A Time of Darkness (The Circle of Talia) (11 page)

When he reached Avruellen, she crouched and embraced him. “What’s all the noise about?”

I felt like howling. I’m restless. It’s nice to howl once in a while
. He twitched his ears a few times—a sign to Avruellen he was happy.
I can smell Bronny. They’re not that far away
. He led the way.

Flux’s
not far away
was farther than Avruellen anticipated. After walking almost two miles, from the top of a rise they saw three horses in the distance and a black outline that was half as big as the horses; it was a shape Avruellen remembered well. She resisted the urge to run, but it seemed Bronwyn didn’t have the same discipline—one of the horses broke away from the group and galloped towards Avruellen. “It’s her,” Flux confirmed after sniffing the air. Avruellen clasped her hands in front of her and bit the inside of her cheek again. When the horse neared, she could see it was Prince. Bronwyn, confident and glorious, sat in the saddle, dark hair streaming out behind. Avruellen hadn’t smiled that wide for a long time.

In one fluid motion, Bronwyn reined in Prince and dismounted, running into Avruellen’s arms. Avruellen hugged her close and kissed her forehead, breathing in the fragrance that was Bronny mixed with horse. “Ah, my child. When you were taken from me, I thought I’d never see you again.”

Bronwyn squeezed her aunt then stepped back. “I thought I’d never see you either. I have so much to tell you and…” Her smile evaporated. “And you have a lot to tell me, I suspect.”

The older realmist knew, then, what Bronwyn meant. “How did you find out?” Arcon and Blayke reached them. Avru
ellen looked at Arcon, “Did he tell you?” There was no malice, only weary acceptance and a letting go of tension as the rope binding all her secrets slid undone. “It seems we have much to talk about.”

Arcon swung his leg over and jumped down. “So many aches and pains. These old bones aren’t what they used to be.”

“You look okay to me,” said Avruellen as she stepped towards him, and they embraced; she was careful not to dislodge Phantom, who slept on Arcon’s shoulder, his face burrowed beneath a wing. “It’s been too long. And this must be Blayke.” Blayke gave a short bow and grinned.

“Pleased to meet you, Auntie.”

“What a handsome young man.” Avruellen nodded, pleased. “And this must be Fang.” She took his paw between her fingertips and gently shook it in greeting, after which she turned to Sinjenasta. The realmist matched gazes with the giant cat before speaking. “So, this is Drakon’s beast. I hope you’ve been taking good care of my niece?”

I think I’ve done a good job, although she is stubborn. How did you cope all those years?

Avruellen laughed, a sound she hadn’t made in weeks. “So, you feel my pain. Hmm, I think you and I are going to get along just fine.”

Bronwyn rose from hugging Flux. “Okay, I know I’m so wonderful you just can’t stop talking about me, but I’m hungry. I’m sure you can take us somewhere nice to eat and finish the conversation. Let’s go.” She linked her arm with her aunt’s while Arcon led her mount. The lament of the breeze as it played amongst the grass and gnarled bushes gave a whispered accompaniment as they strolled towards Carpus. In the excitement of the reunion, Arcon forgot to mask their symbols in the Second Realm. By the time he realized, it was already too late.

After reassuring the owner of the Seafarers Inn that the giant black panther with her was tame, Avruellen settled everyone in their rooms. The humans had a chance to freshen up before eating, and now the group took lunch in the timber-paneled, private dining room of the inn, except for Phantom, who slept in a room upstairs. Sinjenasta lay on the floor under the table, shielding their symbols while everyone ate. In order to shield properly, the realmist doing the shielding had to be close enough that their energy could reach the people whom he was shielding, because the symbols in the Second Realm had to be close together. Instead of the realmist taking the energy from the Second Realm to use in the First Realm, their symbol was acting in the Second Realm. It was almost like hiding everyone with one blanket—the realmist could only channel so much power through his or her symbol, and the power to cover so many symbols was not easy to hold onto. The smaller the area they had to cover, the easier it was.

“I thought creaturas couldn’t shield?” Bronwyn just realized Sinjenasta should not have been able to do what he had been doing for the last few days.

“He’s a special case, because he has the connection to Drakon.” Arcon lied—he wasn’t ready to tell Bronwyn that her panther actually started life as a human and was eagerly waiting the day he could return to his original form. They had enough trust issues to deal with.

Blayke changed the subject, speaking around a mouthful of baked fish. “Nice cutlery; is it silver?” Everyone stared at him.

“What? Since when have you taken an interest in cutlery?” Arcon asked, and Bronwyn laughed.

Blayke blushed. “I don’t know. I guess it’s just nice to be eating somewhere civilized for a change. Remind me never to appreciate anything in front of you again.”

“I understand you, even though I have no interest in cutlery,” said Fang, his whiskers twitching in a ratty giggle.

Bronwyn leaned over and gave Blayke a quick hug. When he looked at her, surprise on his face, she smiled. “Hey, big bro, I can do that now. I’m the annoying little sister you never had.”

“How do you know I’m older?” Blayke turned to Arcon. “So, who did come out first: me or Bronwyn?”

“You don’t expect me to pay attention to stuff like that. I wasn’t even in the room.”

“It was Bronwyn.” Avruellen answered, her voice tight with emotion. Bronwyn looked at her, all the hurt she had pushed down gushing upwards, stinging her throat with its acid.

Her gray eyes darkened, like an approaching storm. “How could you hide that from me for all these years? Every time I asked a question, you knew, but you let me think I had no one, that my parents didn’t love me, that I was no one. How could you? Do you even have a heart?”

She was standing, looking down at Avruellen, who sat across from her, fork frozen halfway to her mouth. The only sound in the room was muffled laughter from the common room downstairs.

Avruellen placed her fork on the table, letting both hands rest on either side of her plate. For the first time in her life, Bronwyn looked into her aunt’s eyes and saw not anger or guardedness, but sorrow and apology. Avruellen held her gaze. “I know you didn’t mean that last comment.”

Bronwyn swallowed. “No, I’m just angry. Sorry. But why can’t you just answer my question? Arcon explained why you had to do it, but that doesn’t stop me feeling hurt. Do you know how many times I asked myself over and over who my parents were? I would have given anything to see them, even once. I never really knew who I was, and you saw that, but you said nothing. Surely when I was a bit older you could have explained it to me; I would have understood. And now, when you have the opportunity to explain, you can’t even admit that what you did has hurt me.”

Avruellen stood and left without saying anything. Bronwyn looked at Arcon who frowned at her. “What? Why are looking at me like that?”

“I know you have questions you need your aunt to answer, but you’ve had a few days to adjust. We’ve dropped this on her today. Give her time to adapt.”

“Oh, great, so I have to give in as usual because you’re both older and are out to save the world. It’s for my own good and I should just shut up and be thankful I don’t even know my own parents. Well, not anymore.” Bronwyn thrust her chair back, the tempest in her eyes showering Arcon with rage before she stormed out.

Bronwyn ran down one flight of stairs to the ground floor and out the front door. She sprinted blindly down the main street, anger driving her onward. As she ran, shopfronts turned to houses, which eventually turned to scrub. The street shrunk into a narrower, sandy road that gradually descended as it led north. Bronwyn, puffing, slowed to a walk. Her surroundings came into focus. She noticed she wasn’t far above the harbor.

She found a flat rock and sat down, staring out to sea—a view she hadn’t seen before. Avruellen’s home was inland, and they had never travelled anywhere that Bronwyn could remember. Gulls coasted high above the water—occasionally she would see one dive, hurtling beak-first into the ocean, to appear soon with a mouthful of what she assumed was fish. She breathed in the briny air and delighted in the tang that filled her nostrils.

“Nice view, isn’t it?” Bronwyn turned. A well-dressed man wearing polished black boots and a brown vest smiled down at her. As he reached for her, the sleeve of his white shirt slid up, and she noticed an unusual symbol that appeared to be burnt into the skin on the underside of his wrist. She didn’t know what it was, but the symbol made her shiver. It was the last thing she saw before her vision shrunk to a pinhole, and darkness called her home.

***

Sinjenasta’s eyes snapped open. He crawled out from under the table and turned his yellow orbs on Arcon. He spoke into Arcon’s mind.
What in Drakon’s name just happened? Bronwyn’s symbol pulled out of the shielding and now it’s gone.

Arcon’s face drained of color. “Blayke, go and tell Avruellen that Bronwyn’s gone missing. I want you to go to the south end of town and look for her. Sinjenasta and I will go north. Hurry.”

Sinjenasta sat and raised a paw.
Wait. Let me pick up the scent. There’s no point wasting time and energy when I can pinpoint which direction she went
. The panther trotted out of the inn and turned left.
She’s gone north. Blayke, stay with Avruellen; we don’t want anyone else to go missing.

Sinjenasta jogged down the street, Arcon at his side. When they reached the rock where Bronwyn
had stopped, the trail turned west, towards the water.

Arcon noticed blood on the ground and tested it between his fingers. “It’s still wet. Is it hers?”

Sinjenasta sniffed.
Yes. But it’s not much. Maybe they hit her over the head?” He started in the direction of her trail. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve taken to sea. We may have to hire a boat. I’ll need you to do the talking
.

The panther, with urgent steps, made his way down the gradual incline towards the docks, Arcon behind, battling to keep up on the uneven, pebble-strewn path.

As Sinjenasta sauntered to the end of the long timber wharf, sailors and merchants ran to get out of the way, and Arcon was reminded that to everyone else, the giant panther was a lethal nightmare come to life—Arcon was glad he was on their side. On reaching the end, both stared out to sea. They watched as two ships, one larger than the other, sailed out of the harbor, one tacking to sail north, the other continuing east. “I don’t suppose you can follow the scent over the water?”

Not usually, but I might pick up the trail if the wind is blowing in our direction. I don’t like our chances; those ships are too far ahead. I think you’ve got some investigating to do
.

Arcon retraced his steps back along the wharf and stopped at the first ship where an overseer was supervising the unloading of live yamuks and cows. The overseer gesticulated with his pen, punctuating each number as he counted. He wore a too-big shirt, and his wispy hair refused to sit politely on his head, sticking out at odd angles and making him look like a slightly demented orchestra conductor. “Excuse me, sir?” He kept counting, so Arcon spoke louder and waved a hand in front of his face. “Hello. Excuse me.”

The man shook his head as if startled out of a daydream and held his hand up towards two leather-skinned men who were facilitating the unloading. “Stop!” he shouted. He looked at Arcon, blinking rapidly. “Can I help you?”

“Yes. Sorry to bother you while you’re in the middle of everything, but did you see who was on the last two ships that left the harbor? I’m looking for a young woman with long dark hair. I think she would have been being carried.”

“And what’s your business with this young woman?”

“She’s my niece, and she’s been kidnapped.” Arcon didn’t think it would do to make up stories at this stage, and he hoped the terrible situation would create enough sympathy that anyone would be eager to help.

“How much is the information worth?”

Arcon rolled his eyes. “You’re kidding, right?”

The overseer attempted to smooth down his hair, which sprang up immediately and dashed any hope he had of looking serious. “No, I’m not kidding. How do I know you’re telling the truth? If you’re desperate enough, you’ll pay.”

Arcon sighed heavily. “How much?”

“Two silvers.” Arcon would usually haggle in a negotiation—it galled him to pay more than something was worth—but in this case, the information was worth the cost and more. It didn’t stop him being disappointed that no one was willing to help just because it was the right thing to do. He reached into his pocket and found two silvers.

The supervisor jangled them in his palm, feeling the weight. “Your niece is on the smaller vessel—the Rapture. A fellow, who goes by the name of Morth, carried her. He arrived this morning and was quick to hire the first boat he could get.”

“Was he alone when he arrived?”

“No. He had a cranky, older woman with him and another young girl. Couldn’t tell you who they were, though. I saw the old lady slap him on the back of the head once when he must’ve said something she didn’t want to hear. It’s just not right, when a woman intimidates a man like that.”