Alora

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Alora Page 26

by Tamie Dearen


  “I really died?”

  “I believe it’s called flat-lined. But the AED zapped you right back to life. And when you came back, so did Kaevin.”

  Jireo interrupted. “But only after I forced Kaevin to call you back from whatever dark place you went while rescuing Bardamen.” He lifted his hand to offer a high-five to Alora. “Well done on that, by the by. Except for the part where you died, of course.”

  “Doc says he could’ve brought her back without Kaevin’s help.” Beth picked up the pillow from the floor, fluffed it, and tucked it under Alora’s head.

  “No,” Jireo insisted. “Kaevin had already saved her life. I felt the defender bond release me before I passed out.”

  “Perhaps your bond released you because I was dead,” Kaevin reasoned.

  “No, that feels entirely different—like someone has stabbed your heart with a pickaxe. I should know. I felt it when you died in Vindrake’s cavern after he tortured...” Jireo scrunched his nose up. “I’m sorry, Alora. I know you mustn’t be reminded of that.”

  “It’s okay, really. It doesn’t bother me anymore. Not since Laethan emptied everything out.”

  “So you don’t have PTSD anymore?” Beth offered Alora a glass of water, which she drank with greedy abandon, soothing her parched mouth.

  “No PTSD for me. I’m not so sure about Kaevin, though.” Alora was only half-way kidding.

  Raelene slipped through the door, clapping her hands when she spied Alora. “You’re awake! It seems you spend too much time sleeping these days.”

  “Could be because I’m a teenager,” Alora teased.

  As Raelene smoothed Alora’s hair away from her face with a gentle touch, she looked a little weepy, but Alora was enjoying the lighthearted banter too much to let her grandmother go all mushy on her. She thought of a distraction.

  “How’s Bardamen? I haven’t heard anything except that I saved him.”

  It was the right question. Grandmother laughed, slapping her thigh and gasping for air.

  “He’s Bardamen, just the same. He wasn’t awake more than half a finger before he was arguing with Mera. And there she was weeping over him for days. But when he piqued her pride she was shouting in his face and declaring no woman would ever be able to tolerate him.”

  “What were they arguing about?” asked Alora.

  “Mera mentioned she was considering taking the oath to defend the Craedenza. I’m certain she hoped Bardamen might be encouraged to express his feelings for her. And of course Bardamen doesn’t wish her to take the oath and be bound forever to Glaenshire. But instead of spilling his heart and asking her to marry him, he spouted off about her having too few years to make such a decision. I think he may have called it a foolish decision, as well.”

  “It was pretty bad,” Beth agreed. “Doc was still in the room, at the time. And he told them if they killed each other, they could just stay dead. He was done saving people for the night.”

  “But that’s terrible,” Alora protested. “Why are you laughing, Grandmother?”

  “Because I’ve realized who Mera and Bardamen remind me of... me and my Laeander.”

  “You and Grandfather?”

  “Yes, dear. Your grandfather and I fought like enemy warriors for moons. Until one day he saw a man on his knees at my feet in the village square. Thinking the man was proposing marriage, Laeander declared his love at the top of his lungs, while running to intercept me. He knocked the man over in his haste to take a knee and ask for my promise.” She reared her head back and laughed again, until tears were running down her face. “Of course the poor man was only searching for a toggle that had dropped from his tunic.”

  Beth was giggling. “What did he do when he realized he’d made a mistake?”

  “He stood and kissed me, as I’d never been kissed before. It was quite scandalous, for I was not of his clan. And as the bearer for Stone Clan already, I couldn’t leave my council position. But his Forest Clan village was far from Stone Clan, and none there knew his family. He returned with me, and we were promised, passing him off as Stone Clan, as his eyes were not so very light green. And none were the wiser.”

  “And that’s why I can draw power from water, stone, and forest,” Alora told Beth.

  “Yep. And you can transport people from one place to another and from one realm to another. And you can sense evil. And you can manipulate emotions and do weird stuff with pain. And you can fight off evil and withstand torture. But...” Beth waggled one finger in the air. “But, you still have a panic attack if I suggest you go to a dance.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “I’m just too busy to go to a dance. And I’m not invited to school dances anymore, since I’m homeschooling.”

  “So you’d go if you were invited to a dance and you weren’t off on some adventure in Tenavae? Like, for instance, if there was a dance at the end of the summer at the community center?”

  “Well, I don’t know,” Alora began, fighting the butterflies in her stomach.

  “There’s a dance?” Kaevin limped over, sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand pressing against his abdomen. Carefully, Alora drew a bit more of his pain away, but not enough for him to notice.

  “We’ll probably be in Serenshire at the end of the summer,” Alora protested. “We have to put off the trip now while Kaevin and Jireo are healing.”

  Kaevin smiled, flashing his white teeth, freshly brushed with minty toothpaste. “If there’s a dance, we’ll be there. Nothing will keep us away, except perhaps if Vindrake has one of us bound in irons. Distance is no obstacle. One of many advantages of having a soulmate who’s also a bearer.”

  **************

  “I don’t like funerals.” Alora sat on the low tree branch with Uncle Charles, watching the smoke rising from the pyre in colorful swirls. A result of Nordamen’s magick or some kind of chemical reaction, Alora wasn’t sure which, and didn’t really care. “And now I realize, all this time it was my empathy making me cry whenever anyone else is crying.”

  “Your Aunt Lena used to do that, and she didn’t have an empathy gift.”

  “Hmmm... maybe she did have empathy gifting and we didn’t know it.”

  Uncle Charles smiled, one of those sad ones where your mouth curves and your cheeks move, but your eyes are still kind of droopy. “The only funeral you ever went to in Montana was your Aunt Lena’s.”

  “I know.” Alora leaned her head against his shoulder. “And you want to know something awful, Uncle Charles? I’m kind of glad I can’t ever lose Kaevin the way you lost Aunt Lena. I don’t know how you stood it.”

  He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but then he pressed his lips together, shaking his head.

  “What?”

  “Nothing important. We can discuss it another time.” His shoulder lifted as he breathed in. “Funerals aren’t really such a bad thing, you know. It’s a time to celebrate a person’s life and remember all the things you loved about them.”

  It felt good to let herself cry. Kind of cleansing. She wished she could ask Laethan if that was part of empathy or just normal. But she could never ask him anything again. He was the only person who understood her, and now he was gone. It wasn’t fair. He’d never gotten to travel, and he’d been excited about going to Serenshire. Nothing was fair about it. Nothing.

  “Why does God let you love somebody and then take them away?”

  “Wow. I’m not sure I can really answer that, but I’ll try.” Uncle Charles paused, obviously trying to come up with some pithy philosophical statement. “I think... I think it’s because death is a part of life. Everyone dies eventually, so you have to enjoy them while they’re alive. Kind of like a bouquet of flowers. The trick is to treat all your friends like beautiful cut flowers. You cherish them every day, knowing they won’t last forever.”

  Alora looked up through wet lashes. “That’s kind of corny, Uncle Charles.”

  “Yep. That’s be
cause I’m kind of corny.”

  With a sigh of contentment, she laid her head back on his shoulder. “I like corny.”

  ~24~

  Alora covered her mouth to stifle her giggles. It was right there, on the front page of the Bozeman Post.

  “Sergeant Justice Meets Montana Justice,” Beth read out loud in a twangy reporter voice. “Sergeant Justice, star of the television reality show, Unseen Secrets, was arrested in downtown Bozeman, Montana on Friday night. Justice was charged with one count of indecent exposure and one count of public intoxication. Justice defended his behavior, explaining that he’d been abducted by aliens while changing clothes in the men’s locker room at his hotel gym. Evidently, the aliens dropped him in downtown Bozeman when they recognized he was, indeed, a slime-ball.”

  “Good Grief Charlie Brown! Did it really say that?” asked Alora.

  “Well, I made up that last part. But the rest is real.” Beth laughed. “I told you it would work.”

  “I just wasn’t sure I could transport him, since I’d only seen him on TV. How did Wesley get into the locker room at that hotel?”

  “In a tuxedo. Justice is such a narcissistic jerk—he insists all his men wear tuxes when they drive him around. The hotel had seen so many guys in tuxedos, they didn’t give Wesley a second look.”

  “Wesley said he would call when Justice was changing clothes, so I was really relieved when he showed up in his underwear. I was afraid he wouldn’t have anything on!”

  “You didn’t transport out of there and leave your phone lying on the ground, did you?”

  “No, Markaeus was waiting in the truck down the street. When Wesley called, Markaeus flashed the lights. I transported Justice to me and zipped away before he really had a chance to see me. I transported right into the truck, and we drove away.”

  “Well, it worked like a charm. So, that takes care of Justice. And I think that nurse is moving back to Billings. That’s everything on this end. What about Tenavae? What about all those portals Markaeus made?”

  “Oh, Markaeus sealed both the new ones. Of course, the other two were already sealed.”

  “Good. At least Daegreth is safe for now... Karen was worried.”

  “Karen was worried? Not you?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. It’s just complicated.”

  “Still making your chocolate chip cookies crispy?”

  Beth tried not to grin. “No comment.”

  “Ha! I knew it.”

  “Back to the subject at hand.” Beth tapped a fingernail on her front tooth. “We do have one more loose end to tie up, and it’s here in Montana.”

  Chewing her lower lip, Alora tried to think, but couldn’t remember another issue. “What loose end? I must’ve forgotten.”

  Beth’s mouth stretched in an ear-to-ear smile. “The community dance in Bozeman, at the end of the summer.”

  **************

  “You’re not really going to make me go to another dance, are you?” Alora asked Kaevin. She’d hoped the idea would be lost or the dance might be canceled. But, a month later, Beth had broached the subject again, receiving an enthusiastic response from Kaevin, as expected. Alora, on the other hand, would have preferred a less painful procedure, such as having her legs waxed.

  Sitting on the couch beside her, Kaevin laughed, lost in the antics of Tom and Jerry.

  She poked him with her elbow, careful to be sure she wasn’t near his stomach wound. The skin had closed up, the stitches gone, but the area remained tender. Alora remembered how it appeared right after the injury, as clearly now as the day it happened. And now, a month later, the image still made her stomach turn over.

  “What?” He asked, his eyes watching the show.

  “I was asking if you’re going to make me go to a dance when you know how bad I am.”

  He shot a glance toward her, waggling his brows. “But I’m good enough for both of us.”

  “You’re still injured. You shouldn’t strain yourself like that. Don’t you remember what Doc told you?”

  “The dance is still a moon away. I’ll be healed by then.” His gaze was back on the television. “Ha! Did you see that?”

  “Dances are bad luck for us, Kaevin. Last time, I transported all of us to Laegenshire by mistake.”

  “Beth warned me about this...”

  “What are you talking about? What did Beth warn you about?”

  “Your gift.” Kaevin sighed, clicking the remote to turn off the television. Turning toward her, he took both her hands in his, gazing into her eyes with a serious expression.

  “What gift?”

  “Beth explained that you have a special gift for worrying about silly things and to expect you would attempt to sway my opinion concerning the dance.” He lifted her hands, turning them over to kiss her palms.

  “Perhaps my special gift isn’t worry. Perhaps my gift is premonition.”

  “Perhaps.” He kissed the skin on the underside of her arms, unconcerned about her scars.

  “Hey, that tickles.”

  Abruptly, he stood up, dragging her with him. “We should practice our dancing.”

  “We don’t have any music.”

  He pulled her into his arms. “I hear music whenever you’re with me.”

  Alora’s heart did a little round-off-back-handspring inside her chest. “Oh Kaevin... that’s so—”

  “Saccharin?” called a voice from behind the couch. Jireo climbed to his feet, holding onto the back for support. “Mawkish? Schmaltzy?”

  “Seriously, Jireo?” Alora propped her hands on her hips. “You’re still inflicting us with Wesley’s words-of-the-day?”

  “I’ve added these particular words to my vocabulary because they describe the essence of pain I endure on a daily basis. Over and over, I must hear schmaltzy phrases from Kaevin’s lips.”

  “You wouldn’t have to hear it if you weren’t sneaking around, spying on us all the time.”

  “You wound me, Alora.” Jireo stabbed his heart with his hand. “I’ve grown so fond of you. Especially since your lips appear almost normal now.”

  “Hey! My lips aren’t swollen at all any more.” Alora probed her face with her fingers.

  Kaevin chuckled. “Don’t listen to him, Alora.”

  Jireo spoke a little louder. “Begging your pardon, Bearer. I didn’t wish to cause embarrassment about your rather large lips.”

  “Are my lips big?” she asked Kaevin.

  “Your lips are perfect.” He kissed them to prove his point. “Now, take us to the stables before I’m forced to kill my defender brother.”

  “You’ll miss the cinnamon rolls,” Jireo warned.

  Alora considered her options. She could smell the delicious pastries. Her mouth was already watering in anticipation.

  In a flash of genius, she transported herself and Kaevin into the kitchen, narrowly missing Uncle Charles.

  “Hey! We have rules about transporting inside the house, young lady.”

  “Sorry, Uncle Charles. It was an emergency.”

  “There you are.” Jireo leaned into the kitchen doorway, with his arms folded across his chest. “You should be careful, Alora. Two things are known to be responsible for the fattening of the lips... cinnamon rolls and mawkish phrases.”

  “I plan to keep a steady diet of both.” Snatching three cinnamon rolls and transferring them to a paper plate, Alora transported Kaevin and herself to the stables.

  “Whew!” she sat on an upside-down bucket. “We got away!”

  She took one pastry and handed the other two to Kaevin.

  “Why don’t you ignore him?” asked Kaevin, between bites.

  “I can’t. He knows how to push my buttons.”

  Grinning, Kaevin reached over to tap the top button on her shirt. “And how does Jireo do that?”

  Alora nudged him with her elbow as she took a huge bite of cinnamon roll. “You know what I’m talking about. Mmmm, this is so good.” She savored her next bite. “What we really need is
to get Arista over here. Jireo needs a sister to tease.”

  “Or perhaps we simply need to return to Laegenshire, where Jireo may find a woman of his own.”

  Alora liked being referred to as a woman. Ironically, it made her feel like giggling, but she held her composure. Barely.

  Then it happened, as it had so many times in the past month, since they’d returned from Glaenshire. His smile faltered, and she felt a hint of some other emotion—something dark and angry. Just for an instant, and then it was gone.

  She had to know the truth, even if it was unpleasant. She steeled her emotions, trying not to alert him to her intentions.

  “Kaevin, are you happy?” Rotating on her stool until she faced him, she watched his expression, searching for answers when she wasn’t sure of the right question.

  He swallowed the last of his cinnamon rolls and leaned against the wall beside her. “Of course I am. I’m the luckiest man in the entirety of two realms, for I have you as my soulmate.”

  “Yes, but... something’s happened between us, hasn’t it? You’re... I don’t know... you’re different.”

  His smile disappeared, and he grew quiet. Too quiet. She opened her empathy, scanning for his feelings, but she didn’t like what she felt. Pain. Anxiety. Anger. Withdrawal.

  “I am different,” he replied, not meeting her eyes.

  His words and the accompanying emotions fell over her like a heavy blanket. The walls of the stable moved together, pinning her in place, and her heart sped up, thumping so hard she could feel it.

  He wants a way out. He doesn’t want to be my soulmate. I knew he was faking it. I could tell. He’s been acting happy and sweet all the time. He doesn’t even argue with me anymore.

  “What happened?” she croaked, forcing the words through her constricted windpipe.

  He jerked his shirt up, exposing the angry red scars. “This happened! And Vindrake captured you again. And Jireo’s leg may never be the same. And Laethan died. And so did a lot of fine Stone Clan warriors. All under my watch!”

  He kicked a nearby bale of hay, sending a puff of dust and debris into the air.

 

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