Spellkeeper

by Courtney Privett

  His eyes already bloodshot, Kendrian looked up at Elsin. “Aside from the disownment, do you really think she hasn't said all of that to me before? That she hasn't struck me before?”

  Elsin swallowed and shifted his weight. “I . . . I didn't know.”

  Kendrian squeezed Hael in a desperate embrace as tears flowed from his reddened eyes. “She has never done it in front of other people until now.” He rested his cheek on Hael's shoulder and stared at Elsin. “She always wanted more daughters, but when I told her I was her daughter and not her son, she refused to accept it. I was twelve, and she told me I would 'outgrow this nonsense'. I just turned twenty-two and I haven't, and she continues to berate me. She's the one who turned my brothers against me. She brought me with her when she left my father because he was willing to let me be myself and she wanted to scare me into recanting the very core of who I am. I love her, but I hate her. I hate her so much.”

  “Are you going to leave?” Elsin asked.

  Kendrian lifted his head. “Yes. What choice do I have now?”

  Elsin gently touched Kendrian's cheek. “I see you, Adina. I've always seen you. You need to be you, and that means you need to be away from her. Come talk to me if you need help. I have some ideas of where you and Ara can go.”

  Kendrian swayed against Hael and smiled. “You remember the name, the one I used to scribble on everything.”

  “Is that what you want to be called? Adina?” Hael asked.

  “Yes. And she, not he.”

  Hael kissed her cheek. This made sense, far more sense than her friend continuing to pretend she was a boy. “Adina is a good name. It's beautiful, and so are you.”

  Elsin lowered his hand and sighed. “I need to go home before word gets to my wife that I'm back. And then I need to find out just what Lyssandra intends to do. I have to follow her orders. I'm sorry about that.”

  Adina nodded. “I've incited her wrath. You don't need to. Your duty is to the Regiment and your family, not to me.”

  “Take care of yourself,” Elsin said. He carefully stepped over the glass. “Hael, see that she doesn't spend these next couple days alone, will you?”

  “I take care of my friends,” Hael replied. She waited for Elsin to leave, then kissed Adina's cheek again. “I want to join my Uldru with Juna's Uldru. This means we need to leave here and go to the other place. I want you to come with us.”

  “A week isn't long to prepare this many people to leave in the dead of winter,” Daelis said from the doorway.

  “I think we can do it, though,” Rin said, leaning against him. “It won't take more than a couple hours to descend from the highlands, and the weather isn't as cold in the canyons. Sungate is already housing almost two hundred Uldru. What's a few more? I've been wanting to introduce Frald to our girls, anyway.”

  “Do you mean to go with us?” Hael asked.

  “Definitely.” Rin turned toward Ragan. “What about you?”

  “The hell if I'm staying here with Lyssandra after that,” Ragan huffed. “I have some ideas on how to protect Itrek from the sun so we can move him safely. Adina, maybe you can help me with that in a day or two. I think he might have better luck among the orcs than with the Regiment.” His tail twitched as he patted his pocket. “And let's all head over to my place for a bit. No magic stone lights there, and I need to write out these translations. I know where we need to go after Sungate, but I'm gonna need help figuring out how we're all gonna get there.”

  “YOU NEED TO TRY IT, kid. I can't in good conscience leave you here, so we've gotta figure out how to get you in the sun. We're outfitting the wagons with covers and gathering every tarp we can find so everyone who needs it has darkness during the day, but you might have to go outside at some point.”

  “What if the light burns me even with that?”

  “I dunno, Itrek. We'll figure something out. We've got a couple more days. This thing's all leather. Hood, cloak, longcoat, all modified from orcan designs to accommodate your height and shoulders. Gloves, too, and the hood's big so we'll wrap this scarf around your face and you'll keep your head down even with the goggles. You won't be able to see much and you'll be hot, but it might do. We won't know until we get you outside, so put it on before we run out of light.”

  The cellar door closed and the voices became muffled.

  Hael yawned and opened her eyes. It was still light outside and dust danced through the single sunbeam that broke through the heavy curtains. Squinting, she rolled onto her side and put her arm around Adina. The elf had returned to her own house only long enough to gather her belongs and had spent the rest of the night and into the morning silently weeping in Hael's embrace.

  Hael traced her fingertips along Adina's jaw. She had soft features to match her soft voice, and unlike furry-faced humans and dwarves, her skin would remain smooth into an ancient age. Even with eyes and cheeks swollen from crying, she was pretty.

  Adina startled, then opened her eyes and rolled onto her side to face Hael. “I dreamed I was me, and then I woke up and was still me. Not entirely, but closer than I've ever been.” Tears dripped from her eyes to wet Hael's pillow. “All of you accepted me. I wasn't expecting that, especially with the way I've treated some of them. I'm not a nice person.”

  “You have been nice to me,” Hael said. She scooted closer to Adina to escape the stray beam of sunlight. “Your mother is not nice.”

  “My mother is horrible. I think everyone else is finally starting to see that. She broke your wrist, and then what she did to me last night...” Adina touched her bruised cheek, then let her hand settle on Hael's shoulder. “I would have stayed with my father if not for my brothers. I would go back to Anthora now if not for them. He understands what it's like to live in a body that doesn't make sense. His situation isn't the same as mine, but he still understands some of the detachment and disconnect I feel between my body and my mind. After my older sister died, he told my mother that I should be the heir to the Guardianship and not Kemi. She raged at him right in front of me and said only a naturally born woman, one who could bear children from her own womb, could be Guardian. Father said I could still have daughters of my own blood even if they weren't born from my body, and he reminded her that there have been third-gender people like me all through elven history, including in his own ancestry. And now she's raging at me again because her favorite child is dead, and based on the content of Ragan's letters, her heir has no intent of returning to her. I think she knew that from the moment Kemi disappeared with Tessen. She'll never accept that it's her own fault that her family has fallen apart.”

  Hael traced the point of Adina's ear with her fingertips. “Your mother is strange. She knows I have no womb and cannot bear children because my own body doesn't make sense, but she accepts me as female. You are her daughter, but she doesn't want you to be. She forced you to be someone else. Even Varaku don't do that among themselves. They have four physical sexes, but any of the four can be male, female, both, or neither. They are aware of the physical sex for mating purposes, but they call themselves whatever they know inside they are. Sometimes they change what they call themselves and no one bothers them about it. They just change their words and keep going, which is why it is easy to do that with you. I don't know much more than that. You'll have to ask Itrek if you want to know.”

  Adina stared at the wall beyond Hael. “Maybe another time. As interesting as Varaku biology and psychology sounds, I don't think I can handle that conversation right now. And I need to focus on getting out of Mountain Home. I'm afraid she'll either kill me or kill Ara to hurt me if I stay longer than that week, and I have no idea what awful things she might do to your people.”

  “We'll be ready. I need to get to work once the sun sets. Rin wants to find you some better clothing and do something pretty with your hair so you can start this night better than you ended the last. You should let her.”

  Adina's smile was restrained as she touched the ragged ends of her hair. “I'd like that. I hav
en't bothered to cut it in years. I just couldn't summon the energy to care about it.” She inhaled deeply as she pressed her forehead against Hael's. “All I ever wanted was my mother's approval, but I somehow feel better now knowing I'll never have it. I'm almost free of her. And this is better, this love I'm feeling from you, Ragan, the Goldtrees . . . even Elsin. He's been a loyal servant of my mother as long as I can remember, but he is nothing like her. He defended me from her even though she could have punished him for it. He might still be punished for it.”

  “I think sometimes our real family is different from the family we are kin to,” Hael said. “I lost my family except for Elan, but I don't feel alone. The Uldru and Itrek and you and Ragan, you are my family now. Ragan is everyone's father, and you and Itrek are my sister and brother, and the Uldru are my kin both close and distant.”

  Adina's smile broadened. “No one has ever called me sister before.”

  “You lost one family, but you have a new one. In this family, you're my sister.” Hael propped herself on her elbow, then sat upright as the cellar stairs creaked. “I think we should see if Ragan's clothing for Itrek works. He wanted you to help him. I need to start preparing my people to leave.”

  Adina embraced Hael from behind. She rested her chin on Hael's shoulder blade and whispered, “This is the first time in ten years I didn't wake up angry. I'm sad, but not angry.”

  The cellar door closed and boots scuffed the floorboards. Ragan looked in the open bedroom door and said, “How are you doing, girls?”

  “I don't quite know yet,” Adina replied.

  Ragan nodded. “Give yourself time. I think you'll feel better once you're out of here.” His ears turned to follow a second set of heavy footsteps. “You're in the light, kid. You doing okay?”

  “Nothing burns,” Itrek said, his voice muffled by layers of wool.

  Hael wiggled out of Adina's arms and went to the door. Itrek stood in full daylight, dressed in layers of dark leather. Thick gloves covered his upper hands, and his lower arms were tucked somewhere within the long and bulky coat. The hood covering his head was large enough that the large black goggles and scarves he wore were only visible if Hael stood directly in front of him and looked up.

  Ragan leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms over his chest. “I've been working on it for a couple weeks now. Had to alter the jacket since your shoulders are broader than mine.”

  Adina rubbed the back of her neck as she circled Itrek. “I met several of the orcan mystics of Caradalia at my mother's last sanctuary. I'd think you were one of them if I didn't already know who you are. You should carry a lantern on your belt and a staff with a crystal tip.”

  “Yeah, you're right. He does. I think I can scrounge up a couple things to make it more convincing. Too bad Tessen isn't here. I'd have him replicate a Caradalia pendant for you.”

  Hael touched Itrek's gloved hand, then pressed it upward until their palms touched. The light in the room was low, but still bright enough that she had to squint. “We take care of each other now, Itrek. Not even sunlight can hurt us.”

  Ragan grasped Itrek's arm and led him toward the front door. “I know you're scared, but we need to do this.”

  Itrek's posture stiffened, but he nodded and moved forward. Hael slipped her goggles on and followed him.

  Ragan opened the door and Itrek held his hand into the sunlight. He rotated his wrist and elbow, then shrugged and moved completely into the light. Hael's exposed skin warmed and tingled from both the direct light and the light reflecting off the snow. It was bright, far too bright, and spots exploded in her vision as she turned away.

  “Everything is white,” Itrek said, wonder in his muffled voice.

  Ragan put his hands on his hips and watched Itrek stumble around the stoop. “Yeah, the snow makes it brighter. We shouldn't see much more of it once we get out of the highlands. The canyons are darker and warmer, and we'll stick to the shade as we can. You doing okay? No burning?”

  “No burning,” Itrek said.

  “Good. Come back inside and take it off. I need to alter the neckline a little so it doesn't pinch at the nape. I want you to go out in the sunlight a little more each day until we leave. That way I can make sure there aren't any spots that need to be reinforced. Make sure you keep your hair or tentacles or whatever that is on your head tied back and covered. I know your senses are dulled without them exposed, but we'll help you get around.”

  A new shape came to the door as Itrek disappeared into the cellar. Hael's poor light vision kept her from recognizing the tall man until he and Ragan were within the threshold of the house. Elsin Sylleth removed his hat, but remained on the rug by the now-closed door.

  “What do you need, Captain?” Ragan said, scowling.

  Elsin stared at the fireplace. “I found an extra wagon for you in the stable storage. Harkeren is fixing it up. That should allow enough space for all of the Uldru to remain shaded during the day in addition to hauling provisions.”

  “Thank you, Elsin,” Hael said. She stood near him, hands folded together and goggles still covering her eyes. “What will the Guardian do to us if we are not ready?”

  “Or if another storm rolls in?” Ragan added.

  “I don't know. I'm neglecting my duties to the Regiment in order to help you. She is not pleased about that, but her grief is inconsolable right now so she's not going to do anything until she moves on to a calmer phase.” Elsin looked past Hael at Adina, who still lingered in the bedroom doorway. “I have something for you. I should have given it to you last night but it slipped between the pockets of my saddlebag.”

  Adina slowly walked forward and took the wax-sealed paper from Elsin. “Thank you, Captain. Not just for this. For everything. For remembering my name.”

  Elsin shrugged and returned his hat to his head. “I've thought of you as Adina ever since I saw you writing it on your notebooks in Anthora. I had to hold my tongue not to call you by your chosen name. I know you're hurting right now, but I hope someday you'll see what your mother did last night as something like a gift, though an unfortunate one. She has kept you isolated for years while she tried to break you. You didn't break, and now she has freed you. For the moment, it may feel like you've lost everything, but you haven't. You've gained yourself, and the friendship of people who respect you. Keep them close and they'll be your shield against anyone who might want to hurt you.”

  “Why do you continue to work for her? You're better than her. She threw me into a fire, but you and Hael pulled me out. I'm a little singed, but you didn't let me burn.” Adina flipped the paper between her fingers as tears returned to her swollen eyes.

  “She saved my life twice. I'm not allowed to forget I owe her for that, or for the oaths I took. And Adina, my loyalty isn't only to Lyssandra Zephyrain. It's to the gods-granted position of Moonlight Guardian itself, and to the Moonlight Regiment under my command.”

  “I hope you don't come to regret that loyalty. Thank you, Captain. Your kindness may have saved my life last night.” Adina took Hael's hand and led her back to the bedroom. “Stay with me while I read this, will you?”

  They sat facing each other on the bed, cross-legged and knees touching. Adina broke the wax seal on the pouch of paper and removed several pieces of folded paper from it.

  Hael took the paper pouch from her and held it up. “What is this called?'

  “Envelope,” Adina murmured. She narrowed her eyes at the papers and frowned. “I need to borrow your slateboard and chalk.”

  “Is this a translation like the other letters?” Hael asked as she handed her the writing tools.

  “It's a code.” The chalk squeaked against the slateboard as Adina wrote. “I'm two years and four days older than Kai and Kemi. We were close as children, especially Kai and me. We created a code and wrote notes to each other using it. It has been years since I had to use this cypher because I was separated from my siblings when my mother left Anthora, but I still remember it.”

 
“And your sister knows this code?”

  “She created most of it. The three of us were the only ones who could read it, but Kai died so now it's just her and me.” She tapped the end of the chalk on the edge of the slateboard and sighed. “Gods damn it all, Kemi.”

  “What?” Hael asked.

  Adina held up a finger. “Give me a couple minutes. I'm not as fast at this as I used to be.”

  The chalk clicked and squeaked as she filled the slate with tiny letters. Occasionally, she rubbed her fingertip over it to erase something while offering curses to various deities. Hael closed her eyes and listened to the rhythm of the writing mixed with the crackling fire and the murmurs of whatever Itrek and Ragan were discussing in the cellar.

  The chalk fell silent and Hael opened her eyes. Worry tensed Adina's face as she ran her fingers over and over along the edge of the slateboard.

  “My sister is ridiculous,” Adina scoffed. She ran her fingers through her hair, then gathered it into a messy knot at the back of her head. “She was difficult when we were children. I don't think it was intentional, but it still brought stress upon all of us. She was so rigid in her ideas no matter how little sense they made, and everything had to be just right or she panicked. We never knew what would send her into a rage so we treated her lightly and indulged far too many of her behaviors than we should have. She and Kai were inseparable, though, and he seemed to be a calming presence for her. I don't know if it's because she grew up or because Kai died, but when she came here she was different. She was full of sorrow, but she seemed to be at peace within herself. She didn't tell me why, and I just accepted it because I liked who she had become.” She held her hand to her mouth and sniffled as a silent sob shook her shoulders. “But now in this letter she's shown me that she never let go of those early ideas, she just hid them from us. When we were about eight and ten, she found this book while we were sneaking about our father's library. The Sibyl Augury. It was fiction, something a Sibyl of Concord wrote to pass the years during her exile, but Kemi was convinced it was a prophesy. She pointed out all these similarities between things that were written and things that had already happened, and ignored me when I told her the prose was vague enough and the events common enough that prophesy was unlikely. She gave up on me, but she convinced Kai that the Augury was a prophesy and they were part of it. She still thinks she's part of it.”