She was afraid to let him get close, but couldn’t stand to have him gone. What was wrong with her? She had expressed her love to him, but he had said nothing in return. Did he feel the same?
The brilliant glare of the armor faded slowly. The sword seemed to retract into DeMunth’s arm. The shield shrank until it was a small button on his sleeve. The helmet faded into his skull, and the breastplate and gauntlets and all the rest just seemed to melt away. They were still there—Ember could feel the buzz of life emanating from him, something different than his own energy—but they were no longer visible.
Ember released a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding and went to DeMunth, who was examining his hands and arms with amazement. She reached out and touched his hand, just to be sure it truly was flesh. It was warm and soft and strong—just as his hand ought to be. She took both of them in her own and squeezed, meeting his eyes, then turned and faced Mahal, still not sure what to say. Mahal took the chance for speech away from her.
“DeMunth, my boy, have you not noticed the draw you feel toward young Ember here?” Mahal put his hands behind his back and walked in a slow circle around them. “Can you not feel the tie, the chain that binds you?”
Ember startled at his use of the word “Chain” after what she had seen earlier.
Her friend glanced at her and nodded slowly. “I have, sir. Yes, I’ve felt it.”
Mahal chuckled softly. “Good. The greatest purpose the Armor of Light serves is that of protecting the Chosen One. Ember is the servant of white magic. My servant, just as her father is my servant, though in a different capacity,” the Guardian said, stopping in front of them. “Know this, my son. Your greatest call is to keep her safe. Guard her with your life, your light, your breath, for only she can bring the colors of magic together once more and heal our world.”
DeMunth dropped Ember’s hand as he fell to one knee before Mahal. Under other circumstances she would have rolled her eyes, but this moment felt sacred somehow. She stood at his side and watched as Mahal placed his hands on top of DeMunth’s head. A light bell-tone rang out through the room at the touch, and DeMunth seemed visibly shaken and strengthened by the act. He came to his feet once more, and Mahal took both their hands in his own.
“My children, there is a mighty task before you. One that will involve much sacrifice and pain, but in the end, you will find joy like none other has seen, not since the hundred guardians were spawned from the tree of life.” A flash of memory crossed Mahal’s face and then disappeared. “Now listen closely, for my time here is almost gone.”
Ember startled at that. “What? No! How else am I supposed to learn? I need—” she started, but he cut her off with the shake of his head. “You have enough, my child. All you need to know is inside you. Just trust it.” He turned to DeMunth. “Guard her with every bit of you, my son. She will save us all in the end, if she can only live long enough to take the chances given her.” He then turned to Ember and took both of her hands in his own. “Go with my blessing, Ember Shandae.” With his words came a blanket of warmth that settled over her soul. “You have found one of the keystones of Rasann, but there are six more. One of the holders will soon be on her way. The others will find you as the time is right. When all of the keystones are together, you must bind them and use their light to heal the net of magic.”
Ember was sure her eyes were as large as saucers. “But how—”
Mahal cut her off once more. “You will know when the time is right. I shall never be far away, and my servants shall be even closer still. And yes, my child, that includes your father. You shall see him again.” The wave of relief Ember felt over that was almost more than she could bear, but she tried to set it aside and listen.
“Now, the first thing you must do is speak to Ezeker. He must know what is happening. Tell him the time of the Chosen One is here, and he must send you out in search of the stones.” Mahal stared off into the distance behind them. “He also needs to know that S’Kotos is bent on destroying the mage academy and will very nearly succeed. He needs to prepare now, for if he waits even another day, the cause will be lost and S’Kotos will have won.”
Mahal’s gaze came back to the two of them. “Now go! Find Ezeker and deliver my words. You have enough, my daughter. Have no fear.” He caressed Ember’s face, then disappeared in the same mist with which he had taken his table and food.
Ember and DeMunth looked at each other, overwhelmed by what they’d just heard, then with resolve in his eyes, DeMunth pulled Ember toward the wall and waited for her to take him through.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Kayla shouted for joy when the shadow weavers disappeared, though she wasn’t very happy about Jayden taking off with her jeweled sheath. She only had two things that had belonged to her father, and that was one of them.
She turned away from the water that had shown her the battle and looked at Felandian. He was so handsome with his long, curly hair and regal nose. “Did we really just do that? she asked.
He smiled and put an arm around her. “We really just did. Pretty amazing, wouldn’t you say?”
“Oh, yes,” she answered, unable to fight the giddy joy that resulted from a battle well fought and won. She was actually thankful for it. It was a much better feeling than the numb emptiness she’d arrived with and the explosion of emotion after.
“And now it is time for you to go,” her father said, taking her hands and gently squeezing.
Her face fell. “Really? Already? But we hardly got to talk.” She knew she was whining, but she couldn’t help herself.
“No, we did much better than just talk, wouldn’t you say? We saved your friends and you received the comfort you needed. Do you think you can go on now?” he asked, reminding her of the loss she still had to face. She swallowed hard.
“I think so. I will always miss Brant. He was my best friend. And strange as it sounds, having him as part of the flute makes things even harder.”
Felandian nodded. “I believe I can understand that. Seeing him is a constant reminder of that which you lost, and his changes make it impossible to pick up where you left off.”
She nodded. “Exactly! I don’t know who he is anymore, or how to treat him. I guess all I can do is what I’ve always done—take it one step at a time.” Those words said, she reached out and embraced her father. “Thank you for being here for me,” she whispered in his ear. “It meant more than I can ever tell you.” She pulled back to arms’ length, then kissed him on the cheek.
Releasing her, Felandian brought his hands together in front of him and bowed his head. It was his way of saying “I love you.” Kayla appreciated it, but it wasn’t enough for her. Laughing, she threw herself back into her father’s arms and squeezed him tight. “I love you, Daddy,” she said, calling him by the name he had always been in her heart.
Tears actually sprang to his eyes. She saw before he could blink them away. “I love you too, Kay,” he answered with the nickname he’d given her as a babe. It felt so good, so normal to stand here with him. She couldn’t help but wish they could meet in person, and she could tell he felt the same way. He squeezed her hand as if he didn’t want to let go.
Finally he released her. “It’s time to go,” he said. “If you wait much longer, they will worry as to why you won’t awaken.” He put his hand in the small of her back and gently pushed her toward the water. “Go. I’ll be here the next time you need me.”
Kayla believed that. He had nearly made up for all the missing years with his help today. She finally knew that he loved her, not just in her mind, but in her heart and soul as well. “Good-bye, Daddy. I’ll see you again soon.”
He winked at her. “You can count on it.”
Kayla smiled and stepped into the water. In an instant she was awake. She stretched and yawned, and though she was still exhausted, she felt better in ways she never would have if she’d stayed here with T’Kato and the others. Sitting up, she saw that she was not alone.
“
I was worried,” the tattooed hulk of a man said. “You wouldn’t wake, but I know you helped with the battle.” He didn’t question her directly, but it was inferred in his tone.
“I dreamed,” she said. “I was with my father and he taught me how to fight from the dream world. The power of the flute is stronger there and my body needed the rest here. I’ve not had much sleep.”
She knew those words went without saying, but she said them anyway. T’Kato, in his usual silent way, digested this for a moment before answering. “Your help was vital to winning this battle, and since you did not play the flute, the Ne’Goi did not know you were with us. I believe that is why they left in the end. Thank you,” he said, and left it at that.
From T’Kato, those words were raving praise, but she offered him the same dignified, wordless response he would have given. She slowly nodded her head, acknowledging his words, then stood up. The boxcar was hot and sweat ran down her entire body in streams. She wished she could bathe.
The boxcar hit a rut and bounced, throwing her off balance. She caught herself on the counter to her left and regained her footing, then, taking up her bag, she moved toward T’Kato and the back of the wagon. “It’s too hot in here and I need air. Would you mind?” she asked, pointing at the door. T’Kato strolled to the back of the wagon and threw open the top half of the door and latched it against the wall, then opened the bottom half and did the same. They sat down beside one another, their legs dangling out the back.
They sat in silence for long moments before T’Kato gestured at Hadril and Graylin with his head. “They will have questions for you. Many questions.”
She nodded. “I’ll answer as I can. When the time is right.”
Knowing the brothers sat in the driver’s seat reminded her of Jayden and his theft. “Did you know Jayden stole my sheath before he left with the Ne’Goi?”
T’Kato grinned. “I hadn’t, but I’m not surprised. He’s been eyeballing it since we met the travelers, and fingering it since I first took it from you. That’s why I asked for it,” he said.
Kayla turned and leaned against the side of the doorway to better face T’Kato. “What do you mean?”
He untied a small bag that hung at his side and handed it to her.
Kayla pulled on the drawstring and opened it up, then dumped the contents in her hand. Jewels. Precious stones of all size, color, and cut sparkled in her hand. She looked up questioningly at T’Kato, whose grin had turned mischievous. It was a look she had not seen on him before.
He put his back against the frame as she did and faced her. “Do you remember when I told you at Dragonmeer that your sheath was candy for a thief, and you were a walking target?”
Kayla nodded.
“I had Graylin replace the gems with fakes.” He pointed at the stones in her hand. “Those are the true stones from your sheath. I am sorry you lost the leather, but at least you have the valuable stones.”
Kayla could have kissed the man. Jayden had stolen fakes—he was going to be so disappointed when he realized it. Somehow she had a hard time feeling bad for him. Instead, she threw back her head and laughed. When she stopped, she pointed a long finger at T’Kato and said, “You, my friend, are a genius. Thank you.”
He nodded. “It was my pleasure, Lady Kayla.”
Just before reaching the next village, Hadril pulled off the road and came around back.
“I don’t know how you did it while sound asleep, Lady Kayla, but thank you for your help. I believe things would have turned out much differently if you had not interfered and brought your elemental friend to do battle with the Ne’Goi. I thank you.” He bowed and offered his arm to help her down. “I hate to ask anything more of you, but we need to get these arrows out of the boxcar before we go into town. It is better for business if people don’t ask questions.”
Kayla agreed and nodded her affirmation.
“Would you mind helping us and perhaps smoothing out the holes the arrows leave behind?” he asked, sounding hopeful.
Kayla wasn’t sure what she could and couldn’t do, but she would certainly try, and she told him as much.
“That’s good enough for me,” he answered, and then the lot of them set to work. T’Kato and Kayla worked the right side and Hadril and Graylin the left. She ended up being the one to climb onto the roof and pull the arrows out there, as she was the lightest and most spry. The men tried to object, but they knew she was right, so their objections were half-hearted at best.
Once the boxcar was free of arrows, Graylin gathered them up into bundles and tied string around them. When he saw Kayla watching, he explained. “There’s no point in wasting perfectly good arrows. I can use them or sell them, but either way, they are of value.”
And now came the challenge. Kayla had the flute in her satchel, but she didn’t want to play it, not with people near. The last thing she wanted to do was draw the shadow weavers here, so she reached with her own energy and just touched the flute’s case, feeling the power buzz within. It whispered to her, and rather than try to guess what she needed to do, she asked the flute, just as she had in Sarli’s kingdom before healing the fissures in the hotpot. Images sprang immediately to mind. She hadn’t expected that, but thankful for the instruction, she turned around, and running her hand along the surface, she walked entirely around the boxcar, smoothing the dents and holes in the wood until it looked as if it were freshly painted. She hadn’t been sure she could do it, but it appeared she could.
Pleased she could do something more to help, and happy for the distraction it provided her, she admired her handiwork. Hadril and Graylin were full of praise and gratitude, and she accepted it graciously.
Hadril pulled her aside and spoke to her after that. “We had thought a stop in this village would be good for all of us and keep us invisible to the Ne’Goi. But—can we perform without the Sapphire Flute? I don’t know about you, but I have no wish to call them here, with so many people around.”
Kayla stopped him there. “Neither do I. We’re minus four, though. Can we do without them?”
Hadril nodded. “We’ve been doing this by ourselves for so many years, a show with only a few of us is no problem at all. It may not be as entertaining as the last, but the village will not know that.” He was quiet for a moment, then met her eyes. “Are you sure you’ll be okay with this? I know you have suffered a tremendous loss—”
“I’ll be fine,” she interrupted. She couldn’t afford to think of Brant at the moment.
But then again . . . “What about using Brant’s elemental spirit as part of the show? He would be unique enough to replace Niefusu and Jihong and their horses, don’t you think?”
Hadril scratched at his beard, thinking. “Perhaps. Can you control him without playing the flute?”
As unladylike as it sounded, she snorted. “He’s sentient. All I need do is ask. He is still new to this elemental business, so he cannot stay for long, but he could give a show while he was here. Shall I ask him?”
Hadril hesitated only a moment. “Certainly. Tell me what he’s willing to do.”
“I’ll do better than that,” she said, smiling, and touched the flute. “Brant. Will you come out?” she asked, and even before she finished, he was there, looking nearly normal, though he was still tinged blue and slightly transparent.
“Yes?” he asked.
“Would you be willing to help us with our show today? Get the people’s minds off things and bring something unique to their lives?”
“You mean something like this?” he asked, turning instantly into his elemental form with its sharp features, bulging muscles, and whirlwind bottom. Hadril gasped and took a step back before Brant dropped the form and became his spirit self again.
Kayla glanced at Hadril, who seemed speechless. “Yes, something like that. Just don’t hurt anyone, okay?”
He looked offended. “I only hurt those who wish to harm you,” he answered before disappearing.
Hadril looked partially relieved
he was gone, but his eyes glowed with excitement. “He would be a fantastic addition to the show. Let me work out the schedule, and I’ll get back with you shortly. Why don’t you get something to eat while we wait? I’ve got apples and cheese in the boxcar.”
Kayla shook her head. She was still too sick over her experience with Jihong and losing Brant—the thought of food turned her stomach. “No, I’ll be okay. I’ll get something after the show. It’s still early in the day.”
“As you wish,” he said before jogging to the boxcar and talking to T’Kato and Graylin.
Kayla took a moment to look around her. This village was nothing like the one they had left. It was wealthier, for one thing, and it was larger. The fields were full and ripe, the roads better kept, and she suspected Graylin would have less work and Hadril more. It would be an interesting evening.
The arrows removed, the dents fixed, and a schedule in place, they drove into town. This time, instead of parking in a fallow field, they drive directly to the center of the town near its well and set up shop. Graylin went to the inn to inform the innkeep that they had arrived. He would spread the word more quickly than a town crier.
Or maybe he would use the town crier, Kayla thought as a man left the inn and walked the roads, yelling out the news that a show would begin at noon, which came much faster than Kayla had imagined. The battle with the Ne’Goi had seemed to go on for so long, and she begun her day so early, that it felt as if it should be nearing sundown, but it was far from it.
Still exhausted, she followed their schedule. Graylin did an archery exhibition and created wire animals for the children. Hadril used one of his potions to transform the blacksmith into a rabbit, and then back into a man. The people loved that one. Kayla played her silver flute, then drew Brant from the Sapphire Flute and let him show off for the crowd.
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