He turned to look at her, his face now as shadowed as his emotions. “What other choice do we have?” he asked. “This decision is too important, and I don't have the luxury of your power to know if someone is deceiving me. I have no way of knowing whom to trust. I have no way of knowing what Cal's motives are for wanting the position.”
“My power doesn't tell me who to trust,” she corrected him. “It doesn't allow me to see into the future or to know if someone will betray us. It only lets me feel other people's emotions. While I'm good at guessing what those emotions mean, I'm wrong at times. It would be foolish of me to trust people based on those guesses. Only three things can determine trust—time, knowledge, and intuition.”
She covered the distance between them so she stood in front of him, and then brought her fingers to his temple. “What does your mind tell you? You've known Cal a long time. What memories do you have of him? How has he treated you? These things will tell you the makeup of his character. But most importantly,” she dropped her hand to his chest, “they trigger your intuition. Your heart can understand the depth of a soul better than your brain can, and it's faster about it. So what does your heart say?”
“It says I'm betraying him by thinking this way. He's always been there for me. Even now, he's the only one who knows where we're hiding and he risks his life to keep that secret. He's a good man.” Nick turned his eyes toward the distant village. “But so was Angus. Or so I thought.”
His sorrow washed over Meaghan. She brought her arms around his neck. “I'm sorry,” she whispered. “I know how much you've lost because of Garon, but don't let him take Cal from you, too. Cal loves you. You don't need a power to see that. And you don't need a power to know his motive for wanting the position. It's the same reason he brings us supplies, and the same reason he led us through the wilderness when we first arrived in Ærenden. Think about it. Would he even want the position if you weren't the King? He isn't exactly the political type.”
Nick pulled her closer. “I hadn't thought of it that way. Cal isn't a fan of following protocol or diplomacy. I'm sure he would do a great job, but,” he hesitated.
“But it'll be a little like watching a walrus learn to walk a tightrope,” Meaghan offered and grinned. “He definitely won't relish the position, so why do you think he wants it?”
“Because he's as worried about history repeating itself as I am,” Nick said. “The only way he can know for certain our advisor is trustworthy is by filling the position himself. He's trying to protect me.”
“I believe so. It's certainly easier for him to do that at your side.”
“You're right,” he said and relaxed his hold, shifting back to look at her. “Maybe we don't need an advisor after all. You seem to have the wisdom part down.”
“Sure I do, which is why we're making our way through the dark instead of enjoying a party in the village.”
He started laughing, and for a moment, life seemed as carefree as it had on Earth. She lifted her lips to his, relishing in his stiff surprise at first, and then in the urgency following it. He seemed hungry, devouring her in his warmth and need, and she drew their kiss deeper. Heat raged within her. Her fingers found his hair. She closed her eyes, then the sound of a cannon echoed in the distance and she remembered where they stood—vulnerable in an open field, exposed despite the cover of dark. She broke their connection, whipping around when a second cannon exploded behind them. A ball of blue light burst over the distant village and she realized it had not been a cannon, but something else.
The brightly colored balls following the first brought a smile to her face. “Are those fireworks?” she asked.
Nick's grin served as his answer. Slipping his arms around her waist, he turned her so she could see more of them, though they took on shapes she had never seen displayed in the skies of Earth. Flowers and stars morphed into animals, then faded as more orbs filled the sky, lighting up the night with elaborate scenes. Trailing blue painted the outline of a castle. Red men rode by on yellow horses. Two figures appeared, and then streams of color emanated from them and joined to represent a wedding.
“Your ancestors,” Nick said.
The images disappeared, replaced by more orbs and pictures. Some depicted scenes from history—the construction of the first village, the anointing of the first Elder council, the signing of the Zeiihbu treaty—while others leapt into the sky as streaks of color or simple designs. When twenty orbs launched upward, higher and faster than the ones before them, Meaghan realized the finale had come. The orbs exploded into flashes of green, red, and blue, and then showered the night with sparkling gold.
“It's so beautiful,” she said. “I'm glad we didn't miss it.”
“It's not quite done,” Nick told her and no sooner had he spoken than the last of the gold joined together, forming words in the sky. The words held steady for a moment before dissolving, then reappearing as new words. Three times more it happened until a message became clear.
“Long life. Peaceful journeys,” Nick read aloud. “Our allegiance to the Queen. Welcome home.”
Meaghan tensed. “They knew I was there?”
“Not at all. The first three lines are tradition. The last is for you, for this year.”
“That's incredible.” She relaxed again. “We're pretty far from the village. The fireworks must look huge there.”
“Massive,” Nick said. “And they're launched high so the whole sky lights up. It's awe inspiring.”
“Incredible,” she repeated and then frowned as a thought occurred to her. “How is that safe?”
“We've been making fireworks for hundreds of years, Meg. There are safety protocols.”
“That's not what I meant.” She stepped back, scanning the field for movement. “On a clear night like tonight, the fireworks would've been visible for miles. There must be Mardróch around.”
“Only the people who've been invited into the village can see it,” Nick told her. “The protection spell is still in effect.”
“The invisibility spell stretches into the sky? How far up does it go?”
“It's not an invisibility spell. Invisibility doesn't offer enough protection.”
“Then how does it work?”
“It changes a person's perception. Everyone under the influence of the spell can see the village. They just don't realize they can.”
Meaghan mulled over his words, trying to fit them into her own knowledge. “Are you saying the spell essentially hypnotizes a person into seeing nothing?”
“In a way. The spell also covers anything that comes from the village, like the light and sound fireworks emit.”
“That makes sense,” Meaghan decided. “But I don't see how people don't stumble into the village. They might be convinced they don't see anything, but they'd know if they ran into a wall.”
“They can't get close enough for that to happen,” Nick said. “The spell convinces them to avoid the area. The crystals protecting our cabin work the same way.”
“You mean people alter their intended course without realizing it? How is that possible? I'd think they'd notice.”
Nick shrugged. “You haven't.”
“I haven't what?”
“Noticed we've deviated from our course. When we started walking tonight, the village was directly behind us. Now it's to our left.” He pointed to a plot of land shadowed from the moonlight by several large oak trees. “You've already started avoiding that area. You did it last time we traveled this route, too.”
She concentrated on the spot Nick had indicated, trying to see anything unusual hidden among the patches of brown dirt and brittle yellow grass, but found nothing but weeds. She never would have guessed anything was there. Yet Nick had known.
“You can see it,” she realized.
“Guardians don't just protect people,” he told her. “What's hidden behind the spell here is an ancient residence. Cal guards it, and he welcomed me to see it last night while you slept.”
“Welc
omed you?”
“Like I welcomed you when we arrived at my village, and like Neiszhe did when we arrived at hers the first time. Taking your hand and saying the words of welcome lifts the spell. The spell then recognizes you as a resident, and as such, you can welcome others to see the unseen.”
“Which leaves the villages vulnerable,” she said. Her mind flashed back to the night of the attack on Nick's village, to the screams of pain she had heard and felt. If Abbott had been the traitor, the single act of allowing him into the village in the effort to save his life had cost the lives of many. It would be a tough decision to make, but each villager would have to bear the weight of it. They had to decide between welcoming others or turning from them, letting wanderers starve in the wilderness and strangers die from their wounds, or risking the lives of neighbors and friends in an act of kindness. And if they made the wrong call, they would live with the guilt of that for the rest of their lives.
Meaghan understood why trust would be hard to come by on this world, even for those who did not rule the kingdom. Sadness washed through her with the realization, but fear replaced it when a darker thought embraced her.
“Angus must have access to most of the villages,” she said.
“He had access to some, but those have already been destroyed,” Nick said and his grief brought tears to her eyes. She refocused her power on the doll to prevent the emotion from overwhelming her. “The Guardians were able to evacuate the majority of them in time.”
“How many were lost?”
“Seven villages,” he responded. “Thirty lives. Fortunately, Angus didn't travel much after your parents were killed. If he had, we would've lost more.”
“And what about Garon?” she asked. “What's taken him so long to attack the villages? As the King and Queen's advisor, he must have learned all of their locations.”
“I'm sure he did,” Nick said, and surprised her by grinning. “But he's never been welcomed into any of them.”
Meaghan frowned at the field again where Nick had pointed. “I'm confused. If he knows where they are, how can he not see them?”
“You know there's something in the field, but you can't see it. The spell has to recognize you in order for you to see what it's hiding.”
“I still don't understand.”
“We didn't start using the protection spell until after he came into power, at least not for villages.” He took Meaghan's hand and started walking across the field, toward the location of the ancient residence. “When the kingdom was formed, the first King and Queen had the spell written to give them time to establish peace. There are several variations of the spell. The simplest one protects important structures like this. The one offering the highest protection takes a large amount of power to enact and restricts the villagers' movement too much to allow for regular living.”
“You mean the variation the Elders use for the caves,” Meaghan said.
“Yes. It's the only version of the spell that won't allow people back into the barrier once they leave, and only those who are greeted with a special welcome can invite others beyond the barrier.”
Meaghan nodded, though her head almost seemed too heavy to move and her thoughts grew fuzzier with each step. Panic set in as she fought the urge to move in another direction.
“The spell variations in between extend the protective barrier for the villages, from several yards to a quarter mile. The largest boundary is used for the villages most likely to be attacked, like Guardian villages.”
“You've led me past the boundary now,” Meaghan guessed, forcing the words past her lips. “It's nearly impossible to move.”
Nick nodded and she planted her feet, wrenching her hand from his grasp. She could not stand the thought of taking another step. “I understand now how others don't get close,” she said. “I wouldn't have if you hadn't forced me to, but what I don't understand is what prevents Garon from camping his monsters by the villages until someone leaves. The Mardróch would have no qualms about torturing someone into inviting them in.”
“True,” Nick agreed. “But it would take a lot of manpower for him to camp in front of every one of them. His army's not big enough to do that. Instead, he sends his Mardróch to wander in the areas where he once saw the villages or where the maps say they're supposed to be. The odds are in our favor that he won't find them without inside help.”
“That sounds too much like you're gambling with people's lives,” Meaghan responded. “Even if the odds are low, they aren't zero. Garon might still find the villages.”
“That's why previously established villages like Neiszhe's are given the quarter mile protection.”
“We were closer than that the first time we visited Neiszhe's village,” Meaghan pointed out. “If the spell is supposed to prevent that, how did we get so close?”
“The same way you're currently standing within a protective boundary,” Nick told her. “I can see it, so I can lead you to it. Cal led us to Neiszhe's village. Even with his guidance, breaking the barrier wasn't easy. You were too drugged to feel it, but every step I took felt like fighting a strong current.”
She nodded. “How close am I to the residence?”
“Practically next to it.” He smiled. “You are welcome here.”
With those words, the outline of a building shimmered into view.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
IN THE pale stream of moonlight, the single-room home appeared almost black, its broken walls rising into the sky like craggy hands welcoming the stars. One small window faced east. Another faced west, though it had lost its support and now gaped open, a wide mouth swallowing the night air. And a fireplace sought refuge to the south, its chimney a haphazard column, bent and twisted on the ground. Beyond the main structure, a low stone wall indicated another residence had not survived, and behind that, scattered stone seemed to be all that remained of a third. Weather and vandals had taken what they could over time, and Meaghan doubted anything would remain now had the protection spell not been cast.
She stepped over a pile of broken slate, the apparent remnants of a roof, to examine the bricks forming the moss-covered walls. Instead of having the uniform appearance of the stone she had seen in the villages, they were cobbled together from varying sizes of river rock and coquina, a limestone and shell mixture she recognized from a trip to Florida she had taken as a child.
“Is there an ocean nearby?” she asked Nick in surprise.
Nick shook his head. “No, but an inlet used to cover most of this area. It receded so fast we assume some form of magic caused it.”
“Why would anyone do that?”
“It's possible the southern tribes wanted more land. Moving the ocean allowed them to push north.” He picked up a small shell and examined it. “Unfortunately, it also created the Barren Lands, and it had a cultural impact. Before then, the tribes in the north and south were separated.”
“And after?”
He cast the shell aside. “They fought. At first over the land, and then because hate became a tradition. The skirmishes didn't stop until the kingdom was formed.”
“So this house pre-dates the kingdom?” Meaghan asked. “How old is it?”
“Thousands of years. It's the oldest known residence in Ærenden.”
“Amazing,” she said, and trailed her hand along the stone, tracing the dry grit of too many years of dirt before stopping at a beam of petrified timber, one of three outlining the residence's doorway. She curled her fingers around it, and then yanked her hand back when a vibration snaked up her arm.
“It's,” she narrowed her eyes at the stone as she sought the right word. “Moving.”
Nick took her hand in his and placed it back on the wall. The vibration grew stronger, nearly pulsing against her skin. “It's magic,” he said. “It's responding to your power. Close your eyes.”
She did as he told her, smiling when the vibrations eased along her arm and joined the warmth residing beside her heart. Soon she could focus on little el
se but the heat emanating into her and returning from her power in response.
“The power comes from nature,” Nick spoke against her ear. “Over the years, it's made the house a conduit.” Gently, he pried her hand from the wall, breaking the connection. “Being tapped into the core of our power feels amazing, but it's easy to get lost in it. The first time I visited one of these structures, I stood transfixed by it for an hour. We don't have time for that tonight.”
“I guess not.” Meaghan curled her fingers over her palm, savoring the humming still vibrating along her skin. “Could the power be protecting the building?”
“I believe so. Not every building can funnel power, and the ones that do often survive longer than they should.”
“What makes them so special?”
“Their history,” he said, taking her hand and pulling her through the door. “Each of them has come in contact with a Spellmaster.”
Bracketing her shoulders, he turned her in a slow circle so she could see the walls along the interior of the house. Lines covered every inch of available space. She did not recognize the markings, but she had no doubt they represented letters and words. She approached the closest wall and traced her fingers along what she guessed was a sentence. Bumps and knife indentations pushed against her skin.
“Are you sure this place is thousands of years old?” she asked, dropping her arm when the vibration started again.
“Give or take a century,” Nick responded.
“How long has the roof been gone?”
“At least a few hundred years, by Cal's estimation.”
Meaghan frowned and traced her index finger over the sentence once more, certain the deep grooves had been her imagination. “This shouldn't be here,” she said. “Wind, rain, snow—all of it should have erased this long before now.”
“I know. Yet it is. There are dozens of structures like this across the kingdom. Original spells cover all of them. My mother and I used to guard a granite pillar that remained exposed to the elements for a thousand years. The carvings looked to be no more than a few months old.”
Aerenden: The Gildonae Alliance (Ærenden Book 2) Page 12