Aerenden The Child Returns Read online

He saw the kiss, Nick realized, and felt panic rise in his throat. He swallowed hard to control it. “Are you going to report me?”

  “It’s not the Elders’ business, despite what they think,” Cal told him. “Was that the only time?”

  “No.” Nick rose and walked to the center of the room, to the patch of sunlight and stared down at the circle it traced on the floor. It had been no more than a handful of days since it had happened, but it felt like a lifetime ago. Still, the joy and agony of it remained.

  “How many times have you kissed?”

  “Only once before, on Earth shortly before Uncle James and Aunt Viv died.” Nick turned to face Cal. “I know what you said about Viv’s vision, but I also know I could have prevented it.”

  “Somehow I doubt that,” Cal responded. “You’ve always been the type to take on responsibility that wasn’t yours. Sometimes that’s a good thing, but in situations like this, it’s not.”

  Nick clasped his hands behind his back. “I got your brother killed, Cal. You shouldn’t be trying to comfort me. You should be angry at me.”

  Cal raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? Let’s hear your reasoning then. I’m assuming it has to do with this forbidden kiss?”

  Nick nodded and his eyes drifted to Meaghan. She lay before him, so beautiful it made his heart jump, and so unreachable it made him ache. “I didn’t think it would matter on Earth,” he said. “It was irrational to think that way. I realize that, but I wanted to know what it felt like to touch her. Although the kiss lasted less than a minute, it was long enough. It seemed to have had a lasting effect. When the Mardróch attacked, I couldn’t sense them in time.” He passed a hand over his eyes, and faced Cal again. “It’s been difficult to sense them since.”

  Cal stroked his beard. “So you think your powers have grown weak because you kissed her?”

  “Yes.”

  “They haven’t.” Cal stood and met Nick in the patch of sunlight. Raising a hand, he clasped the side of Nick’s neck. “Feel what you feel, Nick. It’ll work out. I promise.”

  “You know the dangers as well as I do.”

  “I do. Maybe more than you do. That’s the curse of age, but the benefit is wisdom. I realize you think you lost some of your power to her, but you didn’t. When that happens to you, whichever girl it happens with, you’ll understand. It’s all or nothing. There’s no such thing as partway.”

  Nick searched the sincerity in Cal’s face and the fear that had resided as a steady fist around Nick’s heart since his last day on Earth dissolved on an exhale. “Then what’s wrong with my sensing power?”

  “It’s not only yours. Garon found an ancient spell that mutes a Guardian’s ability to sense danger from a distance. It took a large amount of power to cast, but he has enough Mardróch now to do it. Most likely, the spell is one of the few that works on Earth.” He picked up the torch again and it flared in his hand. “I couldn’t tell you why we can’t sense them now, though. A few of them are close enough. I hope they haven’t found a spell that blocks our ability to sense them entirely.”

  “I don’t think they have,” Nick assured him. “Our sensing powers work on the same frequency, no matter what we’re sensing. My guess is that the crystals don’t just block the Mardróch’s ability to sense teleport trails, they block all sensing. Since Meaghan’s power works differently, it isn’t blocked.”

  “That never occurred to me,” Cal confessed. “But you were always the logical one. At least now I know to check before I leave the cave. Speaking of, if you don’t mind keeping quiet for a minute, I need to take another look.”

  He picked up the torch and closed his eyes.

  §

  THE MARDRÓCH search party remained until late afternoon. Nick made them wait a half hour longer before deciding it would be safe to travel, then Cal pushed the rock aside, opening the tunnel once more. Nick crawled in first, pushing the backpack in front of him, and Meaghan followed. Cal went last, closing off the tunnel entrance behind him.

  Although the jicab root still kept Meaghan’s pain manageable, it helped little in the tunnel. Every shuffle felt like sandpaper dragging across her leg. Each pebble became a searing knife, stabbing her as she crawled over it. Even her own weight became intolerable, forcing agony through her body whenever her injured leg had to bear it. Although it took only minutes to travel the tunnel’s short distance, it felt like hours. By the time sunlight touched her face, it met tears. She sat on the ground and worked hard to control the urge to scream.

  Nick checked her bandage to ensure it remained tight, and then turned to Cal. “She can’t walk,” he said as he drew the backpack over his shoulders, securing it in place. “We’ll take turns carrying her. How far do we have to go?”

  Cal pointed to the south. “About two miles through the field. Unfortunately, it’s all open, so we need to move fast. Should I give her more jicab root?”

  “Not a chance,” Meaghan responded. She managed a smile and wiped the tears from her cheek with the back of her hand. “Not if you’re carrying me. You’ll want to throw me if I take that stuff.”

  Cal chuckled and picked her up, cradling her in his arms as they set out across the field. He and Nick traded carrying her every quarter mile and they made good progress, covering the distance before the sun had finished hiding behind the horizon. Dusk turned trees into silhouettes of black against a deep red sky, and a mild breeze tickled daisies as it passed. The breeze brought a chill and Meaghan shivered, wishing she still had her sweater. The short-sleeved t-shirt she wore did little to keep her warm.

  Cal stepped onto a slab of granite flush with the ground and stopped. “Put her down,” he instructed Nick. “We’re here.”

  Nick eased her onto her feet, leaving an arm at her waist to give her support. Her leg throbbed, but she did her best to ignore it. She leaned against him, balancing her weight on her good leg as she scanned the area. Tall grass bloomed into weeds in front of them, its endless expansion broken only by the occasional tree or rock.

  “I don’t see anything,” she said.

  “You will,” Cal assured her. He puckered his lips, whistling one long, high pitch followed by two short, low ones, and then waited.

  A minute passed, then another. After a third had come and gone, a woman stood in front of them, seemingly created from air. She paused for a minute. Her jet-black hair danced along the breeze while she scanned their faces in the thickening darkness. When she saw Cal, she approached them, a large smile floating on top of full pink lips. Her smoke colored eyes twinkled in greeting. Her emotions welcomed with joy. And love, Meaghan realized. She felt the same love flowing from Cal.

  The woman took Nick’s hand and held it between her own. “You are welcome here, Nick,” she said, her voice soft and melodic. “You won’t recognize me, but I know you. I apprenticed under your mother when you were young. I’m Neiszhe. It’s good to see you again.”

  “Likewise,” Nick said. He nodded and she returned the gesture before releasing his hand.

  She moved to Meaghan next, taking her hand in the same manner. “You’re hurt,” she said. “I can feel the intensity of your pain, but it won’t last long. You’ll be healed by morning.”

  Meaghan almost wept with relief at her promise. “Thank you.”

  “It’s my gift. It’s my pleasure to share it with you, though I’m afraid I don’t know your name.”

  “Meaghan.”

  Neiszhe’s eyes widened. Awe and respect emanated from her. “I apologize, my Lady. I didn’t know. It’s an honor, a true honor.” She let go of Meaghan’s hand, then took a step back and curtsied.

  Confused, but not wanting to be impolite, Meaghan moved to mimic the gesture, stopping when Nick tightened his hand on her waist. “Don’t,” he whispered in her ear. “If anyone bows to you, nod in return.” He loosened his grip. “I’ll explain later. Don’t keep her waiting.”

  Neiszhe remained frozen in her curtsy and Meaghan took Nick’s advice, nodding to the woman. Neiszh
e offered another smile before straightening up and taking Meaghan’s hand in hers. “You are welcome here, my Lady,” she said, and then moved on to greet Cal with a kiss.

  Meaghan opened her mouth, intending to ask Nick for his explanation, but shock robbed her of the words. In front of them, the field began to ripple. Ripples dissolved into shimmers, blurring the landscape until the field no longer existed.

  In its place, an entire village materialized.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  STREET LIGHTS illuminated their path as they threaded their way through the village along packed dirt roads sprinkled with thin layers of gravel. Cal led the way, using side streets whenever possible. Even though Meaghan did not see many people, she sensed all of them, their emotions impossible to manage on top of her own increasing pain. She focused on Nick’s power again, and then sighed in relief when it worked to shut out their emotions almost as well as it had Cal’s.

  Cal managed to avoid all but a handful of villagers, but those people they encountered welcomed him back with a wave and an eye of curiosity for the woman in his arms. He responded to them, nodding or calling out a quick hello, but did not stop.

  The village consisted of twenty or thirty houses that would have fit well in a quaint New England town. Cheerful paint, clapboard siding, and wood shutters greeted them from one and two story homes maintained with pride. Meticulous lawns and bright flower gardens mimicked magazine photographs, creating a sense of cozy warmth cities of steel and glass skyscrapers could never accomplish. In front of some of the houses, small wood signs advertised shops. A tailor resided across the street from a General Store. A grocer faced a carpenter. And near the end of the village, they turned at a sign advertising medicines and herbs.

  A small stone path led them to the front door of a one-story cottage painted in baby blue with white trim. They entered into the main living room of the house. A plush tan couch and hardwood rocking chair offered inviting places to sit. Blankets and pillows tossed on furniture added warmth and color. And shelves lined with hard cover books showed varying interests in medical practices, baking, history, and gardening. They passed from that room into the kitchen. Cal set Meaghan down in a chair at the dining table before turning to a wood cooking stove monopolizing one wall of the room. He picked up several logs from a bin next to the stove.

  “I’ll light a fire,” he told Neiszhe. “It feels like it’ll be a cold night. Shall I assume it’ll also be a long one?”

  “I believe it will be,” she responded. “When you’re through building the fire, can you make Meaghan some jicab tea? I’m going to set up in the living room. If you can bring her when she’s done drinking, I’d appreciate it.”

  “Of course,” he agreed and she left the room. Nick took a seat at the table opposite Meaghan while Cal finished lighting a fire in the stove and put the kettle on to boil.

  Meaghan closed her eyes, hoping the tea would not take long. The jicab root no longer worked. She tried to focus on something other than the pain echoing through her body, but had little success. Her mind flashed to her meeting with Neiszhe. Nick’s explanation of the woman’s reaction would prove a good distraction, but Meaghan doubted she had the energy for it. Instead, she focused on the next question running through her head.

  “How do you buy things?” she blurted out, and then grimaced when Nick raised an eyebrow at her. “I saw the shops,” she told him. “But I don’t know how commerce works here. Do you have some sort of currency?”

  “Currency?” Cal asked, sitting down at the table with them. “What’s that?”

  “Money,” she told him.

  Cal’s blank stare was uncomprehending, and Nick chuckled beside him. “Money is pieces of paper and metal discs,” he explained. “The people on Earth work for them and then exchange them for what they need, like food.”

  “Got it.” Cal smiled. “So it’s like bartering.”

  “Sort of. They call it buying and selling. Someone who wants the product is buying and someone giving it is selling,” Nick said. “And it’s required and not optional. If they don’t have the money, they don’t get what they need, no matter how much they need it.”

  “Odd,” Cal muttered, standing up when the kettle whistled. “I’m glad we don’t do that here. I’d be in trouble. I’m not able to make enough spirit to get everything I need.”

  “So what sort of system do you use?” Meaghan asked. “You have shops, so you must have them for a reason.”

  “They aren’t shops,” Nick responded. “Though I can see how you would think that. They’re houses, like Neiszhe’s. The owners put up signs so people can find what they need. We don’t buy or sell things. We get them for free.”

  Meaghan frowned, considering what he had said. Money served the purpose of controlling supply and demand and this system did not seem to have any similar controls built into it. On top of that, she could not picture anyone working for free. “Aren’t people unhappy?” she finally asked. “Without payment, don’t they feel like slaves?”

  “Not at all,” Nick said. “What we do for work is natural to us. It extends from our powers and using our powers to benefit society as a whole benefits us, too. A shoemaker is gifted at making shoes, but not clothing, so he trades in a way. He gets the clothes whenever he needs them and the seamstress gets her shoes whenever her old ones wear out.”

  “Then how do you keep track?”

  Cal set a mug in front of her. Steam rose from it in curling tendrils and she clasped her hands around it, absorbing the warmth.

  “We don’t,” Cal answered her question. “There’s no point. People don’t take what they don’t need.” He sat back down and nodded toward her mug. “Drink your tea.”

  She raised it to her lips, blowing on it before taking a sip. It was all she could do not to spit it out. Squirreling her face, she gagged down another sip before continuing the conversation. “I suppose if you’ve been brought up to respect that tradition, it could work. But if everything is free, when do you barter?”

  “When we have something rare someone else wants, such as decorative items—”

  “Or my spirits,” Cal interrupted.

  “Right.” Nick chuckled. “Exactly. And we barter when we’re in other kingdoms. Since we aren’t giving back to those societies on a regular basis, we either exchange goods or we perform services to make things even.”

  “Kingdoms?” Meaghan asked. “You mentioned a King before, but I thought he was a figurehead. He’s not?”

  Nick shook his head. “A single family line has ruled this kingdom for well over a thousand years.”

  “No kidding,” she muttered. She lifted her mug, taking another sip. “That seems archaic to me.”

  “Does it?” Cal asked. He braced his hands on the table and leaned toward her. “I wouldn’t be so quick to judge if I were you. What we have certainly works better than what I’ve heard of your world. You have money which makes people starve, gadgets which keep people distracted and in a hurry, and no stars to look at during the night. Do you want us to turn into that?”

  His question hung heavy in the air and Meaghan realized too late how insulting her words had sounded. She set her mug down.

  “That’s not how I meant it. Where I grew up, we overthrew a monarchy because it didn’t keep the people’s interests in mind. A majority vote now determines who runs the country. Despite how it appears to you, that type of government does work best for us.”

  “It works best for them,” Nick corrected. He took her hand in his. “You aren’t part of that world anymore, Meg. Here, the monarchy works best. Or at least it did, and it will again.”

  “Did?”

  “The royal family was overthrown, but when they were in charge, they were excellent rulers. They took care of the people and they were well-loved.”

  “By everyone except Garon, a pig of a man who murdered the King and Queen,” Cal interjected. “He has no head to rule except by his own whim and the kingdom has suffered since.”


  “Garon was the royal advisor,” Nick explained, his voice matching the steel in Cal’s tone. “And he was a Guardian. He may have declared himself King, but we aren’t powerless to stop him. We didn’t need a democracy to wage war and we don’t need one to overthrow him.”

  “I understand.” Meaghan shifted in her chair to direct her next question at Cal. “You were the King’s Guardian at the time, weren’t you?” He nodded and she covered his hand with hers. “That must have been difficult for you.”

  “You can tell,” he responded. He drew his eyes up and she thought she saw mist coating them. “If you choose.”

  She dropped her hold on Nick’s power. Anger and pain washed over her with such strength she held her breath. When she had felt enough, she forced an exhale, and welcomed Nick’s power again.

  “Your pain is deep,” she said, “and your anger’s equally strong. Were you close to Garon?”

  “Yes.” Cal stood and went to the stove. Picking up a poker, he opened the door to the firebox and shifted the logs. “He was a close friend, or so I thought. In the end, he cost me many of my real friends, and my first wife, Alisen.” He put the poker away. “She was a member of the castle guard. The worst part is none of us saw it coming.”

  “I’m sorry,” Meaghan whispered. “I truly am.”

  “A monarchy can be a good thing,” Cal told her, turning back around. “When the right people are in charge. You’ll learn in time. For now,” he nodded toward her cup, “drink. You’ll learn nothing if you aren’t healed.”

  §

  SHE SCREAMED. She did not mean to and she feared someone outside would be alarmed by the noise, especially so late at night, but she could not help it. She kept it stifled as long as she could and then it forced its way out of her, a cyclone of power and velocity. It had been hours since they had started the healing process, hours in which Neiszhe’s power had burned through her ankle, knitting tendons and muscles back together. Meaghan understood the necessity of it, but she could not control her own human reaction. Neiszhe’s power seared her to the core. Each time the Healer forced more energy into Meaghan’s wound, pain flashed again, fire upon fire, until she had no other choice. She screamed.