by Kara Timmins
He couldn’t help but think about Corwin and Francena. He could go to them right now. He almost did it. He wanted to, more than anything. But there was still one more thing to do first.
70
Eloy only slept for a few hours, and Timyr and Midash were already up when he walked out into the back room of the house. He spent the rest of the day with the two brothers, whose roughhousing was that of two much younger men. They were like two wolf cubs. By midday, whatever awkwardness there had been between the two men was gone, and Eloy melded into the background with the forest.
The vibrant life of the land, the fitting background to this new beginning, was hard for Eloy to pull himself away from. Before he knew it, lounging on the front steps of the house had swallowed the day.
“Anything sound good for dinner?” Midash asked Eloy in the early evening.
“None for me,” Eloy said, getting up. “I should be going.”
“Really? I thought you’d stay a few days,” Midash said.
“There are things I have to do. But I’ll be back. Soon.”
“Okay,” Midash said. “But do me a favor, and don’t do what Aerelion did to my parents. Really come back.”
“I will,” Eloy said, giving Midash a hug and two firm slaps on his back.
He turned to Timyr. “Where’s Vivene?” Eloy asked.
“She’s inside,” Timyr said. “We set her up in one of the rooms that has a window out to the woods. When do you think you’ll be back?”
“How does a couple weeks sound?” Eloy asked.
“Sounds good to me,” Timyr said. “I don’t want to be a bother, but do you think we could stop back at the other house? There’s some things I’d like to get.”
“You got it,” Eloy said.
Timyr looked off into the trees. “It’s so strange to think about. Being so far so fast.”
“Can’t say I’m used to it,” Eloy said. “I doubt I ever will be, but I’m grateful this is what he chose for me. It means I can say ‘see you soon’ instead of ‘goodbye.’”
“Sounds good to me.” Timyr pulled Eloy into a hug. “I’ll see you soon.”
Eloy looked at the two brothers, so similar in so many ways, and closed his eyes.
71
When he returned to Valia, Eloy focused on Malatic, thinking he would find himself back at Neasa’s house. But when he opened his eyes, that’s not what he found. Instead of Neasa’s stairway, he found himself in front of the central dining hub of Valia. The evening buzzed with the flow of people moving about, and Eloy fell into the crowd.
Valia seemed more crowded than it had before. Now that he was paying attention, none of the homes seemed to be vacant. Many of the faces around him were strangers, but they all had the same ease, decidedly Valian.
Though he didn’t recognize most of the people around him, that wasn’t true of their awareness of him. He saw their darting glances and half-smiles. He bounded up the stairway to the dining area.
He saw the group he was looking for as clearly as if a light were illuminating them among the others. Malatic sat between Neasa and Critiko, and though his face still looked a bit hollow, the vibrancy Eloy hadn’t seen in so long was back. Critiko put two cups in front of Malatic, one big and one small. Neasa looked concerned, but didn’t stop what was about to happen. Eloy thought about rushing forward, and a protective part of him almost did, but he kept his place in the corner by the front door, watching, frozen in curiosity.
Malatic put the little cup up to his mouth and tipped it back. His eyes widened. Neasa put the tall cup in his hand and brought it up to his lips. He chugged the contents, except for what dribbled down his chin. Critiko and Gwyn cackled with laugher.
“I’ll have another one of those!” Malatic called out.
Critiko put an arm over Malatic’s shoulders and shook him back and forth playfully. “Another? Atta boy!”
Eloy didn’t know how long he would have stood there. He didn’t want to move for fear that he would disrupt the moment.
Neasa saw him first. “Eloy! Come! Have a drink and some food. I know you’ve been dreaming about a meal here almost as much as I have.”
She wasn’t wrong. He walked forward and took a seat next to Gwyn, across the table from Critiko, Malatic, and Neasa. “Sounds great. I’ll pass on the short cup, though.”
“Oh, come on!” Critiko cried. “We’re celebrating!”
“If we’re celebrating,” Eloy said, “then you shouldn’t want to punish me.” Eloy winked at Critiko before turning to Malatic. “How’re you feeling?”
“You mean before I drank whatever that was, or now?”
“Before would probably give me a better idea of the truth.”
“Better. Alive. Confused. The alive part is the one that stands out the most.” Malatic wrapped his fingers over Neasa’s resting hand on the table.
“Neasa told you what happened? How we got here?” Eloy asked Malatic.
“She told me, but I still don’t know if I really understand. But that’s okay. I don’t need to. Valia is better than I imagined.” He tugged on Neasa’s braid. “It’s a place of beauty.”
“If there’s anything you want to know—” Eloy started, but was cut off by another round of cups filling the tabletop.
“If there’s anything important,” Malatic said, putting a little cup to his mouth, “I expect I won’t remember soon.”
72
“There’s something I want to show you,” Eloy said to Neasa as they made their way back to her house.
Malatic stumbled between Gwyn and Critiko, the two older men holding him up.
“He shouldn’t have had that third one,” Neasa said. “What do you want to show me?”
“It’s back at your house.”
“Well, that’s convenient,” she said, her smile sweet. They were in front of her stairway. “You sleeping here tonight?”
“I’ll stay with Critiko, if that’s okay.”
“Okay by me,” Critiko said, a few steps behind, struggling to get Malatic up the stairs.
Neasa opened the door and gasped. “What . . . ?”
They all went into the house. Neasa led the way. Eloy lit the hearth and illuminated the items piled on and around the table. Neasa went to the stack of books first. She ran her hand over the bindings.
“I thought you would want those during Malatic’s downtime,” Eloy said. “Turns out, maybe he won’t have much.”
Malatic slumped down to the bed. “She might still need ’em.”
“This is all from your treasure room?” Neasa asked.
Eloy nodded. “There are a lot of sacks of dry plants and herbs. Strikes me that those were probably meant for you, anyway.”
She opened one of the sacks. “This isn’t a bag of plants.”
“Yeah, there’s a lot of coin there too.”
“Oh, Eloy,” Neasa turned to him. “You know that’s not why I went with you.”
“I know. But I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you. Not by a long shot. I don’t want you, any of you, to ever feel like you need anything again. And I have plans for what we can do with a lot of it and how we can use it to benefit everyone.”
Neasa walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “That sounds like a great adventure. Thank you.”
Eloy wrapped his arms around her shoulders and put his cheek on the top of her head. “Thank you.”
73
“You know I love you,” Neasa said to Eloy the next morning. “But why are you still here?”
Eloy and Neasa sat at the table. Most of the morning consisted of light conversation as they waited for Malatic to wake. Eloy looked over at her in surprise.
“You know you can stay here as long as you want.” Neasa reached across the table and put her hand on his. “Forever, even. What I mean is, w
hy aren’t you with Francena and Corwin?”
Eloy bit at the edge of his thumb nail. “There were things I had to do first.”
Neasa lifted her eyebrows.
Eloy sighed. “I’m a little nervous, I guess. I don’t know why.”
“They’re waiting for you. They don’t know where you are or if you’re okay.”
Eloy looked at the bowl of fruit on the table. “You’re right.”
“Oh, say it again,” Neasa said, her eyes closed.
“You’re right. You’re always right.” Eloy laughed. “You sure everything is okay here?”
“Go,” Malatic groaned from the bed. “No one’s dying here.” He sat up. “Actually, I take that back.”
“Did you get any hepamut moss from Gwyn?” Eloy asked.
“Last night,” Neasa said. “Seriously. Go. We’ll see you soon.”
Eloy didn’t know why, but his heart was pounding. He took a shaky breath and tried to calm the sickening nervousness darting through his body. He closed his eyes and thought of Francena’s chestnut-colored hair, her bottomless wisdom, and her easy smile. He thought about how she felt like home. He thought of Corwin and his stories, his ability to be amazed by the world, even when he saw the worst in it, and his protective strength. Eloy thought of Curiol.
The air around him turned hot. The sun was more imposing in Curiol than in Valia, but its familiarity helped calm the electric anxiety bouncing up and down his body. He knew this heat. He opened his eyes and faced the house in front of him.
It looked the same as it had when he’d walked away from it that foggy morning so long ago, but everything around the house looked different. More homes had filled in around Francena and Corwin’s house. The smell of cooking food, browning meats, smoky fires, and nutty doughs ribboned through the air.
Smoke curled from a chimney in the roof in front of him. The fence was the same as it had been when Francena had charged out of the front door, her arrow pointed and ready. He wondered if she saw him now.
As he reached for the latch in the fence, he realized that he wasn’t alone. If fact, he hadn’t been alone since he’d gotten there. As he moved forward, he saw her little face behind the fence, her chestnut-colored head a foot lower than the top of the reeds.
Eloy froze. For a moment he thought he’d gone back in time. Her little face was so familiar—so precocious, her skin so tan and sun-kissed it looked iridescent—but her eyes were different than the ones he remembered. This little girl who looked so much like his sister gazed up at him with eyes as blue as deep ocean water. He knew that color too.
He opened his mouth to say hello. She opened hers too. He barely got a sound out before her shrill screech filled the neighborhood.
The front door flew open and clacked against the side of the house—again, familiar. Her father’s protective rage burst through the yard toward the fence.
Eloy held up his hands. Despite the angry man coming toward him, his elation stepped to the forefront, pushing away any anxiety or fear. Corwin’s attitude swung from rage to joy midstep.
“No!” Corwin flung open the gate and threw his arms around Eloy’s waist, picking him up while jumping up and down. “Look at you! I can’t believe it!”
Through the bouncing, Eloy saw Francena run out of the house with a look of panic, then confusion, and finally recognition.
The little girl wailed. Corwin put Eloy down and went back into the yard to pick her up.
“Raley,” Corwin cooed. “Don’t cry, baby girl. This is your Uncle Eloy.”
Hearing the new title hit Eloy between the ribs. Before he could react, Francena was in front of him, looking up through tears. She had little lines around her eyes and mouth. Little marks of the moments of joy she’d had without him. Eloy took her face in his hands and kissed her forehead.
“You came home,” she said.
“I told you I would.”
There was another voice crying from the inside of the house, a cry that came in shorter bursts: a baby. Eloy found himself standing in a whirlwind of beautiful chaos.
74
Despite Corwin’s need for the story of what had happened since they parted, Eloy found himself unable to say anything for a few days. He was mesmerized by the flurry of it all, and how in all of the movements, the house was a place of peace he had never known before.
He spent long stretches of time holding Maksen—the baby—and looking down at his tranquil little face. Maksen was born to a different world than his parents, and in looking at him, Aerelion’s words made sense. Of course Eloy would do whatever was necessary to keep his niece and nephew safe.
Raley spent the first day Eloy was back hiding behind her mother or father’s legs or behind corners, peeking up at him with wide blue eyes. By the second day, she found Eloy sitting on the front steps and gave him a wood carving of a horse.
“You’re going to ride the horse toward me from over there,” Raley said, pointing toward his left side.
“Okay,” Eloy said. “And then what do I do?”
Raley continued with her instructions for the rest of the morning, and by that evening, she was telling long, meandering stories, making them up as she went along.
Eloy found himself in an existence he had never known. Every pressing task was one he made for himself. Eventually, he told Francena and Corwin about the room and its riches. “I want to make sure you have whatever you want.”
“Funny,” Francena said. “I thought you’d already done that.”
The three talked about what they could do to expand trade routes, where to position better rest stops, and how to improve transportation from town to town. Francena glowed with ideas and dreams, and Eloy basked in its radiance.
When he wasn’t planning and thinking with his sister, he sat with Raley and listened to her stories, or heard Corwin tell his.
He was free.
Epilogue
Eloy looked up at the midafternoon sun. He hadn’t moved much all day. In fact, he’d woken late and had somehow still managed to fall asleep again under the big tree in the front of the house. His journey from his bed to the stamped-down grasses of the yard had been a short one.
Corwin joined him soon after and lay at Eloy’s side. He talked about something that was happening in Curiol—inoffensive village talk—but like a song Eloy would never forget, the cadence of Corwin’s voice lulled him to sleep.
When he woke again, Corwin was dozing with Raley curled under his arm like a kitten. The air smelled sweet with the perfume of spring, and Eloy watched as people passed. A few waved, some more sheepishly than others. Eloy had been in Curiol for few weeks, and the news of his arrival had reached from edge to edge of town. Probably farther than that.
“People have gotten friendlier since the first time we came through, huh?” Corwin said. “But maybe they’re just nice to us because of Francena.”
Eloy smiled. “That’s definitely it. I still wouldn’t take a chance in the trade square. I’m glad we don’t have to do that ever again.”
“Ah, it’s not so bad. We should go spend a full day there soon. There are good people who I’m sure want to meet you. We’ll need their help when we’re ready to put some of our plans together. And it won’t be too long before Prescott and Leela come up for a visit. They always stay a few days before heading home.”
“Really? How are they?”
“They’re good. They have a little more help these days than they did the last time you saw them.” Corwin looked down at Raley. “If you know what I mean.”
Eloy smiled. “Good.”
“They start their trip down through Cinecho and come back up, just like the first time. They say, ‘Why bother with what works.’”
Eloy felt his muscles tighten. Corwin didn’t fill the silence, and Eloy looked over to see his friend’s grin.
“What?” Eloy
asked.
“Ask.”
“Ask what?”
“Oh, come on.”
Eloy looked back toward the road. “How’s everyone in Cinecho?”
Corwin groaned. “Close enough, I guess. Everyone’s good.”
Eloy dropped his head. “How is she?”
Corwin laughed. “She’s good. Sounds like she’s just as good at keeping the town on the right track as she ever was. I hear from everyone she’s a great town lead.”
“Does she . . .” Eloy looked down at the still-sleeping Raley.
“No. I don’t think so. I haven’t really asked about that part of her life and I haven’t heard, but I don’t think so. You should go see her. Now that you can just . . . do that.”
“I don’t know,” Eloy said. Heat rose through his neck. “It’s been a long time.”
“So? You’re friends, right? She’d be happy to see you. You should go.”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, I think you should. Think about it.”
“Daddy?” Raley was awake. “I’m hungry.”
“You’re hungry?” Corwin said. “Well, you’d better get to the trade square and start haggling. How much grain do you think we can get for that wooden horse you have?”
“No!” Raley cried.
“Fine,” Corwin said, standing up and slinging Raley over his shoulder. “I guess we better see what we have in the house.”
Eloy could hear Raley giggling even after the front door closed behind them.
He sat under the tree for the rest of the day, thinking. When the last line of sun dipped below the horizon, he got up and went inside.
The table was piled with roasted green vegetables and still-bubbling eggs in a pan of savory red tomatoes, four plates circled around it like a halo.
Eloy stood in the doorway. “I, um, I don’t think I’m going to be able to do dinner tonight.”
“Is everything okay?” Francena looked concerned.