Shatter (The Children of Man)

by Elizabeth C. Mock

  “This is a difficult task I ask of you both.” Rivka looked from Caleb to Talise and back. “You did not betray your men, Caleb. You have spent many years on this quest for justice, which is the truest sign of your loyalty to Lior. Nor is leaving Tomas’ punishment in my hands a betrayal of their memories. But you must heed me when I tell you that this is not your battle to fight.”

  The tops of Rivka’s hands glimmered blue. “The weapons that can win this battle have been chosen, but they are still being forged. Should your sister, Rafaela, lose anyone else, I see a splitting of her path. Do you understand my meaning?”

  Arms crossed, Caleb’s eyes were still dark as he examined the Scion. “I understand.”

  Rivka tapped a finger on her chin, considering the man clothed in black. “But will you obey?”

  Sinking to one knee, Caleb placed a closed fist over his heart in the formal gesture. Orange light covered his eyes and lines seared his forehead as he spoke the binding words. “Before the fire of the Light, I swear it shall be done.” The fiery glow flared and disappeared, sinking into his skin like embers turning to ash.

  “As always I must ask too much.” Rivka’s thoughts drifted to Mireya’s laughing smile that made her face glow like the sun shining through amber glass. “Well, before you go, may we offer you the hospitality of the Nikelan temple for the evening? You must be very weary.”

  Caleb rose, but Talise stepped forward to answer. “Yes, we are, jha’na. Thank you.”

  “Vaughn?” Rivka turned to where her husband had observed silently.

  “Already gone.” He winked at Rivka and left through a door in one of the archways.

  “While Vaughn finds one of the girls to show you to your room and the kitchens, I must satisfy my curiosity. What did Nikela’s Mirror show you, Talise?”

  Talise shot a glance at Caleb out of the corner of her eye. Though the details had faded like a forgotten dream, the silence after the bird’s song stopped filled her mind. “I’m not sure what I saw, jha’na.”

  “You saw something?” Caleb asked looking from Talise to Rivka. “I didn’t see anything. Why didn’t I see something?”

  Rivka motioned for Talise and Caleb to follow and headed for the archway Vaughn had disappeared through. As she walked, she answered Caleb’s question. “The Deoraghan are the true children of Vamorines, exiled after the destruction of Gialdanis. They carry the sight in their blood, a blessing to some, a curse to others. You do not have the sight, so you see nothing but a pretty reflecting pool when you look in the Mirror, but the blood of our people runs true in Talise.”

  They had entered a hallway that felt claustrophobic after the lofty arched ceiling of the entry. The walls here had been paneled with dark woods where tapestries depicting scenes from their world’s history hung at regular intervals. The colors had faded, leeched away by the passage of the years, but the details of the massive weavings remained sharp and clear. As they passed each, Caleb tried to identify, which stories they featured. One depicted the destruction of the Gialdanis as the ground cracked and fell into the sea.

  “Did it feel like you had just awoken from a dream that you immediately forgot?” Rivka inquired of Talise.

  The colors of the next hanging looked brighter than the others to Caleb. It showed the Cleansing of the Deoraghan by the Orders and the signing of the treaty at the Battle of Twinning Pass. Caleb examined it, wondering which figure was supposed to be Rivka.

  Talise nodded. “It did. The more I try to remember, the further it seems to slip away from my mind. All I can recall is a songbird’s melody being silenced.”

  The hall came to an end. The last tapestry showed the seven founders of the Color Orders, each standing in a shaft of colored light at the Shrine of Shattering. The Shrine for which his little sister now searched.

  Rivka nodded as if she had expected Talise’s explanation. “I have seen this before, but it could mean any number of things.” Leaving the hallway, they entered a large dining hall. “You will remember when you are meant to.”

  A plump girl with curly red hair, in a blue dress similar in cut to Rivka's, approached them and bobbed her head. “Jha’na, Vaughn Grier asked that I show your guests to their quarters. Mistress Talise, Master Caleb, if you would be so kind to follow me, we've already seen to your belongings and mounts.”

  “My thanks, Leigh.” Rivka smoothed the girl's hair with an absent gesture. “I wish we could offer you hospitality for more than this night, but I understand your desire to have already left. Lior keep you from darkness, my children.”

  Talise pressed her palms together and held them at her breast while she bowed her head. “Ashalioris guide you.”

  Caleb pulled Talise away, his hand around her waist, finishing the blessing. “And Tallior guard your way, jha’na.”

  Rivka held her palms together at her breast returning the gesture as Leigh led the bounty hunters past the tables and through the arch in the opposing wall. “I know you're there,” Rivka spoke into the silence. “You might as well say what you're thinking.”

  Vaughn joined her watching the trio disappear from sight. “You've known for the last decade, Rivka.”

  “No, I've suspected Tomas. There is a difference, Vaughn.”

  “We've always known that Ben's death was no accident.”

  “Yes, but we could never prove Tomas was involved. Otherwise, he never would have been confirmed as Scion.”

  “Whether it is true, that boy believed every word he said.”

  Rivka sighed and rested her head against Vaughn's arm. “Yes, but who of us hasn't deceived ourselves without ever realizing it? Caleb was earnest; it's true. But I cannot depose a fellow Scion on hearsay, no matter how sincere the accuser. We must be certain.”

  Vaughn grunted agreement and twirled a lock of her hair with a finger. “When do you want me to leave?”

  “I should say now, but I'm tired. I'm tired of sending so many children into the darkness. Tonight, I need you here.”

  “Then here I shall stay.”

  *****

  Chapter Twelve

  Lucien perched on the stone boundary fence at the edge of Oakdarrow. He sat polishing his lyre or at least that's the impression he projected to any passersby. His rag ran across the grain of the wood in rhythmic circles, but his eyes were busy elsewhere. They shadowed every shift in Eve's posture, every change in her expression.

  She stood at the town's smithy gesturing above her head indicating a height to the man in a leather apron. Though short in stature himself, the man's compact build showed the expected strength of his trade. The man nodded and turned Eve's shoulders toward the stables between the smithy and the wall and pointed past Lucien with the flat of his hand. Lucien's stomach tightened at the man's casual contact and his gaze darkened, but his hands continued without so much as a stutter. Eve shook the smith's hand and returning the gesture he pat her arm soundly. As she trotted to the wall, her good mood almost palpable in the air, Lucien's eyes glimmered golden as the tension in his face smoothed into a lazy affability.

  “News on the hunt, oh great trackeress?” Lucian asked without looking up from his instrument.

  Eve’s mouth quirked into a smile. “As a matter of fact, yes.”

  Lucian dropped his rag in mock surprise. “Wait. You're talking to me about your secret mission? Be still my heart.”

  Eve hopped onto the wall and butted his shoulder with her own. “Don't be a jerk.”

  “But I'm ever so good at it,” he observed without a trace of humility.

  “You won't hear me contradicting you.”

  “You cut me, Eve.” Lucien held his fist over his heart. “You cut me deep.”

  Eve grabbed his fist and pulled Lucien off the wall with her. “I can feel him. He was here and not long ago.”

  “So, it's a he, yeah?” Lucien poked for more information while hiding the uncertainty that flared inside him. “You're not hunting a jilted lover, are you? Should I be jealous?”

 
Waving away his jesting, she commented offhand, “There's never been anyone else. But I need you to get Kimiko from the inn, while I check something out.”

  Lucien smiled at her admission, but still felt a pang of insecurity. “Good information from the smith?”

  Eve nodded, but seemed distracted. “Without a doubt. Francis is an old friend. He recognized Kae—” She broke off realizing what she had almost said. “The target of my investigation, he recognized the target of my investigation.”

  Lucien forced his muscles to remain relaxed, keeping any sign of his anger hidden from her. He knew the name she had almost spoken. He now knew that she hunted for the one man he hated, the man who had always disapproved of Lucien as well as their relationship – Kaedman Hawthorn.

  He needed to get away from her before his composure cracked. Grinning, he dropped her hand. “I'll meet you at the grove east of the wall.”

  Waving, she vaulted over the stone fence. Drawn to the eastern outskirts of the village, her skin felt electrified. The energies around her licked at her like the cresting waters of a flood. Pausing, she inhaled and opened her eyes, which shimmered green. She could see the coursing green energy of the oak grove before her. Instead of flowing healthily like blood in veins, the energies had been torn and hemorrhaged across the ground. Someone had savaged this forest.

  To her left, the leaves of an ancient, gnarled oak reaching toward the sky shook in the breeze, a brilliant crimson. Instead of the robust energy of a tree at the end of summer, this tree's energies had faded to that of a tree preparing for the long sleep of winter. Eve dropped to a knee beneath the tree's root system that dove in and out of the ground around her. She dug her fingers into the dry dirt between the roots of the oak. Her hand splayed within the soil, she traced the energies to the center of the incident. Just a few feet from where she knelt, the energy had funneled through a single person.

  Her eyes snapping open, Eve blinked and withdrew her hand. “A channel? Here?”

  Rubbing the dirt between her fingers, she strode over to the spot where the channel had stood. She could feel where the energy from the grove had burst through the soil and into the person, but the channel had not been the one to use the energy. The energy had been thrown back toward the oak. Following its course, the traces of its overflow centered around one of the roots.

  Fading glimmers of red splashed all over the area. It had fueled red magic, but Eve had never seen an aftermath like this. Though the sun beat down on her back warmly, she felt cold, isolated. As though this spot consumed anything warm and living. Crouched, she extended her senses and saw the scarlet energies had seeped deep into the earth. Prodding the shadows left by the magic, she sucked in a breath and lost her balance as a wave of terror and shame engulfed her.

  She lay in the dirt with a twig digging into her cheek; the contact had broken. Propped up on her forearms, she heaved herself off the ground and stepped back from the tree as she wiped the dirt from her face. “By the Light, what happened here?”

  Her hand skimming her short hair, she looked at the seemingly peaceful grove that masked a hidden torment. Steadying her nerves, Eve collected her internal energy and the green light veiled her eyes again. She kept a safe distance from the treacherous marsh of red magic and searched for other signatures. Near where the channel had stood, she saw a distinctive blend of purple and orange.

  Before she moved closer to confirm, she saw a dusting of blue next to the marsh. This glint of blue caused her to stop. Shifting her gaze, the blue seemed to fade. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and looked again. No trace of the blue remained.

  “Great, now you're seeing legends. What’s next, a mage?” Eve commented under her breath.

  Refocusing her efforts on the purple and orange traces, she touched them and saw Kaedman's face, as though in a memory, but this face was not the face of the man that she remembered. His eyes were bruised with exhaustion and she had never seen his cheeks so hollow. “You should be haunted by what you've done, Kaedman,” Eve said her voice tinged with bitterness.

  “You're searching for Hawthorn,” said a flat voice behind her.

  Startled by the voice, Eve flinched. She had been so engrossed by her investigation that she had not heard Lucien's approach. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Kimiko trying to shy away from his hold on her reins.

  Eve took the lead from his hands, which he gladly surrendered. Patting Kimiko's blaze, she also surrendered. “Yes.”

  Lucien's face was unreadable. “Why?”

  “I need him for questioning in an ongoing investigation.”

  “What did he do?”

  “That's all I'm willing to tell you, Lucien.” Eve tugged on Kimiko's reins lightly as she headed for the road.

  Lucien put his hand on her shoulder turning her toward him. Her soft brown eyes glistened with tears. She had drained her energy to read the grove and the backlash from the residual red magic had demolished her emotional control. Everything she had walled away washed over her, her grief at Nessa's death, Kaedman's betrayal, her mistrust and love for Lucien. Everything she had tried to ignore, to pretend did not exist came rushing over her.

  He brought his free hand to her cheek. “Eve, what did he do?”

  She blinked and the tears rolled into his fingers. Her voice breathless, she whispered, “He killed Nessa.”

  Without a word, he drew Eve into his arms. She didn’t fight him this time. Instead she sunk into his chest and wrapped her arms around his back. Her face buried into his neck, she let the tears she had held back for so long fall.

  Once again, Faela found herself drawn to water, to its rumble, to the clarity it brought her. Still and silent, she listened as she sat cross-legged on a granite boulder that had lichen creeping up its side. Behind her, the forest rustled as its inhabitants transitioned from day to night. In soft purple streaks, the twilight reflected off the water that raced down the river in front of her. Just soaking in its soothing rush, Faela rested her cheek on the rough canvas that clad her knee.

  Lost in the sparkling waters of the Foster River that crashed around protruding rocks, Faela doubled over to grab her bag from the springy ground below. Elbow deep into the satchel, her fingers found their quarry. She smiled with wistful nostalgia as she pulled out a small, pale green scrap of fabric. She let the blanket settle onto her lap, which it barely covered. Her fingers twined in the soft fabric, she began humming the refrain from Sammi’s lullaby and her eyes faded behind a red mist.

  Neither man moved as Kade and Dathien watched the rabbit nibble on the purplish berries hanging off the bush in front of them. Just a little to the left, if it moved just a little to the left they too would soon eat. The rabbit hopped toward a large cluster that happened to be to its left. It made a high-pitched screech when the trap snared its legs and whipped the scrawny animal into the air.

  “Nicely done,” Dathien observed revealing his hiding place as he moved toward the rabbit that thrashed in its captivity.

  Kade stretched his legs and back as he stood. “It shouldn’t have taken that long for something to wander into that trap.”

  “This is unusual? You know these moors better than I do.”

  Kade nodded as Dathien unsheathed his knife and slit the animal’s throat ending its agony. Something brushed the back of Kade’s neck. Swatting at it, Kade frowned. There was nothing there. He felt it again. Kade turned to identify the cause. Nothing was there. Then the contact returned and with it came a sweet, childlike melody – a song.

  Stealing a glance at Dathien, the other man had almost finished skinning the rabbit and nothing about his focused efficiency indicated that he had heard anything. Kade felt a pure, uncomplicated love wash over him as the music continued. He blinked, shocked by the intensity of the emotions. Words soon accompanied the music. As though he thought it himself, he heard inside his mind a feminine voice, a familiar voice singing. Shine, shine like the sun. Light will come and night be done.

  Without knowing h
ow, he knew the music came from the river. Just as surely as he knew where the music originated, he also felt a compulsion to find its source.

  “Dathien, you take that back to camp. I’m going to see if I have any luck by the water.”

  One-handed, Jair grasped the dead branch sticking out of the briars and pulled, but the wood refused to budge. The vines growing around it and up the tree had entangled the branch. Tucked under his other arm, the results of his scavenging balanced precariously. Jair looked at the dry branch and tried to gauge how firmly it was wedged into the jagged shrubs.

  Though the leaves around him remained still, he felt the passing touch of a breeze that carried the faintest hints of a melody. It did not carry the sound of a song so much as the memory of one.

  Though Jair would have sworn he had never heard it before, it reminded him of his mother. The way she would laugh, because he couldn’t stop himself from smiling any time he tried to lie, that no matter what he had done, she still loved him. Jair let the thought pass without examining it too closely as he put down his firewood. He had decided to try wrestling away his prize from the brambles.

  Walking along the riverbank, Kade strained his eyes in the dwindling light. Though the song had ended, the emotion tugging him forward remained. As he climbed a small rise, he saw a rocky outcropping ahead. He heard unrestrained laughter carry across the running water. Sitting on the rocks, he saw Faela smiling. He had never seen her features so bright and relaxed. The joy radiating from her smile caused him to pause before approaching. In that moment of hesitation, he stepped onto a pile of debris washed ashore from the river’s last flooding.

  Alerted by the crunching sound, Faela dropped the cloth in her hands, her features returning to the cold mask he had seen so often. Her hand had dropped to the dagger he knew she kept in her boot and her eyes glowed a dangerous dark crimson as she faced him.