Aerenden The Child Returns Read online

  Although she could no longer sense Nick’s feelings, it did not take a special talent to understand his anger. He held his body stiff as he navigated the forest at a brisk pace. At times, she had trouble keeping up, but she thought better of complaining. When he spoke, anger kept his words curt, adding another element of cold to the night. She followed in his footprints, both her steps and movements cautious, and wondered if the trek could be any more miserable.

  Despite the long nap she had taken earlier, tiredness plagued her. Her muscles had grown stiff, making it difficult to move. She stifled a yawn, glanced up at the sky again and froze, horrified when the stars moved. They swayed, ebbing closer, inching away, taunting her. She closed her eyes, felt the world spin, and then met darkness.

  §

  “MEG, WAKE up.”

  Nick’s voice came from far away, and Meaghan ignored it. The darkness enveloped her, a warm and welcoming friend, and she hated to leave the comfort of it for the frigid wilderness she would have to face if she opened her eyes.

  “Come on, Meg. I know you can hear me. I need you to wake up now.”

  He sounded closer this time. The air smelled of mildew, wet hay, and dust and though it still held the edge of chill, it no longer bit her skin. She stirred, turning so she felt something tickle her cheek. A blanket, she realized, and drew it up to her chin. A pair of arms tightened on the outside of it.

  “That’s it, Meg. Not much further. Open your eyes for me, okay?”

  Her eyelids felt like cement and it took all her effort to pull them open. When she did, a flickering light assaulted her. It seemed unnatural after the past few hours spent walking in the dark and she turned away from it. She felt the soft wool of Nick’s sweater brush her cheek, and looked up at his worried face. She lay nestled in his lap, her head cushioned against his chest as he held her.

  He smiled. “Welcome back. You scared me for a while there.”

  “I’m sorry,” she muttered. Turning her head, she tried to gauge her surroundings. A scan of the room revealed a packed dirt floor. Hay tufts littered the floor in spots. In others, the hay had been stacked into bales and piles. Exposed beams framed a high roof, though holes marred its protection, baring a near-black sky. In front of them, a small bonfire provided a barrier against the cold as it cast flickering light into the far corners of the barn.

  She sat up, felt her world pitch, and succumbed to Nick’s arms when he eased her back down.

  “Not so fast,” he said. Retrieving the plaid blanket she had tossed aside, he drew it over her. “Rest for a while. I have something which will help you.” He picked up a tin cup at his side, and then eased her up so she sat. Keeping an arm behind her back to steady her, he handed her the cup.

  Taking a sniff of the liquid in the cup, she wrinkled her nose when the smell of rotting dandelions assaulted her. “What is this?”

  “It’s a root,” he responded, “made into tea.”

  She sat up fully, propping her elbows on her knees so she could hold the cup between her hands. “What’s it called?”

  “Jicab.” Nick stood and walked to the fire. He picked up a stick and then tapped it against several logs, moving them so the flames blazed higher. “It’s used as medicine for everything from headaches to stomachaches, or in your case, exhaustion. You passed out. It should help you feel better.”

  Meaghan sniffed the drink again and had her doubts. Steeling her stomach, she took her first sip. Its flavor did not improve much over its smell. It moved from sour to bitter, visiting salty in between, and finished with a licorice undercurrent which made her never want to eat the candy again. She gagged in the effort to swallow the first mouthful.

  Nick grinned. “Terrible, isn’t it? I wish I could say it gets better, but it doesn’t. You’ll get used to it though.”

  “How much do I have to drink?”

  “All of it.”

  Her eyes fell to the muddy liquid. Her stomach rolled with the thought. “Are you serious?”

  Nick did not respond, but a quick glance at his stony face gave her his answer. She sighed, corralled her bravery, and took a large gulp. The tea overwhelmed her tongue and she almost spit it out. Pinching her nose before she lifted the drink to her lips again, she closed her eyes, and tossed back the cup, chugging its contents. It burned going down, but the pain lasted only a moment before the warmth began. Her toes heated first. Her fingers warmed next. The throbbing eased from her head, and then the heaviness sitting deep within her muscles disappeared. No medicine had worked this well for her before and those that had come close had left her feeling hazy and sleepy. This tea had the opposite effect. She felt energized.

  She stared at her hands, at the natural shade that returned to them, and smiled. “This stuff is amazing. Where did you get it?”

  Nick slid his hands into his pockets. He nodded toward the backpack resting a foot away from her on the floor. “From there, with the cup.”

  “My father packed it?” she asked.

  Nick nodded. “As well as a few other things. Matches, some energy bars, and a medical kit.”

  “How did he know we’d need it?”

  Nick shrugged. “Who knows? It doesn’t really matter, does it?”

  It did to her, and she had a feeling Nick knew the answer, but she did not want to start another argument. At least not until she had fully recovered. She looked down at the blanket and ran her fingers along the frayed edge of it. “Did he pack this as well?”

  “No,” Nick answered, and sat down beside her. “I found it in the back of the barn.”

  Meaghan placed the cup beside her and drew the blanket around her shoulders. “I don’t remember having jicab before,” she said.

  “That’s because you haven’t had it. Vivian and James kept their supply for emergencies. Since the medicines here are adequate, they never needed to use it.”

  “It’s not from here, like you claim they aren’t.” He nodded and she turned to study the fire. “You said you’d answer my questions. Will you tell me where it’s from?”

  “Soon,” he told her. “Once we get to our destination.”

  Her eyes found his, and they appeared dark to her, much as they had the night before when she had showed up at his door. The moon was not shadowing them now, and she wondered if it had not been last night, too. “You said you ‘blocked’ me earlier. You’re doing it now, aren’t you?”

  He nodded. “It’s necessary.”

  “Why?” she asked, and then pushed out a breath in frustration. “Never mind. I’d rather know what you’re doing first. I’d think you were crazy if I weren’t feeling the result of whatever you’re doing. You seem empty to me.”

  “Is that what it feels like?” He took her hand in his. “I’m sorry. That has to be frustrating for you.”

  “Not as frustrating as not knowing what’s happening. I don’t know what you’re doing. I don’t know where we’re going. I don’t even know who my parents were, if you’re telling me the truth and they were lying about their past.” She removed her hand from his. “You want me to trust you, to follow you, yet you won’t explain anything. Trust goes both ways.”

  Nick clasped his hands together. “Everything you want to know is related. It’s also complicated, and it’s going to take some time to explain.”

  “We have time,” she responded. “I have no intention of walking through any more snowdrifts in the dark, so as far as I’m concerned, you have several hours until daylight to explain.”

  “Fine. If you want to hear it now, I’ll tell you, but you have to promise you’ll listen to everything before reacting.”

  She nodded and waited for him to continue.

  “You’re an Empath. You sense people’s emotions.”

  She stared at him, certain she had misheard him, but when he said nothing further, she had no other choice but to acknowledge what he had said. “An Empath?” she managed. “Are you trying to tell me I can feel other people’s emotions?”

  “Exactly.”


  She shook her head, wondering if the tea had developed side effects after all. “I was wrong. You are crazy.”

  “I am not,” Nick protested. “I realize this is difficult to comprehend, but—”

  “Difficult doesn’t begin to cover it,” she interrupted. “Empathic powers and psychic abilities don’t exist. They’re not real.”

  “Then how do you always know what people are feeling, even when they’re trying to hide their emotions? Isn’t that why you chose to study psychology?”

  His question stopped her argument for a moment. She wanted to respond that she could read body language, as she had always thought, but she knew better now. “There are case studies,” she told him. “We reviewed them in one of my classes. Most of the people who claimed to have those abilities were exposed as fakes. There has to be another explanation.”

  “Most of them were,” Nick said, “but not all of them. What about the ones who weren’t proven to be fakes?”

  She shrugged. “They fooled the testers or the test results were inconclusive. It doesn’t mean the abilities exist. It means the explanation wasn’t available.”

  “Or the explanation was outside the realm of common understanding.” Nick grabbed Meaghan’s hand when she tried to pull away from him. “Keep an open mind, please. I’d think after today you wouldn’t find the abnormal so easy to dismiss.”

  “I wouldn’t if the explanation wasn’t impossible.” Or rather, if the possibility meant a future she could face. She shook her head, refusing to believe Nick, refusing to allow images of the creatures and what they had done to her parents to surface in her mind. She had to hold on to logic. She had to believe she could return to her life. Her normal life. “There are always valid explanations for things which appear abnormal.”

  “The explanations for today and for your ability may not be what you’d consider normal, but they are valid. Your ability stems from a power, and my ability to block you from reading me also stems from a power.”

  “Right,” Meaghan scoffed. “So you’re saying I’m magical and so are the other people who claim to be empathic or psychic.”

  “Not quite, but close. Your ability is a true power. It’s stronger and it works differently than the ones you learned about in the case studies.”

  “I see. So those people don’t have powers.”

  “Their ancestors did. They have the ability because it stems from a rare, genetic variation of your power.”

  She stood. “This is nuts.”

  “It’s not.”

  “It is. I don’t know what game you’re trying to play, but I’m not a child. I stopped believing in the supernatural a long time ago. Powers don’t exist except in comic books and magic belongs to rabbits in top hats.”

  “And you and me,” Nick said, standing to face her, “as well as Vivian and James.”

  Meaghan shook her head again and scanned the barn for a way out. She felt more certain now than ever that Nick had grown delusional. He may not seem dangerous, but his behavior could escalate. If he believed he could perform magic, there would be no limit to what he might attempt.

  The heavy, wood doors at the entrance to the barn would be impossible to open quickly enough to provide an escape, but the side door would work, if she could figure out a way to get around Nick. He blocked her path to it.

  She walked to the fire, feigning interest in the flames, and in the conversation. “What powers did Mom and Dad have?”

  “James could control electricity,” Nick answered.

  “That’s handy,” Meaghan commented. “So he was stealing it all this time instead of paying the electric company?”

  Nick narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re the one who wanted to have this conversation.”

  “I wanted the truth, not some tall tale. Next, you’ll tell me Mom’s baking skills stemmed from a power. Why are we out here, Nick? Is this some sort of joke you and my parents cooked up? If so, it’s not funny.”

  “It’s not a joke,” Nick said. He came to stand beside her and though his body was stiff, his voice remained soft. She could hear pain in it, but she still could not read the emotion on his face. “The powers are real, Meg. You can sense people’s emotions and I can sense people, too, but in a different way. I can feel the presence of their powers, and I can tell when they’re dangerous. I can also block people from sensing me, which is why my power works against yours.”

  “And Dad could control electricity,” she stated. “Or so you claim. I never saw him do anything out of the ordinary.”

  “Some powers don’t work here. His didn’t, and our sensing powers weren’t as strong.”

  “Our?”

  “James’, Vivian’s, and mine. We all had the same sensing powers, but we each had different personal powers.”

  “I see.” Meaghan glanced at him, and then past him to the door. Taking a step away from the fire, she positioned her feet to run. “Did Mom’s personal power work?”

  “For the most part. You would have considered her a psychic, but where we’re from, she’s a Seer. She could look into the future and make predictions.”

  “A Seer?” Meaghan’s eyes snapped to Nick’s.

  “Yes. She was gifted. One of the best Seers I’ve ever—”

  “She couldn’t see the future,” Meaghan insisted. Her hands balled into fists at her sides. “That’s impossible.”

  “As impossible as you sensing emotions,” Nick countered. “Damn it, Meg. I’m getting tired of this conversation. If you don’t believe me, fine, but—”

  “She couldn’t,” Meaghan repeated. Her voice wavered and she closed her eyes over tears. ”If she could, she would have seen. She would have stopped…” her voice failed her and so did her control. Visions of the attack filled her mind. She could see her mother stretched over the stairs, eyes vacant in death. She could see her father taking his last breath, could hear it as if it had just happened. If Nick told the truth, how could her mother have seen the horror in advance and allowed it to happen?

  Nick put his arms around her. “Vivian didn’t know she and James would die,” he whispered. “Seers can’t control their visions.”

  Meaghan turned her face into his shoulder. “Then what good is being able to see the future if she couldn’t prevent her own death? It isn’t right.”

  “No, it isn’t,” he agreed. “I’ve wondered the same thing since we left their house, and I’ve wondered what good my powers are if I couldn’t use them to save Vivian and James. I’m supposed to be able to sense Mardróch, but I couldn’t when it mattered most.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “I loved them, you know.”

  “I know,” she responded. “You became close to my parents over the past year.”

  “It’s more than that.” He drew his fingers down her arm, taking her hand in his before stepping back. “Vivian and James were my aunt and uncle.”

  “Wait.” Embarrassment warmed Meaghan’s cheeks as she remembered the kiss they had shared. She removed her hand from his. “We’re cousins?”

  “No.” Nick drew a deep breath. “Vivian and James weren’t your real parents. They protected you after your parents died. They brought you here with the intent of telling you the truth when you turned eighteen.”

  “Here?” she echoed, and the word tasted heavy in her mouth. He had used it several times tonight, but it had not occurred to her until now he had meant something other than a different country or maybe some tribal island few had mapped. “By here you mean?”

  “Earth. We’re from another world.”

  Meaghan’s mouth dropped open and though she wanted to argue, her voice failed her. What could she say? Even if she could accept the rest of what Nick had said, this fell so deeply into the realm of the impossible that she could not even begin to entertain it. Her parents had loved her too much to not be her own. And Earth was the only world which could sustain life. No other world could exist to allow Nick’s explanation to be true. Everyone knew that.

  So why di
d she feel sick?

  Nick walked away from her, clearing a direct path to the door, but she could move no easier than she could speak. He picked up the backpack from the floor, opened it, and then pulled out a velvet pouch. “James packed this, too. He and Vivian intended to give it to you when they told you the truth. Vivian felt it would help you understand.”

  “Understand what?” she choked out.

  He pressed the pouch into her hand. “Just open it, okay?”

  Her eyes dropped to the item. It felt heavy. So did her head. A haze descended over her, muting color and sound. Her mouth grew dry. Her tongue felt swollen. She swallowed air past it, but could not manage much else.

  “Meg,” Nick begged, covering her hand with his. “Please.”

  The soft material rubbed against her skin, the sensation of it breaking through her numbness and she did as he asked. She fumbled with the string, untying it after several attempts, and then tipped the pouch over. A large, silver amulet slid into her palm. From the center of its intricate flower border, a purple stone glistened by the firelight. She gasped. “It can’t be.”

  “It is,” he confirmed. “It’s the one from your dreams.”

  “It was my mom’s?” she asked and looked up at him. “Is that why I dreamed about it?”

  “Yes and no. It was your mom’s, but not Vivian’s. You weren’t having dreams, Meg. You were remembering our world. You were seeing your birth mother.”

  She stared at the amulet again. “I don’t understand. Some of those dreams were nightmares.”

  Nick brought a hand to Meaghan’s shoulder, drawing her close again. “You were young. We weren’t sure what you would remember, if anything. You were with your mother when she died.”

  “The woman with the black hair was my mother?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s not true,” Meaghan protested, though she could not find conviction in the words. Her life had been a lie. The people she thought were her parents had been strangers. But the love she had felt from the woman had been real. And it came to her through a nightmare.