Faelost Page 13

  “It took two days for Mom and Uncle Tristan to get the bat out of the house. The thing was enormous for a bat, and its wingspan was too wide for it to glide through a window or door. Every time they got close to it, it would scurry to a different beam or hide in the corner of my loft. Uncle Tristan ended up bringing over his friend's fishing net and they snagged the bat in it. Really snagged— they had to cut the animal out of the net to release it once they got it outside. We ended up having to buy Tristan's friend a new net in addition to cleaning up the mess in the house. Guano isn't the easiest thing to scrub out of rugs and upholstery, is it, Shan?”

  “No, it isn't,” Shan said. He put his arm around Marita and kissed her temple. “Mom said we weren't allowed to bring home stray animals after that. We promised we wouldn't, but so much for that. She brought home strays of her own—Ragan, then Daelis and Yana. I brought home dragon eggs. I guess I didn't learn my lesson with the fruit bat after all, did I?”

  Ragan's cat-like eyes watched us from the shadow of the tarp. I wasn't sure how long he'd been awake. Maybe he'd only just now opened his eyes because he heard his name. He propped himself on his elbow and said, “You Sylleths act all fierce, but you've got kind hearts. Not sure how your little minds saw a bat and thought puppy, but your intentions were good.”

  “Did you know the bat story?” Marita asked.

  “Yeah. Tristan told me that story a couple times, back when he was trying to scare me off.”

  “How long did he try that for?” I asked.

  Ragan closed his eyes and winced. “Oh, about five years. Rest of the family stopped trying to get rid of me once Rin was pregnant with Alon, but Tristan kept going, right up until Alon died. After that, he begged me to stay.” He shook his head and opened his eyes. “Sorry, didn't mean to wreck your funny story.”

  “You didn't.” I shivered as the cold damp stabbed deep into my joints. “We going to be heading out soon?”

  Ragan tilted his head and watched the rain. “I'm not too keen on riding in a downpour. We'll wait a bit and see if it lets up.”

  “The half-Cat doesn't want to get wet,” Shan said, baring his teeth.

  “Neither do you, half-elf.” Ragan's left ear twitched as he glared at Shan. His sneer broke into a smile and he laughed. “I just don't see much point in riding out into the slippery muck when we've got a shelter set up here. We've got dry fire kindling, the horses are sheltered, and there's water to collect and drink. We're okay where we are for today.”

  “So we're just going to wait?”

  “We're going to rest. By the way you two were walking last night, I'd say you need it. Rest of this lot, too.” Ragan nodded toward the sleeping forms of Rose, Nador, and Iefyr. “They don't normally sleep this hard on the road. We're all getting too old for this shit. I think some downtime's in order.”

  “And then toward the Basin?” I asked.

  “Hope so,” Ragan replied. He reached over and pulled Rose's straying blanket over her shoulders. She stirred, but didn't wake. “Also hope our bearings are sound. Don't think she remembers much of this realm. Her father brought her to North Juniper when she was ten. Was supposed to be temporary, just a couple years while he set up contacts and business ventures, but then she ended up pregnant with me at fifteen and he left her behind. I guess he assumed my father would take care of us. Didn't turn out so well, but we managed. Our stories aren't so different, yours and mine. That's why I still feel so damned guilty that I left you two when your mother and I had our falling out.”

  “We managed.” I yawned and let the sound of the rain fall heavy upon my eyelids. “If you guys don't mind, I'm going back to sleep.”

  “Sleep all you want. We'll be here a while.”

  Chapter 18

  It was still raining when I woke again. I slowly focused my eyes beyond the sleeping form of Serida, who was curled into a tiny, scaly ball next to my head. Tiny streams trickled down the incline of our shelter, but we were mostly dry. Behind me, the horses snorted and huffed from beneath their own tarps. I rolled onto my back before sitting upright. My lower back and hips were still stiff and sore and I wondered how long it would take for my body to adjust to so much time on horseback. How long had it been already? I couldn't remember, but it felt like ages.

  The shelter was empty except for Nador, who was busy whittling a stick to a sharp point. Her silver hair and brown eyes both reflected the fire light as gold. I left Serida where she was and dragged myself around the perimeter of the small campfire so I could sit by Nador and enjoy the warmth.

  “Where is everyone?” I asked.

  Without looking up from her stick, she said, “Gone. Left us behind. We're on our own.”

  “What?” I gasped. My heart rate accelerated from calm to frantic. They left us? How could they have left us?

  Nador snorted. “Well shit, boy, you weren't supposed to believe me. I was joking. You're not a stupid kid, but you're awfully naive.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Don't be. Stay sweet. I like that about you.” She set down her knife and tilted her head away so she could watch the rain. “Ragan and Iefyr went hunting. Your brother and the other two are having some magic lessons under the other tarp.” She cocked her head toward me and clicked her teeth. “You were asleep a couple hours. I'm guessing you needed it. Feel better?”

  “No. Still tired, still sore.” My heart rate returned to near-normal. Serida opened her blue eye and looked at me. She uncoiled her long tail from her midsection and scrambled around the fire to sit on my lap. I offered her a leftover scrap of meat, which she eagerly gulped down.

  “Curse of long travel,” Nador said. She spun the sharpened stick between her palms before tossing it onto the fire. She rubbed her nose as she folded away her pocketknife and dropped it into a pouch on her belt. “You start to get used to the pain of the road, and then it's time for a pause and you have to get used to it all over again.”

  “Have you spent a lot of time on the road?”

  “About ten years now.”

  “Any particular reason? Bad family, dead family, angry elves with masks and dragons cut spells into you or trashed your town?”

  Nador grunted and shook her head. “Nah. Wanderlust mostly. My parents are great, my family is fine. They all live over in Sparktown, right on the southeastern edge of the Jade Realm. They were all content to stay right where they were, but I had this gift for alchemy and a mad desire to see the world. I went to Jadeshire to see if I could get into the University or into an apprenticeship program through the Citadel, but those elves and humans thought themselves too good to let a halfling into their scholar ranks. Well, all of them but one, a young elf lord. Daelis Goldtree. He was the only one who saw my potential. He couldn't find anyone to teach me in Jadeshire proper, but he did convince an alchemist in North Juniper to take me on. Faeline man, also rejected by the haughty cocks of Jadeshire. He also happened to be Rose's husband. Corran Tammis. Good man, died in a lab accident about twelve years ago. I was basically done with my apprenticeship when that happened, and I had no idea what to do next, so Rose got me into the Duke's Covert Services. Daelon interviewed me himself, and that strange elf decided I'd make a decent operative, so he had me trained and I was out on the road within two years.”

  “Do you like it? All the traveling around, I mean.” I tried to pet Serida, but she slipped off my lap and attacked the marrow of a discarded rabbit bone.

  Nador shrugged her slight shoulders. “It's life, and I'm used to it. I get back to North Juniper when I can, but that's not really home, just a comfortable place to rest, somewhere I have friends and feel welcome. The road is my home and the sky is my shelter, but the roof leaks more often than necessary. I make it back to Sparktown on occasion to visit my family, but it's always awkward. They're still hoping I'll settle down with some nice and boring halfling man and add to the family. I don't see that in my near future. I'm forty-three, so I've still got another eighty or hundred years to decide if that's something
I want. Yeah, I'll be too old after that and I might end up slinking toward the big two hundred and fifty alone, but that's okay, too. Never wanted to be the typical young mother. Still don't know if I want to be a mother at all. Right now I'm thinking no, just not interested. My family looked at me in horror when I told them that. Halfling numbers are unbalanced as far as males and females go, so the girls are expected to marry as soon as they hit adulthood and birth a girl or two along with six or eight or ten boys. My family naturally expected that of me, but instead I'm here.”

  “That's not their decision to make. Be who and what you want to be,” I said.

  “Yeah, you get it. You're the odd one in your family too, I can see it.”

  “I think Shan has the honor of being the odd one.”

  Nador scoffed and clicked her tongue against her teeth. “Is that what you think? Nah, you're plenty odd, you just don't see it yet.”

  “Well then, let's embrace being odd and live as we wish.”

  A cold spray dotted my face as Iefyr ducked under the tarp. “Finally awake, you lazy asses?”

  “Getting there,” I said.

  Iefyr took off his oilskin coat and shook it out the open side of the shelter to relieve it of collected raindrops. He flung it over the exposed roots of a tree and dropped his fingerless gloves next to it before sitting down next to Nador. He held his palms toward the fire and smiled as warmth spread through his calloused hands. “We got some sort of antelope. Ragan's out gutting it now. Awful lot of waste, especially of a nice hide, but can't do much about it. Might be able to salvage the horns at least.”

  “The vultures will appreciate the rest,” Nador said. “I hope he's not dressing it close to here. You all stink enough that the carrion feeders might come straight for you instead of for the actual carcass.”

  “Well, maybe they'll go after the Fae first then. Or you. Damp, unwashed halfling is a mighty peculiar funk.”

  “Knock it off, orc.”

  “Nothing wrong with being an orc, so don't spit the word like it's an insult. Orcs are civilized and honorable, so if you're going to find a fault in my blood, go with the elven half.”

  Nador's nose scrunched and she stabbed at the embers with a charred stick. “Elves are civilized.”

  “They only think they are, and they've brainwashed their plebeians into agreeing,” Iefyr said with a deep growl in his tone. “They're barbarians and conquerors. Prejudiced people who think anything non-elf is below them, and they act like they own the world and its people. Elves are the ones who spread the rumors of orcs being savages to undermine orcan efforts at becoming part of the ruling class, and that was before they exiled orcs from the northern realms. It's well documented, going back well before the Tempest Age, and the hierarchy still stands. Elves, humans, dwarves, halflings, orcs, Fae, in that order. Castes within castes—highborn, lowborn, everyone else—and even the lowest gutter elf is gifted more value than the highest orc or Fae. Elves are determined to keep us in our place so their perch at the summit remains uncontested.”

  “You don't know what you're talking about.”

  “Yes, I do. I am an outsider and that gives me a different perspective. My parents taught me history from both sides.”

  “Iefyr, where do half-bloods fall in the hierarchy?” I asked. Iefyr and Nador both startled as if they'd forgotten I was sitting with them. “Sorry, didn't mean to intrude. I was just . . . just . . . ”

  “Thinking about your brother?” Iefyr suggested, his brow raised.

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, Shan's an anomaly, especially compared to people like Ragan and me. I've read history, a lot of history, and I've never heard of a half-elf elevated to his status before. Every duke and duchess serving under the High King is a pure-blood elf, or they alter genealogy documents and refuse to acknowledge any rumors if they aren't. Shan's clearly a half-blood, no denying that once you look at him, and he takes full ownership of his parentage. I suspect that's why someone tried to kill him. Many elves and highborn humans see the Goldtrees as traitors to their kind. Some of them were openly disgusted when Daelis married your mother and ensured that his only heirs would be half-bloods. They're afraid the concerns of the lower classes and races have become Daelis's concerns. They're afraid if he helps the people below them get what's needed and deserved, they'll soon find they're no longer alone at the top.”

  “Keep the people uneducated and underfed and they'll lavish praise on you for your generosity when you give them a scrap of bread and a pat on the head. Give them more than the minimum and you might find they're better at your job than you are, because their skills are revealed when they can focus on more than survival,” I said.

  “See, you get it,” Iefyr said with a nod. “Few humans even try.”

  “Sort of. I'm mostly remembering things I heard from Ragan when I was younger. There were whole districts in Jadeshire where he wasn't even allowed to go because he was part Fae. It frustrated both him and Mom because they couldn't go places together. She gave birth to Alon with just Aunt Nora, Grandma, and Ragan there to help because no midwife would take her on, and then when Alon got sick, it was hard to find a physician who would help him. I suspect he wouldn't have died had it not taken three days for Mom to find someone willing to help one sick little kid who happened to have a little Faeline blood.” I sighed and tried not to let the welling tears fall from my eyes. “That never would have been a problem if Shan or I had gotten sick. There is no good reason for the life of a half-elf or human to be worth more than the life of a quarter-Fae. People always treated the three of us so differently and ignored the fact that we were brothers. We were bound together by blood, yet so many people chose to assign us different worths. That shouldn't happen.”

  “You're right, it shouldn't,” Iefyr said.

  Murmuring voices and shuffling feet interrupted the cadence of the rain. A moment later, Shan, Marita, and Rose crowded us around the fire. Ragan arranged antelope parts on a cooking grate and dropped a handful of vegetables I didn't recognize into a pot of collected rain water.

  “The hell happened to you?” Iefyr asked as he stared at Shan.

  I turned to look at my brother. His skin was pallid, except for the angry, swollen bruise forming just below his left eye. “Did Rose get sick of your sarcastic shit and whomp you?”

  “No.” Shan lowered his head toward his knees. His wet hair dripped upon his already damp sleeves and he shivered.

  “Shan performed a spell, a very interesting spell, one I'd never seen before, and it had a minor consequence,” Rose said. Her usually golden-brown face was nearly as pale as Shan's.

  Marita held a flat stone on her palm. She blew across it, then held it to Shan's face. “Here, this is cold. It won't last long, but it'll help. I'll make up a poultice in a little while.”

  “What did you do now, Shan?” I asked. He didn't respond or even acknowledge that he'd heard me. “Oh, you're going to sulk? Fine.”

  Rose held her hands toward the fire. “The sun broke through the clouds for just a moment, and he summoned his own shadow. The shadow was clearly not pleased and it attacked him. It would have done more damage if the clouds hadn't returned. Shan, I recommend not trying that spell again because not even Lumin was able to help you.”

  “What did you do to make your own shadow hate you? That's weird,” I said.

  “He didn't necessarily do anything,” Rose replied. “Warlocks are constantly at battle with themselves, trying to sustain the balance between the dark and light within their own souls. I believe this was a manifestation of the dark half of his soul attacking the light.”

  “You sure it wasn't a manifestation of self-loathing?”

  “That's not nice, Tessen,” Marita said.

  Shan grunted and raised his head. “Doesn't have to be nice. He knows my truths, sometimes knows me better than I know me. He's probably right.”

  “Why would you hate yourself?”

  “Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't. It comes
and goes in waves. I've had a rough year.”

  I put my arm around his slender shoulders and pulled him close. “It will stop eventually. You'll be okay.”

  Shan reached for Lumin. The dragon crawled onto his knee and nipped at his fingertips. “Your optimism is annoying, but please don't stop telling me that. You have a knack for convincing my errant thoughts to shut up.”

  “Shut up, errant thoughts. Shan, you'll be all right. Everything will be all right.”

  I didn't believe it myself, but maybe I could convince him. I wanted my brother back, the brother I had before Ranalae and her Jarrah stole the real Shan away. Maybe the Shan I'd always known and loved was still hiding within the tormented Shan sitting next to me. Maybe he wasn't too damaged to repair. If I could transform my optimistic words into optimistic thoughts, then perhaps I could convince myself that we'd eventually find ourselves back home and safe and reunited with our family. That thought felt like nothing but a lie.

  Maybe it was time for me to accept that the Shan I thought I knew so well had never existed at all. No, I mustn't think like that. The only thing my old Shan had masked was his shadow-skill. The rest of him had been open, honest, happy, and sincere. Right?

  Chapter 19

  We rode north from the copse the following morning. The rain had ended overnight, but the damp still clung to everything and a thick layer of muck squished underfoot. My hips ached horribly, but we couldn't afford another day without riding so I pretended nothing was wrong.

  We followed the gradual rise of the steppe for several hours before coming to a wide, flat, treeless expanse. Shan rode close to me, but said little. He'd spent the night with Marita again, but she told me before we left that he hadn't spoken to her beyond a few words of good night and good morning. The Shan of a year ago was chatty, sometimes to the point of becoming an annoyance, but post-Jarrah Shan was often unnervingly quiet.