The two girls clung to each other in a fierce embrace. “Why do they stand that way?” Brin asked.
They must. They are two halves of a whole. They are the key. A key cannot open a lock if it is split in two.
“I need to go to them.”
And so you shall, but the time is not yet. It is too soon, but sadly, when you do go, it will be too late. The key will be sundered.
“I do not understand.”
You will, when Rah wishes it. For now, all that you need to know is that the time is coming. When the walls fall and you take your treasure and flee, you must go to the Windy Wall. There you will wait. When they come, follow the coast North until you get to the others.
“But how can I wait? Tabby and Holly are being pursued. What if something happens to them while I am doing nothing?”
Oh, you of little faith. Would Rah be blinded by a speck? Would he be brought low by a sliver in his heal? A thousand times less is the inconvenience of the Etrafarian boy Kellen. He is like a dog chasing his own tail. His presence urges the key on, nothing more.
“Forgive me, mighty Tolah, but when you spoke to me all those years ago, you spoke clearly. You said a single word: run. Now you come to me in a dream, tell me things I can’t understand, and wrap your words in symbolism and riddles. Why?”
Why? Why? Brin’du Drak’Tir, it is like you do not know me at all. Why you ask? Because it amuses me to do so.
Tolah’s laughter echoed through his mind. The field darkened until it disappeared. Brin rolled over in his sleep and dreamed no more of Tolah, but when he awoke, he remembered it all.
Chapter 24
Brint had said that they weren’t going to make it through the swamp in a day, but no one would have thought they'd be trudging their way through the muck and mire for three full days.
Holly lay against Brint as she had for three nights now. One of his arms was wrapped protectively around her. When they first lay down together, he made sure that his arms were at his sides, but at some point during the night, one or both would end up around her. It always happened after he'd fallen asleep, so she knew he wasn’t consciously doing it.
It was nice. Comforting, in a way, but she was still no closer to knowing how she felt about it. On the one hand, he was kind, considerate, strong, and loyal, but on the other hand…on the other hand…nothing. There was no down side to Brint. He was certainly handsome, though she hadn't really noticed until recently. He was always just Brint. Now she found herself noticing the way his hair fell over his eyes and how he would absentmindedly rake his fingers through his thick mane to get it out of his way. Whenever he did that, he would look as though it was a nuisance to him, but she noticed that when he had it trimmed, he always made sure it was kept just long enough so that he would still be able to brush it aside. He seemed to do it more when he was thinking, or trying to stall for time. It looked casual enough, but it had probably become a habit with him. Also, when he smiled, there was the tiniest dimple in one cheek. It always made her think of how he had looked as a small child. He had been apple-cheeked then, and the dimple had been deeper, and appeared often. It always made her smile in return. She was two years his senior, and she remembered how, at the ripe old age of six, she had taken his pudgy hand and led him through Maj Keep, showing him all the secret things there were to know. Things like where the best hiding spots were; where cook liked to set the fresh baked desserts to cool so they'd be exactly the right temperature for the evening meal; and where one of the cats had stashed her litter of kittens. He had looked up to her with a kind of raw adoration, and she'd basked in the glow of his unfettered love. As they grew, he became less interested in the things she might show him, and he drifted to the practice fields with many of the other children. His attention fixated on his father and his Uncle Daniel. Still, every once in a while, he'd come and sit beside her, and they'd spend a few quiet hours together. He'd show her his new sword, or reenact the day’s lesson for her, and she would entertain him by bringing a drizzle of rain, or a small flurry of snowflakes. Whatever it was, he always made her smile. Brint was part of her landscape, and up until recently, she hadn’t thought of him as anything else, but now she was wondering why that was so and if there might be more to him.
She slipped his arm away from her and tried to rise without disturbing his sleep, but he was awake in an instant. “What is it? Is everything okay?” he asked as he reached for the sword that lay beside him.
“Shh, you’ll wake them up. Everything is fine, I need to…you know.”
“Do you want me to come with you?”
“Absolutely not!” she whispered loudly. “I think I can manage. I’ll be right back.”
She could see his expression in the filtered moonlight, and for a moment she thought he was going to push the issue, but he nodded and set the sword down again.
“If you see anything, yell. I don’t care if it turns out to be nothing more than a frog. You don't take chances, all right?”
“All right.”
She worked her way along the boggy ground and searched for a place where she could do what needed doing without him overhearing anything. Being cautious had its merits, but there was no way she was going to let him hear her pee. She finished up as quickly as she could, and was about to turn back, when a sound caught her attention. She was glad she saw him almost as soon as she heard him, or she might have cried out involuntarily, and that would surely have brought Brint on the run.
“Dibbuc, what are you doing here?”
“Dibbuc isss alwaysss herrre. Dibbuc told you he would be watching, and ssso he hasss, even in thisss nasssty, foul place.”
“Is there something you need? I can’t be gone long.” At this, she looked over her shoulder to make sure that she wasn’t being searched for already.
“I came to tell you that thingsss arrre verrry, verrry bad in Etrrrafa. My missstrrresss isss worrried, but she sssaysss to tell you that you have the powerrr to make it betterrr, if you will.”
“Me? What can I do, and why does she even care?”
“Sssilly girrrl. Don’t you know that my missstrrresss lovesss the Etrrrafarrriansss like herrr childrrren? Herrr only wish isss forrr theirrr sssafety and happinesss. It grrrievesss herrr to sssee them sssufferrr.”
“That’s not what I’ve been told. What about Niada? Cifera killed Niada; that doesn’t sound much like a loving parent to me.”
Dibbuc issued a screeching hiss, and Holly looked once more behind her to make sure they weren’t about to be interrupted.
“Niada wasss the one to attack firrrssst! My missstrrresss had no choice, and it brrroke herrr hearrrt to do what needed to be done. It wasss a warrr and my missstrrresss wasss trrrying to prrrevent a grrreat trrragedy. It wasss the rrrealeassse of the drrragon you call Brrrin that led usss to wherrre we arrre now. Had he rrremained wherrre he wasss, the Grrreat Trrreee would ssstill be ssstanding, and you would not be in dangerrr now.”
“But Brin—”
“Yesss, yesss, ssso unfairrr forrr him, but betterrr that than the dessstrrruction of a whole people. He wasss too ssselfish to make the sssacrrrifice, but the missstrrresss thinksss you will not be. She ssseesss yourrr hearrrt isss good.”
“What does she want from me?”
“If it could be arrranged, would you come away with usss? If you will leave yourrr frrriendsss, leave yourrr family, all could be well again. You would not be harrrmed, and you could live yourrr life in full, ssso long asss you would agrrree to stay with the missstrrresss. She would sssee to yourrr comforrrt. She would keep you sssafe, keep everrryone sssafe.”
“I don’t know…” Holly’s head was spinning. Leave everyone behind? But what if what Dibbuc said was true? What if she could really fix all of this? “Maybe I should talk it over with my friends.”
“No, no! That you mussst not do! They would neverrr underrrssstand!”
“Holly? Holly, where are you?” Brint’s voice sounded harsh and stressed, and he was much too close.
“Think about what I have sssaid. You will be clearrr of the ssswamp today, but sssoon comesss the rrrock dessserrrt, and then you will be to the fairrriesss. We will come forrr you.” Dibbuc took wing and fluttered into the darkness.
“Holly!” Brint approached her and took her by the shoulders. “Didn’t you hear me calling you?”
“I’m sorry, Brint, I didn’t. My stomach was a little upset. I think I ate too many apples.” The lie slipped from her easily. Why didn’t she tell him? Because, she answered herself, she wanted to keep it to herself a while longer. For once in her life, she might actually find a way to make herself useful. Also, she agreed with Dibbuc—they would almost certainly try to talk her out of it.
Brint relaxed his grip on her and took a small step back. “Are you all right? I can ask Tabby if she has anything for your stomach.”
“No. I’m feeling better now.”
“Well, if you’re sure, but if you have any more trouble, you’ll tell me, won’t you?”
She nodded. “Let’s go back.” She slipped her hand in his. The elation on his face from her simple gesture was not lost on her. She felt terrible using his feelings for her in such a way, but it accomplished what she'd hoped it would, and he asked her no further questions as they made their way back.
***
Tabitha couldn’t remember ever feeling the level of relief she felt when they, at long last, came to the end of the swamp. The pools had dried up as suddenly as they had started. Before them, however, was not forest, but open prairie. The grass had yellowed, in keeping with the season, but Tabitha imagined it would be splashed with beautiful flowers in the summer.
Thanks to Holly’s creation of a soft rain, they were able to wash away the layers of dried mud and clay. It was a bit chilly for a while, until their clothes dried on them, but it felt marvelous to be relatively clean again.
There was one thing that kept them from feeling completely at ease, and it was the wisp of smoke they'd seen earlier in the day. Brint had said it was miles from them and way off to the east, so, if it was their pursuers, which he had to admit was likely, they still had at least two days in the swamp before they came out far from them.
They decided to make camp early. Just the thought of sleeping on dry ground again lifted their spirits, though Tabby had to admit she'd miss her pillow.
Tabitha held up the boots that had seen her through the last leg of their journey. They were beyond ruined. The leather would rot for sure. There was no time to dry them properly, and even if there had been, they were probably beyond salvaging. She was glad Brint had packed her second pair. She probably owed thanks to her mother for that; Dearra always insisted they take extra footwear. Leather boots weren’t something easily made in a hurry, and she said it was best to be prepared for any eventuality.
They dug a hole, buried their ruined boots, and covered the whole thing over with dead grass and stones. Just because the Etrafarians who followed them were far off, they couldn’t know for sure they wouldn’t come this way. Why take a chance?
After they'd eaten, Brint told them to get out their swords. There was plenty of daylight left to get in some practice.
Logan sprang up, obviously more than willing for a lesson, but Tabby’s heart sank. Why hadn’t she dropped the blasted thing when she had the chance? It would have been so easy.
Wait…why hadn’t she dropped it? She'd certainly meant to. As a matter of fact, she'd picked out the perfect spot, and no one had been looking—what had happened to stop her? She honestly couldn’t remember.
“For Cyrus’s sake, Tabby! Stop daydreaming!” Brint hollered at her.
“Sorry,” she said. She stepped toward Logan and lifted her blade into a fighting position. She remembered her days on the practice field when she'd quail each time her mother had even looked in her direction. There was no one more exacting when it came to swordsmanship, except maybe Uncle Daniel, but he never seemed to terrify her in the same way.
“Come on, Logan, get the blade up. You won’t hurt her,” Brint encouraged.
Holly spoke up from her place beside the fire. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea, Brint. Logan's only had a half-dozen lessons, and Tabby hasn’t held a sword since she was a little girl.”
“They aren’t going to learn in their sleep, Holly. Logan's better than you think, and Tabby will remember once she gets going. You concentrate on keeping the fire low. We don’t want our own smoke giving us away.”
Holly gave a little sniff, which Tabitha took to mean she didn’t like being relegated to cooking duties, but she turned her attention back to the fire and made no further comment.
Logan darted forward and playfully slapped at Tabitha’s blade. She brought it up enough to deflect the blow, but her grip was weak and she dropped it. Blushing, she bent to retrieve the sword.
“We do not have to do this, Tabitha,” Logan said. “I can practice with Brint, instead.”
“Tabby,” Brint said, putting an arm about her shoulders. “You can do this. I know you can. Think, Tabby: what would happen if we got into trouble? We’re not on Maj anymore. Wouldn’t you want to be able to help? Wouldn’t you want to be able to protect me, or Holly, or…Logan?” He wrinkled his nose when he said Logan’s name, and Tabby laughed at his obvious ploy.
“All right, all right. I’ll try, but if anyone laughs…”
Logan took up first position and gave her a little “come on” motion with his free hand.
“Ready or not,” she said, and lunged forward, driving him back on his heels.
Logan stepped wide and circled around, forcing her to turn in place to keep pace with him. He swung the sword in a lazy arc and she easily parried his move. She struck next with a series of rapid assaults, though there was little force behind them, as she was using muscles that she'd not called upon in a long time.
They spun and twirled and moved like that for some time. Brint would give instruction when he thought they needed it, but mostly he let them find their own way. Tabby supposed he was being easy on them so she wouldn’t become frustrated and quit.
Logan wasn’t bad at all. He lacked real skill, but she recognized he had an easy grace about his movements. He was conservative with his attacks, preferring to wait for a good opening before striking. Of course, practicing with real blades meant they had to be especially cautious. Normally, they would have used wooden practice blades. Two novices fumbling about with swords could be dangerous, but both of them were being careful with the other, until...
A devilish glint in Logan’s eye was the only warning she had. One moment he was before her, and the next he was sailing up and over her.
“No fair!” she yelled. She stumbled as she tried to get herself facing the right direction and landed on her hands and knees with her bottom sticking in the air, providing him with an easy target.
She looked over her shoulder in time to see him swing the flat of his blade to make the hit and…
Tabby found herself standing behind Logan. She used the broad side of her own sword, tapped his backside, and crowed, “Hah! Point to me!”
Logan turned around to face her, his mouth hanging open as if it had unhinged. Brint, likewise, was staring at her in shock, and poor Holly had managed to spill the entire contents of the stew pot into the dirt at her feet.
“What?” Tabby asked them. “What did I do?”
“That’s a very good question, sister. What did you do?”
“I—”
Tabitha ran it through her mind again. Logan had floated up and over her. She had tripped. She was going to take the hit, and then she had been behind him. How had she gotten behind him?
“I don’t know,” she said. “One moment I was down and then I was where I wanted to be. Maybe I got up and moved out of the way without realizing it,” she offered lamely.
“No way,” Brint said. “I was watching you the whole time. You were down. Logan had you and then you were just gone.”
“How could I do that?�
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“Can you do it again? That’s what I want to know,” Logan said with a grin. “Because if you can, that’s one hell of a Breken skill to have.”
“Breken?” Brint asked. “Tabby is female.”
“Yes, Brint, very good. Your sister is female, for which I find myself eternally grateful.”
Brint scowled at Logan, giving him his best Breken sneer. “You know what I mean. Girls, that is to say, women don’t have Breken abilities.”
“As I told Tabitha, they most certainly do. Usually, Breken abilities are related to fighting in some way. Breken women do not fight, so they can spend their whole lives in ignorance of their latent abilities. Occasionally, a skill will make itself known, but they keep it hidden out of a sense of self-preservation. Breken men do not tend to be a very open-minded group.”
“But…but she has no tattoo.”
“Masculine decoration, nothing more. Completely unnecessary.”
“Tabby? You knew all of this? Why didn’t you say something?”
“I didn’t think about it, Brint. I’m eighteen. If Logan was right, I assumed it would have shown up years ago—which it didn’t—so why think about it? Besides, maybe…maybe it was a fluke. It might not have anything at all to do with my Breken blood.”
“Maj women do a lot of popping in and out of existence, do they?” Logan gave her a wink.
“Try again, Tabby,” Holly said with enthusiasm.
“Try what? I don’t even know how I did it the first time.”
“Logan,” Brint said. “Try to hit her again.”
“Excuse me?”
“Not for real. Just, you know, make like you’re going to. Maybe it’s a defense mechanism.”
Tabitha shrugged and put her arms at her side, waiting for him to get on with it.
Logan looked unsure, but he half-heartedly swung the weapon at her, stopping a good foot short of the mark. Nothing happened.
“Okay, okay, so that won’t work,” Brint said. “She knows she’s not in any real jeopardy.”
“Well, I am not going to try and kill her to test your theory!”
Prophecy (The Destiny Series Book 4) Page 20