Alora Read online

  “Nordamen may want Wesley and Brian, but Wesley’s the only one going. I think Brian’s still afraid to leave Karen alone with Daegreth, though he swears that’s not true.”

  “What were you talking about with your father and Morvaen today?” Jireo asked Kaevin. “I waited all day to spar with you.”

  Alora also wondered what they’d been doing, though she was glad Kaevin had been occupied instead of sulking outside the healing house.

  Kaevin stopped eating, closing his eyes and blowing out a heavy sigh. He looked at Alora. “Your uncle has brought us a few... presents... through the portal. Now we must decide what is to be done with them.”

  “What kind of presents?” Beth asked.

  “First, he brought some knives. He thought the material might be superior to ours because they were stain-less-steel.” Kaevin emphasized each syllable. “But Morvaen found the blades no better than those made by our gifted forgers who work the iron. He believes we can copy the design of the folding blades. Charles called them switches.”

  “Switchblades? Uncle Charles brought switchblades to Laegenshire?”

  “Yes, but the knives were not the troublesome items. He also brought two guns.”

  “Guns?” Alora’s heart raced in her chest. “I thought we were doing everything possible to keep guns out of Vindrake’s hands. Why would he bring them here?”

  “His idea was to only use them as protection,” Kaevin explained. “He argued if Vindrake’s men attacked, he could use his special sight tube to kill the warriors from far away.”

  “Like a sniper rifle,” said Beth, who didn’t seem nearly as upset as Alora thought she should be.

  “And what happens if I need to transport Uncle Charles to safety, huh?” Alora asked with rising alarm. “His gun would be left behind to fall into whatever evil hands were close by. And then Vindrake would have that technology.”

  “We’re well aware of the risks involved,” said Kaevin. “Otherwise we wouldn’t have spent the entire day in conference, studying the weapons.”

  “What will the council say?” asked Alora.

  Kaevin’s gaze darted about the room. “We won’t share the news about the Montana weapons with the council or anyone else in Laegenshire.”

  “Why not?” asked Jireo.

  Kaevin lowered his voice. “Father believes Vindrake has gained access to confidential council discussions. Through what dark magick, we don’t know. But three times we’ve moved our warrior patrols along the border, only to have Water Clan attack the towns left unguarded.”

  “I thought your father ordered everyone who lives on the border to move closer. Didn’t they listen to him?”

  Jireo said, “Graely can only provide guidance. His decrees aren’t enforceable unless voted into law.” He clamped a hand on Kaevin’s shoulder. “Your father’s not responsible for those who refuse to listen.”

  “He feels responsible, nonetheless.”

  “Well, when he gets home, I’ll give him some of Beth’s cookies. If that doesn’t perk him up, nothing will,” Alora said. “Where is he now?”

  “He’s on his way to Rivershire, where the latest attack occurred, with Morvaen and a group of warriors. Nordamen left an alert seed-pod at every border community. He knows the instant a pod is destroyed, and this one was crushed a half-hand ago.”

  Kaevin swallowed hard, and Alora felt his grief, like a dense fog. His unfocused eyes glistened with unshed tears.

  “There were only eight families—simple farmers with children. They chose to ignore Father’s advice to move farther away from Water Clan because they did not wish to lose their homes and land.” His voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. “Now they’ve lost everything.”

  “Are they all... dead?” asked Beth, her lower lip trembling. “Vindrake killed them?”

  “We can’t know.” Bitterness flowed out with Kaevin’s words like spitting out a mouthful of cough medicine. “But it’s probably best if he did. To live with Vindrake’s evil inside your mind controlling your actions is a fate worse than death.”

  “That’s what Daegreth says,” Beth agreed, blinking rapidly.

  Emotion swirled through the air, dissolving the oxygen in the room.

  I’m suffocating.

  Closing her eyes made it easier to shut the door on the feelings of her friends. It was hard enough to deal with her own sorrow and the terror evoked each time Vindrake was mentioned. Her breaths came faster and faster. Vertigo struck.

  “Alora.” Kaevin’s warm hand clasped hers, soothing her frazzled nerves almost as if he were using empathy on her.

  The panic faded. Her breathing returned to normal. Her head cleared.

  “Thank you,” she breathed.

  His grip tightened on her hand. “Father left me Stone Clan leader while he is gone.”

  Alora’s heart swelled with pride for her soulmate, but Kaevin spilled out buckets of angst.

  “You’re more than ready, brother.” Jireo reached around Alora to clap him on the back. “With me at your side to offer wise counsel, I don’t believe you can fail.”

  Kaevin grinned. “You assume I’ll seek your advice.”

  “Be warned! Should you spurn my generous offer, I will see that you are defenestrated.”

  “Spare me, Jireo!” Alora shoved him with her elbow. “Defenestrated? When did you have time to learn a new word from Wesley?”

  “You wound me, Alora. You believe that my words would be plain but for Wesley’s magick talker?”

  A thump. A rattle. The door swung open.

  “I suppose you’ve eaten all the food, Jireo.” Arista stomped across the room to peruse the table, as grumpy as Uncle Charles when he had to make his quarterly tax payment to the IRS.

  “Simply because you can’t arrive any place on time doesn’t mean the rest of us should starve ourselves,” Jireo replied. “And you could’ve eaten at home.”

  “I’ve hardly spent any time with my friends, since being assigned to Markaeus to practice portal building. Day after day of fruitless effort.” As Arista bent to reach over Kaevin’s shoulder and snatch a lone slice of bread, her long braid fell down, slapping Alora in the face.

  With relief, Alora noted none of the resulting nausea that she’d experienced the last few times Arista had been in close proximity.

  I’m not sure what that means, but I’m glad she doesn’t reek of evil anymore.

  Arista sat down near Beth, nibbling on her bread with an absent expression. She picked up her mug as if to take a drink, but froze, staring across the room.

  Alora followed her line of sight, but saw nothing of interest on the wall Arista studied so intently.

  “Alora, you should take me back soon.” Beth stood, stretching her arms over her head. “Oh Arista, I forgot to ask about your horse’s leg. Is she better today?”

  With her mug poised in mid-air, Arista gave no sign she’d heard the question.

  “Hey, Arista? Are you in there?” Beth tapped her arm.

  Arista jumped. “I apologize, Beth. I lost something and spent most of the day looking for it. And I can only think of one person who could have stolen it.” Arista kept her eyes on her lap, tearing the bread into smaller and smaller pieces.

  “Who?” asked Beth.

  “Markaeus.”

  “If Markaeus stole something, Alora can fetch it in a few minutes when she takes me home.” Beth picked up her canvas bag, collecting her belongings.

  “What exactly did Markaeus steal?” Standing up, Alora prepared to take Beth back to Montana, wondering if she should simply return the stolen item or tell Uncle Charles what Markaeus had done.

  Arista’s head shrank between her shoulders, a tsunami of guilt barreling out to knock Alora to her knees.

  Crying out, Kaevin sprang from his chair, grasping her shoulders. “What’s wrong, Alora?”

  “I was careless.” Alora rose on wobbly legs. “I left my empathy gift open, and Arista...”

  Wait a minute... Why is Arista s
o remorseful?

  With one arm around Kaevin for support, Alora edged in front of Arista’s chair. This time she reinforced her emotional block to be certain she wouldn’t experience the feelings of anyone in the room. “What’s going on, Arista? What did Markaeus steal from you and why is it making you feel guilty?”

  With her head tucked down, Arista mumbled an answer.

  “It’s a scroll—the one I took from Vindrake’s chest.”

  ~12~

  Charles looked forward to dinner. “Doc” A. J. Sanders had been one of his best friends for most of his life and remained essential in hiding Alora’s true identity by forging a birth certificate. If not for Doc’s help, Charles and Lena wouldn’t have had a plausible excuse for the existence of the infant who’d been placed in their care by her dying mother. At the time, neither Doc, nor Charles and his wife, had any notion of the world from which Alora originated.

  Doc had married Beth’s mother, Janice, about thirty days ago in a quiet family ceremony, though she refused to wear the big, fancy diamond ring he bought her, preferring instead a plain gold band. When the two were together, Charles could tell Doc was crazy about her and Janice glowed in his admiration.

  Fortunately, Beth had adapted well, glad to see her mother happy for once in her life. And A. J. wisely chose not to interfere with Janice’s parenting. Not much.

  Thinking about the upcoming discussion of how to handle Sergeant Justice made Charles’ stomach churn like he’d eaten three bowls of extra spicy chili. The annoying reporter had been in the back of Charles’ mind the entire afternoon while he worked, but he hadn’t come up with any good ideas.

  Dinner had been moved to the Franks’ house to celebrate Brian’s birthday, a happy occurrence for Markaeus, who enjoyed spending time with Wesley and Daegreth. Charles assumed Doc would tell Brian and Karen about the television reporter, and they probably deserved to know. If Justice poked his nose around Alora’s friends, he might discover Daegreth, who had a hard time blending in despite his resemblance to the Franks family.

  Charles missed Alora more than he’d anticipated, not realizing how much he enjoyed her company and—though it was hard to admit—Kaevin’s and Jireo’s as well. The past few months, with all the young people at the ranch, he became accustomed to lively conversation, ample help with the ranch chores, and evenings filled with popcorn, laughter, and board games. Now, with Markaeus as his only companion, the big house felt empty. He hoped to see Alora tonight when she transported Beth back from her nightly visit. She usually made a point to stop by and spend at least fifteen minutes with him at the ranch, but she might not feel up to dealing with the intense questions Karen Franks habitually doled out.

  Charles hesitated before knocking on the front door. “Markaeus, why did you bring a backpack with you to dinner? Please tell me you haven’t got any critters in there.” Markaeus had a propensity for collecting unusual pets, most of whom would be considered ‘pests’ by any other Montana resident. He didn’t have the heart to discourage the boy, since he seemed to find comfort in “talking” to the animals.

  “No, Uncle Charles. It’s something I need Alora to take to Arista. Won’t we see Alora tonight when she brings Beth back to Montana? It’s really important for Arista to have it.”

  “I don’t know. We might not see her, since we won’t be at home. But I’m sure she’ll come visit us tomorrow night or the next.”

  At Markaeus’ stricken look, Charles realized the boy must have a crush on Arista. It wasn’t surprising. She was a beautiful girl, with long blond curls like Goldilocks. What little boy wouldn’t have a crush on her after spending several weeks together? Though they hadn’t been successful in making new portals, Markaeus had probably thrived on her attention.

  “Don’t worry.” Charles ruffled the boy’s hair as he urged him inside. “We’ll probably see Arista in person, soon enough.”

  Markaeus seemed distracted throughout the birthday dinner but jumped on the opportunity to play video games with Wesley and Daegreth. Amazingly, both Markaeus and Daegreth were skilled gamers, despite only being exposed to technology for a short time.

  As the adults carried the dishes to the kitchen, Doc brought up the subject of Sergeant Justice, as Charles expected.

  Karen seemed shaken by the news, fumbling to fit a plastic lid on a container of leftovers until Brian had to do it for her. Her face was white as she lamented, “The last thing we need is someone doing a thorough investigation of Alora and all her friends. Daegreth is kind of hard to hide.”

  “That’s true,” Charles said. “I was thinking I might get away by moving to Laegenshire with Markaeus for the whole summer, but Daegreth is stuck in this realm to avoid Vindrake’s power. Still, if we were all gone, Justice might lose interest.”

  “You’d need someone to tend the horses, right?” Brian asked. “I’m sure the boys would help. We’ll do whatever it takes to get rid of Justice.”

  “You haven’t met this guy.” Doc laid a stack of plates in the sink. “He’s really persistent. They call him The Bulldog, and the name fits. I think disappearing would make him more suspicious than ever. That nurse convinced him we were hiding something about Alora because her memory doesn’t match up with the records. He hasn’t figured out what happened, of course, but he knows something isn’t right.”

  “So what do we do?” asked Charles.

  “My thought,” Doc continued, leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms, “is to create something for him to discover—something that seems really juicy, but isn’t.”

  “Okay, I’ll bite,” said Brian, as he rinsed off a handful of silverware, stuffing it into the dishwasher. “What did you create?”

  “Well, that’s the problem. I haven’t thought of it yet.”

  “I have an idea,” Janice said. “He’s snooping around about Alora, right? But he can’t possibly have any idea about the truth—that she can transport.”

  “He wouldn’t believe it even if we told him,” Doc agreed. “I know I didn’t.”

  Janice nodded. “What if we have him flying all over the world to find her? He’ll eventually get tired of it or run out of money.”

  Doc rubbed his head on the round spot where his brown hair was thinning. “How would we manage that?”

  “I can’t see how it would work,” Charles argued. “Alora’s not even here right now. She’s in Laegenshire for the summer.”

  “Yes, but she can pop up anywhere, right?” Grinning with excitement and gesturing with both hands, Janice’s expression reminded Charles of Beth, who always managed to talk him into things after Alora had given up. “We could post a picture on social media with something in the background that confirms she’s really there. And by the time Justice gets there, she’ll be gone. She only has to be in this world for a few minutes at a time.”

  “Ah! Like a wild goose chase,” said Karen. “I like that. Anything to get him away from here. Away from us.”

  “But she can’t transport anywhere she wants,” Charles objected. “She can only go someplace she remembers—someplace she’s been before. And Lena and I never took her that many places.”

  “Alora could transport to where Steven is living, in Australia, couldn’t she?” Brian offered. “And he’s presenting at a conference in New York in a few weeks, and another in England later this summer.”

  Growing more animated as he got into the idea, Brian waved a dish towel in the air. “And just to make it more interesting, she could transport to all the airports in between. And once she’s been there, she could always go back again.”

  “I’ll be in Washington in July,” said Doc. “Salmon fishing.”

  Charles drummed his fingers on the kitchen counter. “It might work. I’ll have to ask Alora and Kaevin... and Graely, of course.”

  Raised voices sounded from another part of the house, some of them female.

  Running footsteps.

  Wesley burst into the kitchen.

  “Mom! Alora just t
hrew up on the rug!”

  **************

  As Bardamen had observed, Meravelle was a creature of habit. Each evening at dusk, she trekked down to the river for water, and tonight he happened to be strolling down the hill as she returned.

  “Do you desire help with your load?” asked Bardamen, magnanimously reaching to retrieve the pole Mera balanced on her shoulders, a pail of water swinging on each end, heavy enough to bend the pole.

  “Stop,” she snapped. “You’ll make the water spill, and I haven’t the time to fetch another round.”

  Turning back up the hill, he fell in step beside her, admiring her muscular arms. “I must admit, I’m surprised to find one gifted in wisdom who also possesses non-gifted strength. I assumed scholars would be too busy with their studies to develop any physical prowess.”

  “Hmphh.” Her lip twitched.

  Is she smiling at my compliment?

  “Likewise,” she replied, “I assumed anyone lacking scholarly gifting could not demonstrate intelligence.”

  “And I’ve disproved your theory?”

  Her nostrils flared as she rolled both lips between her teeth. “Not at all. But Raelene did.”

  “Ha!” Bardamen laughed, wondering why he found her insults amusing rather than irritating. Perhaps because he’d met no other so talented at verbal sparring.

  He opened his mouth to return her jab, when something pricked his mind... a tiny niggling sensation. Light and remote, like the scratch of a quill, yet firm enough to know the danger was real.

  Knocking the carrier from her shoulders and spilling the water, he ignored her loud protest.

  “Leave the pails! Grab my belt, and don’t let go!” He mumbled a few words and lifted his hands, forming a ward to cover them in a protective dome, before clambering back up the path.

  She let go.

  Of course, she refuses to obey. Typical.

  Rotating, he found her standing on the path with her arms crossed, tapping one small sandaled foot.

  “Please, hurry!” he called. “It’s a shaman. We’re under attack. Glaenshire is under attack.”