The Marked Son (Keepers of Life) (21 page)

Omission of Truth

She’s gone. It feels like my heart’s been ripped out, and I don’t like the feeling. I turn and stare at Faldon, who’s staring back.

“Did the
pux
tell you about me?”

“I told you, I need nothing so archaic. My gift is that of a seer. I’ve known about you since the moment you took your first breath. I imagine the
pux
were the ones who informed the council.”

“Don’t you know for sure?”

The wrinkles on his face deepen. “I know the council is aware the wall has been breached, but they don’t know how. I assume Kera has found another way though?”

I ignore his question, and I ask one of my own. “You see the future? Tell me about mine and Kera’s.”

“I’m allowed glimpses, but the whole story is never revealed.”

How convenient, and said like every fortune-telling con-artist he’d ever encountered on the street. I wait to hear more, but he’s done sharing.

Finally, Faldon looks away and moves to the stone sink. He returns to the table and plops a bowl down between us. Inside, tiny fish slip and slide along their scaly bellies. The stink rolls through the kitchen. That’s where the death smell is coming from—not whatever he’s brewing. It smells ten times worse than canned cat food.

He fetches the bird stand, and the tiny dragon flaps its wings as Faldon places it and the perch near the table. Grasping a tiny fish by the tail, he holds it out to his Mushu-sized dragon. He flicks the fish in the air and watches the dragon gulp it down.

Faldon pinches another one in his fingers. “Love is our curse.”

It’s going to be like that, huh? “So I’ve heard.”

“This is not an easy thing you’ve taken on.”

“That’s funny, ’cause for me, it’s easy to love Kera.”

“Love can kill as easily as it can create.”

Yep. This guy’s a winner. Why did I think I could find a place to belong here? The human side of me doesn’t fit in. I take in the open floor plan. Steep stairs line the wall opposite the fireplace. The place is cozy. Nothing like the man in front of me.

It must be an act, this cool indifference of Faldon’s. I can play the same game. If I pretend like I don’t care, he won’t know how much I do. “You always so morbid? Let me guess. You never found your soul mate and now you’re bitter because of it.”

“She died in the war. A victim of hate because she loved so many.”

I grow still as his pain rips into me. He’s concentrating a little too hard on feeding his pet. I’m not such a jerk that I can’t admit when I’ve crossed the line. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“You’re young. Death shouldn’t be on your mind.” His gaze slams into mine, and I can’t break away from its intensity. “But the path you’ve chosen will surely put it there. You can’t have Kera.”

“Why not?” Was I created only to stir up disgust? Why was my search for a moment of happiness a bad thing? “What’s so wrong with me?”

I try to hold back my anger, but it floods my system, itching under my skin. My whole life I’ve been clawing my way toward one moment of happiness, and every time I get a glimpse of it, someone tries to jerk it away from me. I’ve had it with being abused. I shove a chair across the room, startling the tiny dragon into another hiss and fire spit. I ignore it and storm toward Faldon, stopping inches away. “Why can’t we be happy? Who says we can’t?”

I’m being an ass, but I can’t help myself. I stand, chest heaving, basically doing my best to intimidate him, but my little fit doesn’t faze the old guy. He continues to feed his creepy little pet. “Not I, if that’s where your mind wanders. Others who fear change and who love power above all else are the ones to blame. Make no mistake. They’re ferocious in their desires and will stop at nothing to secure their claims. Murder is
not
beneath them.”

“I’m not scared.”

“Only fools rush into a fight and sacrifice others without thought.”

“Do you see me rushing?”

He picks up the bowl and looks at me. “Then you know all there is to know?”

About Kera? Yes. We’re two halves of a whole.

“I know she’s half human. I know we share something different. Special. I also know this is one messed-up place that kills innocent people. You’ve managed to keep her secret safe so far, but it’s getting harder, and I seem to be the only one who’s willing to do something before your little deception explodes. What else do I need to know?”

“Then she’s told you why she ran to you? Why she had to see you.
One
last
time
?”

“Because I’m marked for death? Yeah. Let me tell you something, I’m not exactly wanted in my world, either.”

“Sit,” he says.

I stand while he puts the bowl of fish in a cabinet, then gives a large, old-fashioned hand pump a few good yanks, so he can wash his hands in the stone sink.

When he returns, he pulls out a chair. “Sit. There’s more to her visit than she let on.”

I don’t like the sound of that. The vibe coming off him tells me he’s conflicted. He cares deeply for Kera—that’s clear—but I get the feeling his goal is to try and talk me out of doing what I’ve come to do.

I grab the chair and sit, crossing my arms over my chest. “Okay,” I say in a rough voice. “Give it a shot. Convince me we’re wrong.”

The dragon sidles closer to Faldon, and a rumble starts in its throat. Faldon touches the pointed horns, letting his finger bump down the scaly back. He gets to the base of the tail and looks up. “You misunderstand my intent. I only wish to open your eyes.”

“Then open them.”

“Kera is betrothed.”

Whatever I thought he was going to say didn’t even come close to this. I know what he’s saying, I’ve heard the word before, but it can’t be real. I sit forward. “You’re lying.”

“I can’t lie. They marry in two days.”

I slouch back into the chair. “Two days?” How could she tell me she loved me when she’s going to marry another guy? It doesn’t make sense. What we feel for each other is real. It’s once in a lifetime. I’m sure of it. “She’s being forced, isn’t she?”

Faldon’s expression tightens. “He’s a famed warmonger. A prince, of sorts. He can give Kera everything her heart desires.”

He’s not answering my question. “But she doesn’t love him, does she?”

“He can give her every comfort she wants. Keep her safe. What of you? What can you give her?”

“Love.”

“A love laced with fear?” he scoffs. “Scared every moment they’ll find you and end your lives? That kind of love?”

The shock of her omission is wearing off, and this guy is really beginning to annoy me. I sit up straight and stare him down. “Love that protects. That allows her to be who she is.
That
kind of love.”

“The kind of love you’ve always longed for but never found until now.” His voice drips with sarcasm, and he smiles, sensing he’s gotten under my skin. He flicks his hand in the air as if to shoo away a pest. “Pretty, yet empty, words, and spoken by one who isn’t even fully a
first
.”

“Is that’s what’s got you all woman scared?” I’m good and ticked off now. My mind churns, twisting my emotions into an ugly mess I can’t control. I’ve never felt like this. It’s not me, but like a train barreling toward a dead end, I can’t stop. I stand, kick back my chair, and close my eyes. Power floods into me, and when I open my eyes, everything has a sharp edge. Colors are hot. The air electrified.

Faldon steps back. Panic flares in his eyes before he covers it up. “What are you doing?”

I smile, not letting on what’s straining to get out. The house begins to rumble. Floorboards shudder. Rafters groan. Dishes shake and fall to the floor. The little dragon squawks as his stand sways violently. Somewhere in the house, a cat howls.

Faldon frowns. The control he has is impressive, but I can hear his heart beating fast. He’s uncomfortable—maybe even scared—but not convinced.

It’s time to convince him.

The front door flies open, then bangs shut. The pump floods the sink with water. The flame under the vial shoots higher. The window panes shatter one by one. Faldon flinches with each explosion.

Near the stairs, a trap door is flung open and a withered, dust-covered little man scrambles out.

“What goes on here?” he shouts at Faldon.

The sage grabs the table for support, his eyes showing his distress, and the little man’s frown deepens. The dwarf’s projecting ears twitch, swinging their fleshy lobes, while his eyes lock onto me.

I hear neighbors run from their homes, yelling for their loved ones. The stand shakes harder, begins to topple. The dragon leaps into the air and darts around the room, spitting fire and zipping past us. The dwarf’s hair catches on fire and he yelps and pats the flames out, then points an oversized, gnarled hand at me. “Stop. Stop. Bodog says stop!”

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, and when I open them, the sharpness fades and the colors dull, and Faldon and Bodog are staring heatedly at me. I throw a superior smile at Faldon. “I told you. I’m not scared.”

“Destruction and chaos!” cries the dwarf, his attention split between the pair of us. His disproportionately large hands flail and his massive feet stomp. “Have you no sense?”

Faldon manages to catch the dragon and cuddle it to his chest.

“Well?” My question is clear. Is he friend or foe?

Footsteps rush toward the front door. A hard knock and shout follow. “Faldon. Is all well?”

Faldon glares at me. “
Fool
. Your stubbornness and obsession with Kera will be the end of you both.” He pushes me toward the withered, little man. “Take him. And make sure no harm befalls him.”

Though he reaches barely taller than my knees, the dwarf wraps his meaty paw around my hand, and with a vise-like grip, drags me into the hole and down the stairs leading beneath the house. The trap door squeaks on its hinges, and bangs shut.

Darkness encases us in a slick and musty smelling tomb.

“Quietly now,” the dwarf says in a harsh, breathy voice as he tugs me deeper into the pit. “No room for mistakes.”

He isn’t kidding. The space crowds my shoulders, and I bend forward so I don’t hit my head on the sloped ceiling. Voices chase us deep into the dark until we finally level out. In the cool, damp air, Bodog sparks a wick coiled within a lantern. Light flares, and he swings the lantern in front of him. The first things I see are twisted, brown tree roots poking through the earthen walls like fingers through mud. Mushrooms, aglow with an eerie light, cling to every opening.

Huffing and puffing, he heads down the tunnel, taking the only light source with him.

“Wait!” I shout. “Won’t we be going back up soon?”

I try several more times to get his attention, but nothing I say stops the little man. The light slowly fades, and I’m forced to follow him to the entrance of an open space. In the middle of the room sits a tiny wooden table surrounded by a clutter of axes and shovels, wheelbarrows, and strange, sled-like carts. A ratty bed sits in the corner, and one change of clothes hangs on a peg beside it. A layer of dirt covers everything. I stand at the entrance and watch the pale little man shuffle from disheveled pile to disheveled pile, rattling whatever lies beneath and creating a storm of dust.

“How will we know when Faldon’s guests leave?” I ask.

“Talk, talk, talk,” he grumbles, then adds, “Silence broadens the mind.”

Seriously. Is this guy some sort of philosopher? And then I hear it—the soft echo of Faldon’s voice along with his guests. There has to be some kind of ventilation system that he’s using to listen in on Faldon’s conversations. Clever little dwarf.

I slowly make my way to the table that’s on the scale of a Little Tykes picnic set. It’s not only dusty, it’s filthy with remnants of last night’s—and probably all last week’s—food glued to the surface. The benches tucked underneath aren’t much better. I wonder if it’ll hold my weight.

“I’m going out on a limb here, but I’m guessing you don’t own a scrub brush.”

“Don’t touch anything.” His gravelly voice matches his wrinkled form. “This is all Bodog’s. Not yours, halfling.”