Aerenden: The Zeiihbu Master (Ærenden)

by Kristen Taber

  “Which is?” Artair asked.

  “We're heading to the top of Clear Mountain.”

  §

  THEY TRAVELED most of the day in silence, Malaki's words overcasting their moods in the same way clouds overcast the sky. At first torrential, the rain lessened to a drizzle, making their journey more bearable, despite their soggy clothes and mud-caked feet.

  Cal, Eudor, Malaki, and Faillen walked ahead, out of earshot. Talea, Talis, and Artair flanked Meaghan. It seemed to Meaghan as if their rescue party had taken sides in the silent fight between her and Cal.

  Though the moerith bore the weight of most of their gear, allowing the horses to quicken their previous pace, Meaghan still found their progress slow. They would never get to the mountain by nightfall, which meant another night of being taunted by a goal slightly out of her reach.

  She tried using her power, but as the Zeiihbu border grew closer, she found the effort useless. What little she could sense from her traveling companions disappeared by the time the sun slipped behind the trees. It reminded her of her first week on this world, when Nick used his power to block hers. She felt blind then, and she felt no different now.

  “My empath power is gone,” she muttered after making one last attempt at trying to read Faillen.

  “Our sensing powers too,” Talea told her. “It's frustrating.”

  “What about your other powers?” Meaghan asked.

  “They seem to be fine,” Talis said and to prove his point, he swirled his fingers. A small tornado formed on the road. It chased toward the men in front of them, disappearing before it met its goal. Cal turned, and glared at Talis. Talis grinned in response.

  “Mine still works,” Artair said. “But I don't think I'll take my chances lobbing an orb at Cal's feet.”

  Talea laughed. “That's probably wise. I have no way of using mine safely, so I can only assume it's working the same. What about you, Meaghan? Have you tried your other power?”

  “Not yet.” Meaghan located a withered plant at the base of a tree to her right and traced a finger along its stem. Her power coursed through her, warm and alive, until the small, brown weed shot into the air, then thickened into a sapling that towered a foot over Meaghan's head. She jumped out of its way, grinning when purple flowers blossomed over the tree's bright green leaves.

  “It's beautiful,” she said, trailing an index finger along the edge of one of the flowers. “What is it?”

  “I'm not sure,” Talea said. She plucked a flower from the tree. Sticking her nose in the center of it, she inhaled deeply, and smiled. “It smells like berries and cream.”

  “It's meant to entice birds,” Eudor's voice came from behind them. Both women turned to see the older Guardian standing next to Talis and Artair. “In a few weeks, this Bauble Brush Tree will seep nectar. The birds drink it, and then carry pollen on their feet to other trees.”

  He took the flower from her hand and pointed to two yellow stamens protruding from the middle of the petals. “When the tree is producing nectar, these grow into bristles that look like brushes. I'd heard rumors you'd developed the revival power, Meaghan, but I thought it was just that—rumors.”

  “Clearly not,” Talis said. “It's an impressive power. Can you make any plant grow?”

  “So far,” she answered. “Providing the plant is in-season or close to it. I was never able to grow vegetables in the winter.”

  “Great,” Eudor said. “We're on the cusp of spring, so there'll be enough for your power to work on. That should keep us from going hungry.”

  “Anything around here?” Talis asked. “I'm starving.”

  Eudor handed Talis the flower. “Eat up. They don't taste as good as they smell, but they're edible. Two or three of them should do the trick.”

  Talis raised an eyebrow. “No offense, but I'm not sure if I trust you after the razor beast incident.”

  Eudor chuckled. “No offense taken. Here,” he took the flower back and proceeded to eat one petal after the other until nothing remained. He tossed the stem aside. “Good enough?”

  Talis grinned and tossed a petal into his own mouth. Eudor plucked another flower for each of them and handed them out before gathering another dozen. “I'll take these back to the others,” he said. “Don't lag too far behind. Cal is worried about being attacked by whoever is watching us.”

  “Tell him not to worry,” Meaghan responded. “We'll take care of ourselves.”

  “I'm sure you will,” Eudor responded. “Especially with that power of yours.”

  “Meaghan's power?” Talis rolled his eyes. “Sure. If we need an endless ammunition of flowers to chuck at the beasts.”

  “Something tells me she'd find a way to make it work,” Artair said. “Still, we should probably catch up to them before…”

  He hesitated and Meaghan frowned. “Before what?”

  “Never mind.”

  Eudor raised an eyebrow, but said no more. He left to rejoin the others.

  “You're still mad at Cal?” Talea asked, once Eudor was out of earshot.

  “I have a right to be,” Meaghan said and nibbled on a petal. It dissolved almost instantly. She detected the faint hint of berries and cream, similar to its smell, but the taste soon faded. Swallowing hard, she handed the rest of the flower to Talis. She did not have much of an appetite right now.

  “No one would disagree that you have a right to be mad,” Talea told her. “I know you must feel like he lied to you—”

  “He used me,” Meaghan interrupted. “He used my concern for Nick to control the mission so he could take revenge.”

  “Cal doesn't use people,” Talis said. “It's not in his nature.”

  “Are you seriously defending him?” Meaghan asked. She stared at Talis, surprised by the hostility she saw controlled on his face. “May I remind you he's the same man you were fighting with this morning?”

  Talis shrugged. “Cal was wrong this morning. I have no problem fighting with him when he's wrong, but he isn't now. You are.”

  “You can't possibly know that. You weren't there when we made our agreement.”

  “I know Cal,” he said, his voice calm but hard. “I've known him most of my life and there's no one I trust more. If he told you he's doing this for Nick, then he is. He may have other reasons for putting together his team, and he may have chosen Eudor to help him seek revenge, but he wouldn't have put you at risk to do it. He chose Eudor because of that and because his power is strong. His power is far more valuable than any of ours. Confusion is one of the best weapons you can have in battle.”

  “And what happens if we don't get revenge?” Meaghan asked. “Our goal is to rescue Caide. If we can do that without risking our lives fighting Stilgan, we need to. Can we be certain Cal can do that? Or Eudor?”

  “I have no doubt,” Artair answered. “Revenge won't bring Alisen back. Cal understands that. He wouldn't risk the lives of people he cares about to enact his revenge. Eudor will follow his lead. But it's not Eudor or Cal you have to worry about. It's Malaki. I guarantee Cal wouldn't have invited him on this mission if he'd known Malaki had a family in the Village at Yellow Lake. His need for revenge will be a lot greater than Cal's or his father's.”

  “Why?” Meaghan asked. “What does Stilgan have to do with his wife's and son's deaths?”

  “Everything,” Talis responded. “Stilgan led the attack on the village, and he personally ensured that every last man, woman, and child died a horrible death. Only five people survived, thanks to one of the Guardians stationed at the village.”

  “Malaki,” Meaghan guessed.

  Talis nodded. “I didn't know it was him. The stories I've heard never mentioned any names and the Elders are careful to guard the secrets of the border villages. I guess now we know why after what Malaki told us.”

  “What happened to the people who survived?” Artair asked.

  “Two of them went insane,” Talis answered. “Stilgan uses his mind control power to force people to do unspea
kable acts. But that's the kindest thing he did to the people of that village. He had already started torturing the two men who escaped. They remained so tormented by what they saw that Healers had to keep them sedated until they died a few years later.”

  Meaghan's stomach turned. “And the other survivors?”

  “Hunting with Malaki outside the village when Stilgan's army struck,” Talis told her. “Malaki prevented them from reentering the village when he realized what was happening. They hid in the forest by the village until the attack was over. According to the stories, it lasted days. The lake by the village is yellow because of the descin frond that grows under the water. It has certain medicinal properties, but it can also be toxic if it's ground into powder and mixed with the right liquids. It burns through a person's skin, causing an excruciating death.”

  “Oh no.” Talea pressed her hand to her mouth. “Stilgan attacked the village for the frond. He used it on them, didn't he?”

  “Unfortunately,” Talis said. “But that's not the worst part. Malaki is a Sensory Magnifier.”

  “Which sense?” Artair asked.

  “Hearing. I'm told he can hear the smallest sounds from a quarter mile away.”

  Meaghan trailed her eyes to the men who continued to walk ahead of them. Malaki led one of the horses. His relaxed posture proved he did not listen now.

  “The worst part about that attack,” Talis continued, “is that from his hiding place in the woods, Malaki would have been able to hear the whole thing.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  THE DAY'S last rays dipped low on the horizon, slipping past the jagged rock cliff that formed the natural barrier to the edge of the village, and sweeping away the shadows dancing along the edges of Caide's mind. The ground turned gold and then faded into red. He pretended he was a child again, living within the innocence he once took for granted. He loved watching the sun kiss the ground on the way to meeting the welcoming arms of night. He would throw open the door and allow the biting wind of winter to charge in or the humidity of summer to settle over the walls. He would ignore his mother's protests and grin as colors filled the horizon in a final defiance against the nothingness that wanted to swallow them. When they did finally succumb to their fate, he would turn his eyes to the north to watch the fight renewed in the stars dotting white paint over an endless sky.

  He tried to find the same enjoyment he had as a child, but soon lost it to reality. Despite his best efforts, he could not forget that his village no longer held the feeling of home. He could not erase the memory of the madness controlling nearly every waking hour.

  He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to the door. The wood felt hard against his skin. It barred him from the outside world, and kept him prisoner in the sleeping hut that had once held his fondest memories. He could no longer throw open the door. Instead, he used a hole hidden in a knot to peer out. The world looked smaller, the sun less beautiful, but at least he could still see it.

  His head ached. He sought the welt at the base of his skull, wincing when his fingers grazed over the sticky mass. Emma would come to him tonight, as she always did when he needed her.

  He only wished she could help everyone. He squeezed his eyes, gluing them more tightly shut. Someone had died today. He could still hear the woman's screams. He could see the fear in her face as Stilgan drained the blood from her body. Caide did not know her, but he would never forget her. Nor would he forget the defiance in her eyes as she watched him. Stilgan wanted Caide to give in, to partner with Garon in exchange for the woman's life. But Garon would never honor the pact. Death would come to them all eventually, and with Caide's power on Garon's side, it would be at Caide's hand.

  The woman did not want him to make the trade. Her last words to him had proven that. “Stay strong,” she had said. He had heeded her wish, even as her breath left her body, but it did not ease his guilt.

  She was dead because of him.

  Each day since the beginning of his captivity, Caide had watched Stilgan torture the Zeiihbuan people with a smile on his face. When fists, rocks, and weapons no longer seemed to entertain the Mardróch, he had resorted to using potions and hallucinogens. A yellow liquid served as his recent favorite. It burned through flesh and muscle within minutes, only stopping its acidic hunger after Stilgan grew bored of his game and applied a white powder to his victim's wounds.

  Caide wanted to scream, to fight back against Stilgan and rescue his people, but he knew any action would fail without a flawless plan. So he bit his tongue and vowed not to give Stilgan the satisfaction of a response.

  He had succeeded in keeping his promise until today. As two members of Stilgan's army dragged the woman's lifeless body away, Caide could no longer control his rage. He attacked the Mardróch leader. And he paid for it with a club to the back of the head. When he awoke, he lay on the floor of his hut.

  He pressed his hands against the door just to feel the wood roughen his palms. It worried him that Stilgan had progressed to murder. He had begun constructing a spell to block the Mardróch's mind control power. He had been working on it at night and reciting it under his breath during the day, but he still needed more time to complete it.

  Time he no longer had.

  A soft knock sounded at the door and Caide stepped back. Emma entered, shutting the door behind her. He heard a bolt slide and knew she would remain until the guards decided she had completed her job. Some nights they came back hours after Emma had healed him. Other nights, she did not get the chance to finish. But every time she came, they talked in whispered voices, filling the silence with stories from better years. Although the sunset kept his sanity anchored, her visits kept his heart from losing hope entirely.

  She turned her head to smile at him, and he frowned when the firelight touched her face. Red welts extended down one cheek, from her temple to her jaw, evidence of an afternoon filled with pain. He brought a hand to her face, hovering just above her skin.

  “Emma,” he whispered.

  “It's okay,” she said, grasping his hand in hers. “It's nothing. He just wanted to remind you what he can do.”

  “He's reminding me of more than that,” Caide responded. Anger filled his words, but fear squeezed his heart. “He's reminding me you're not safe. He knows I care about you.”

  She lowered her head and he brought his other hand up to her uninjured cheek. “You have to run away, Emma. He'll kill you to hurt me.”

  Tears filled her eyes and she shook her head. “I'm not leaving you. You need my help.”

  “I do,” he said and stepped closer, pulling her into a hug. “You're the only friend I have, but you'll leave me either way. I'd rather you leave and join the resistance than stay here and allow Stilgan to take you away from me forever.”

  “There's no way for me to escape. The guards watch me at night.”

  “Then you'll leave during the day. I'll arrange it. Just promise me you'll go. I need you to live.”

  “All right,” she agreed and turned her cheek into his chest. Her neck brushed against his shoulder and she hissed out a breath. He extended her at arm's length so he could study her.

  “What did Stilgan do to you?” he asked.

  “It's nothing,” she said, then conceded when his frown deepened. “He's gone back to using the leather strap.”

  “He whipped you,” Caide realized. “How far did he go?”

  “Just what you see. And this,” she tugged at the collar of her shirt, pulling it away from her neck and shoulder to reveal more welts. “He did that last. He wanted my injuries to be obvious to you.”

  “Last?” he asked, feeling chilled by the word. “There was more?”

  “Yes,” she answered and pulled up her sleeves. Bandages covered her arms from her wrists to her elbows. Blood soaked through the white cotton. He lifted the corner of one of the bandages and recognized the deep burns marking her skin.

  “The yellow liquid,” he said, pressing the bandage back into place. “Does it hurt?”


  She nodded. “It stings. I cleaned the wounds. I'm sure there are herbs or plants that could help, but I'm not trained.”

  Something almost apologetic hovered in her voice, as if she felt she had failed him for not being a trained Healer. He hated that almost as much as he hated what Stilgan had done to her.

  “Tell the guard you need ice bush leaves,” he instructed.

  “What type of leaves?”

  “Ice bush. It has pointed leaves about half as thick as your hand. I saw some at the edge of the forest by the ceremony hut. If you tell him it's for me, he'll get it for you.”

  “I'll be fine,” she insisted. “They aren't going to give me much time tonight. I have to heal you before they take me away.”

  “Tell him, or I won't let you touch me.”

  She set her jaw in irritation, but nodded and moved to the door. She knocked on it three times. The bolt slid back and then the door opened a crack.

  “You done?” a gruff voice asked from the other side.

  “No. I don't have the right supplies.”

  “What do you need?”

  “Ice bush leaves,” she said. “They're from a plant on the edge of the woods by the ceremony hut. They're thick and pointed. I can't do anything with his injury until I have them.”

  “Yeah, okay,” the voice said and then the door shut, followed by the sound of the bolt locking again.

  Emma faced Caide. “Will you let me heal you now?” she asked.

  “You can try,” he told her. “But I'm not too bad, so if it hurts you in any way, promise you'll stop.”

  “I will, but you're worse than you think. Sit on the bed, please.”

  He took his usual seat at the foot of the bed. She sat behind him. Her fingers trailed up his neck as she sensed for his injury. When she found it, she began. Her power did not feel as hot or as painful today as it had in the past. The heat stopped twice within minutes of starting. Her power resumed immediately, so he ignored the breaks, but when it stopped a third time, he turned to look at her.

  Beads of sweat rolled down her face. Her eyes appeared cloudy with pain. Her breath came short and labored. She lifted her hands again, indicating for him to turn back around and he took both of them in his.