by H. L. Burke
Willa’s muscles tightened. She forced the surprising tension out of her body, then realized it was rolling off Karvir, whose shoulder she still touched.
“A nice thought, but a bit late. A portal hasn’t opened into our Realm in years. I’m sorry you came all this way for nothing,” Karvir said.
“That’s not how Gabrin and I see it. Once a portal keeper dies, the powers pass to another Realm, after all. Even if the Realm they’ve entered is not actively trying to destroy us, who’s to say the next won’t?” Eanan sat up straighter. “We need to prepare for that, make alliances, learn to work with the Elementals, not against them. Do you wish to live in fear again? Have you already forgotten what we lost in the war?”
“I think I know that better than most. What you’re proposing is insane.” Karvir’s being dispersed into a fade. Willa tightened her grasp on him, though it was like holding onto mist. Still, she could sense his aspect and emotions.
“No one cares more about the safety of this land than Karvir, Father,” she said. “I don’t see how bringing more Elementals into this Realm is a good idea. We’d have no way of knowing if they would be hostile or not. It could very well start another war.”
Eanan waved his hand as if brushing away a fly. “The benefits far outweigh the risks, Willa. I’ve spent the last decade putting together clues to the Evermirror’s location. Landmarks along the way like the Great Highway and the Stone Span. I know we can find it, and when we do, we’ll never have to fear the Fire again.” He gazed at her. “And you? I know I raised you with a thirst for knowledge. Come with us! We could certainly use a healer. When you were a girl, you would’ve jumped on this quest.”
“I’m not a girl anymore. I have a family, and protecting them comes before my own curiosity. Karvir’s right. It’s too dangerous.” It was like that awful day all over again: Karvir and Father at odds and her in between.
Pet stuck her head in the door, followed by Brode, who carried a full bucket.
“Is everything all right?” Brode raised his eyebrows.
“Yes, we’re fine,” Willa said. “I need to cook dinner, however. I’m sure everyone is hungry and tired. Please, fill up the pot over the fire and pour the rest into the water barrel for later.”
Karvir’s being shimmered back to its solid form. She sometimes wondered how much control he had over the fading. It seemed to happen in response to his emotions, perhaps a defensive instinct developed over the years spent in his altered body. “I can’t stop you from pursuing this goal, Eanan, but if you do, you need to stay away from my home. If you lead the Elementals here—”
“Because the Elementals care about you enough to hunt you down?” Eanan rolled his eyes. “Get off your pulpit, boy. The whole world thinks you’re dead. They’ve moved on, forgotten you.”
Willa stared at her father. Her hands shook. How can he talk to him that way? Hasn’t he learned anything?
Karvir drew himself up. “That may be, but I won’t let you risk my family, poking your fingers into wasps’ nests in search of honey. You gave me a choice once, and now I’m doing the same for you. You can be with your daughter and granddaughters, or you can chase after this Evermirror. You can’t have it both ways.”
Eanan’s lips curled. “I’ll give that some thought.”
Chapter Five
Quill wandered down to the stream after dinner. She hadn’t eaten much, but her insides still threatened to push out what little she had gotten down. The burbling water called to her, and she sat on the bank with her knees against her chest.
Eanan—Grandfather, she supposed, though the term seemed strange to apply to a stranger—had enthralled her. His story about the water Speakers was the sort of thing she longed to be true—if only because it meant the voices in her dreams could be something other than what she feared, and that she could listen to them without losing her soul.
But Dad didn’t like Eanan, or Eanan’s plan. Potent suspicion rose off his aspect, as if he expected Eanan to betray them at any second, or as if this quest might put them in danger. She trusted her father. He was wise and kind and loving. Doubting him, desiring to find out more about this forbidden quest, would be the worst thing she could do.
She heard voices and sat up.
Trea and Brode walked towards her. Trea’s gaze darted from her boots, to the path before her, to the sky, anywhere she could avoid meeting Brode’s eyes. Quill shook her head. Those two needed to have a serious talk at some point. She’d almost said something to both of them so many times, but Mother had warned her about using her empathy to meddle. The couple settled on separate rocks across the stream from Quill.
“So, what do you think of Eanan and Gabrin?” Brode asked, staring at his feet.
Quill and Trea exchanged a glance.
“I think he’s talking to you,” Quill said.
“Huh, oh, yeah, you’ve been with them the longest.” Brode angled himself towards Trea.
She flushed. “I don’t know about Eanan. Father doesn’t trust him, so I don’t want to get too close.”
“And Gabrin?” Brode leaned nearer.
Trea held up her hands. “He’s charming. I hate charming.”
Brode smiled.
“You weren’t there for Eanan’s argument with Mom and Dad, though.” Quill kicked at the water.
Trea rubbed her arms. “I was sort of listening at the window.”
“Of course you were.” Quill rolled her eyes. “And you, Brode?”
“Pet asked me to help with the water, but Trea gave me the highlights. He really wants to open portals? Intentionally?”
“No, he wants to do it accidentally.” Trea scoffed.
“You know what I mean.” Brode bent down and splashed her.
She stuck her tongue out at him. “Yeah, he and Gabrin whispered a lot on the way here about their big, amazing plan to save the world. I don’t think he wants to admit it doesn’t really need saving. We’ve been fine since Pet was born. Her powers are under control, and no one knows where we are. Why poke the ant hill?”
“But what if he’s right? What if the other Elementals would be friendly?” Quill asked.
“Not worth the risk.” Trea picked up a rock the size of her head and dropped it into the water. Brode ducked away from the splash.
She stood and dusted her hands on her trouser legs. “I’m hungry. Let’s go see if the mayberries are ripe yet.”
Brode rose. They started off down the path, then Brode glanced back. “You coming, Quill?”
Quill shook her head.
After they departed, Quill picked herself up and headed in the opposite direction, into the woods. Empathics had an aptitude for water speaking. Did that mean the voices she heard were from the Water Realm? Why had they never spoken to her before? And why had they started now?
The light filtered through the trees, golden-hued and gentle. She wondered what the evening would be like with Dad and Eanan crammed into their tiny hut and Mom suffering in between. Sometimes being empathic was torturous.
A twig snapped, and her head jerked towards it. A man moved through the forest, a silhouette against the setting sun. He walked with quick steps, his head down and his hands behind his back.
“Eanan?” she called.
“Quill? Is that you?” He came to her side. “You really should call me ‘Grandpa.’”
“I’m just not used to it. I haven’t had a grandfather since Dad’s father died.”
He rubbed his chin. “I was meaning to ask what happened to him. That’s a shame. The war?”
She nodded.
“So many men lost … It’s a miracle humanity got through it.” His feet shuffled. “I was taking a walk to clear my head. Your father and I don’t see eye to eye, and the mood back at the house was hostile.”
“Dad wants to keep us safe. He loves us, you know.”
“Oh, I never doubted that. I suppose he sees me as the outsider, returned to cause trouble for your perfect little home.” He laughed. “Fun
ny, there was a time when I saw him as that, a young interloper intent on stealing my daughter. Seems as if he won that battle quite handily. Now my granddaughters see me as a stranger.”
“I don’t. I mean, I just met you but … I loved your story. It was wonderful. I always liked Mom’s tales about how the Realms used to live in peace.”
“It was certainly a better world when they did.”
A dusk-kite wheeled between the trees, scooping up insects. It landed in a nearby branch with a trilling cry.
“It’s not such a bad world now, is it?” Quill smiled.
Eanan sighed. “I suppose not. I just remember happier times, times when life meant more than survival, when you could take time for beauty, and knowledge was its own reward. Do you know what I did before the war?”
“No.”
“I was apprenticed to a bookbinder. Our shop had the only printing press in the northern territories.”
Her brows furrowed. “A what?”
“Exactly … It’s a machine you can use to make books. Imagine the ability to record and distribute information, to share stories.” He kicked at the ground. “Early in the war, the supplies out of the capital stopped. Shops like my master’s closed down. No one had time for ‘luxuries’ anymore. And I went from being an apprentice bookbinder to a full time soldier.” He cast her a sad smile, the fading light shading the hollows of his eyes and making him appear far older. “I think that’s why I’m so obsessed with recovering our past. Do you ever think about what your life would’ve been like if not for the war?”
She bit her bottom lip. “My parents met because of the war, in a refugee camp after Dad joined the militia.”
“Yes, believe it or not, I was there when it happened.”
“Well, I just mean, if not for the war, I probably wouldn’t have a life at all. Dad would have never left his family’s village in the Mountain’s Feet and Mom would’ve been wherever you were before the war.”
Eanan raised his eyebrows. “I suppose some good comes out of all evil, doesn’t it? Your grandmother, Sarra, likes to say we can’t curse the Creator’s plan because we don’t know the full tale.”
“Mom says something similar.”
“She learned from the best.” He tilted his head. “You remind me of her a good deal, when she was younger.”
They stood in silence. Crickets sang out in the distance, and fading light flickered on the horizon.
“We should head back before it gets any darker.” He offered her his hand, and she took it.
“Could you tell me more about the Evermirror?” she asked. “I want to know everything about it.”
***
Eanan rolled over onto his side and groaned. The straw-stuffed mattress might as well have been rock-stuffed for how unyielding it was. Sunlight filtered through the open door. Shapes moved back and forth, breaking the light for a moment, then disappearing. Happy voices hummed.
“Is Eanan up yet?” Quill asked.
“No,” Willa replied. “He had a long journey yesterday. We should let him sleep.”
The savory scent of cured meat tickled his nose, and his stomach grumbled.
“All right,” Quill said. “Do you need any more help with dishes?”
“No. Why don’t you chase after your sister and Brode? I’m sure they could use some help with the firewood.”
Quill’s footsteps faded in the distance. Eanan slipped his hands behind his head. The aches faded from his body. In a moment he’d have the strength to rise.
He thought over the night before, telling the story of the Evermirror to Quill. Regretfully, he knew very few facts, but speculation was just as interesting. She’d eaten it up, wide-eyed and open-hearted. So much like her mother, or at least like her mother used to be.
He rolled out of bed and slipped on his worn boots.
Willa looked up from a basin in front of the window. “Oh, you’re awake.”
He crossed the room to stand at her side. “Yes. Where’s Gabrin?” He motioned to the empty mattress beside his own.
“He rose early. Only stayed for a few bites of breakfast. Said something about mapping the area.” She shrugged.
“Ah, yes, that’s a hobby of his. He’s a fine cartographer, and the islands offered little challenge for him.”
She motioned towards the table. A slab of cured venison and a mound of grain-mash sat on an earthen plate. “I put some aside for you, but it’s probably cold by now. Karvir brought back salt from Northport, so I used it in the mash. Everyone was gobbling it up like … well, deer at a salt lick, though I suppose that’s a bit spot on.” She laughed.
He sat down and took up a spoon. “I’ve been on traveler’s rations for over a month. This will be a feast.” Shoveling a heaping spoonful into his mouth, he closed his eyes for a moment. Then he swallowed and took a second bite. “Speaking of which, where is Karvir?”
“Hunting with Freda. Two extra mouths means our supplies need to be bolstered, at least in the short term.” Willa whisked a cloth over a pot and hung it from the rafters. She tossed the murky water out into the yard. “There. All done with the dishes. Would you like some tea?”
He shook his head. “There’s no need for Karvir to worry about food. We won’t be staying long. I promised Gabrin our trip would only be delayed a few days. He’s young and impatient, but right in some ways. If I let myself get sidetracked, we’ll never find the Evermirror.”
“What does Mother think of this quest?”
He cleared his throat. “Mother … Sarra and I were never quite the same after we left Forra. I think she blamed me for separating you from the rest of the family, that maybe if I’d been less aggressive, given you more time, that Karvir would’ve yielded and come with us, or maybe I would’ve changed my mind.” Sarra’s face, her warm hazel eyes and long suffering smile, flashed through his brain, but he pushed it aside. “ʻWater in our wake,ʼ she kept saying, but still, it was never the same. When I found a group willing to risk the journey back to Forra, she said she couldn’t stand losing any more children and wanted to stay on the Islands with Val and Mara and their families.”
Willa’s eyes widened. “So you just left her?”
He shrugged.
“Are you going to go back?” she asked.
“Maybe. It depends on how this venture ends. We’re both older. Priorities change.”
Her mouth formed a hard line. She slid into a chair across the table from him. “Still, she’s your wife. That bond is sacred, to Mother especially. To allow anything but death to separate you—”
“And you’ve never spent time away from Karvir in all these years?” He raised his eyebrows.
“Not by choice.”
Eanan steepled his fingers and leaned over his plate. She looked so different from how he remembered. Wisps of white faded the gold of her hair, and shadows rested under her eyes. “Willa, are you happy?”
“Of course.”
“All I know is what I see. You’re hiding in the middle of nowhere, with a burnt-out shell that was once your husband—”
“Don’t talk about him that way!” She stood up. Her eyes flashed. “Father, Karvir’s form might have changed, but only because he went through hell to save the rest of us.”
“So that’s why you stay with him? To pay some sort of debt.”
“I stay with him because I love him, because he loves me, and because he’s the best man, the best father, I’ve ever known.” She strode to the fireplace. “I think I want some tea, even if you don’t.”
He rubbed the tips of his fingers together. “The Willa I raised would’ve jumped at a chance to explore new worlds. It isn’t like you to limit yourself.”
“Father, the Willa you raised was a child. I’ve lived more than half my life away from you. Is it so hard to believe I’ve changed? And maybe you didn’t know me as well as you thought. From my standpoint, either you’ve changed or I didn’t know you.”
“What’s that mean?” He frowned.
&
nbsp; “It means you’ve always been stubborn and impulsive and even a bit of a bully, but I never thought you would abandon Mother.”
Eanan pushed back his chair. “Abandon? If anything, she abandoned me! I offered her a chance to be part of this quest, to come as my healer—”
“Like you ‘offered’ Karvir a chance to accompany us overseas?”
“That’s your husband speaking, not you.” He scowled.
Willa’s hands clenched. “No, this is me speaking. You give up on what you can’t manipulate, and maybe I shouldn’t be surprised Mother finally had enough of it. Excuse me.”
She put the tea kettle aside and pushed past him out the door.
Eanan exhaled. He used to be so good at talking to people, at getting them to see things his way, but now … now every discussion seemed like running into a stone-wall.
***
Soot licked at the ground below the hanging deer, whimpering when he couldn’t reach the meat.
Karvir chuckled and tossed him a hoof. The old dog caught it mid air and sat down to crunch on the bones.
“I am going to clean up.” Freda glanced at her red-tainted hands. “I hate butchering.”
“It’ll be worth it when we have full bellies over the next week, longer if we smoke it.” Karvir couldn't actually eat, but hunting was honest work and allowed him to provide for his family. He wasn’t much of a hand at gardening: too much water involved.
Freda disappeared towards the stream. Soot picked up his hoof and trotted off in the other direction, tail waving like a flag. Karvir chuckled. He faded and half-walked-half-floated towards the cabin.
As he passed the lean-to where they kept animal feed, he heard whimpering. He poked his head in and found Willa, her back to him, leaning up against a stack of hay.
“Are you all right?”
She started and whipped about, dabbing at her face with her apron. Red rimmed her eyes.
Karvir’s core flared hot. “Willa, what’s wrong? What happened?”
She dropped her eyes. “Nothing I … I had a fight with my father. It was silly, really. He’s a grown man. Why should I care how he lives his life?”