May frowned, but asked for no other details about the incident. Instead, she scooped Aldin up, planting a kiss on his cheek before putting him back down. “You scared us,” she said. “Neiszhe is frantic.”
Aldin looked down at his feet. “I'm sorry,” he whispered.
“He heard you and Neiszhe talking about him today,” Nick informed his mother.
“I know,” she said, and took Aldin by the shoulder. “We heard you two in the woods. Neiszhe's waiting to speak with him about it.”
“How much of our conversation did you hear?”
“Most of it,” she said, and led Aldin and Nick into the maze of caves. Bedtime approached for many of the younger residents and as they entered the sleeping cave, Nick could see parents shooing children in pajamas into their tents. Halfway down the long room, he spotted two women who lived beside each other. They looked similar and many people mistook them for twins—both of them had short, blonde hair, blue eyes, and easy smiles—but Nick knew three years separated them. He gestured for his mother to stop and May obliged. She moved Aldin in front of her, keeping him close by holding his shoulders with both of her hands.
The two women curtsied when they recognized both the Elder and the King. Nick did not return their smile of greeting.
“Darby, Sadie,” he nodded to each in turn. “I'd like to introduce you to a young boy I think you may recognize. His name is Aldin and he's the son of the future ruler of Zeiihbu.”
“Of course,” the older of the two women said and crouched down in front of Aldin. “It's nice to meet you. I'm Sadie.” She extended her hand, and then dropped it when Aldin stared down at it, but did not take it. “You play with Liv, don't you?”
Aldin nodded and backed up until he bumped into May's legs. May moved one of her hands from his shoulder to the top of his head.
Darby grinned at the reaction. “He's shy. How cute.”
“He's scared,” Nick corrected. “He was locked out of the cave today after three boys chased him outside of its protection.”
Darby paled, but Sadie shook her head in protest. “You can't mean—”
“I can and I do. It seems Tibi, Noel, and Ezer aren't fond of having a Zeiihbuan child around. Tibi gave Aldin a black eye.”
Sadie's gaze dropped to Aldin's face and her hands came up to cover her mouth.
“I can't believe it,” Darby objected. “Our boys wouldn't—”
“Aldin's not a liar,” Nick interrupted, the impatience in his voice bringing red to the woman's cheeks. “He may be young, but his character is strong. If either of you have any doubts about him, then it's my word you doubt. I vouch for him.”
Sadie's hands fell from her face. “I'm sorry,” she whispered, though Nick could not tell if she spoke to the boy or to him. “It won't happen again.”
“We'll speak to them,” Darby promised.
“When you do, let them know they're on cooking duty for the next month,” May added. Both women's eyes snapped to the Elder's face. “All three meals. It's important they realize the Zeiihbuans are our brethren, not our enemies.”
“Of course,” Sadie choked out. She managed a pinched smile. “Please understand we haven't raised them this way. Liv adores Aldin. She'd be crushed if he didn't play with her any longer.”
Nick released the anger he felt in light of the woman's shame. He stepped forward to touch Sadie on the shoulder. “It's not my intent to separate the children. I only want to ensure Aldin is welcomed. He deserves to feel safe as much as every child here.”
“He will. Our boys won't bother him again. The punishment May assigned won't be the only one they receive.”
“Good,” Nick said and stepped back, turning when a voice yelled Aldin's name from a few yards away. It carried joy and relief, and Nick's eyes weren't the only ones drawn to the source of it. Everybody within hearing distance focused on the woman who advanced on the young child. Her black hair whipped behind her as she ran. Her smoke colored eyes danced. Her cheeks blushed red with excitement and exertion, and her full, pink lips spread into a grin as she scooped the child away from May and into her arms, adjusting her hold to bring him close when the swell of her pregnant stomach got in the way.
“Don't ever do that again,” she lectured the child, but negated the sternness of her words when she peppered kisses over his face. He giggled.
“That tickles!”
She laughed and set him back down. “I love you, child. You remember that next time you think I'm upset with you.”
Aldin nodded with the seriousness of an adult, and then reached up to take her hand with the true innocence of his age.
Sadie and Darby took their leave quietly, and Nick followed his mother and Neiszhe to the back of the cave.
“I'm going to put him to bed,” Neiszhe told Nick. “I'll visit after he's asleep.”
“Of course,” Nick agreed and waited until she had disappeared into her tent before he turned to his mother to ask the question forefront in his mind all day. “Did they translate the message yet?”
May pressed her lips together and shook her head. “I'm sorry. Sam said the language must be fairly old. It's an odd mix of symbols and letters. He's never seen anything like it before.”
Neiszhe's head popped out of the tent. She stared up at May. “You received a message?” she asked. “Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because it was sent by way of the gildonae,” May answered and sighed. “Only the Elders were to know about it.”
“My husband's an Elder,” Neiszhe pointed out and climbed out of the tent to stand in front of them. She crossed her arms over her chest
“I fail to see how that relates,” May responded.
“It relates because Cal tells me everything, and he would assume that since he's on this mission, you'd keep me informed.”
“Where it matters we have, but in this case—”
“In this case, it matters most,” Neiszhe interrupted. “I'm the only one who can translate the message.”
May frowned. “How could you possibly know that?”
“Because it uses a mix of symbols and letters,” she answered, dropping her arms. “May, it's not an ancient language you're trying to translate. It's code. Cal wrote the letter and it was intended for me.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
THOUGH NIGHT had long since blackened the sky, the moon served as a steady reminder the world had not yet given up hope. Angelic stars kept the celestial orb company and Nick turned his eyes toward them, counting each pinpoint of light to still his racing mind as he waited for Neiszhe to finish putting Aldin to bed. She would bring Sam when the time came to translate the message.
Nick knew the importance of calming Aldin and of reassuring the child he had no reason to think Neiszhe did not care for him, but Nick found the wait agonizing. He paced, barely noticing his mother standing in the shadows outside the cave entrance.
She had not said much since Neiszhe informed them she could read the note. Nick doubted his mother was upset with the younger woman. He also did not think Cal's habit of sharing secrets with his wife surprised her. Nick's mother would have done the same when his father was alive. If anything, Nick guessed keeping Neiszhe from knowing the details of the mission had been Miles's idea. Although Nick's mother and the Head Elder worked well together, they often disagreed. Their arguments ranged from heated to chilled, but May rarely lost one. The fact that she stood up to the man who technically served as her superior spoke as testament to both her tenacity and her intelligence. Nick felt certain the note would not have remained a secret longer than another day or two.
He kicked a loose stone from its bed in the soil, and then watched it hop across the ground. Bending down, he picked up another and cast it toward the sky. It sailed across the ocean of stars, free in its arcing journey before gravity reclaimed it. He tossed a second, and then a third, cascading them through the air in quick succession. They fell to the ground further than the first, each emitting a soft thud, and then silenc
e returned. No crickets greeted him tonight. No frogs sung for their mates. No owls hooted in surprise. Even his mother remained quiet under the cover of oppressive darkness.
It was unlike her. Since Nick's earliest memories, she had always been his balance. When he felt sad, she made him smile. When he was sick, she made him better. When anxiety gripped him, she became his calm. And when fear stole his words, she found them for him.
He turned to catch her watching him, her eyes dark, her face lined with worry, and he reversed their roles. He went to her and took her into his arms.
She rested her cheek against his shoulder, returning the warmth he gave her by completing the hug.
“I'm so sorry,” she whispered.
Nick could not guess the reason for her apology, but he doubted its merit. He had never known her to do him any harm. He pressed his lips to the top of her head.
“I'm so sorry,” she repeated. “I heard what you told Aldin.”
Nick's blood chilled to ice and he forced a breath, though his lungs wanted to freeze too. He knew she had heard some of his conversation with Aldin, but he had hoped she had not heard about his role in his father's death. He had never wanted her to know what had happened. He had never wanted her to hear the depth of his crime.
“Mom,” he choked past a tight throat, and then stopped when she looked up at him and placed a hand on his cheek.
“I never realized,” she said. “You were so angry, so lost after your father died. I thought it was because you saw the Mardróch kill him. If I had known,” she closed her eyes and sighed. Her hand fell to his shoulder. “I failed you.”
Nick stared at her, confused. He had expected her to be mad at him for causing her husband's death, or at the least, he expected her to be disappointed. He did not expect to see guilt painted on his mother's face, especially not the same tormenting guilt he had harbored for so many years.
“I don't understand,” he told her. “I'm the one who should be apologizing to you, if it were even possible to find the right words. It's my fault Dad was killed.”
“No,” she whispered. She opened her eyes to reveal her tears. “It isn't. It never was. If I hadn't been so blinded by my own grief, I would have seen the truth in yours. I should have.”
He shook his head. “I still don't understand.”
“I knew, Nick. I always did. Your father was helping me when he sensed you step out of the boundary of the village. Neither of us sensed any danger. Maybe I should have when the Mardróch arrived, but it was a difficult healing. When your father didn't come back right away, I thought he was playing with you.” She bit her lip and reached up to remove a tear from the corner of her eye. “It must have been terrible for you to watch him die and then have to hide in the woods waiting to be rescued, but I never realized you felt responsible for his death.”
“I am responsible. I know you don't want to hear it, but it's true. If I hadn't disobeyed you and gone out there—”
“Then you wouldn't have been a child.” She tightened her hand on his neck, demanding his attention in a way only a mother could. “You were eight. You've seen how children behave in the caves, how they long to be outdoors. You were no different, nor should you have been. Children need to play. They need to be free.”
She rose on her toes to bring her lips to his forehead, and then drew her arms around his neck, pulling him close again.
“I'm glad you found Aldin this evening. I think only you could have known the right words to comfort him, but you also should have heard them when you were young. Listen to me now, Nick, and hear the truth. You aren't responsible for your father's death. This war is. Garon is, and so are his Mardróch, but not you. Your father loved you and he never would have wanted you to feel this way about his sacrifice. He protected you, love. You didn't kill him.”
Nick closed his eyes, and in that instant, their roles righted again. He pressed his face into his mother's neck, giving into the comfort she provided and to the words she had spoken. His guilt eased, but it was soon replaced by embarrassment when someone cleared his throat behind them.
Nick and his mother turned to face the white-haired man who stood in the entrance to the cave. The Elder smiled at Nick from a clean-shaven face that used to sport a short beard. He had put on some weight since Nick saw him last, and it relieved the younger Guardian, as did the healthy glow in place of the pale complexion the man had sported a month before.
“I'm not interrupting anything, am I?” Sam asked. “I thought you'd want to get straight to the message the gildonae brought, but it can wait if you need to finish your conversation.”
“We had some catching up to do,” May answered. “I think we're done now.”
“We are,” Nick confirmed and grazed a kiss across his mother's cheek. She squeezed his arm before stepping away from him to greet Neiszhe as the woman exited the cave holding a slip of paper in her hand. Small print covered both sides of the sheet, and Nick knew by the worry wrinkling Neiszhe's forehead that she had already read it. He swallowed the fear swelling a lump in his throat and waited for her to speak.
“There's a lot of information in the letter,” she told them. “Cal and I worked out the code so we could write sentences in the space of only a few letters. Symbols represent phrases and words are often acronyms. For instance, AWU stands for 'I am well and unharmed.' It's how Cal always starts his letters so I won't worry about him. He began this note the same way.”
“So it's good news?” Sam asked.
Neiszhe hesitated. Her eyes trailed to Nick and she shook her head. May's arm came around her son's waist. Nick felt weak, but he refused to think the worst until he heard the words.
“Meaghan?” he asked.
“She's fine,” Neiszhe told him. “But,” her voice wavered and her gaze dropped to the letter as if she needed to confirm the facts again before she believed them. “Your message didn't get there in time to stop the traitor from attacking. It was Eudor.”
May gasped and this time Nick offered support when she shook. “It couldn't be,” she protested. “He wouldn't have done anything to harm Cal.”
“He tried to kill his own son,” Neiszhe told her. “The Shadow Guard is a lot worse than we imagined. Cal has written everything he knows about them here, but I think it's best to wait to discuss it until we're sitting down with a pot of jicab tea.”
Nick nodded and remembered the look she had cast him. He felt fear grip him again and knew the attack had not ended well. “Neiszhe,” he said, but he did not have to finish his question. She knew what he wanted to ask just as easily as he knew she had trouble answering.
Her hand went to her swollen stomach, seeking comfort from her husband through their unborn child.
“Eudor murdered Talis,” she whispered.
Nick's stomach roiled and his knees buckled. Although he managed to control both, he could not stop sorrow from burrowing pain through his chest. His hands trembled, and he locked them around his mother's. First Cissy, and now Talis, two childhood friends lost in too few months. It had not been long since they had all climbed trees as young kids, attended school together, and hung out in each other's houses as teenagers, imagining what their lives would be like when they grew old. Cissy had wanted children. Talis had wanted his chance to become a castle guard. Now neither of them would fulfill their dreams.
“We should get the tea now,” Sam said.
Nick did not move. “Did Cal say how Talea's doing?”
“As well as can be expected,” Neiszhe responded. “But she'll be all right. He said Artair would make sure of it.”
“Artair?”
Neiszhe nodded. “Although I know it can't take away the sorrow of Talis's death, Cal gave us some good news in his letter. Talea wed Artair. Talis saw it happen and approved of it.”
Neiszhe was right. The wedding did not make up for Talis's death, but it brought a glimmer of light to the darkness shadowing Nick's heart.
“There's more,” Neiszhe said and Nick detected t
he same glimmer in her eyes. “Ed had a sister. They found her, and through her, Ed's tribe. The tribe has agreed to help Meaghan with the mission.”
“That's a relief,” May said. “Though I must admit, I didn't know Ed had a sister.”
“Neither did Cal,” Neiszhe responded. “It turns out she's Mycale's mother.”
Nick frowned, gripped by sorrow at the reminder of one more life lost, but Neiszhe's face seemed devoid of the same grief.
“Do his parents know?” Nick asked. “Did Cal tell them?”
“He didn't have to,” Neiszhe said and smiled despite the grief filling the conversation. “Nick, Mycale is alive. They've seen him. They've talked to him. He left the village before the attack. He's—” her voice broke and she covered her mouth as tears coursed down her face. She sobbed with a mix of joy and sorrow, of pain and relief. Nick went to her. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her as she wept. Sam and May said nothing. They could not understand what Neiszhe and Nick felt, what they alone shared.
They had been together when they received word about the destruction of Neiszhe's village. They had suffered the agony of that loss within the confines of a small cabin, recounting the faces of the people they had known and the lives of those who had been taken, sharing stories and grief by the long shadows of waning firelight before the last bit of warmth had succumbed to the clawing fingers of a dark night.
Mycale's survival was a moon to that night, a pale light they could hold against the fears surrounding them in darkness. They clung to it as they clung to each other, and for the first time since Meaghan and Cal had left, Neiszhe and Nick found hope.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
MEAGHAN CUPPED her hand over her eyes, shielding them from the sunlight as it reflected off the river. Water stretched for miles in front of her and for half a mile to either side. She lifted her double-bladed paddle from the water and rested it across the opening to her kayak. At least, she thought of it as a kayak. It looked similar to the watercraft she had learned to paddle as a child, although Everel's tribe had hollowed these out of something called a paper tree.
Aerenden: The Zeiihbu Master (Ærenden) Page 32