Aerenden: The Zeiihbu Master (Ærenden)

by Kristen Taber

  Although she tried to be quiet, Meaghan could not disguise the soft crunch her footfalls made on the leaf-covered ground, and Emma and Mycale looked up at her when she approached. Darvin remained focused, his hands on Emma's arm, and Meaghan realized that Mycale was not using his power. The young man's purpose seemed to be support as he held Emma's free hand in both of his own.

  “How's she doing?” Meaghan asked.

  “Well,” Mycale responded and raised a hand to Emma's shoulder when she cried out in pain. “Focus on something else,” he told her. “Close your eyes and find a place that makes you happy.”

  “It hurts too much,” she whispered. “I didn't realize how much it would hurt.”

  “Your first time being healed is always the hardest. You've done this for other people, haven't you?”

  She nodded and hissed out a breath, squeezing her eyes shut when Darvin's hands moved up her arm. “I've only healed Caide. He never told me it hurt like this.”

  “From what I hear, Caide is fairly impressive and so are you.”

  Emma shook her head as tears streamed down her face. “I'm not. I'm just—”

  Another cry of pain cut off her words. She latched her fingers around Mycale's hand.

  “That's it,” Mycale said. “Squeeze as hard as you need. I can handle it. Try focusing on my voice, okay?” She nodded and he lifted a hand from her shoulder to the back of her head. He drew his hand down the length of her hair and then lifted it again, repeating the comforting motion. “Dad's almost done healing you. Once he is, you'll be able to use your arm again, and you'll be able to heal people at full power. I know from experience that it's hard to channel your power when you're distracted by pain. How long have you been healing others?”

  “A month, I guess,” she answered and opened her eyes to focus them on Mycale. “Since Caide arrived in the village.”

  Mycale smiled. “And you say you're not impressive. I trained for years before I healed my first person. Have you had any training?”

  She shook her head. “No one was supposed to know about my power.”

  “It's nothing to be ashamed of. In fact, you should be proud of your power. You and I are rare.”

  “Caide said there are a lot of Healers in Ærenden.”

  “There are,” Mycale agreed. “But you and I are the only ones who aren't Guardians. Even my father used to be a Guardian once.”

  “Really?” Emma smiled through her tears. “I didn't know that. Can you train me?”

  Mycale chuckled. “I'm still in training myself, but maybe my father can.”

  “Or May,” Meaghan said as she moved to Mycale's side. “I know she'd be glad to teach you.”

  Emma's gaze fixed on Meaghan. “Who's May?”

  “May is Nick's mother. She's an Elder. You would need to move to Ærenden to train under her, but if you're interested, I can arrange it.”

  “I'd like that. Is she a good Healer?”

  “She's the best there is,” Darvin told her as he released his grip on her arm. “Be forewarned, though. She's tough. Probably the toughest teacher you'll ever have. But if you can handle her training, you'll come out of it as one of the best Healers in the kingdom.”

  “That would be wonderful.” Emma smiled and let go of Mycale's hand. “Am I healed?”

  “You are,” Darvin answered. “That was a terrible break you had. I'm surprised you were able to function at all.”

  She flexed her wrist back and forth, staring at it as if she could not believe the pain had ended. “Caide told me about jicab root. I've been drinking it regularly.”

  “That's good,” Darvin said and stood. He extended his hand to Emma and then pulled her up when she took it. “But I'm sure it hasn't been helping you sleep. It's time to correct that. Go to bed. I'll bring you some tea to help you rest.”

  She nodded and left them. Darvin turned to his son. “Head back to camp. I'll join you in a few minutes.”

  Mycale followed in Emma's footsteps. Silence eclipsed the woods again before Darvin turned to Meaghan.

  “I'm sorry,” he said.

  Meaghan clasped her hands behind her back. “For what?”

  “For following you. I realize you must be upset but—”

  “I am.”

  “—we're Guardians. Or at least, I used to be. It's hard to let that mentality go, even without the powers to back it.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “And Mycale?”

  “Was raised to be a Guardian, though he doesn't realize it. He can fight like one, and he thinks like one. The three of us felt it would be an abandonment of our duties if we followed your request.”

  “And what about the mission?” Meaghan countered. “What about Faillen's son? What if one of Stilgan's men had seen you? If they'd been injured like Emma, they could have.”

  “Emma didn't see us because her arm was broken.”

  “Why else would she have seen you? Élana said the spell allows someone to see a hidden object when there's a need.”

  “An important need,” Darvin said. “I've seen my wife test the spell hundreds of times over the years. The spell for stories is more lenient. It allows the stories to show up when a need arises, when the person reading has a wish or a desire that triggers it. The one that hides objects doesn't allow them to be seen so easily. When Élana lost her horse, she felt the need for the animal the entire time she looked for it, but it only appeared when she grew desperate.”

  Surprise caused Meaghan to release her grip on her hands. She dropped them to her sides. “There are two spells?”

  Darvin nodded. “She didn't want you to know because she was afraid you'd insist on getting the counterspell for the book. She didn't want you to try to unlock its secrets yet.”

  The last of Meaghan's anger dissolved into disappointment. She had intended to do just that when she saw Nick next. She would have tried it already, but she wanted his support when the rest of her parents' stories appeared, especially the one detailing her father's death.

  “Élana was right, of course,” she conceded. “If I understand what you're saying, Stilgan's men won't be able to see you if they have a regular injury, just a life threatening one, right?”

  Darvin slid his hands into his pockets. “Stilgan's men won't be able to see us at all. The spell is a complicated one, though I know it doesn't appear that way on the surface. It responds to both need and intent. Someone who has bad intentions doesn't have a true need. The spell knows the difference.”

  “So the spell will allow our army to fight Stilgan's men without being seen, even when Stilgan's men are dying from the attack?”

  “Precisely.”

  “It's a good thing Garon doesn't know the spell then, or the war would have been over long ago.”

  “It wouldn't matter if he did know it,” Darvin said. “It doesn't work for large objects, like houses, or groups of people.”

  Meaghan's breath caught in her throat. “That can't be. Élana told us we could use it to hide the army.”

  “And you can,” he assured her. “She didn't realize how many people you'd have, but you don't need all fifty of Everel's tribe members to make your first attack.”

  Pain brewed behind Meaghan's temples and she pressed her fingers to them. “How many will the spell cover?”

  “Twenty or so, but I don't even think you'll need that many. I recommend sending in ten of your best fighters and then following them up with the remainder of the army once Stilgan knows he's being attacked.”

  “A double wave,” Meaghan said and dropped her hands. “That could work. It's not like Stilgan won't figure out he's being attacked after a few minutes anyway.”

  “Exactly.” Darvin rocked back on his heels. “The spell also won't work if it's cast with bad intentions. Remember that. If your intent is to fight Stilgan and his men, the spell will be useless to you. But if you focus on rescuing the boy, you'll be fine.”

  “Okay. There's one thing I don't understand, though.”

  “Wha
t?”

  “If Emma didn't see you because of her arm, what was her important need?”

  Darvin pulled his hands from his pockets and lifted them, palms up so she could see the light purple tinge coloring his skin. “She was dying,” he answered. “She didn't realize it, but the spell did. It understands need even if the person who has the need doesn't know it. The purple is from a poison known as vapor poison. It takes about a week to kill, and it only has one symptom. It wasn't the pain from her arm that kept her from sleeping. It was the poison.”

  “Why did it turn your skin purple?”

  “Because I had to take on some of it to filter it from her body. My healing power turns it purple as a warning to me.”

  Her eyes snapped from his hands to his face. “Does that mean you're dying?”

  “No.” He tucked his hands back into his pockets. “My power dispensed most of it. Emma still has trace amounts of it in her blood, too. The tea I plan to give her will wash the rest of it out of her system. I'll drink some, as well, before I go to bed and both of us will be fine by morning.”

  “So Stilgan poisoned her,” Meaghan guessed. “It's a good thing Caide made her leave the village. He saved her life.”

  “He did,” Darvin agreed. “And it's a good thing we decided to disobey you. She only had a day or two left to live.”

  Meaghan felt truly grateful for that fact. “I don't see why you don't want Emma to know that Caide saved her life, though. As a Healer, she'll benefit from learning about the poison and it might also ease her guilt about leaving him.”

  “I'll tell her after we rescue Caide, but until we do, it will only worry her to know about it. It won't take her long to recognize the implication of her poisoning. If Stilgan was willing to kill the person who healed Caide every night…”

  “Then Stilgan isn't worried about keeping Caide alive,” Meaghan realized.

  Darvin's focus drifted toward the blackness filling the spaces between the trees, in the direction of Caide's sleeping father. “We can't delay any longer.”

  Meaghan nodded in agreement, though her eyes followed another direction, toward a distant village she had never seen, but had dreamed about nearly every night since Caide's kidnapping.

  “The time has come,” she told Darvin. “Tomorrow, we finish this.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  THEY LEFT before dawn announced the start of the new day. Cadell joined their party, as did the men and women among his followers healthy enough to fight. Thane stood forefront in line, but Cadell refused to allow Emma to come when she volunteered. He tasked her with healing the remaining tribe members instead. Although she had tears in her eyes when the twenty-person party took their leave from camp, she obeyed. Meaghan could see her leaning over a man who had been coughing all night and had no doubt the young woman would fulfill her duty well before they returned.

  They traveled by darkness and by silence, warding off a sudden chill with fast movements that coated their skin with a thin sheen of sweat. Meghan did not feel like they ran as much as they chased an imaginary finish line. No one knew what had catalyzed Stilgan to give up hope on converting Caide, or even if the Mardróch leader had already buried Faillen's son. They simply raced time to their destination.

  Despite their adrenaline-fueled efforts, lunchtime passed before they arrived at the rendezvous point they had given Everel, though her father's cousin did not greet them. Meaghan had known the trek on foot would take him longer than her journey down the river, but that did not make their wait any easier. Faillen paced, his anxiety palpable and contagious, but no one dared propose they attack the village alone. They needed Everel to succeed.

  Late afternoon came before Faillen stilled his feet. He had worn grooves into the soft dirt, eight solid lines transecting at one point, and on this point, he stood. Meaghan followed his gaze to the canopy of green leaves overhead. The sun greeted her as shards of light dancing within shadows and promises of warmth mixing with shaded cool. It did nothing to aid in their efforts. It only marked the minutes slipping away while Caide's life possibly did the same.

  Faillen tucked his hands behind his back and turned to his father. “We have one more army to gather.”

  “Of course,” his father responded. “You mentioned that already. Ed's former tribe should be here soon.”

  “Unless they've met trouble,” Faillen agreed. “But that's not the army I meant. There's another I didn't want at our side until the time of attack neared. I don't trust her enough not to feed us to them if she grows bored.”

  “She?” Cadell asked, though his tone did not carry the right amount of curiosity and his face paled with the question.

  Faillen's eyes narrowed. “So it is you.”

  Cadell swallowed hard enough for Meaghan to see his throat bob. His gaze wavered from his son's, but he held his voice strong. “I don't know what you mean.”

  “You do,” Faillen said. “But there's no point in arguing over it. It's easy enough to prove.” Without waiting for a response, he turned from his father and called into the sky a name that brought Cal to Meaghan's side. Darvin flanked her other side, though he looked confused about the reason for the added protection. Faillen waited a few minutes, turned his ear to the silence of the trees, and then called her name again. “Anissa, fulfill your promise to me.”

  A razor beast sauntered around a tree, passing both those people frozen with surprise at its sudden appearance and those with enough presence of mind to draw their weapons. Thane blocked the beast's path. He held his bow and arrow ready, aimed at a point between the creature's eyes.

  “Thane,” Faillen said, his voice soft, and Thane backed down, though he did not put his weapon away. His arrow continued to follow the large cat as it made its way to the center of the star Faillen had worried into the ground.

  It sat down on its haunches, and then stretched out its front paws, placing its head between them. Light swirled around the feline and then dissolved. In its place stood the bowing form of the last remaining ghoul.

  She rose, tossing her head back to free her long, brown and gray hair from her shoulders, and flashed a sharp-toothed grin in Faillen's direction. “I was beginning to think you had forgotten about me.”

  “You're hardly a woman who leaves memories alone,” Faillen said.

  Anissa's grin broadened and she inclined her head. A purr escaped her lips. “It is too bad there is the smell of another mate on you or I might consider marking you for mine. You would make a fine den keeper.”

  “That's enough,” Cadell barked and Anissa's smile dissolved from her face. Her chin tucked down in obedience.

  “Yes, master.”

  “So he's your other,” Faillen said. “I suspected as much. Is he the one who commanded you back into these lands during the Zeiihbu War with Ærenden?”

  Her head rose. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at Cadell, but she did not answer.

  “She's nothing if not loyal,” Faillen murmured to his father. “I wish I could say the same about you. Why did you keep this from me?”

  Cadell squared his shoulders. “I don't wish to discuss this around others.”

  “Why not?” Faillen countered. “Are you still ashamed of our heritage, of what my sons can do?”

  Cadell looked away from him toward the crowd that watched in silence, their shock made apparent by their round eyes and gaping mouths. Faillen looked as if he could strangle his father for uttering one wrong word. He tightened his fists at his sides. His face turned hard and unforgiving. And his body stiffened, his anger forged from the same steel holding his spine rigid.

  “Do you still think you can pass your shame off to Ree? Do you aim to haunt her with your crimes even in her grave?”

  Cadell's eyes snapped back to his son's. They widened. “Ree's….”

  He could not finish the sentence, but Faillen did, the word devoid of emotion. “Dead. Stilgan's men killed her when they took Caide. She went to her grave believing she was the weakness in our famil
y. Believing you were gracious enough to forgive her for her legacy. You let her think she was the reason we had to leave here when all along you knew it was our family that gave my boys their powers, our family that made you ashamed.”

  Cadell seemed to wilt. His shoulders slumped as he shook his head. “I didn't mean—”

  “Save it,” Faillen said and turned from him. “Our secrets end here. It's time everyone knew the truth.” He raised his voice and spoke to those surrounding them. “You know the story of Zeyed. You've heard the tales from childhood and most of you believe they are no more than fiction. They aren't. My father and I are direct descendants of the first Spellmaster. Caide has received that power from our lineage, as has Aldin.”

  He cast a glance back at his father, who refused to meet his gaze.

  “My father has hidden this from you because we in Zeiihbu believe it's shameful to have a power. I felt the same way once, but I've seen what good can come from it. Many of you have gained from Emma's gift over the past few days. You'd still be ill or hurt without her.” He scanned the faces of the men and women who remained silent in front of him, meeting their eyes one at a time. “Zeiihbu must change. We must accept that powers are a part of our lands, and I ask those of you who are willing to do that to stand by my side. Those who aren't can leave. I won't hold you in judgment, but I also won't let you judge my son or my family for who we are.”

  He waited until his words faded and then a moment longer. No one moved. No one turned to walk away. No one spoke against him. When Meaghan decided they had all succumbed to shock, a man in the front row stepped forward. He lifted his hands and a ball of fire formed between them.

  “I was the first in my family to develop a power,” he said. “My son developed his own last year. I've waited in fear every day for someone to discover us. I've hidden who I am from my wife and my daughter. I don't want to do that anymore.”