and this might be the string that pulls you back to ground.”

  “Dear gods, you didn't just compare me to a kite, did you?” Shan asked with a wince. Kites were a childhood fear and an adult avoidance. He sometimes saw the younger Lightborn kids flying them from other balconies when he sat on his own, and he did everything he could to avoid looking at them. It was as irrational as Tessen's fears of sheep and bridges or Ragan's phobia of turtles.

  “Sorry, I wasn't thinking.” Marita's hand sought his and then pulled both hand and egg toward his chest. “Will you let me help you sleep again now? I'll wake you if the egg starts to hatch.”

  “Put me to sleep and never wake me at all,” Shan murmured as the green light surrounded him.

  16

  Tessen

  Tessen,

  I've been having trouble figuring out how to write this. I haven't written to you because there are things I'm having difficulty coming to terms with. I lost Lumin. It's been nearly three months. It still hurts, but I'm slowly learning how to wake up without him next to me. I feel so empty and I don't think that's something I can ever fix. Hold tight to Serida and be careful with her. I don't want you to ever feel like I do now.

  Marita is helping me keep my thoughts above ground. Sometimes I feel guilty for dragging her into my life, but I don't know if I'd still be here without her. She wants me to tell you that you'll be an uncle in the spring, about halfway between the equinox and the solstice. I know, I know, I didn't want to have kids. I'm okay with this, though. I'm finding that our little unknown future is helping me get through each day. Marita's guess is that it's a girl, so we'll see. I'd love to have a daughter. Or a son. Either is fine with me, as long as it's not a Spellkeeper. You should tell Mom and Dad. I'm sure they'll be excited to find out they're going to be grandparents.

  Take care. I love you all.

  Shan

  SHAN,

  I'm devastated about Lumin. I had a feeling something happened. Rather, Serida did and she relayed it to me. I don't know what to say other than I love you and I'm sorry. I wish I was with you to help you through this.

  Congratulations on the baby. I hope everything goes well. I think you'll be a great father, even if you are hesitant about becoming one. Your dad kind of squealed when I told him. Mom growled like an irritated cat and mumbled, “I'm only thirty-six,” but then she smiled. I think she only has a couple weeks left to go until she gives birth and she isn't sleeping well, so she's kind of grouchy.

  Wow, this was a mix of emotions. I'm so glad you have Marita and hopefully she can help you continue to find some sort of balance.

  Love you,

  Tessen

  T–

  How are you doing? I want to know about you.

  –S

  S–

  I'm fine. Everyone here is fine. It's kind of boring, really.

  –T

  “YOU NEED TO GET OUT of the water.”

  “No.”

  “Tessen, you've been sitting in this tub for hours and your fire has burned to ash. You're blue and shivering. Get out.” Rin's fingers combed through the thick curls on the back of Tessen's head. “Why do you keep doing this? Help me understand.”

  Tessen pulled his knees toward his chest and leaned forward to embrace them. Cold water sloshed against the cloth lining the wooden tub and splattered upon the floor. “I don't want to feel like that again.”

  “Like what, honey?”

  “Like everything but myself. Losing myself little by little and only feeling everyone else. Being an outsider in my own body, my own world, my own family. Water and dreams are the only places I feel connected to anything.” Tessen pushed his hands forward, throwing waves against the tub walls.

  Rin's fingers traveled from Tessen's hair to his shoulder. She let them linger for a moment, then retreated to drag a stool to the side of the tub. She continued to watch him as she sat down and rested her hands on her belly. “I don't know what to tell you. You can't spend the rest of your life in a bathtub because you're afraid of what you are.”

  Tessen shook his fingers through his hair, then pressed them against his forehead. She didn't know about the incident at the waterfall pond, and it would only worry her more if he told her. He had to trust that Hael and the Lightborns would keep their word and not tell anyone else what he did three nights earlier. “You're frustrated with me. You always have been.”

  “I'm not–”

  “You are.” Tessen's eyes snapped toward her. The tension written upon her face reached him as a sharp tug. “I've always felt it, Mom, but I never knew what it was until I recognized what I am. I know you didn't want me. I know you tried to give me away for adoption after my father disappeared. I know the only reason you raised me is because Grandma found me, brought me back home, and forced you to be my mother.”

  There. He said it. For the first time outside of a shared dream, he said aloud the words he'd accidentally overheard over two years prior, when Rin and Shan were lost in the caves and the rest of the family worried about what would become of him. His heart shattered along with hers as he spoke, and he immediately regretted it.

  Her hand flew to her mouth as her shoulders sank. Remorse. The prickling ice mingling with the water's chill was remorse. Sorrow fluttered through the air like an injured butterfly. He wasn't sure which of them it belonged to.

  “Mom . . . I'm sorry.”

  “That changed. I still regret how I felt about you and what I did. I'm so sorry.” Rin's fingers brushed his upper arm as she hung her arms over the edge of the tub. A sob shook her shoulders. “You were never supposed to know that. How did you find out?”

  “I heard Grandma talking to Aunt Nora about it. I'm not angry about it. I know you love me, but I've also always known I didn't really belong. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything about it. I didn't want to make you cry. I'm sorry.”

  Her head still downcast, Rin raised a hand to touch Tessen's chin. “You insist upon carrying burdens that don't belong to you. You've become your father. He was . . . he'd be heartbroken if he knew you inherited this from him.”

  “Inherited what, Mom?” Tessen shifted to the side so he could rest his head against hers.

  “He was an empath, too.” She grabbed his hand as he startled. “Unless he confided in Elsin, I think I was the only one he ever told, and he didn't have the education to give a name to it. It's why we ended up together and why you were conceived. He felt my pain like it was his own and he tried to relieve it. He knew that I didn't love him like he loved me, knew that I didn't want you as much as he did, and it devastated him. He tried so hard to change the things he couldn't control, and now I think that's why he committed the crimes that ended up killing him. This gift you have hurts, and it will always hurt. I don't want you to hurt, and I don't want to lose you. I'm afraid I will if you can't figure out how to live with this.”

  “My dad was an empath?” Tessen whispered.

  Rin nodded. “I have no doubt that he was. He carried around a lot of pain that didn't belong to him. He told me he wanted to raise Shan as his own son because he didn't want him to feel abandoned. Rohir had more than his share of faults and flaws, but he had a good heart and everything he did was an attempt to ease the pain of the people he cared about. I think . . . I think it was something that ran in his family. His mother also seemed to be an empath.”

  “Lim family curse, along with early deaths. One is probably related to the other. I think you just convinced me never to have children.”

  “Don't do this to yourself.” Rin's fingers were in his hair again and her lips landed warm on his temple. “I want you to
be happy. I want you to figure out what makes you happy, because I think this joyless numb you're feeling is why you feel so lost. You have nothing to balance upon and you're falling. Let us help you, honey. You have friends and family here who want to help you. Especially me.”

  “I don't know if I can be helped. It keeps getting worse. The water helps, but only if I stay in it. I feel everything again when I get out. Serida is trying so hard, but she and I both know that the reason it's gotten completely out of control is because of the dragonbind. I didn't even notice it before she hatched, but now it's smothering me and the only way I can think of to escape it is just to take her out into the wild and spend the rest of my life alone with her.”

  At the mention of her name, Serida popped her head over the side of the barrel tub. She nuzzled Tessen's ear, but he couldn't muster the energy to return her affection.

  Rin sighed and shook her head. “You can't do that. Please don't even consider it.”

  “Why?” Tessen asked.

  “Because I don't want to lose you.”

  “I don't think you ever had me. Who am I? I don't think I'm even a person, only a collection of other people's emotions. When I look past that, there is nothing. I go to the water and hope to find myself, but all I find is a hollow. At least it's a calm and quiet hollow. At least there I don't have to feel a Varaku's grief and an elf's rage and an Uldru's consuming uncertainty.”

  “Get out of the water. Now.” Rin's voice was high-pitched, almost panicked. “Now. Stand up.”

  “Gr-raah!” Serida nipped at Tessen's elbow. He was cold, so cold, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to be warm again. Do as she says.

  His limbs shaking uncontrollably, he grasped the edges of the tub and rose to a crouch. Rin tossed a towel over his shoulders as he stood, then offered him a robe as he dragged his numb legs over the side and stepped onto the floor. She pressed a hand against his heart, then caught him as his knees gave way.

  “You're hypothermic. You're slurring your words and your heart's too slow. Good gods, Tessen, you can't keep doing this.” Rin embraced him and kissed his face. Her skin seared like a brand against his. “We need to get you warmed up.”

  He closed his eyes and inhaled the pine scent of her hair. “Your heart is too fast. You're scared and it confuses them.”

  “Them, who?” Rin asked. She released her grasp and gently led him toward the hearth. He had placed the wooden bathtub in the largest room of his house, but the room was still small enough that it was only a few long strides from one side to the other. She eased him onto the settee, pulled up an upholstered footstool to prop up his feet, and covered him with a blanket before gathering materials to light the hearth.

  “My sisters,” Tessen said. He allowed his head to come to rest on the back of the settee and looked up at the ceiling.

  Rin glanced up from sparking the kindling for just long enough to send him a wave of confusion.

  Tessen's shiver worked its way through his bones. “I'm sorry. I should have let you be surprised. I feel them right now, though, just as clearly as I feel you. They're so safe and peacefully unaware of the world beyond you, but they know when you're worried. They hear the change in your heartbeat, feel a shift in your temperature. They know something isn't right, but they don't know what it means.”

  Rin finished with the fire, then joined Tessen beneath the blankets on the settee. She held his hand to her belly, where a series of strong kicks triggered a burning sensation in his slowly warming nerves.

  “I didn't tell you there are two of them. You knew.” Rin reached to the side to drag another blanket over them. Serida crept close and rested her head on Tessen's lap.

  Tessen slouched in his seat so he could rest his head on his mother's shoulder. He stared into the newborn fire and allowed a tiny smile to settle on his lips. “I guessed before. Your belly is bigger than it was with Zinnia. I feel them now that they're sentient. One is calmer than the other, but still worries. The other is anxious. I hope that doesn't mean she's like me.”

  “But I love you. Everyone loves you. You're a wonderful person and the world needs more people like you.” Rin walked her fingers across the back of his hand. “Are you certain they're both girls?”

  “Yes. Males feel different from females, even when experiencing the same emotions. Except people like Kendrian, who feels female, and Hael, who feels like neither. But yes, you're having twins and they are both girls. You seem a little disappointed. You were hoping for another son.”

  “That's not what I'm disappointed about,” Rin whispered into his hair. “I'd love to give Daelis another son, but I'm also happy to have more girls. Daelis told me he loves having daughters and is hoping for more. He wants to have one more after these two, but I'm not sure. I'm about the same size now as I was when you were born, but I'm eighteen years older and I feel those years all throughout my body.”

  “You're thirty-six, not seventy. What are you disappointed about?” Tessen yawned as the warmth of the fire spread from the soles of his bare feet up his legs.

  “That I don't know how to break you out of this depression.”

  “I'm not–”

  “You are. I'm not an empath, but I can feel your sadness. You wander around with this look in your eyes like you've been set adrift and have no idea which direction you might find a shore. Maybe that's why you can't control the feelings you absorb from everyone else. You've been stuck in this cycle since you arrived here and you can't break free of it if you refuse to recognize it. The circumstances surrounding you are certainly making it worse. I don't know what to do, Tessen. I don't know how to help you.”

  He snuggled closer to her and draped his arm over her rippling belly. “I'm so tired, Mom. Just hold me while I sleep. I think that will help.”

  THE PERSON NEXT TO him was not Rin. The warmth radiating through him came from someone slighter and more masculine. A touch of jealousy wandered about the room, but it was only chronic and not malicious. That was Ragan's constant, distinctive solely to him. Ragan was not next to Tessen on the settee.

  Tessen opened his eyes to see a pale and slender hand on top of the blankets. A second hand sat next to it, metallic scaffolding shining in the firelight. Serida, curled up on the rug nearby, snorted and raked her claws through the air, but remained in a deep sleep.

  “Daelis, where's Mom?” Tessen asked.

  Daelis startled. He was lightly asleep until Tessen spoke. He yawned and said, “She can't sit still for very long right now. Her legs go numb or she has to relieve herself. I came over to check on her and she asked if I'd sit with you.”

  “How long ago was that?”

  “A couple hours. It's nearly dawn.” Daelis stretched his arm and let it come to rest behind Tessen's slouched shoulders. He was half his stepson's weight and at least two hands shorter, so the position was too awkward to hold long.

  “Why do I feel Ragan here?” Tessen asked, yawning.

  “Because I'm here, you reckless little–” The floor creaked as Ragan stepped behind the settee. “I was just mixing up some tea. I'll get it steeping now that you're awake.” The floor creaked again as he returned to the kitchen.

  “It's strange to have both of you in my house at the same time,” Tessen said. He rubbed his aching temples, then pushed the blankets to the floor. “I think I'm warm enough now.”

  Daelis gave a sleepy laugh and shifted his feet off the footstool. “I like Ragan. We get along well enough, as long as your mother isn't around. We both want you to know that we're here for you.”

  Tessen slouched further so he could rest his head on Daelis's shoulder. “I lost my father before I could even form a memory of him. It seems I've gained two new ones. I like that.”

  “Good.” Daelis reached up to accept a steaming teacup from Ragan. “I never expected you to think of me as a father to you.”

  “I do. Both of you.” Tessen lowered his stiff legs from the footstool so Ragan could sit on it. The tea Ragan gave him smelled of peppermin
t and ginger. A tension floated around Tessen's head and settled at the base of his skull. “I'm sorry I made you both worry.”

  “It's what you're best at,” Ragan said. He grinned as he blew across the surface of his tea.

  Tears gathered in Tessen's eyes. “I'm sorry. I don't want to be the cause of stress. Or pain. But I always have been.”

  Daelis reached up to touch his face. “You're not.”

  “I am. The anxiety, the phobias, and now this . . . this . . . curse. That's what it is. It's not a magic-skill or a gift, it's a gods-damned curse that has turned me into a dour, invasive prick and robbed me of any chance of ever having a normal life. It's a burden on everyone I love and everyone who loves me. I cause anxiety and worry and pain. And I feel it, all of it.”

  Ragan's eyebrows knit as he set his teacup on the floor. Cadriel scurried out from under the settee to sniff at the contents, then just as quickly returned to his hiding place. Ragan hid a smile behind a tensed hand and said, “He's got himself a new treasure under there. Silver bracelet link he found under your work table. Listen, Tessen. Daelis and I don't understand what you're going through, but we both see that you're hurting because of it. We don't want to lose you.”

  “You've picked a strange way to kill yourself, and now you've tried it at least twice,” Daelis said. He sat forward and rested his elbow on his knee. “I saw you walk home from the Lightborn house dressed only in a table linen. I thought at first you'd lost your clothes after a liaison with one of them, but then I saw the dripping clothing and boots in your hand. The ice on the waterfall pond was fractured. I think either Kemi or Kendrian rescued you after you tried to freeze yourself to death, and then you tried it again in your own home last night.”

  “I'm not trying to kill myself,” Tessen muttered. “I just want to lessen my pain.”