Powers of the Six (23 page)

“If you don’t know,” Alec said, a bitter edge to his voice, “I’m sure none of us do.”

“It doesn’t belong here, not in this rubble.” Kardos ran his finger over the edge of the blade. “Magnificent work. Recently forged, I’d guess. Not a scratch on it.”

Everyone stared at the weapon, unable to speak. If the sword was hidden in the rubble, what did it mean? Not that Nolan knew a lot about weapons, but the thing was
huge.
He shuddered. He’d hate to see a man—or worse yet, something not human— big enough to actually swing it.

Emery rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, if what you say is true, Alec, someone—or something—has passed here of late. And whatever it was, it’s come too close to our village.”

“Then we’d best leave straight away,” Hakan said. Without waiting for anyone else, he trudged into the forest.

“I agree,” Emery said. “Though, I’d like to return and examine it more closely. An entire city doesn’t get lost without reason.” He motioned to where Hakan disappeared. “We’d better move.”

Kardos heaved the large sword over a shoulder.

“You’re taking that?” Alec asked.

Kardos snorted in reply, stepping around Alec; Alec dodged a near miss with the shining blade.

“Come, boy,” Kardos growled. “Standing here won’t get us anywhere.”

Nolan lingered, not quite ready to leave. He scanned the fallen city one last time.
So much to learn. What happened? How did it fall?
Then, reluctantly, he followed, questions flashing through his mind.

***

They continued through the forest, and thankfully, Hakan’s mood lightened. Nolan also noticed Daren wiping his forehead with his sleeve and scowling as he stomped along.

“What’s wrong with him?” Nolan asked Taryn.

“He’s been like that for a while, since before we found the city. He’s been ignoring Rylan and me like he’s mad at us.” She pressed her mouth tightly in annoyance. “Maybe he caught whatever Hakan has.”

“For Brim’s sake, Taryn,” Daren said. “I can hear you.” He cast a foul glare her way and jogged ahead to walk next to Hakan.

“I see what you mean,” Alec noted. “Maybe that stone is messing with their minds.” He eyed the bag at Nolan’s waist.

“It’s
not
the stone.” Nolan yanked on the strap of his bag, adjusting it from Alec’s reach.

“He has a point, Nolan,” Taryn said. “It made you lose your senses in Alton.”

“It’s different. I wasn’t like either of them.”

“Of course,” Alec said. “You only ran into a wall of arrows.”

Nolan winced. Like he needed a reminder.

Away from the ruined city, the forest took on a more civilized feel and paths cut through the dense foliage. The flattened soil underfoot was wonderful after days of cutting their way through the vast woods. After a very long hour, a man stepped soundlessly out of the trees.

A sword seemed to appear in Alec’s hand.

“It’s okay,” Emery said. “He’s a friend.”

The man wore only a pair of leather breeches: no shirt, shoes, or weapon of any kind. His torso—bronzed darker than Nolan had ever seen—was well developed. He crossed his arms over his chest, not returning Emery’s warm greeting.

“It’s about time.” The man’s dark eyes scanned the group as he pushed a strand of black hair from his face. “You have new initiates, I see.”

“Indeed, Maska. We’ve added four.”

“Not as many as your last excursion,” Maska said. “Are you all well?”

“Some more than others.” Emery gestured toward Hakan.

Hakan growled. “Enough of this. You all think you know everything? Well then, find your way without me.” He clomped ahead of them on the path, like a small child throwing a tantrum.

Maska studied his retreating form. “It would appear Hakan has come upon the same ailment as many in the village. The mood has grown exceptionally foul today.”

Emery and Maska led the way, discussing the strange atmosphere passing over their home. Nolan noticed Maska’s fluid movements. Every sweep of his arm, every step he took, resembled a synchronized dance. And his accent, though faint, reminded him of someone … something …

Nolan snapped his fingers. “Ha! You’re Talasian.”

They all stopped. Maska turned with a curious expression, the first hint of emotion Nolan had seen since they’d met.

“Duke Ragnall’s wife is from Talasi,” Nolan said. “You remind me of her.”

“Duke Ragnall?” Maska asked.

“He’s the duke of Alton,” Emery answered.

Maska nodded. “One of my people would not marry a duke, especially from this land. Our people tend not to stay long. We are rarely welcomed, let alone married to leaders. This woman you speak of, I doubt she is Talasian. You must be mistaken.” He turned and continued his conversation with Emery as if Nolan hadn’t spoken.

Megan gave Nolan a sly smile. “Don’t worry too much about Maska. He’s not rude, really. He just isn’t allowed to show emotions. It’s part of the culture of Talasi. Emotions are a sign of weakness.”

“I don’t think he needs to worry about weakness.” Nolan noted the muscles chiseled onto Maska’s bronzed back.

“He was disowned by his people,” Megan said. “That’s why he’s here in Adamah.”

“Disowned? What he’d do?”

“He won’t say,” she answered. “He’s a man without a country. He doesn’t feel comfortable in Adamah, yet he isn’t allowed into his own land.”

She casually linked her arm in Nolan’s. He’d seen her do it enough times with Emery and Flann; he tried not to make anything more of it. But even so, he took a deep breath to calm his pulse.

“We think his power has something to do with it,” she said. “As far as we know, he’s the only Talasian with a Shay.”

Nolan didn’t know anything about Talasi. None of the plethora of books he owned talked of them. His only experience was with Mikayla.

“What’s his Shay?” Nolan asked.

“Strength.”

Strength fit him. “And how did he end up here?”

“Emery found him,” Megan said. “He saved some idiots who were going to attack Maska.” She shook her head. “Little did those men know what they were up against. Luckily, Emery prevented it before it happened. He could read their intentions. And, of course, he also saw Maska’s gift. Emery has a knack for finding people.”

Her gaze rested on Nolan; she wasn’t just speaking of Maska.

“I suppose he’s found quite a few,” Nolan added. “Probably you as well?”

She laughed. “No. He found Flann. I came along because I’m family. My power didn’t emerge until two years after I arrived at the village. I fell, broke my arm, and ended up healing myself.”

“That was convenient,” Nolan said.

“Very.” She smiled. “Though, with all the healers in the village, I would’ve been just fine.”

“So how old are you, anyway. Sixteen? Seventeen?”

She giggled. “No. I’m twenty.”

Twenty?
His heart sank.
Crows, what must she think of my dumb ogling.

They walked in awkward silence while Emery and Maska continued to speak of what had happened since Emery left for Alton. It was strange to see such a lack of expression in someone when speaking of such horrible events. Even when Emery spoke of his capture, Maska only nodded, as if he were mildly interested at best.

“Why would a whole race of people hide emotions?” Nolan whispered.

“Perhaps they have no choice,” Megan answered.

“No. The duke’s wife has no problems expressing emotions.”

“Maybe Maska’s right. Are you sure she’s Talasian?”

“I’m positive.” Nolan saw Mikayla’s emotions a lot more than he wanted to, especially the
“I want you”
kind.

“How’d the duke get a Talasian wife, anyway?” she asked.

“She was a gift.”

“A gift? From whom?”

Nolan frowned. “King Alcandor.”

“We’re almost there,” Emery said. “It’s right through—”

A group of people clustered in a clearing, yelling. An older man’s voice, in particular, rose above the rest.

“If you’d excuse me,” Emery said and went toward the group. They stopped fighting and presented their case to Emery without even a hello.

“Oh my,” Megan whispered. She pointed to the older man. He was tall and thin with wavy brown hair. “That’s Garrick. He’s one of the founders of our village, an original Rol’dan who escaped with Emery. He’s also the calmest, most steady man you’ll ever meet.”

Garrick jabbed his finger into Emery’s chest as he screamed curses.

“He doesn’t seem very calm.”

“Exactly,” she said. “And those others are his students. He helps train those who come into Accuracy. While in the Rol’dan, he was the highest ranking archer …”

Her voice trailed off. “I don’t understand. Garrick’s usually so calm.”

A violet light took hold in Emery’s eyes. The curses in the group faltered and then stilled. Emery spoke to them briefly, then they trudged off the field. It was then Nolan saw a grouping of structures in the center of the huge clearing. Small houses. People coming and going. Carrying baskets. Hanging clothes.

Emery approached with the tall man; light brown hair hung in the man’s face. “I wanted you all to meet a good friend of mine, Garrick Grayson,” Emery said, frowning.

Garrick offered his hand and shook Alec’s first, a hard smile plastered on his face. “It’s good to meet you. Welcome to our family.”

He shook hands with everyone, shifting from one leg to another like he’d rather be anywhere else. When he got to Nolan, his countenance changed slightly. “What did you say your name was?”

“Nolan Trividar.” He held out his hand; however, the man only stared at him with a strange, hungry expression. Nolan pulled back and stepped away.

Emery placed an arm on Garrick’s shoulder. “Flann, can you show the others around and find them a place to stay?” He pointed toward the buildings. “The smithy shop is still empty. Alec and Kardos can go there.”

Emery met their gazes, apology lingering in his brown eyes. “We’ll sort this out, I promise. Please, make yourselves at home.”

Emery led Garrick away. Nolan tried to forget Garrick’s strange look, and the way it made his skin crawl. Instead, he focused on the new sights around him.

They stood in a pleasant field, a dozen practice targets an easy shot away. The town—or village, they’d said—was centered in the clearing. To the east of the village rested a calm and welcoming lake. Several trees lined its edge strategically. Nolan wondered if some Strength user had transplanted them. To the west of the structures, a grouping of people sparred with swords. Surrounding the entire clearing were poles with lanterns.

“This way,” Flann said with a smile.

As they drew closer, details of the structures came into view. Warm smiles greeted them as they walked a dirt road between rows of small cottages. The buildings stood close together, but it didn’t seem crowded. Instead, Nolan thought the whole place was cozy. The cottages were plain wood and stone, natural grays and browns instead of Alton’s gaudy colors. Nolan had never seen anything so wonderful.

Without saying a word, a woman handed Nolan a warm basket and smiled; a flash of Empathy flared in her eyes. He blinked back confusion before the smell of fresh bread met his senses.

“That’s Mary,” Megan added. “She likes to bake.”

They’d suddenly become the center of attention as people came outside.

“Welcome,” said a man with a full mustache. He patted Nolan’s shoulder as they walked on.

A little girl ran up to Taryn, giggling, and handed her a handful of dandelions. Taryn knelt next to her and they whispered together as if they’d known each other for years. Somewhere close by a dog barked, and children played. Nolan had imagined a group of hard-faced traitors, sulking over a fire as they discussed their imminent capture. He’d never imagined such a place.

Nolan began to realize how void his life had been the last two years. He had no friends in the manor. Only his books. His brother—the rare moments he’d see him—went out of his way to make his miserable life even more miserable. Even before then, when he’d lived at home, his father criticized him like he wasn’t even his son. And now, strangers welcomed him? Without question and with open arms?

“Nolan?” Megan broke into his thoughts. “You okay?”

Nolan smiled. His nose was running. He wiped his face and … Crows! He was crying?
What must she think of me?

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” she said, as if she didn’t notice his humiliating display.

Nolan didn’t dare answer. Even when he was home with his family, he never felt like he totally belonged … like he did now.

Chapter Twenty

NOLAN PUSHED HIS SPECTACLES to the top of his head and stared at the stone with his naked eye. He’d seen pretty much everything, as far as stones went. Growing up near the sea had given him plenty of opportunities. He’d collected rocks and shells as a child, but none of those gave him strange sensations like this one.