The Cyrun

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The Cyrun Page 20

by Janilise Lloyd


  “So, you gentlemen from the area?” Trent asked the two men sitting next to us conversationally.

  “Yeah, what’s it to ya?” the man closest to us grumbled. The other didn’t bother to acknowledge us.

  “We’re hoping to get in touch with an old family friend, but we’re not sure where to start. We thought he might be from this province. His name is Will Longfellow. Ever heard of him?”

  “‘Course I have. The Longfellow family has lived here for generations. They’re out in Burgeon.” The man gestured over his shoulder.

  “Thank you. We’ll head that direction as soon as we’re finished here.”

  The man gave Trent a look that clearly said, “I don’t care.”

  Trent stood and placed a few silver coins on the counter next to our mugs. “Let’s get going,” he whispered.

  I was all too happy to follow him outside, thinking of my dad’s drunken stumble out this same door many years ago. Though most of the memories I had of him in Cyrus were sad, I couldn’t help but feel a greater connection to him now that I was here, in the town where he grew up.

  “So… Burgeon. Any clue what that means?” I asked Trent as we hurried down the city street, past the centaur statue.

  “There are fourteen provinces in Cyrus. Cashmere is one of them, but there are quite a few smaller towns that normally surround a Province’s major city center. The man meant your father lives in the town Burgeon.” Trent gestured to a sign that hung on a lantern post, which read, Burgeon, with an arrow pointing down a smaller cobblestone street. It seemed to head roughly in a northeastern direction.

  “How are we supposed to find him once we get to Burgeon?” I asked. My breathing was becoming labored as I struggled to keep up with Trent’s brisk pace—his legs were much longer than mine.

  “How’s your wolf nose feeling?”

  “My wolf nose?” I asked, surprised.

  “Yeah. Do you think you could track in a scent?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never tried before. Wouldn’t my uncle need to have walked this path recently?”

  “Probably. But I’d guess he has. Cashmere is already a small province, comparatively. Any of its surrounding cities are going to be limited in their supplies and resources. If he’s caring for a sick daughter, I’d assume he comes to Cashmere often,” Trent explained as we reached an iron arch that led to a bridge over a small stream. We crossed the bridge, leaving the city behind.

  “Do you think my uncle’s scent will still be detectable on the knife after all this time?”

  “I’m not sure, but I think there’s a good chance. He did carry it around for most of his life, and your father has probably not done much with it since he received it.”

  “Alright, let’s give this a shot,” I said, stepping off the cobblestones into the dirt and grass. I reached in my pocket and handed Trent the pocketknife and letter. Then I focused on the warmth of the wolf inside me. I’d been able to give transforming quite a bit of practice since I’d discovered the ability—it came easily now. A shimmering sensation tingled outward from my heart to my head, arms, and legs until I stood hunched over on four legs. I could feel the raw power of my limbs and heard my breaths come in wolfy huffs.

  “Good doggy, doggy,” Trent cooed, reaching to scratch behind my right ear.

  I snarled and snapped at his extended hand. He jumped back in fright, his eyes wide. I chuckled. The sound came out in a low rumble. Trent eyed me suspiciously before he rolled his eyes. “Was that really necessary? You scared the daylights out of me!”

  I laughed again, then nudged Trent’s hand that held the knife. He opened his palm to let me have a sniff. It mostly smelled like my dad, but there was a hint of something else there. Holding onto that smell, I sniffed the cobblestone path. There was no detectable smell that matched the scent of the knife, but I kept my nose down, sniffing as I trotted down the path, Trent at my heels.

  After several minutes, I caught a faint whiff of the scent on the knife. I lifted my snout and looked at Trent.

  “You got something?” he asked excitedly.

  I nodded and put my nose back down, sniffing again. The scent grew stronger as I continued down the path.

  Soon, homes came into view. None of them smelled like the knife, so we continued forward. Occasionally, someone would be outside. They’d look at me in alarm, evidently not expecting to see a wolf walking down the street. Trent would always call out something like, “It’s just my friend who’s a shapeshifter! You’re in no danger!” and they’d relax.

  After several more minutes, the scent turned down a side road from the main one we’d been on. We followed it. About a half mile down that road, the scent grew quite strong. I looked up to see the house I’d visited in memories—the house where my father had grown up.

  I let out a low whimper to let Trent know we’d found it, then ran off to the side of the road again and concentrated on pulling out my human form. The tingling sensation receded down my arms and legs, back into my chest. In less than a second, the transformation was complete, clothes and all; I was extremely grateful for that detail.

  “Pretty cool, huh?” I asked Trent.

  “Let’s wait and see if you actually found the right place before you go bragging too much.”

  “There’s no way I’m wrong. I know that house from a memory I saw of my dad’s. His brother must live in their parents’ house. Come on, let’s go see!” I hurried forward, eager to meet my uncle for the first time.

  I lifted my fist to knock on the front door but hesitated.

  “What’s wrong?” Trent asked.

  Dread welled up inside me. “What if he hates me, Trent? What if he hates my father? What if he’s nothing like I imagine and he’s actually loyal to Tenebris?” I turned and started down the steps. “This was a bad idea. We should go back—”

  Trent grabbed my upper arm, stopping me. “Come on, Ava. It’s not like you to be afraid. This is worth a shot.”

  I looked into Trent’s pleading eyes, remembering my dad as he stood on these steps asking my mother not to leave him. Trent was right—I needed to give my uncle a chance. I took a deep breath and turned back to the door. I raised my fist and knocked firmly four times.

  I heard footsteps on the other side of the door. My heart stopped as they drew nearer. Finally, the door cracked open. A woman I’d never seen before peered out at us. She was middle aged with long, red hair, blue eyes, and a freckled face. She was slender and wore jeans, a brown, long-sleeve shirt, and a white apron.

  “Can I help you?” the woman asked.

  “Y-y-yes,” I stammered and cleared my throat. “Does Will Longfellow live here?”

  “He does. He’s my husband. And who are you?”

  “My name is Ava Tanner—or Longfellow, I mean. Sorry, I’m not used to using that name. I’m Will’s niece.”

  The woman looked me over with suspicion and surprise. She glanced over her shoulder as a deep voice behind said, “Let her in.”

  Chapter 25

  Secrets of the Guard

  The woman stepped aside, opening the door wider. She motioned for us to come in.

  The room we entered was small, somewhat dark, but very cozy. The walls were made of dark wood and the floor was covered in light brown carpet. There were a few sitting chairs, a long blue couch, and a fireplace at the far end of the room. There were no lights around, so I assumed there was no electricity, just like Trent’s home. The most interesting part of the room, though, was the man who stood behind the red haired woman. I recognized him immediately as my uncle Will. There were definite similarities between him and my father. They shared the same hair color, the same tan skin tone, but Will’s eyes were a beautiful blue and his face was longer than my dad’s. His nose, too was larger than my dad’s angular one. He appeared to be quite a bit older than my father, though in the memories, they’d seemed to be only three or four years apart.

  “Hello,” the man said, extending his hand in greeting, his eyes gua
rded. “I’m Will and this is my wife Anna. Please have a seat.”

  Trent and I walked over to the blue couch that sat along the back wall. Will sat in a red wingback chair next to the fireplace, facing us. Anna did not join us but made her way up the set of stairs.

  “I heard you tell Anna you’re my niece?” Will asked.

  “Yes, I’m Carmichael’s daughter, Avalon,” I nodded eagerly, “and this is my… friend, Trent.”

  “I didn’t know Mike had any kids.” Will eyed me skeptically.

  “Well, my father did send me with these.” I nudged Trent for the note and knife. He handed them to me swiftly. “Maybe that will help convince you?” I stood and crossed the few steps to where Will sat. He took the knife and note with wide eyes, as if it were too good to be true.

  “Th-thank you,” he stammered. He took the knife and examined it, then turned his attention to the letter. “This is from your dad?”

  “Yes, he asked me not to read it but give it to you directly. He told me it was very important.”

  “Do you mind if I read it now? Perhaps it will help us both understand more of our present situation.”

  “Of course, go ahead.”

  I noticed he hadn’t asked why my dad wasn’t here with me. He knew, obviously, that was an impossibility. I waited eagerly as Will read the letter. His expression worried me. It changed from one of excitement to one of shock and eventually confused horror.

  When he finished, he looked up at me with wide eyes. “If you’ll excuse me, please, I’ll be back in a few moments.” Without further explanation, Will rose from his seat and crossed the small room, disappearing from view. I heard a door open somewhere behind us. I jumped as it slammed shut.

  “Could the letter have been that bad?” I looked up at Trent.

  “I’m sure it was just different than he expected. Try not to let it worry you too much.” Trent put his arm around me and rubbed my arm comfortingly, though his eyes, too, were tight with concern.

  Several minutes passed as Trent and I sat in strained silence. There was some movement from the floor above, but otherwise, the house was quiet.

  Finally, I heard the back door open and Will re-entered the room with a few long strides. “Sorry,” he apologized as he returned to the wingback chair. “Your father was always full of surprises, often unpleasant ones. It would appear that has not changed.” Will tucked the letter away in the breast pocket of the leather jacket he wore.

  “Can you tell me what my dad said?” I asked, my curiosity growing intensely.

  “I’m afraid not. It doesn’t really concern you anyway. It was mostly a response to an apology I sent your father two years ago. Thank you for bringing it to me. It brings a great deal of comfort to hear from him after all this time. Would either of you like something to eat or drink before you head on your way?”

  I was surprised. Will hadn’t been overly friendly or unfriendly in our time together thus far, but his dismissal now was clear. Surely he’d want to spend at least a little time with his previously unknown niece. He hadn’t even asked me anything about myself.

  “We actually came to ask you a few more questions,” I said tentatively. “They’re unrelated to my father’s letter—questions of our own. Do you have another minute?”

  Will didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he looked at me with intense scrutiny—it made me uncomfortable. I squirmed in my seat. Trent squeezed my hand lightly.

  “I suppose that would be alright,” Will said with a sigh, sinking back into his chair.

  “Thank you,” I began. “So you served as a palace guard for many years, correct?”

  “Yes.” Will responded curtly.

  “My father warned you against becoming a guard. Did you ever come to agree with his position? That it was a cruel job, a dangerous job?”

  Will’s eyes tightened. “At times.”

  “When you asked King Tenebris to be released, you left on cordial terms. Have you kept in contact as he said you could?”

  “How do you know about that?” Will asked.

  “I have a gift that allows objects to reveal certain glimpses of memories to me. The pocketknife showed me some of your history with my father.”

  Will shifted uncomfortably. “How much have you seen?”

  “Enough to know you have good reason to hate the crown.”

  “Of course I do not. I am loyal to my king and the kingdom,” Will said, jumping to his feet in indignation. He said it automatically, as if it was something he’d trained himself to say whenever someone questioned his loyalties.

  I stood as well, my temper rising at my uncle’s cowardice. “So you approve, then, of being forced to beat your own brother within an inch of death? Not to mention the innumerable other innocent people who have no doubt been terrorized at your hands on the commands of your king. Or the ludicrous social system designed to keep those the king views as less worthy in a pitiful and helpless state. Beggars on the street who are treated like vermin. Kids in school who get beat up because they’re a lower social standing than their peers. The complete absence of anyone’s free will. These are all things you believe in, would fight to defend?”

  Will’s face turned white as I hurled my accusations at him. “Your father told you?” The ghost of the past glimmered in his eyes.

  “No, I saw it all for myself, Will. I saw my father bloodied and beaten. I saw the tears streaming down your face as you were forced to carry on with his flogging. I saw King Trinnen’s pleasure at my father’s suffering. He is not worthy of the crown nor is his brother. We seek to change that. That is why we are here—to ask for your help.”

  “My help? Are you insane? I could never fight against my king.”

  “I’m not asking you to. I simply want to know two things. First, do you have a way of making contact with the king? If so, would you be able to get me into the palace, even for a short amount of time? Second, do you know anything about the object known as Praesidium?”

  Will looked frantically back and forth between me and Trent before he sat down again. He let out a long breath, holding his head in his hands. I followed and took a seat on the couch, trying to reign in my indignation.

  “What exactly are your plans?” Will asked, looking up at me with tired eyes.

  “I’m afraid I can’t give specifics yet—not until I know you’ll help me. To put it simply, we seek to free Cyrus of the forced obedience of Praesidium. We are in a unique position to be able to do so.”

  Will considered for a moment. “So you’re saying you want freedom for Cyrus, including a change in the social system?”

  “Essentially, yes.”

  “Then I’ll help you how I can,” Will said, dropping his hands from his face as he straightened up in his seat.

  I was shocked. He’d been so resistant only a moment earlier. I didn’t understand his sudden change in heart. “Uh, that’s great and everything but why would you agree so quickly?” I was worried this was some sort of trap.

  “It’s my daughter, Kayley,” Will sighed. “She’s very sick. For many years, I sought freedom from my position as a guard so that I could spend more time with her and my family, but Tenebris never agreed. The most I got was two weeks during the summer and occasional weekends. Only after I managed to work my way up the ladder and really impress Tenebris did he finally concede, and I believe it had much more to do with the queen’s wishes than his own.”

  Will looked over his shoulder out the large windows as he spoke. “I have hated the crown ever since that day I was forced to beat my brother, but I haven’t been able to get out because of Praesidium. They valued me, highly, because of my offensive gifts. Every day I served was an internal battle of self-loathing as I fought to defend the people I hated.” Will turned back to face us. “Even now, after years of serving my kingdom, Tenebris has refused medical treatment for Kayley. He sees her as a lost cause, a Zero. He has forbidden any doctor from seeing her. She was born with a birth defect, you see, and has never had
a strong mental capacity. She’ll be 18 in just two years, and we will no longer be able to care for her. I suppose it’s time I take a page out of my brother’s book and fight for what I want. If there’s even a slight chance you could change things for my family, I’m willing to risk it.”

  I looked at Trent who seemed as surprised by Will’s sudden change of heart as I was. “What do you think?” I whispered to him, though Will could hear us perfectly well.

  “I think this could be our best chance and we proceed with caution.” He whispered back, eyeing Will skeptically.

  “As far as your questions,” Will looked at me, a fierce gleam in his eye, “I do happen to have a very convenient way to get you into the castle. And yes, I know a few things about Praesidium—or rather, I know the best place you can learn more.”

  Chapter 26

  The King’s Feast

  “You’ve got your invitation?” I whispered to Will as we ducked behind a row of large shrubs alongside the path that led to the main palace gates.

  “Yes, it’s right here,” Will said, patting the breast pocket of his red guard’s uniform, “though it’s not really necessary. The majority of the guards here were once under my command. I should be easily recognized and accepted.”

  Every time I glanced at his uniform, my heart stopped for a moment until I reminded myself he wasn’t one of the bad guys—or at least I was hoping he wasn’t.

  “Are you ready, Trent?” I asked, looking across Will to Trent who stood on his other side. He looked… amazing. Trent in regular clothes was always great, but Trent in a tuxedo was breathtaking.

  “Definitely not. But I’ll be pretending otherwise. Thanks for asking.” Trent straightened his jacket lapels nervously.

  I smiled. “Great, let’s get going then.”

  We glanced around to make sure no one was watching before we ducked out from behind the shrubs onto the cobblestone path, which led to the palace doors. It was lit on either side with small lanterns that glowed vibrant greens, blues, and reds.

 

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