Aerenden The Child Returns Read online

“I didn’t say you can’t sense them.” Nick set his apple down and took her hand in his. “I said you can’t sense their emotions. At least, not in the same way you do everyone else’s. With regular emotions, you can understand and interpret them because you experience them. With the Mardróch, you have no way of understanding the depth of their evil, and the emotions stemming from it. Your power receives them, but it has to translate them into something you can recognize.”

  “The odor comes from my power?”

  “As you said, you think of their odor as vile and rotten, which is what they are. The smell is your power’s defense mechanism. Without it, you wouldn’t be able to function when the Mardróch were around. The same defense mechanism should block their freezing power by filtering out the fear they project.”

  “So they don’t smell?” she asked. He shook his head and she took a bite from her apple, chewing with slow purpose and swallowing before she responded. “Your theory makes sense, but if you don’t mind, I’d rather not test it.”

  He laughed. “I’d rather you didn’t as well. The stream has started again.” He pointed toward the middle of the ledge. Water flowed around another, smaller boulder into a break in the rocks they had missed before.

  “A hidden path,” Meaghan said. “It looks like we can avoid climbing the rest of this hill.”

  “And the creeper vines,” Nick remarked, grinning when she glared at him. “Shall we get going?”

  §

  THEY TOOK the path, a narrow shortcut through a section of the mountain, and then followed it as it descended into a valley. From the crest, Meaghan could see a column of smoke rising through the rain. The stream twisted, leading them around several small groves before deviating into a lake on the far side of the valley. Meaghan started looking for a way to cross it, and then the rain stopped. The stream shrunk to the size of a creek, disappearing a few minutes later, and she realized they had reached their destination.

  They searched the area for a clue to the Guide’s location, but after a fruitless half hour, Meaghan gave up and sat down on a rock. She stared at the dirt slope leading up the side of the next mountain and fought to remain positive, but as the throbbing in her leg grew stronger, her resolve waned. “There’s nothing here,” she whispered. “It’s a dead end.”

  “It’s not,” Nick promised. He crouched in front of her, removing her sneaker to ease the pressure on her ankle. “The smoke came from over here. I’m sure the Guide has chosen a well-hidden home. There aren’t many people with his power, and the Mardróch have set out to eliminate all of them. It’s only a matter of finding the next clue to his hideout.”

  “All right,” she agreed. She pointed to her left where several dozen dense trees created a small forest. “Let’s check there next.”

  He nodded, and she attempted to stand, crumpling as soon as she applied pressure to her foot. Nick caught her, and then eased her back onto the rock.

  “Rest first,” he told her. He sat down in front of her, taking her foot into his lap to release the bandage. She turned her head to hide the tears streaking down her face and he frowned. “I don’t like the look of this swelling. I’ll keep hunting for the Guide. Hopefully he’ll have medicine or at the least, we can use his fire to make you some jicab tea. Stay here and yell if you need me. I won’t be far away.”

  He handed her the backpack before disappearing into the forest. She wiped the tears from her face with her hand and gave into the weariness weighing down her eyelids, allowing them to drift closed. A tree branch snapped behind her and she jumped up, whipping around to face whatever had made the noise. Pain screamed through her leg with the effort.

  A man stood less than twenty feet away, his emotions warring with hers for attention. She sensed a combination of curiosity, happiness, and relief in him, and when he smiled, she sat back down on the rock. His shoulders were broad, his arms and legs looked like tree trunks, and his long hair and full beard constructed of bristles streaked with black and gray. But his face matched his emotions, belying his rough appearance. Etched with laugh lines, it held only kindness, as did his pale blue eyes. The familiar color and shape of them filled her with sorrow, and she knew the emotion belonged to him as well as to her.

  He covered the distance between them, knelt in front of her, and offered his arms. She accepted the embrace, returning it in kind. It felt fatherly, appropriate from a man whose eyes mirrored her dad’s. He patted her back, a gesture also fatherly and familiar, and let her go. Tears shimmered in his eyes as he took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, lifting her face to peer into it.

  “I haven’t seen you since you were a small child. You’ve grown into a beautiful woman, quite regal.”

  A cough came from nearby. The man turned on his heels to view Nick. They exchanged a look Meaghan could not place, and then the man nodded, and stood. He strode over to Nick and engulfed him in a hug.

  “You’re a foot taller than when I last stood in your presence, lad,” he said. “But I guess a decade or so will do that to a man.”

  “I didn’t realize it was you leading us or I might have reconsidered following,” Nick responded, though his broad grin announced his own joy at the reunion. “I’m glad to see you’ve been able to avoid the Mardróch.”

  “Don’t insult me. I used to guard the King. I didn’t get my position for lack of skill. I earned it.”

  “That’s funny. I heard you won your position from the King’s old Guardian in a lucky hand of cards.”

  The man scrubbed his hand through his beard, and then chuckled. “Well, I suppose that might be true, but the King’s old Guardian was a bore. The King much preferred me.”

  “He wasn’t the only one,” Nick remarked, then nodded toward Meaghan. “I see you’ve met my charge.”

  “Not officially.” The man faced her again and extended a hand. “I’m Caldon. People call me Cal.”

  “Meaghan,” she responded and shook his hand. She tried to stand, but lost her balance when the pain shot through her, dropping her back onto the rock.

  “She’s injured,” Nick said.

  “Time to get her inside, then,” Cal responded, scooping her into his arms. Trees streaked by as he moved, then turned into a low border of overgrown bushes. He charged toward the dirt slope without slowing down and Meaghan thought for certain he would run into it, but as he grew closer, the slope shook, sliding out of the way to allow them into a narrow cave.

  Faint light glowed in the distance and he followed it, exiting the smaller cave into a larger one. A fire blazed in the center of the floor, its black smoke drifting through a hole in the ceiling. Cal glanced at the smoke and frowned. “They’ve found us now,” he said, and it took Meaghan a minute to realize he had spoken to the fire. “The Mardróch aren’t far. Don’t give us away.” The smoke turned almost transparent and he nodded. “Better.”

  He set Meaghan down on a bed made of moss and soft leaves before turning back to the fire to pull a pot from the embers at the bottom. Tipping it, he poured dark liquid into a cup and held it out to her. “I trust you’re familiar with this?” he asked. She took the jicab tea from him and nodded, grateful for once to drink it.

  It took half the cup before her head cleared of pain. By the time she emptied it, the throbbing had eased enough for her eyes to drift closed again. Nick and Cal’s voices became lullabies to her dreams, wordless melodies playing in the background. Only a single sentence broke through, brought to her attention by a strong disbelief that alerted her power, “You haven’t told her yet?”

  Although the question wrested her from the depths of unconsciousness, it failed to keep her awake long enough for her to comprehend its meaning.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  SEVERAL RABBITS roasted on a spit over the fire. Wild potatoes and carrots baked in the coals. Meaghan still slept, so Nick agreed to leave her when Cal grabbed a brown jug and two mugs from a makeshift shelf on the far side of the cave and held them up in silent offering.

  Nick t
railed him to the entrance. The ground moved again, revealing the deep blue evening sky, and Cal strode through the opening he had created. Nick followed. No trace of yesterday’s storm remained, not even the faint wisp of a cloud to hide the stars appearing overhead. Though it would soon cool, the air remained balmy from the sun’s late afternoon caress and it warmed Nick’s skin, though it failed to ease the chill that had formed between he and Cal after Nick had halted their previous conversation.

  Cal walked to a slab of rock and sat down. “It’s nice to have dry weather again,” he said, setting the mugs and jug down at his feet. He gestured toward a spot next to him. “Are you joining me?”

  Nick remained standing. “I thought you brought the rain.”

  “You know I can’t create it,” Cal responded.

  “But you kept it going.”

  “It would’ve dissipated after a few hours if I hadn’t. I thought your safety was more important than following the Guide’s primary rule.”

  “You mean ‘don’t change the environment on a large scale’?” Nick asked.

  Cal chuckled. “That’s the one. It’s nice to know your studies stuck with you. I don’t think my meddling affected anything though. The weather’s already returned to normal.”

  But the man who had spent two days controlling it had not. Cal looked pale. His eyes appeared dull, the corners of them drawn with deep lines. Nick frowned. “The rule is meant for more than environmental protection.”

  “I know,” Cal said and picked up the jug at his feet. He uncorked it and poured two fingers worth of liquid into each mug. “I’ll be fine soon enough. I can’t say you would’ve been if I hadn’t intervened.”

  “I suppose not.” Nick sat down next to Cal, accepting a mug. He passed it under his nose. “Is this what I think it is?”

  “The famous spirit,” Cal confirmed. “I promised you a drink when you were old enough, didn’t I? It’s a bit delayed, but nevertheless.” Raising his mug, he tapped it to Nick’s and then took a large gulp from it. When he lowered it again, his cheeks had taken on a rosy glow. “It’s a shame I had to abandon my still a few months back. This is the last jug I have.”

  Nick examined the spirit. It was colorless, reflecting only brown from his clay mug, and other than the fumes bearing the weight of high alcohol, it was odorless. He raised it to his lips and took his first, careful sip. It warmed his throat and settled into his stomach, calming his nerves within seconds.

  He had always heard Cal made the best spirit. The Guide guarded his supply well, offering it as a gesture of friendship only to those he deemed worthy. As a child, Nick had hoped to earn the honor someday, but after the Mardróch grew more aggressive and his mother deemed it unsafe for him to visit Cal, Nick let go of his hope.

  He took another sip, relishing in the complexity of the spirit, and felt his heart warm from the memories it brought back to him. He could recall James’ laughter as Vivian had tried the spirit for the first time, curling her nose up in disgust at the taste. He remembered his mother’s enjoyment of the same beverage, and his father’s. He could see the fireplace in his house as it blazed in the late winter hours while Cal and a woman who had all but escaped Nick’s memory passed the jug to family members who had yet to know the pain of war and death. He could recall their laughter and joy as he watched from the stairs, too young to comprehend the scene below him, but comforted by it nonetheless.

  They had thought he was asleep, as a five-year-old boy should be, but he had stayed up to watch them, and that night had made a lasting impression.

  He wondered if it was because it was the last night he had seen them all together. The woman whose face had faded in his memory would not live much longer, and James and Vivian would soon be gone, spirited to another world by a magic Nick had yet to understand.

  A world James often lamented had nothing close to Cal’s masterpiece. Nick took another sip from his mug and marveled at Cal’s talent with a still. Although the spirits Nick had enjoyed on Earth were more polished than this, the unusual mix of spice, sweet flowers, and smoke smoothed the rough edges.

  Cal finished his own drink, and then refilled his mug before adding more to Nick’s. He set the jug down. “What do they call this on Earth?” he asked.

  Nick rolled the liquid over his tongue, contemplating. “I think the closest they have is called whiskey, but it’s a brown color and they don’t have anything of this caliber.” He clutched the mug between his hands and stared at the sky, inhaling the fresh air with an appreciation he had not understood a year before. “It feels good to be home. Earth was too much for me.”

  Cal raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t care for it? Vivian told me she loved it.”

  “I suppose if I’d stayed a few more years, I might have acclimated to it like she and James did, but I never had the chance. Too much of the world is different than ours.”

  “Like what?”

  “It’s easier to tell you what isn’t different,” Nick responded. “Their lives are filled with gadgets and electronics, with noise and lights, and it’s hard to keep up with them. I couldn’t figure out how they were able to deal with all of it at once and stay sane.”

  “I’m not sure I understand.”

  “I didn’t either at first. Too much is foreign. Instead of commcrystals, they use things they call telephones to talk to each other and instead of walking or using horses, they ride in planes and cars. Cars are sort of like wagons and planes fly through the sky like birds. Everyone has a car, so I had to learn how to drive one. It wasn’t easy.” He sighed. His head started to ache, so he lifted his mug and took another sip from it. “On top of that,” he continued, putting the mug down on the ground, “everyone had a television and a computer. Televisions transmit plays, and computers allow people to write without paper and perform research without books. It’s complicated.”

  “Sounds like it,” Cal agreed. “I can’t believe Viv liked it there.”

  “She found it convenient,” Nick said. He clasped his hands together between his knees. “It was overwhelming at first, but once I understood it, I could see why it appealed to her. Telephones, despite their constant beeping and ringing, allow people to call and have food delivered to their doors. They only have to hunt if they want to. In a similar way, people use computers to order items like clothing, and cars and planes can travel large distances in a short amount of time. If I had one of those here, I’d be home by now.”

  Cal shrugged. “I suppose so. But I doubt you’d stay hidden long, and I highly doubt they’re faster than teleporting, so we win on convenience there.”

  “When we can use that power,” Nick pointed out. “Are the Mardróch still monitoring it?”

  “For the most part, but I can show you a place tomorrow where it’s safe to teleport. That should cut some time off your journey.”

  “Good.” Nick smiled when a streak of white shot across the sky. Another star followed it, and then a third. “I think I missed this the most. The stars were hard to see on Earth, except when we visited the mountains. The lights from the cities block them.”

  Cal drained his mug again and set it aside. “Earth wasn’t your home,” he said. “You belong here.”

  Nick nodded, and then closed his eyes to block out a sudden wash of pain. “Aunt Viv and Uncle James belonged here too,” he whispered. “They should have come back with me.”

  “I know.” Cal laid a hand on Nick’s shoulder and Nick opened his eyes to look at him. “The river was in the cave with you and Meaghan this morning,” Cal continued. “I heard your conversation.”

  “All of it?”

  “Yes. Meaghan’s right, Nick. Vivian had a vision about this, but it wasn’t recently. She had it her first night on Earth fifteen years ago.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “She’s known all along when she and James would die. The last time I saw her was about four years ago. It took her a week to find me. The Mardróch were on my trail, so I lived deep in the mountai
ns, but she went through the trouble because she wanted to tell me what she had seen. She needed me to know what she and James had decided. They had the option to return earlier, to bring Meaghan home after her fifteenth birthday, but they chose not to.”

  Nick stared at Cal. “Why? If they knew, why didn’t they come home? They could have prevented this.”

  “Because Vivian was a gifted seer. Some say she was the best this world has seen in hundreds of years. I agree. She understood that saving her own life meant jeopardizing our future. She knew she and James had to die for our cause to succeed.”

  Nick rose to his feet. Unable to stay still, he paced as he mulled over Cal’s words, then turned to frown down at the older man. “They didn’t have to be martyrs,” he said. “They should have told me. We could have worked something out, figured out another way. Instead, they let me believe I was there to integrate myself into Meaghan’s world. I wasted so much of my time—”

  “Getting to know her,” Cal interrupted. He stood and placed his hands on Nick’s shoulders. “Viv was never wrong. If she said that’s how it had to be, then that’s how it had to be. If she’d told you what she had wanted to do, you would have tried to stop her, and you wouldn’t have done what you needed to do to keep Meaghan safe. You had to get to know Meaghan for her to trust you.”

  Nick shoved his hands into his pockets. He looked away and Cal tightened his grip. “Nick, listen to me. Viv kept this secret to protect you.”

  “How?” Nick countered. Pain shadowed his voice and tears filled his eyes, despite his best efforts to control them. “Because she kept her secret, I wasn’t prepared to take over. I’m not ready for this, Cal. Meaghan’s too important for this world to lose, and I don’t know how to protect her.”

  “She’s too important for you to lose,” Cal corrected. “And you're scared. I understand, but don’t let fear control you. You’re ready. You may not have the experience you think you need, but you’re meant to be her Guardian.”

  Nick’s eyes came back to Cal’s. “You don’t know that.”