“It is,” he confirmed. “But my dad's the only Healer in the area. I suppose I could have apprenticed with him, but I wanted the chance to explore the kingdom.”
“During a war?” Nick pressed. “That's risky. I wouldn't have expected the Elders to approve your request.”
Mycale shrugged. “I don't answer to them. I'm not a Guardian.”
“Yet you're training under a Guardian.”
“I didn't have much of a choice,” Mycale said, and irritation emanated from him, though he did not show it. “There aren't many Healers who aren't Guardians, and since Cal served with my father in the royal army, Neiszhe offered to apprentice me.”
“Is it rare for a Healer not to be a Guardian?” Meaghan asked.
“Apparently,” Mycale said. “Though I didn't realize it until the time came for me to apprentice. My father and I are the only ones.”
Nick cocked his head, studying the younger man. “But you said your father was in the army. He has to be a Guardian.”
“He was once, but he isn't anymore. He hasn't been since soon after the war started.”
“Wait,” Nick said, frowning. “You mean your father is Darvin?”
Mycale's eyes grew wide. “You know my father?”
“I've heard stories.”
“What have you heard?”
“Nothing of significance,” Nick told him. “I know he's the only Guardian to ask the Elders to strip him of his powers, though no one knows why. Is that true?”
“Yes,” Mycale confirmed.
“I thought as much. Everything else I know is based on rumor. You wouldn't want to hear it.”
“I'm sure I already have,” Mycale said. He pulled his hands from his pockets and tightened them into fists. “People say he worked with Garon to kill the Queen and King and later regretted it or that he secretly knew my mother before they wed and didn't want to admit he broke the rule. They also say he went crazy, killing everyone in sight, but the Elders didn't have enough proof to throw him in jail. Are there any new ones?”
Nick shook his head. “That pretty much covers it.”
“My father's a good man. He wouldn't do any of those things.”
“If Cal let you work with his wife, I'm sure he wouldn't,” Nick said and laid a hand on Mycale's arm. “You came here hoping to learn the truth, didn't you? You thought Cal would know the reason your father had his powers stripped.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Mycale confessed. “But he didn't know.” His deceit disappeared, replaced by shame. Relieved his emotions had not represented any threat, Meaghan refocused her power on the doll. Although she had managed to keep the crowd's emotions at bay, her vision had begun to haze from the energy it had taken to perform the task. She closed her eyes. The world tilted, and then hands gripped her shoulders, steadying her.
“That's odd,” Mycale said. His voice came from next to her ear and she realized the hands belonged to him. His hold tightened. “I sense exhaustion. That doesn't make any sense. Did she rest before she came here?”
An arm looped around her waist, and Mycale's hands disappeared. “All afternoon,” Nick muttered. “I think I'd better take her back to the guest cottage.”
“I'm fine,” she protested and forced her eyes open. “I want to stay. I don't want to miss the festival.”
“You should have thought of that before,” Nick said, and the anger in his voice told her he realized what she had done.
“Before what?” Mycale asked.
“Nothing.” Nick shifted the pressure of his arm, pulling Meaghan away from the crowd, toward the cottage. “She's had too much juice, that's all.”
“She's not drunk,” Mycale protested. “I'd be able to sense that. It feels more like she ran through a training course.”
“She's just tired,” Nick said, quickening his pace. “I'm going to take her—”
Mycale locked a hand on Nick's arm, forcing him to stop. “You aren't taking her anywhere,” he insisted and the crowd around them backed away, clearing a circle in anticipation of a fight. “She's still my patient. I refuse to let you put her in danger.”
“She's not in danger.” Shaking off Mycale's hand, Nick started moving again. A hush fell over the crowd as a dozen pairs of eyes locked on Meaghan. “I'm her husband. I know how to take care of her.”
Mycale moved around them, and then stood his ground, blocking their path. “She needs medical attention. You can't help her with that.”
“Looks like we have our first juice fight,” a loud voice boomed from across the street. The crowd parted and Cal made his way through. Though his words sounded slurred, evidence of his own celebratory drinking, he maintained complete control of his movements and the anger sparking heat in his eyes. He grabbed Mycale by the scruff of the neck. “How much have you had, lad?”
“I haven't had any. Nick's trying to—”
“Not a sip,” Cal said and chuckled. Those in the crowd closest to him did the same. “That's always the story of new drinkers, isn't it?” More people joined in on the laughter. “I guess I'd better take him back to Neiszhe's to sober up.” He turned his focus toward Nick and faked a grin. “Her too?”
“Looks like it,” Nick responded, adding levity to his own voice. “Adara can't hold her juice.”
“Must run in the family. Neiszhe can't either. Come along,” Cal said and ignoring Mycale's sputtering, he dragged the young man down the street.
§
“I'M NOT drunk!” Mycale protested when Cal finally let him go. He brought a hand to the back of his neck and rubbed at the red marks Meaghan had no doubt would bruise by morning. “I swear. I didn't have anything to drink. Neiszhe, tell him.”
Rather than respond, Neiszhe stood in the doorway to the kitchen, shaking her head. Her eyes darted from Mycale to Cal, and then to Meaghan as Nick deposited her on the couch.
“Tell him,” Mycale begged again. “He thinks—”
“He doesn't,” Neiszhe said when her eyes came to rest on the young man. “Cal knows drunk. He doesn't need me to tell him who is and isn't.” She returned her gaze to her husband. “What happened?”
Cal shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. Everyone was having a good time, and then Nick and Mycale decided to get into a fight. The crowd was ready for the entertainment, so they dropped whatever they were doing to watch. I had to come up with a reason for the spat so no one would gossip about it.”
Neiszhe crossed her arms over her chest.
“Okay, so they won't gossip as much as they would if they'd guessed the truth. Drunk is a regular excuse for the festival. I figured it was the best way to go.”
“We didn't decide to get into a fight,” Nick said. “I was trying to get her out of there and Mycale felt it appropriate to stop me.”
Mycale's cheeks flashed almost as red as his hair. He spun around to face Nick. “I wouldn't have needed to if you had let me look at her. We don't know what happened to her. Until we know, she needs to be under the care of a Healer. It's my job to protect her.”
“I know how to protect her far better than you ever could. You have no idea how much danger you put her in by—”
“And this is why Healers and Guardians are usually one and the same,” Cal interrupted.
Mycale's attention shot to Cal. His eyes grew wide. “What did you say?”
“When you first arrived, you asked me why there are no other Healers who aren't Guardians. This is why. The power evolved that way to prevent Healers and Guardians from killing each other. Both positions instill protectiveness. You got the power from your father because he was a Guardian. Otherwise, you wouldn't be a Healer.”
“I don't understand.” Mycale's gaze traveled back to Nick. “But that means—”
“He's her Guardian,” Cal finished for him.
Mycale's brows knit together. “Why would you lie to me about that?”
“We did it to protect them, and you. But now you know and your life will depend on keeping their secret.”
; “What secret?” Mycale backed up against an armchair and lowered into it. “Why would my life depend on me not telling anyone he's a Guardian?”
“Because he's May's son,” Neiszhe responded when everyone else remained silent. She let out a long sigh then pressed a hand to her stomach and addressed Cal. “There's a pot of jicab tea ready on the stove. Would you get it for me, please? Bring three mugs. It looks like Meaghan needs some. I'm feeling nauseous, and I'm fairly certain we're about to put Mycale in shock.”
Cal nodded and disappeared behind his wife into the kitchen.
“May,” Mycale echoed. “Do you mean the Healer who visited my father last year?”
“One and the same,” Neiszhe said.
“So that would make Nick...oh no,” Mycale's eyes jerked toward the couch, then widened. “You called her Meaghan. She's Queen Meaghan.”
“And there you have it,” Cal said from the kitchen doorway. He moved around Neiszhe to place a tray on the coffee table. On top of the tray sat four mugs and a tea pot. “So now you know why we're not concerned about her current bout of exhaustion. This isn't the first time her empath power has gotten the best of her.”
“It didn't,” Meaghan protested. Her dizziness had subsided and she smiled with pride for her accomplishment. “It went better than we expected. I held control the entire time.”
“Is that so? Then why aren't you still at the festival?”
“Because she took a risk she shouldn't have,” Nick told him. When she opened her mouth to argue, he shot her a look that silenced her. “She tried focusing her power on people instead of the doll. She wasn't ready, and after her healing, she didn't have the energy for it.”
“Headstrong and foolish,” Cal decided. “Maybe you're not a whole lot different from your mother after all.”
Meaghan narrowed her eyes into a glare in response, but he ignored her in favor of pouring tea into mugs. He handed the first to her. “Drink up. After the fiasco tonight, you'll need to head back home. Remember that when you're traipsing through two feet of snow instead of enjoying the rest of the festival.”
Cal's words erased her pride. She risked a glimpse at Nick, saw the disappointment on his face, and felt even worse for breaking her promise. They could have had a few days around other people, but now they would have to go back to the cabin, and their solitude. She stared into her cup and realized it was not just foolishness that had gripped her, but selfishness.
One look around the room confirmed how miserable her actions had made everyone. Cal looked weary and angry. He had seemed excited to spend time with Nick. Now he would not have the chance. Neiszhe not only appeared nauseous, but worried. She cast her eyes toward the source of that worry—Mycale. Her intent had been to keep her apprentice out of the danger Meaghan had forced upon him. Her mug shook in her hands, spilling hot liquid onto her skin. She closed her eyes, ignoring the sharp pain it brought.
“The tea's not going to do you any good if you don't drink it,” Nick said. When she did not respond, he draped an arm around her shoulders and drew her close. “We need you to think about these things because you put yourself in danger when you do them. But we don't want you to feel this bad.”
She heard Cal chuckle and opened her eyes. “We've all done it,” he told her. “You're getting the crash course on power management, so things are a little more difficult for you, but you can't make mistakes we haven't made. And I guarantee you'll never make a mistake as big as I did.”
She shook her head. “I'm sure your mistakes never put people in danger like mine do.”
“Oh no?” He raised an eyebrow. “Do you really think the elements are safe to control? Or I should say, to lose control over?”
“I hadn't thought about it.”
“I hadn't either when I first started training with my powers. I wanted to learn everything at once, but the instructors insisted I learn to manage the elements one at a time, starting with earth and moving up to wind. I was certain they didn't know what they were talking about. I couldn't create wind, but I had been told I could harness it and one blustery day I decided to give it a try. I grabbed hold of the wind, commanded it to follow where I wanted it to go, and for a while, it did.”
“Then what happened?” Neiszhe asked.
“I wasn't strong enough. The wind started swirling together, and the next thing I knew, it had taken on a life of its own. My tornado lasted five minutes and destroyed three buildings.” He raised an eyebrow and a half-smile at Meaghan. “I highly doubt your empath power can do that.”
Meaghan laughed. “I guess not, but I'll be more careful from now on, just in case.”
“Pay attention to Nick,” Cal said, turning serious again. “He's a good teacher, but you have to listen to him.”
“I will,” she promised. “You've made your point. I just wish I'd learned it before I ruined our visit.”
“It's not ruined,” Nick told her. “The timing's right for your plan. I think we should make the detour before we head home.”
“What plan?” Cal asked.
“Stop by the guest cottage tomorrow and I'll tell you. We'll hide out there during the day and take off at nightfall. It should be easy enough to sneak out during the festivities. How long is the festival this year?”
“A week,” Cal answered. “In honor of the Queen's return. Although, to be honest, I'm not sure how many people will still be conscious enough to celebrate after more than a few days of eating and drinking.”
Nick chuckled and stood. Offering Meaghan a hand, he pulled her to her feet. “I'll take Meaghan to the cottage. She needs sleep.” He turned to Mycale. “I trust there are no objections this time?”
Mycale shook his head. “I'm too confused to object.”
“Don't worry,” Neiszhe said. “I'll explain it all, but first,” she handed her empty mug to Cal. “I'll take a refill. It's going to be a long night.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THE VILLAGE retreated behind them. Meaghan turned and cast a longing glance toward the rows of charming houses. After nightfall, the villagers had strung lanterns along the streets, which now cast a glow into the sky. Laughter floated across the air, mixing with the first notes of a spirited song. A full band played tonight. There would be dancing and more food than her stomach could handle. She adjusted the backpack on her shoulders and thought about the dinner awaiting them. Cold ambercat. Again.
At least they had been able to enjoy the warm roast for lunch. It was the last of the food they had in their supplies, and though Cal promised to deliver more before they returned to the cabin, what he brought would pale in comparison to the offerings at the festival. She sighed and turned back around. She had learned her lesson tenfold this time.
Nick's hand sought hers. “There'll be other festivals,” he said, and though she knew he had intended his words to make her feel better, they did not help. She squeezed his hand and let it go.
“My mother once told me the castle threw a huge festival,” he continued. “Probably five times the size of this one. The King and Queen brought in food from every area of the kingdom and invited the best entertainers to perform. People talked about it for weeks after.”
“I'm sure they did.”
“We should revive the tradition once we return to the castle. Maybe we could even make it bigger than your parents did.”
That suggestion made her feel better. The thought of watching the people of Ærenden at the biggest festival they had ever seen warmed her. She could picture them dancing, the weariness on their faces and the grief in their eyes erased with the joy of celebration. It would be the perfect time to honor their survival and their sacrifice, to remind them they had held the kingdom together despite Garon's attempts to tear it apart.
“I'd really like that,” she responded.
“Good.” Nick smiled, and then focused his eyes on the horizon. Her gaze trailed after his. The field stretched before them, a deep ocean of grass under a river of stars, and she watched it dissolve into the
eclipsing black. When Nick spoke again, his voice had turned into a near whisper and she realized he did not want their conversation to travel ahead of them. “It's odd,” he said. “I never expected to be doing this. I never thought I'd have to worry about morale or decisions that could potentially destroy their lives.”
“What do you mean?” Meaghan asked. She stopped and laid a hand on his arm, prompting him to halt beside her.
“There are a lot of decisions we'll be making as King and Queen. Decisions that affect everyone, that could help us succeed. Or fail.”
“Like our plan for tomorrow,” she guessed.
“Yes,” he agreed. “That's one. Another is appointing our advisor. It's a position that's second to ours. Whomever we choose will have access to everything we do, including secrets no one else will know. He or she will make decisions for us when we're not around, and give advice.”
“It's a lot of responsibility for one person,” Meaghan said. Nick continued walking. She followed. “And a lot of power,” she added, realizing the root of his worry. “Do you think we'll make the same mistake my mother did?”
He slid his hands into his pockets. “Before we left, Cal asked me to consider him for the role. It's our decision to make together, of course, but,” he shrugged.
“He's a good choice,” she offered. “I'd agree if you wanted him. You've known him your whole life. He's trustworthy.”
“Everyone thought Garon was, too. Your mother chose him when she took the throne because the Elders recommended him. She chose him because he grew up with Cal, Sam, and my mother. They vouched for him. None of them thought him capable of murder.”
“So we need to second guess everyone now?” Meaghan asked. When Nick did not respond, she released her control over her power and cast it toward him. Although Nick took care to hide his fear, it flowed as a dark undercurrent within him. “Nick,” she said and waited for his feet to still before speaking again. “Don't do this. I know we have to be careful in our positions, but we can't live by distrust.”
Aerenden: The Gildonae Alliance (Ærenden Book 2) Page 11