28. Voices

“I was around the last time Ithari chose a host…and I know for a fact that you’re not the only one using that body."

When the Gem awakens to call a Hero, the world is ill prepared...and its fate is placed in the hands of a 17 year old boy, named Wendell. 

Some will say this is nothing but a tale of fiction.
Let them think as they may. 

After all...I can't fix stupid.

Previously: Wendell makes it to Til-Thorin safely, is reunited with his companions…including the girl of his dreams.

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Hearing voices doesn’t mean you’re crazy.
…but it’s not always wise to answer the voices back.

“YOU!” I blurted with a gasp.

Lili hadn’t even reached the group before I pushed past Chuck, Alhannah and Lady Tamorah to confront her.

She didn’t look much younger than me. Her hair bounced with each step, cascading curls that framed her face perfectly. Her eyes were deep and dark, holding a fierce intensity that drew you in. Her lips were full and inviting, curving into a sly smile that hinted at secrets and…

Okay…she was seriously pretty.

She was still wearing the gray fur vest she had on when I’d first seen her in the Black Market. She even had the large pouch slung across her shoulder and chest — like in the dream.

She had a buckler strapped to her forearm and held a club in her other hand.

The closer I got to her, the higher the club rose.

Alhannah quickly skipped in front of me.

“Hannah,” Lili smiled, redirecting her attention. She didn’t lower her club.

The gnome warrior looked over her shoulder and gave me a warning glance. She hit me in the leg, then turned around with a broad smile so big it even made her eyes grin. “You didn’t get far.”

Lili crinkled one of her eyebrows, looking between the gnome and me. “No, I didn’t…”

My eyes remained fixed.

What was she doing here? The girl of my dreams…right in front of me…for the second time. Oh, my GOSH, she was pretty! The soft curves of her eyebrows and how they complemented the long lashes of…

I froze mid-gawk.

Lili's eyes had locked onto mine. Not with the disdain of the Market, but with a spark of curiosity. Her brow furrowed slightly, as if sifting through memories or assembling a mental jigsaw. Her gaze traced my features, and the club in her hand gradually dipped to rest harmlessly at her side.

Soldiers marched around us. The sound of children crying drifted out from the Great Hall. Dax ran up the steps with another armful of blankets.

I frowned, which deepened the longer I stood there. Okay, she was here. At Til-Thorin, same as me, at this horrible point in time, right before some crazy invasion. Impossible odds, sure, but here we were.

And she still didn’t recognize me!

I’d risked my life to save her! On MANY occasions, mind you…and even once for real.

Against a giant.

…with my bare fists!

sigh

Lili’s mouth slowly opened. Her eyes grew wide.

But it didn’t matter to me. I just couldn’t take any more.

“Are we going to start fighting or something?” I asked abruptly.

All I got were blank stares back.

“Right,” I said. Spinning on my heel, I turned and strutted past Chuck, not sure where I was going.

I didn’t care. So long as it wasn’t anywhere near her.

“Uhhh,” stammered the wizard awkwardly. He shrugged. “Too many thumps on the head, I think. I’m gonna…yeah — I’ll…show him to his room. ”

“What is wrong with you, son?” grunted Chuck, quickly lifting his robe to keep from tripping on the stairs.

I had been given a tower apartment at Chuck's request. It was quite a walk for the old man, but he’d told the steward it was for the view. In reality, he’d discovered that the soldiers who’d abused Dax when they’d arrived were assigned to a post at the base of the tower.

It gave him the opportunity to drop things out the window when he felt so inclined.

“What’s wrong with me?” I blurted out. It felt like the world was closing in and I was choking. I tugged at the torn collar of my tunic and gasped a couple of times, swallowing loudly.

The wizard shook his head, irritated. “We’re not going to get far in this conversation if you keep repeating me.”

“Nothing is what I think it is. Nothing makes sense. Nothing works the way I want it to. Nothing works the way I NEED it too!” I paused to catch my breath, falling back heavily against the stone wall.

“Well,” replied Chuck, flipping the front of his hat up with a forefinger, “that’s a lot of nothing.”

I fumed.

“Oh come on, it can’t be that bad?” He leaned forward and jabbed me in the shoulder. “You’re here! You’re safe!” He crinkled his nose, “Ok,…moderately safe.”

“Chuck…a woman lost her little boy.” My fingers scraped painfully against the stone at my side. The pain was somehow comforting. “…because I couldn’t use the Ithari to heal him.” The words were dry, and they fell from my lips. “A woman…no,” I corrected myself, “a fatherless, poor family, who cared for me when I was wounded — and I let the boy die because I didn’t know how to use this!” I bounced my palm off the center of my chest.

The wizard sat back on the step, deflated. “I see.”

“She saw the gem, too. Believed I was this…this Gnolaum.”

“Ouch.”

The icy wind whipped up the staircase, and I shivered.

“To make matters worse, I keep having this dream. Well, sort of — and Lili,” I stared at the wizard, almost pleadingly, “is always in them.” I let my head fall back against the cold stone and exhaled a long, monotone groan. “I’m going insane, Chuck.”

“No, you’re not,” the wizard corrected me calmly, “You’re completely exhausted. You need a little rest, probably a decent meal.”

Tugging on my tunic, Chuck led me to the top of the tower. Pushing open the door, he grabbed me firmly by both shoulders and guided me over to the cot. With a wave of his hand, the candles in the room ignited. Clapping his hands together, the logs in the fireplace grate burst into in yellow and orange flames. “Rest. Now.”

I frowned. “What about…?”

“I’ll check on your wounded friend. Robert will most likely be talking strategy with the Steward, the elves, and your new woodsy-looking companions. The whole Keep is at the ready, waiting for the giants to make their move. You’re safe.” He lightly rapped me on the top of the head with a finger. “…and your pretty girl isn’t going anywhere. Ok?”

“Whatever,” I said.

The wizard rolled his eyes, “Right. Whatever.” He chuckled softly as he walked out. Pulling the door behind him, Chuck rapped the frame with his knuckles. “All in all, I’m seriously impressed with you, son.”

I snorted. “Impressed that I keep screwing things up? That I keep falling behind?”

Chuck scrunched his lips under his mustache. “No. That you kept trying, no matter what you’re experiencing. I don’t know if you screwed up, Wendell, but I do know you kept swinging…and you got here. On your own motivation and design, you still got here. Not bad for a kid, whose motivation was following the words of a letter that wasn’t even addressed to him. That, young man, is impressive.”

I hadn’t thought of it that way. For all the pain and discomfort, I actually had made it to Til-Thorin, just like I’d wanted. Just in time for…war.

“Thank you, Chuck,” I whispered, forcing myself to smile.

The wizard grinned back. “I’ll come get you in a few hours.” With that, he waved a finger through the air and all the candles extinguished. He closed the door, leaving me in the warm glow of the fire.

I woke with a start and flipped from the cot…onto the hard floor.

“Ohhh!” I moaned.

The door to my room burst open and Chuck rushed in, his hands full of books and papers. “What is it?! What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I grumbled, rubbing my sore backside.

Chuck let out a relieved sigh. “Oh, thank goodness. I thought something had happened.”

I eyed him skeptically. “Something…like what?”

“Well, after yesterday’s events, I wasn’t sure if anything might have triggered some sort of—” but he stopped.

“Some sort of what?” I said.

The wizard hesitated before finally admitting, “Magic.”

I snorted. “You were afraid I was going to, what,…‘pop’?”

“It wouldn’t be entirely unheard of,” Chuck said defensively. “The boy from the local flour mill blew himself and mill into rubble.” He scratched his head. “Crandle, I think, was his name. Not the brightest bulb, mind you, and they never did find the body…just his shoes.” He shrugged. “People said he was manifesting a gift for fire, come to think of it. Not the best skill to have in a flour mill, if you know what I mean?” He looked at me wide-eyed. “Boom.”

“You worried I’m going to…blow myself up? And why didn’t anyone bother to tell me about this before now?”

“Your gifts aren’t something that can be completely taught,” Chuck explained patiently. “Some have to be discovered on their own, and others may require some sort of catalyst to awaken them.”

“And almost dying isn’t enough of a catalyst?” I grumbled, getting up off the floor.

“I never said it had to be an unpleasant experience, son,” Chuck retorted. “It could be as simple as seeing someone else use magic, or hearing a particularly powerful enchantment.” He paused and then bobbed his eyebrows up and down at me. “Or the lovely smile of a young lady you fancy…eh?”

“Stop it,” I said, but I laughed.

Magic was the last thing on my mind right now—all I wanted was a hot meal and a good night’s sleep. Fortunately, that’s exactly what Chuck had brought me—or at least the promise of it. He laid out a spread of bread, cheese, fruit, and meat on the small table in the corner of the room, along with a pitcher of water. I served myself and sat back down close to the fire.

“You know, Chuck, I had an experience with magic just before we entered that crazy storm.”

“Magic,” Chuck said.

“What?”

“The storm. Covering everything in wicked frost? It’s not normal. Not only is it not the season, it’s moving with the army of the horde. Woodside didn’t have time to defend itself properly.” He paused, picking at the bread and butter. “Wait. You had an experience?”

I nodded as I scarfed down the cheese.

Chuck pulled a chair over and sat down next to me. “Go on…”

“Well, it’s kind of weird. I was washing at a stream and these two creatures, who looked a lot like those vallen, but smaller.”

He nodded. “They come in all sorts of sizes of ugly.”

“I was trapped with a mountainside at my back,” I said, “…and then Livi, a little girl from our party, showed up, terrified. She’d seen the creatures approaching.”

Chuck munched away on his bread, captivated. “So what happened?”

“I turned us invisible,” I said.

Chuck stopped in mid-chew. “The books I bought you don’t have that advanced magic, son.”

“But that’s what happened,” I said. “I wrapped my arms round Livi, shielding her with my body, and used that hiding spell I use for Ithari.”

Honestly, I thought I’d get a different reaction from the mägo. A ‘good job’ or ‘wow, you don’t suck’ comment, but all he did was shake his head.

“No, no,” Chuck said. “Didn’t happen. That’s not what that spell does.”

“But the vallen came right up to us, looked right AT us, Chuck, and he didn’t see us,” I said firmly.

“No. No. Impossible,” Chuck said again. Turning his body in his chair, he kept eating.

Holding the thought of my own body in my mind, I placed an open hand against my chest and whispered, “Silmä inakmään.”

Chuck turned to look at me…and promptly fell off his chair. Sandaled feet when up in the air and over his head as the old man hit the stone floor.

“NooOO. NOOOO!” he yelled, jumping back. He crouched down then, like a cat, whipping his head one way, then the other. “That is NOT HOW THE SPELL WORKS!”

“Silmä inakmään,” I said again, appearing once more where I had been sitting. I looked up at Chuck and smiled. “Like that.”

Pushing the rim of his pointy hat back with a knuckle, Chuck scowled. “That, son…is against the rules.” A huge grin then spread across his face. “Any of the rules I know, anyway.”

“I don’t even know what you mean by that.”

“It means, son, that you have a very different connection to magic!” Chuck said. “What were you thinking when you cast the spell? Do you remember?”

It wasn’t hard to remember Livi shaking, or the smell of the urine pooling at her feet as she trembled. “I wasn’t going to let anything happen to that little girl.” My jaw clenched tight. “She was terrified, Chuck, and I wasn’t sure I could fight those things, so I had to hide her from them. That’s what I was thinking. It was all about her.”

Chuck shook his head in disbelief. “That’s…completely pushing past the limits of what the spell was crafted to do. But you made it work. TWICE!” He gave my shoulder a squeeze. “Impressive, my boy. Very, very impressive.”

I grinned.

“Can’t wait to see what you do with those books I bought you!”

“Uhhhh,” I stammered.

“What?” Chuck asked.

“Wellll, Evan and I dispatched the creatures and rushed back to camp. The horses were already prepped and ready to go, so we took off as fast as we could.” I avoided looking at him, embarrassed. “I kinda left the bag and the book near the rock I was sitting against that morning.”

“You what?” he moaned.

His open disappointment made me cringe. “I was trying to keep the books a secret, and only study them when I was alone. Then Miriam told me to take the time to wash, and then there was that incident, and…”

“So you lost it?” Chuck asked plainly.

I nodded.

“Some people’s children,” Chuck mumbled. “You give them a gift and they throw it away.”

“I’m so sorry, Chuck. We had to flee!”

The wizard sat back and folded his arms in a huff. “And people wonder why I’m always enchanting my belongings! Raising that midget elf cost me a fortune before I got wise. You think those boxers of his are a fashion statement? NO. It’s because every time he’d start drinking, I’d find him wandering about BUCK NAKED. That’s why! Refused to buy him any more clothes. Now he wears that flimsy garment to embarrass me!” He grinned then. “Only embarrassing himself, I tell you.”

“I truly am sorry, Chuck,” I said.

“Oh, it’ll be alright,” he said. “The bag will pop up eventually, likely when you least expect it to. Though you won’t be able to do much studying until it does…but we’ll think of something.”

As I turned towards the table, I almost fell over.

“You okay?” Chuck asked.

On the table was the pitcher of water, the food…and the letter.

The cream paper had been unfolded and propped up against the pitcher.

I quickly patted the back pockets of my mägoweave.

Empty.

“Son?”

No, no, no, no…

I never pulled the letter from my back pocket; I was certain of that. I stared long at the letter before walking over and reaching out to pick it up.

Twice I hesitated, curling my fingers in, like offering one’s hand to a stray dog.

“Wendell?” Chuck said.

This is… No. I couldn’t say ‘impossible’ …because there it was, staring back at me. I snatched up the letter and flipped it over, inspecting it. There weren’t any unusual markings on it, no extra folds.

Wait a minute.

My eyes shifted from the letter to my own hands holding the paper itself. They were trembling.

When your hearts become one, so will your power.

You will speak with the elements, even the intelligence within the elements, and shape them to your will.

Then and only then can you be the hero our world requires and destroy our enemy.

Until such time, protect the seals and seek Ithari’s children. Keep them safe or they will be used against you. They will speak to your ears through your heart. Trust your heart, for you will find it at Til-Thorin.

I slumped down onto the edge of my chair, staring at the words over and over again.

“That…can’t be right,” I whispered to myself.

“What can’t be right, son?” Chuck asked.

Help me.

“Woah!” I cried out, jumping up and spinning around.

Tha-THUMP-THUMP!

“Good grief, boy, what’s going on?” Chuck gasped, jumping to his own feet. “You’re gonna give this old man a heart attack if you—”

Reactively, I snatched up the fire poker next to the hearth, gripping it with both hands. The letter crumpled under my fingers. My head bobbed up and down, peering into the shadows of the room.

“Okay,” Chuck gulped, raising his palms up defensively, “I’m good with a heart attack over a beating any day, but…”

Slowly, I squatted down, looking under my bed…then under the table.

Chuck frowned.

“Hello?” I called out softly, raising the poker higher.

Help me.

Tha-THUMP-THUMP!

“Uh, helLO,” Chuck grunted, “old man, RIGHT here.”

The plea had changed to weeping. The voice was shifting, sounding closer to panic. It tugged at my chest. “Can’t you hear that?” I said.

“All I hear is wood popping in the hearth, and you playing Mr. Coo-Coo!”

I opened the door to the apartment and walked into the narrow landing at the top of the winding steps. My ears twitched, straining. An odd noise drifted up the stairwell.

Something shifting. Moving.

Help me. He’s coming!

Tha-THUMP-THUMP!
Tha-THUMP-THUMP!

Leaving my door open, I crept step by step, down the stairwell — sliding my back against the wall as I went. Chuck, silent as a shadow, followed behind me. When I reached the bottom of the tower, I paused.

The crying had stopped.

“Where…are you?” I whispered.

“I’m…right…here,” Chuck whispered back.

“SHHH!” I hissed.

“Well, now you’re just being rude.”

Nothing.

Slapping the letter against the stone wall, I pushed my palm roughly over the surface to smooth out the wrinkles. The paper immediately straightened itself…all but the original folds fading to nothing. My eyes darted to the end of the letter.

They will speak to your ears through your heart. Trust your heart, for you will find it at Til-Thorin.

Heart.

Emotion. It was talking about emotion, right? That had to be right — you’re emotional with your heart. Aren’t you?

The base of the tower was linked by a long hall that passed through the Keep’s kitchen eventually connecting to the Great Hall. Again, I could…feel…moving.

Tha-THUMP-THUMP!
Tha-THUMP-THUMP!
Tha-THUMP-THUMP!

It felt…wrong.

Quietly leaning the poker against the base of the stairs.

My ears twitched.

The crying.

You can do this, Wendell.

“Personally, I think you’re losing it,” said Doubt.

“I didn’t ask you,” I said aloud.

“Nope,” Chuck snorted, turning to walk away. “Not playing the crazy game with you. Played it solo and it never turns out well. In fact, I’m going back to the room and pretend you’re having a sleepwalking episode.”

I watched him climb the steps and out of view.

Right. Let’s play the ‘crazy game’, then. Find the source of this voice and prove you’re NOT crazy.

“Good luck,” Doubt chuckled.

Shut it.

I followed the sound, or at least what I thought I was hearing, and tip-toed through the corridor into the kitchen.

A portly man lay fast asleep on a stool in the corner, propped up against one of the long tables. Small puffs of flour appeared as he snored heavily, one arm draped over a rolling pin. A small fire popped in the open hearth of the opposite wall. A giant black pot hung over the open flames. White foam seeped out from under the lid, dripping down the side of the container and into the fire. The flames hissed back.

I froze.

There was a dog in front of the fire. Big as a mastiff, with a sleek, black, shiny coat. Its eyes were dark and intelligent, seeming to analyze me as our eyes met. It had a powerful square head, large teeth jutting out from a strong jawline. Its ears perched atop its head, alert and attentive.

I gulped.

It watched me for a moment or two, then thought better about wasting its energy. I guess I wasn’t considered a threat. It yawned, licked its snout, and went back to sleep.

I crept quietly around the open sacks of flour, sugar and spices..inching past the cook.

The hallway branched off.

One direction led to the Great Hall, which I could see…the other ended with a wide set of steps going down. I lingered in the stairwell, staring into the darkness of the stairs.

‘You’re chasing voices, Wendell,’ warned Doubt. ‘You don’t know what’s making those sounds. It sounds like a child now, sure, but it could turn out to be something horrific that uses soothing voices to draw in its prey. THINK ABOUT IT. Something little and green, with nasty, sharp teeth, skittering around in the shadows, waiting to sink its maw into tender teenage flesh!…doesn’t that sound familiar?!’

Dax never wanted to eat me, I snorted.

‘Maybe not, but look where you are, right now beCAUSE of him!’ Doubt rebuked.

With shaking hands, I folded the letter and shoved it into my pocket.

Chuck was right, this was nuts.

“Can I help you, m’Lord?”

“AHH!” I screeched, collapsing against the wall.

A young female servant appeared ninja-appeared from the Great Hall. She frowned at my reaction, then looked past me. Without a word, she briskly walked past me, marched to the prep-table, and kicked the chunky cooks chair.

With a wail, the man flipped over with a clatter, sprawling across the floor.

“Oy!” she snapped, “Wake up, you! We have little ones to feed out there — no noddin’ off!!”

The cook gave her a nasty look, but got up without a word.

Satisfied, she turned back to me. “Need anything, dear? Anything at all?” She smiled daintily, waiting.

I gave a last glance down the stairwell and shook my head. “Uhh. No,” I said meekly. “I’m…fine, thank you. Just…going to bed.” I gave both of the servants an awkward smile and retreated from the room.

My feet took on a life of their own, bounding back up the tower, two steps at a time. When I reached my chamber, I slid through the doorway, closed the door, and rested my forehead against the wood.

“This is nuts,” I said aloud, clenching my eyes tight.

“Bonkers,…if…ask me,” Chuck mumbled, his mouth full of food. He swallowed. “First you get chosen by mistake, then you’re given a job you’re unlikely to succeed in. THEN you’re left to fend for yourself.”

I banged my head against the door.

“Not to mention getting two kids killed because you didn’t know how to use the ultimate power. THAT certainly wouldn’t feel encouraging.”

My legs suddenly felt as weak as a pile of leaves, threatening to crumple beneath me and send me tumbling to the ground.

“…and now voices are talking to me,” I mumbled.

“Like I said,” Chuck snorted, “…bonkers.”

Help me.

The voice permeated through my skin and the surrounding room.

“Mahan’s pink panties, son,” Chuck snickered, “what are you doing?”

I ignored his taunt and continued to walk in my tight circle around the armchair. “Something's not right!” I snapped.

Chuck wandered over to the armchair, waited for me to pass, then took the spot for himself. “I couldn’t agree with you more…but I assure you, they have medication for just about anything.”

“No,” I glared, “The storm out there, Til-Thorin, my dreams — this whole situation of being here…it's bothering me. I feel it in my gut. Something is happening that we should be seeing. I just don’t know what it is!”

The wizard looked at me nervously. “Son, you need to calm down.”

“Calm down?!” I gasped. “How on earth can I calm down?”

“You’re not on Earth, my boy,” Chuck corrected me gently.

“EXACTLY!” I exploded. “I shouldn’t even BE here! This is so far over my head and I can’t piece this puzzle together, Chuck!!” My voice cracked with the last sentence. The frustration shifted to pleading, and one of my eyes began to twitch. “I’m not sure what to…”

Chuck opened his mouth, but I pulled the letter from my pocket and waved it in his face. “And then there’s this!” Shoving the paper into Chuck's hands, I slumped down onto the edge of the cot and let my head fall into my hands.

“I’m sorry, my boy,” Chuck said softly, “but only the hero can read this—you know that.”

I moaned.

Help me. PLEASE.

With a yelp, I jumped from the bed and grabbed the sleeve of Chuck's robe. My movement was so sudden and sporadic I nearly him AND the armchair over backwards. Chuck’s hands went up to protect his face.

Catching the chair, I lowered it and Chuck back to the floor, and smoothed out the wrinkles of his sleeves. “Do you ever hear…voices?” I said. The question sounded more like a whimper when it came out. “Something only you can hear?”

The wizard stiffened upright and looked over both shoulders like a mad dog chasing his own tail. “What have you heard!?” He leaned in close and waved an index finger in my face. “You can’t prove anything, I tell you. Not a blooming thing!”

I snapped upright, throwing my hands into the air. “GAHHHH! Chuck…I’m talking about me,” I said. “Me! Ok?”

The wizard rolled his eyes. “Oh,” he said casually and then motioned me to come closer. The moment I was in range, he grabbed my head and tilted it to the side. Chuck tugged on my earlobe, shining a small flashlight into my ear canal. “What you picking up? Weather channel? Stats on the races, maybe? If it’s the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, I’m not interested.”

I slapped his hands away. “No! That’s not….what? No!” I sighed heavily and rubbed my temples again. The room was getting so hot. It took constant effort just to take in a breath.

The weeping grew louder.

PLEASE.

“I’m hearing a child’s voice, crying,” I blurted out. “Calling for help.” I looked down at the crinkled letter in Chuck's hands. “Something's…coming. I don’t know what, or when, or how…,” I choked and swallowed with a cough. “I just have this horrible feeling that I’m running out of time.”

Chuck's calm, knowing eyes accompanied the kind, supportive smile. “Then let’s figure this out, shall we?” He patted the chair next to him.

I nodded and sat down.

“We already know what’s coming,” he said, without a hint of sarcasm. “We just have to look outside.”

I shook my head. “That’s the first thing I thought, too, but my gut says ‘no’.”

“You’re…gut?” The wizard frowned, but the look of resolve on my face was unmistakable. He tossed the letter onto the table and sat back. “Fine. Let’s go with that. Your gut.”

“…and I don’t think that army is here for King Robert…or to invade the Kingdom.” My hand slowly reached out — my fingers clawing the letter up under my palm. I made a tight fist and dragged it off the table.

“Oh, now you’re just being silly,” the wizard dismissed, “Of course they are! Thule’s always hated Bobby boy ruining his evil-doer plans. There have to be over a thousand vallen out there, Wendell…and they have Täuku mägo. This is no joking mat…”

“Then why send forces south?” I blurted.

The crazed look conquered my face once more and my voice trembled.

“Why split your forces at all, if invasion is the real goal?” I gritted my teeth. “I’m not saying I’m right…what would I know? I’m just some alien kid. But it doesn’t make sense, Chuck. Not to me, anyway. The women and children forced back to Til-Thorin proved there’s nowhere for the people to flee. So causing a panic isn’t their strategy either. We’re boxed in. For a reason.”

I gasped for air.

The lines around Chuck’s eyes and forehead deepened. He glanced at the letter in my hand. “Seriously, you have got to slow down. You’re starting to sound like Olivia Jane Ray.”

I stared back in confusion. “Who?!?”

Chuck sighed deeply, recalling a fond past. “Now there was a high-strung sweetie. Cute as a button, sharp as a razor,” he smiled widely, “but when her mind got going, when she panicked, her mouth moved faster than a gnome strapped to a rocket-launcher! That girl could spit out a whole conversation before you could say oh-my-goodness…” He laughed. “No matter how fast she talked, you could understand every word the girl said.” He shrugged. “Course, she was so adorable. You didn’t always care if you did. Loved that about her.” He looked up at me and frowned. “But you don’t make any sense at all!”

“Chuuuuuck,” I moaned.

“Those dark rings under your eyes are telling me you need rest, son.”

I ignored him. “Where are the seals hidden?”

Chuck coughed, saliva going down the wrong pipe. “Seals?…as in…the Demoni Vankil seals?”

I continued to stare. The twitching in my eye ceased.

“Only the last hero knows where the pieces are,” Chuck confessed, his frown deepening into a scowl. “Why?”

“That’s why the army is here, Chuck. I think one of the seals is here, in the Keep.”

The color drained from the wizard's face. “Woah, woah, WOAH! Time OUT!” he shouted, standing up and waving his arms about. “If that’s true — we have problems way bigger than…,” he spun around, pointing at me. “Wait, how would you know something like that?”

We both looked down at the crinkled letter gripped tightly in my hands.

“Why are you gripping that?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I said.

“Read it.”

“But I already know what it says,” I said.

“Read it to me, then.”

“Why?” I asked.

Chuck lowered his head so the thick white of his eyebrows overshadowed his pupils. “Because,” he said in a slow, deliberate tone, “I was around the last time Ithari chose a host…and I know for a fact that you’re not the only one using that body. So why are you gripping that letter?”

I sat upright. My free hand scratched the gem through the tunic.

Huh.

When I looked back up at the wizard, I found a softer expression staring back.

Chuck pointed at the letter.

I unfolded the paper and scanned over it.

My mouth dropped open as I came to the signature.

Through Ithari, my heart is always with you.

Your Father.

P.S. …had any dreams lately?

In the distance, a horn blew.

<— Read Previous Chapter | Read Next Chapter —>

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Author Notes

It’s always been a challenge to write the scenes about loss, and dealing with that loss.

The guilt felt when something bad happens in a person’s life and we accept the blame,…even when many times, we had nothing to do with the actual event.

Yet the perceptions of others, whether true, skewed, or false, affects us.

…always.

Jaime

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