“It's good to see you again,” the man said, his words contradicting the hardness Meaghan saw in his eyes. She drew her mug up to cover her surprise. After Ree's warm reception, she had not expected a chilly one from Faillen. Removing her empath power from the corn husk doll, Meaghan allowed it to roam the room. Displeasure emanated from Faillen, as well as a deep sadness she had not expected.
“It's nice to see you too,” Nick responded. Caution hid behind his words and Meaghan realized he had also picked up on Faillen's mood.
Faillen turned toward his eldest son. “Clean the foxes, Caide, and hang them in the third hut. Take your brother with you.”
“But I'm learning to read Æren,” Aldin protested. “I want to make fireworks.”
“Fireworks?” Faillen asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Colorful fireballs,” Aldin informed him. “Nick said I could do them once I learned all my Æren words. Can I, Dat? Mata said it was okay.”
“Of course,” Faillen said. “Take the book with you. Caide knows it well enough to continue your lesson once he's done with his chores. Will you go with them, Ree?”
Ree pursed her lips in response, and Meaghan sensed anger from her, but the woman did not show it. She only nodded, and stood. Aldin followed her lead. After picking up the book, he scurried outside after his brother. Ree left last, closing the door behind her.
Meaghan turned her power onto Faillen as she had Mycale in the village, hoping the concentrated focus would allow her to catch even the smallest of Faillen's cues. It only took a minute for Nick's emotions to disappear. Without the added distraction, she sensed fear in Faillen, though she had not noticed it before.
Faillen crossed the room to a standing perch in the corner and held his arm up to it. The bird stepped onto the perch and Faillen clipped an ankle bracelet to its leg. He reached into a pouch at his side, pulled out a hunk of raw meat, and then fed it to the bird.
“Good girl, Scree,” he said, running the tip of his index finger over the gold feathers covering her head.
“Scree?” Meaghan asked. The bird opened its beak and released a high-pitched call reminiscent of an extended version of its name. “Oh.” Meaghan laughed. “I get it.”
Faillen reached into his pouch and pulled out a larger hunk of meat, giving it to the bird before returning to the table. He dropped into the seat next to Nick. “I was eight when my father gave her to me. It seemed appropriate at the time.”
The discontent in him grew and Meaghan frowned. “You aren't pleased to see us,” she said. “Please stop pretending otherwise.”
Faillen's shoulders stiffened and he crossed his arms over the table, though guilt gripped him instead of anger. “Is there anything your power doesn't sense?” he asked.
“The truth behind the emotions. Especially when they're so conflicted.”
“You sense even my torment,” he said, and glanced at the bird again. Scree held the hunk of meat in her untethered claw as she tore small bits from it with the point of her beak. “Have you heard of my type of bird? Most people never get the opportunity to see one.”
“She looks like a falcon,” Meaghan answered. The conflicted emotions in him settled, subdued by fondness for the bird, and she followed his lead in the conversation. “She's about the size and coloring of one, except for the gold. Where I grew up, there aren't any birds like her.”
“No, there wouldn't be,” he said, looking back at her. “The species is only found in the mountains separating Zeiihbu from the Barren Lands.” He nodded at Nick. “I trust you know what she is?”
“I do,” Nick responded. His eyes remained locked on the creature. “But I thought the gildonae had gone extinct.”
“They nearly have. We used to train them as hunting birds because of their abilities, but they don't breed in captivity so we've since made the practice illegal. I keep Scree because she's known no other life since she was a chick.”
“Abilities?” Nick asked. “You mean they have powers?”
“They have unnatural speed and they can smell prey for miles. I can only assume those are powers.” Faillen smiled at Meaghan. “Her tuft isn't the only thing that's gold.”
Meaghan turned her attention back to the bird in time to see her preening her wings. The feathers on the underside of both wings gleamed bright gold. When she flicked her tail into the air, Meaghan also saw a gilded sheen.
“Beautiful,” she whispered.
“She is. I use her to carry messages. My father and I have been sending her back and forth with updates since I've been here.” Faillen brought his eyes to Meaghan's and the sadness returned to him. “I can't send her back this time. It's not safe.”
“Why not?”
“For the same reason I can no longer uphold the promise I made to you the last time you were here. Garon has taken over Zeiihbu. He put a Mardróch by the name of Stilgan in charge.” Nick hissed out a breath and Faillen raised an eyebrow at him. “You've heard of him?”
“Unfortunately,” Nick responded, the heat in his voice reflecting his anger. “He was one of the best generals in the royal army. I understand Garon turned him early.”
“Cal said as much, though he wouldn't talk about it. Stilgan's smarter than most Mardróch and no less cruel. He's been torturing and killing Zeiihbuans since his arrival, with the purpose of forcing my father to make a choice between the Ærenden treaty and the lives of our people. It's not much of a choice. Zeiihbu has now joined forces with Garon.”
“Garon will destroy everyone,” Nick warned him. “He'll use your people to win the war and then he'll dispose of them.”
“He promised my father immunity,” Faillen said. “Our people will become a permanent part of Garon's army after the war, but they'll be alive.”
“As slaves,” Nick said. “That's not a life.”
Faillen cast his eyes down. “What else can we do? Mardróch overrun the country and our best warriors are under Stilgan's power. He can hypnotize people into doing his bidding.”
“Your father, too?” Meaghan asked.
Faillen shook his head. “Garon needs my father to act willingly for now. Our people will follow his decision if they know it's truly his.”
“So your father has made his choice,” Nick said. “But you can still honor your pact with Meaghan. Your father's actions don't break that.”
“I've made my choice, too,” Faillen replied. His voice grew soft, but he held it strong. “Garon will not honor his promise to my father unless I return home.”
“You don't want to,” Meaghan said. The surge of guilt and sadness within him swelled. “Does Ree know about this? I sensed anger in her before, but not until you asked her to leave the room. I would have expected more from her if she knew what you had decided.”
“She doesn't know. She won't agree with my decision, but I have to follow Garon's summons. I won't cause the deaths of my people.”
“There's another option,” Meaghan told him. Hope sparked within him and she realized this would be the only chance she would get to convince him of her plan. “We have the power to defeat Garon, all of us, if we work together. We want you to lead our army.”
Faillen stared at her, his emotions as blank as his face. Shock had overwhelmed everything else. “Your army?” he finally mustered. “The royal army?”
“Not just the royal army,” Nick said. “Our villagers have been fighting this war, though they aren't properly trained. It's time to make them part of the army, train them, and give them the chance to succeed. You can train an army, and you have the wisdom of your people, the advantage of knowing generations of strategies for combat. It's why Zeiihbu and the royal army were evenly matched in battle. Imagine how unstoppable we could be if we joined our powers with your tactics.”
He could imagine it. Meaghan sensed his hope growing and knew he envisioned the same success she had seen. But as fast as the hope flourished, he killed it. “I can't,” he said, and sorrow filled him at the decree. “It will take too long to tra
in them. Garon will learn of my hand in the betrayal, and there'll be nothing left of Zeiihbu by the time the war is over.”
“So you'll go home,” Meaghan said. “And you'll live under Garon's rule and wonder if you could've made a difference for a better world.”
He nodded. Closing his eyes, he sighed. “I wish it could be another way.”
“And your sons?” Nick asked. “What will happen to them?”
“They'll be cared for,” Faillen told him, opening his eyes. “Garon wants Caide to study under him, to become his second in command. I'm sure he'll also want Aldin when he realizes his power is the same.”
His fear blossomed and Meaghan understood. “He's going to take them away from you,” she said. “He won't let you live if he does. It'll be the only way to ensure you don't try to reclaim them.”
“I know,” Faillen said. “He'll kill Ree, too, if I let her come back with me. But I love her too much to allow that to happen. She'll remain here. Cal promised me he'd look after her.”
Meaghan stared at him. She could not imagine being in his position, forced to sacrifice his children and his life, to abandon his wife in exchange for saving the lives of thousands. She would not have wanted to make the decision, and yet deep within her, she believed he had made the wrong choice. She was not the only one who thought so, she realized, when a flood of strong emotions broke through her focus on Faillen. Grief, horror, fear, and anger surged from outside. Meaghan's eyes shot to the door and she realized it had remained open a crack. Ree stormed into the room, her cheeks red beneath a wash of tears. Faillen stood to face her.
“How dare you!” she screamed. He caught her in his arms. Her fists found his chest and she pounded against it, her grief erasing all other emotions. “You can't do this. Take their offer. Fight him. You have to.”
“I can't,” Faillen whispered. Ree's pounding slowed and he drew her into his embrace, into the warmth of his body and his shared grief. “We can't let everyone die for us.”
“My boys,” she wailed. “Don't take them. Don't go. Please don't do this.”
“You don't love me for being a selfish man,” he told her, then pressed his lips to her head as her words stopped coming, lost to racking sobs. “I don't want to do this. Please believe me. I can't bear the thought of losing your love in the end.”
Sorrow overwhelmed Meaghan. She focused her power back on the doll, but found much of the emotion remained within her. She stood, and Nick did the same. The time had come to leave. Without making any noise, they found their way to the door, stopping when Faillen spoke.
“My Queen.” Faillen held his gaze on her. “I'm sorry. I truly am. I hope you won't remember me by this final act.”
“I'll remember you as the great man you are,” she replied. “And I'll remember what Garon has done. If your road ends as you fear, please know that I'll return your sons to Ree. I'll uphold my promise or I'll die trying.”
“Thank you,” he whispered before pressing his face into his wife's hair.
Meaghan could no longer contain her tears as she and Nick turned their backs on the couple and forged into the dark of a growing night.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
IT BLED. Meaghan's enemy stood tall and regal against the dawning sky, waiting for her next strike, though its strength had begun to wane. Long gashes scarred its dark brown skin and dripped maple blood over the ground.
Lifting her sword, she swung high, surprised when the tree blocked her attack with a thick limb. The spell remained active, the tree undefeated. Another branch swung at her, pushing her away and she doubled her effort, tightening her grip on her sword and striking once more. Sun glinted off allestone as the blade met its mark, stripping a chunk of bark from the tree's advancing arm. She lunged again, stabbing a low part of the trunk, and then danced away in time to avoid the swipe of a surface root.
The frustration that had tensed her muscles over the past half hour began to ease. She parried another swipe and allowed the exercise to erase her worries from her mind. Her conversation with Faillen dissolved first, then the twenty-four near-sleepless days since, along with Cal's overdue promise to visit. Last, Vaska's unmarked grave at the edge of the field faded, relegated to distant memory by the intensity of her fight and the resilient cold of the waning winter.
She focused on only two things—the doll tucked beneath her cloak and the flurry of branches and limbs as they flew at her, driven by magic and the instinct to survive. Each blow, each thrust, each block and advance heightened her control over her power and her skill. She spun around the tree. Wind whipped her hair behind her and wiped sweat from her brow. She ducked to avoid a thick attack of budding leaves, and then she landed the killing blow, thrusting her sword into a knothole the spell had marked as the tree's heart.
The shock of the blow, the power of it, echoed down her arms and then the tree went limp. She stared at her foe, at its limbs drooping to the ground, and knew the spell had succumbed to her aggression. She pulled her sword from its mark, and then pressed her forehead against the edge of the knothole as she worked to control her breath. Closing her eyes, she focused on the heat emanating from her body and stretched it out, along her arms and into her fingers. She rested her hands against the bark and gave her foe the gift of rebirth. Her revival power surged, warming her skin and heating the bark. When she opened her eyes, all evidence of the fight had disappeared.
In its place, the healed tree bore white blossoms and the promise of spring. She headed across the field to the cabin. It would not be long before her skill with the sword matched Nick's. The next time she challenged him, she intended to win. Perhaps today, after he returned from his hunt.
She entered the cabin and deposited her sword with the other weapons in a corner of the room, then added a log to the remnants of the breakfast fire. The morning chill eased from her skin as she moved on to practicing spells, reciting the one that formed a ball of light first. It blossomed between her palms as she focused on it, expanding it to the size of a basketball before flicking her hand to throw it across the room. She drew it back a fraction of an inch from the wall, and then tossed it away once more. A chuckle echoed from the fire. Following it, a familiar voice filled the room with joy.
“I saw Scree toy with a mouse in exactly the same way once,” it said.
“Cal.” Meaghan turned to look at the fire, though she could not see him. “You're all right.”
“I haven't met a Mardróch smart enough to catch me yet,” he responded. “I'd say it's good to see you, but frankly, you look terrible.”
She laughed. “Thanks. I thought it was time to increase my training. Our trip to Faillen's didn't go well.”
“He told me. I saw him yesterday.”
“He's still in Ærenden? I thought he'd be gone by now.”
“He isn't anxious to meet his death,” Cal said. “And he doesn't want to leave Ree yet. He's planning on leaving soon though. I won't welcome that day.”
Meaghan frowned. “Neither will I. I wish I could help him.”
“Fight the war. Defeat Garon. That's the best you can do.”
“While sequestered here?” She locked her hands together behind her back, and started pacing the room. “I'm ready to fight, Cal. It's just a matter of convincing Nick. I can't do anything productive until we rejoin the others.”
“Where is he?” Cal asked.
“Hunting. Will you speak with him?”
“When the time is right,” he agreed. “But I'm not sure you're ready either.”
She whirled around to face the fire. “I'm strong,” she insisted. “I'm fast. I can fight.”
“No doubt,” he said. “But it's a matter of your empath power. The doll works for now, but it won't work indefinitely. There are thousands of people in the caves now. They're set up in different areas, but you'll come in contact with most of them in time. Holding your focus on the doll takes energy. How long can you do that without wearing yourself out? Days, maybe? It's not enough.”
“A time will come when you'll wish for these days of inactivity,” he warned her, “when you'll long for the peace of the cabin.”
“Perhaps. But that time isn't now.”
“I understand,” he said, and the sadness in his voice told her he meant it. “After talking with Faillen, you're grieving, and you're feeling helpless. But more than that, you're angry. When you go into battle, though, you can't fight with your emotions. You need to clear your head. You need to follow your training and your training alone. Promise me you'll heed that advice.”
“I will,” she promised, and pushed the emotions away with a controlled exhale.
“Also, when you fight, don't bother using the doll to control your power. The safest thing to do is focus on Nick's blocking power. You can do that without having to think about it, right?”
“Of course,” she said and then narrowed her eyes at the fire. “Why are you telling me this now?”
Cal sighed, and Meaghan could almost feel the weight he carried with the sound. “Because it's time for your first battle. The Mardróch have attacked a village a few miles north of you. The villagers need your help to survive. Go to them. But Meaghan,” he commanded when she spun on her heels and started for the door. “Do everything Nick says, exactly as he says. If you get killed because I told you about the battle, he'll never forgive me. I need your word on that.”
“You have it,” she said, then grabbed her knife belt and ran out the door.
Aerenden: The Gildonae Alliance (Ærenden Book 2) Page 16