23. Hiram
“I told you to SHUT UP!” Evan growled, and he kicked me in the thigh. “My little brother just took an arrow for YOU."
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 and Evan wake to an invading army attacking the blacksmith’s small village. Our hero and Evan engage in the conflict to save Miriam, Hiram and Livi…escaping by horseback. An arrow pierces Hiram’s back in the escape.
<— Read Previous Chapter | Read Next Chapter —>
When something bad happens to the ones you love, don’t question it. Focus. You’ll have ample time for prayers and doubts AFTER you stop the bleeding.
The morning sun pierced the fragile clouds, pushing its warm glow between the trees. The heavy smoke from the village had flooded the valley, masking its location.
“They’ll be coming soon,” I stressed. Keeping a firm hold on the mare, I stroked her neck and watched the path behind us.
“Shut your mouth,” snapped Evan. He kneeled over Hiram, still cradling his arm from a dislocated shoulder. He looked tenderly at his mother as she sat on the ground, stroking the head of her little boy. “What can I do?” he whispered.
Tears mixed with dirt and soot, leaving dark streaks down Miriam’s cheeks. She blinked, as if waking up. Her small, nimble fingers tore at the gray cloth of Hiram’s tunic, revealing the wound. The arrow had struck deep — the shaft jutting out next to his spine. The boy’s breathing was shallow. His rib cage shuddered with each breath.
“We need to remove the arrow,” she said firmly. She looked over at the mare, then to the stallion. “Bring me my pouches.”
“I’ll get them,” I said.
“We need to set your shoulder, Evan,” Miriam stressed. “I’ll need your help and you aren’t any use to us with a lame arm.”
Evan nodded silently.
I handed the bags to Miriam. “Here.”
With a deft calmness, she untied the leather straps and fished through the contents until she produced a tiny jar and a small, folded, stained piece of cloth. She looked around her, squinting. “I need dandelion root.”
Evan scrambled to his feet and worked his way through the trees, weaving in and out. He panicked, “There aren’t any left!”
“Keep looking,” his mother encouraged him, “The frost is not come yet — they’re still in bloom.”
I kneeled next to Miriam. “We need to get off the main path,” I whispered. Though the screaming had stopped, I could still hear barking, howling, and faint laughing from the village below. “It won’t be long before they come up here.” I looked at her pleadingly. “They’ll follow the path. They’ll track us down. Track everyone down.”
“I told you to SHUT UP!” Evan growled, and he kicked me in the thigh. “My little brother just took an arrow for YOU. So I don’t want to hear another word from your mouth until he’s cared for!”
It’s not that I was trying to be difficult. What was I supposed to say? Evan wasn’t wrong about the arrow, though I’m sure the creature was aiming at anyone he could hit as we rode away.
Hiram flinched as his mother inspected the point of entry with her fingers.
Nothing I say is going to be right, I realized. Evan has every right to be angry. We go when we can go.
Miriam folded the torn piece of cloth and motioned for me to stay close. “When I pull the shaft from him, you place this on the wound and push.” She grabbed my hand and applied pressure as an example. “Grab his shoulder with your other hand and do not let go of him, or release that pressure, until I tell you to. Do you understand?”
“Why him?” Evan glared at me. “This is all his fault!”
“That’s ENOUGH,” she snapped. Miriam allowed her eyes to roll upward without lifting her head. The effect was a sobering scowl that her son backed away from. “You’re in no condition to help me, Evan. Stop blaming, stop thinking, and give me those roots!”
Evan opened his palm. Tiny green leaves rolled over his fingers, hints of yellow peeking out from the petals.
Picking up a small stick near her knee, Miriam slid it between her son’s teeth. “Bite down, Hiram,” she whispered and kissed his forehead.
Hiram’s pale lips quivered..
Miriam looked up at me and took a deep breath. “Ready?”
My hands were already clammy. I stared at Hiram. Sweat trickled down the slope of his nose and dropped to the ground. His lips were a powdered blue.
“No, you’re not ready,” Doubt whispered, but not unkindly.
I nodded anyway.
Putting the roots in her mouth, Miriam chewed vigorously, positioning her hand over the arrow. With a steady hand, she pulled the shaft from Hiram’s back.
Blood gushed from the wound. Hiram shuddered, his hands gripping the end of his mother’s blouse, teeth sinking through the wood. Then, all at once, he went limp.
As instructed, I gripped Hiram’s shoulder tight and applied the folded bandage to the wound. But the blood kept coming. I mean, a lot. It seeped through the cloth, pushed up between my fingers. The deep red pooled in the creases of my hand and dripped over my thumb.
“Uh, Miriam?” I stammered, not knowing what to do. There was so much blood!
She tore another piece from her shawl, quickly folded it and added it on top of the soaked one. She replaced my hand, pushing firmly to remind me how to do it. Then she tore a third piece, much larger than the other two, and folded it. Pulling the cork from the jar, Miriam doused the center of the cloth. There was a bitter, earthy scent to the liquid that made my nose scrunch. Unfolding the stained cloth, she took a pinch of a bright red powder and sprinkled it in the center of the moist cloth. Lastly, she held the cloth up to her mouth and spit out the roots.
“Roll him onto his belly,” she said hastily.
Evan and I lowered Hiram onto his stomach.
He moaned.
“It’ll be alright,” Miriam whispered. She lifted my hand from the wound. “Here.” Quickly adding the concoction directly to the punctured skin, she guided my hand back to the wound.
It was surprising to see her smile at me. “You’re doing fine,” she said. “Just hold it there until I can wrap it up.”
She tore the remaining shawl into long strips.
The bushes rustled behind us.
Evan jumped to his feet and ran to the horses. Grabbing the war hammer in his good hand, he shuffled backwards, positioning himself between his family and the trees.
“It’s us!” came a gruff voice. An older man, with gray hair, broad shoulders and a round stomach, pushed through the shrubs. He held both his hands up as he lumbered into the clearing, accompanied by three other men and…
“Livi!” Evan cried. Dropping the hammer, the blacksmith dashed to her side, dropped to his knees, and threw his good arm around her. He hugged her tightly. “You’re safe,” he breathed gratefully.
“I think you lost something, Miriam,” said the burly man. He wore a sword at his hip and a short bow over his shoulder. The other men remained silent, though they started at Hiram. “Not a time to be playing hide and seek.”
Miriam bowed her head ever so slightly. “Thank you, Emeric.”
His serious expression didn’t change, but he nodded in return. “Have you seen where our people fled?” he asked.
“They fled in every direction,” Evan said. “Though most ran through the west forest. I can only imagine they’re escaping to Haden.” His forehead crinkled. “Where…were you, during the fight for the village?” Evan glanced between the men suspiciously.
Emeric met Miriam’s gaze, but the others avoided any eye contact. “That fat mayor of ours led us away,” he cursed.
I could see the anger on their faces. The shame.
“We had fair warning before the enemy arrived,” Emeric said. “Shane brought us word. So the mayor had this bright idea to take the men folk and lead an armed group into the forest to ambush the enemy directly. We all figured it was better to meet the enemy on our terms and keep them from our women and children. But after a speedy march, that fat excuse for a man had no intention of saving our village. He led us out so we could save his skin!” Emeric paused, gritting his teeth in frustration and anger. His nostrils flared. “Because of him, we abandoned our wives and our children.”
Evan stood upright, his arm wrapped around Livi’s shoulder. “So where’s Shane now?”
Emeric smiled. “Where he belongs.”
Miriam frowned, “Emeric.”
One of the men stepped forward, unabashed. “We didn’t kill’im, if that’s what yer implyin’—though I think he wished we’ad b’now. Tied the bastard to a tree, we did. Make sure it was close enough ta town, that’r green friends’ll find’m soon ‘nough.” The shadows of the trees produced a sinister look on his grin. “Hopefully, they’ll be hungry after a village raid, eh?”
“That’s murder,” Miriam gasped.
Emeric shook his head, his jaw set. “That’s the natural consequence for letting women and children suffer and die.”
I felt nauseous listening to the conversation. How could they be so cold? But my mind flashed with images of children running and screaming. Mothers fleeing with infants in their arms. Men taken from their families. They could not defend their loved ones like they wanted to. How many needlessly died because of the selfish decisions of another? Men willing to sacrifice themselves for their families…denied. Lied to. Betrayed.
Honestly, I had a hard time feeling much empathy for the mayor’s plight. Then again, I wouldn’t wish the fate of being eaten on anyone.
“Well, you’re just in time, Emeric,” said Miriam. “I need your help.”
“We’re on our way to find our families,” he answered.
“Won’t take but a moment.” She motioned to Evan. “I need a powerful man to hold this one down.”
Emeric smiled. “Your boy needing a paddle on the backside?”
Miriam laughed. “Most likely, but that’s beside the point. I need to set his shoulder.”
A loud howl echoed through the smoke and haze of the village below.
“Then we better make it fast,” Emeric hissed.
Miriam position them all. The large farmer sat up against a tree. She placed Evan on the ground in front of him. Emeric wrapped his massive arms around the blacksmith’s chest. Using both hands, Miriam gripped her son’s thick wrist and braced herself by placing her tiny foot near Evan’s collarbone.
“On the count of three,” she said.
Evan grabbed a stick and quickly put it between his teeth.
“One,” she started counting, then arched her back and pulled with all her strength.
There was a loud pop, and the wood fell from Evans’ mouth.
“RAAAHHHHHH!”
Miriam gently lowered his arm down to his lap. “There. A little rest and that should heal nicely.”
Emeric chuckled. “I hate to admit it, Miriam, but I always wanted to hear your kid scream in pain.”
The howl echoed again. Much closer this time.
“Time to go,” said Emeric, quickly getting to his feet. “We’ll work our way to the next village. If the gods favor us, we’ll find our people along the way.”
Miriam quickly secured the bandage strips around Hiram’s chest. “I hope you find your families, Emeric.”
The farmer looked at her, puzzled. “You’re not coming?”
She shook her head. “Our young friend here,” casually pointing at me, “has to get to Til-Thorin.”
Emeric looked at his companions. A couple shook their heads disapprovingly. “Suit yourselves. Though I believe you’re on a fool’s errand, if you ask me.”
Evan got to his feet, rubbing his shoulder. “That makes two of us.”
Miriam ignored them both. “Evan, take Hiram with you. You’re the strongest, and the best rider. Livi can ride behind you.”
Without argument, Emeric and another lifted Hiram onto the stallion. Sweat beaded and rolled across the boy’s forehead. He moaned as they sat him upright, but alert enough to reach out and loop his fingers through the black mane of the stallion. Evan snatched up his war hammer and used a stump to mount behind his brother.
“Good luck to you in finding your loved ones, Emeric,” said Evan, his expression sober. “I mean that.”
For a moment, the farmer stared up at the blacksmith. “Did you fight those creatures?” he said, almost regrettably.
“We both did,” Evan replied, giving a brief glance over in my direction. “As did Gunthar and Darrick.”
Emeric rubbed King’s muzzle. “Then at least there were four men there to do their duty.” There was a sadness in his face. Regret.
Without another word, the farmer and his companions turned around and vanished beyond the treeline.
I lead the mare to the stump and climbed onto her back. Miriam used the stump to hop up behind me.
“You know you don’t have to go with me,” I said. “Not if your village is going west. But,” I added, “I have a feeling you’ll be safest coming with me.”
“Well listen to him,” muttered Evan, mockingly. “Thinks he’s a hero now, does he?”
I kept my mouth shut and prodded the mare forward.
As I looked behind us, towards the village, I caught Miriam smiling.
We used the advantage of the steeds to put as much distance between us and the village as possible. It wasn’t long before I noticed the clear value of having Evan and his family accompany me. He was a hunter. Both he and Miriam knew these mountains. I would have gotten lost within the first two hours.
Even after riding all morning, we could still see the haze of smoke over the horizon. My mind kept bringing up images of burning homes and screaming people. Flashes of women running through the smoke, children crying for someone to help them. I hadn’t said anything to Evan or to his family the entire ride.
Miriam had tried, many times, to start a conversation. She wanted to know more about me — where I was from — asking questions as if I’d been born in this world and lived here all my life.
Not knowing how to deflect the conversation, I…refused to reply.
What could I say?
I glanced over at Miriam, who was tending to the mare, gently stroking its neck and speaking softly to the beast.
What could I say to her without exposing myself more than I already have? Then again, maybe this could be an exchange of information? How does she know so much about me? My hand absentmindedly went to my chest. My fingers traced the hard ridges of the gem under my shirt.
What did she see? Did she actually see…anything? Does this become visible when I’m unconscious?
The possibilities worried me.
Now, I knew coming to this world had risk and danger, but I never imagined being separated from my party.
Where are you guys? Did you make it to the Keep ok? Is Chuck safe and sound? I’m one of those people who, when they lack the information, their imagination breeds possibilities of outcome. Tragic things that weigh heavily upon my mind, and it was crushing my heart.
I hope you got him help in time, Dax.
Each question pricked my mind with doubt and anxiety. The biggest question…the one that plagued me and nearly suffocated me…wouldn’t let go.
Why did you guys leave me?
Now here I was, with people I barely knew, and the only comfort was in a name. Evan. He wasn’t Evan Matthews, that was for sure, but I still took comfort in similar qualities. This Evan was tall and broad, with dirty blonde hair, almost brown. Every move he made was deliberate, bold and full of energy, as if made from the very metal he shaped. Even though I didn’t know what I was doing, I still felt responsible for Evan and his family.
There seemed to be a permanent scowl tattooed on the blacksmith’s face.
He’s worried.
I think he’s out of his element, just as much as I’m out of mine.
That, of course, made the situation even more stressful. I didn’t know what was going to happen once we got to Til-Thorin, or whether we would even make it to the Keep safely. There was no telling where the enemy was, what they were doing, or if they were looking for me. For a moment, I considered telling Miriam about that possibility, then thought better of it.
It’s likely the invading army is wiping out whomever they find. The only logical conclusion I could come to was, the closer we got to Til-Thorin, the more likely it would be that we’d run across the enemy’s path.
I moaned. Then what?
“Wendell?” Miriam called out. “Would you help me for a moment?”
I quickly stood up and brushed myself off. “Sure.”
Evan had left Hiram sleeping on the large stallion. The animal’s body warmth had kept the boy from shivering, and he seemed comfortably draped over the wide shoulders.
“I’d like to lie Hiram down and check his bandages,” she said.
Evan walked over, lightly pushing me aside. “I’ve got it.”
“No,” Miriam said firmly. “I would like Wendell to help me.”
The young blacksmith glared at me, huffed, and marched away. I wasn’t sure what was going on, and I looked at Miriam, confused.
“Please, just help me get him down. I’ll take his legs, you support his shoulders,” she said.
We laid Hiram on the grass, in the sunlight. His light shivering quickly subsided. Livi had silently perched herself on a small, dead tree nearby. She let her bare feet hang inches above the dirt and grass, staring at her brother as their mother checked the bandages.
“Well,” Miriam breathed, “at least the bleeding has stopped.” She looked up at me, her smile weak but sincere. “I appreciate your help. It makes a difference.”
How could I make any difference? I thought to myself. All that came out was, “I haven’t done anything.”
Miriam’s eyes caught the shifting emotions of the smiley face on my T-shirt. Neither she, Evan, or Hiram had mentioned my shirt, and I wondered if it had caught their attention at any point? Especially while I was sleeping.
Did it move about while I was sleeping? Considering some dreams I’d had since I’d arrived, THAT could be embarrassing.
She watched it, fascinated for several moments. “It’s your presence.”
The smiley face froze in place as I looked at her, utterly confused. “My presence?”
Miriam nodded, re-wrapping the dirty bandages around Hiram’s chest with a new set of not-as-dirty bandages. She gave a fleeting glance in Evan’s direction, then leaned closer. “The gem. It helps him. Hiram.”
Tha-THUMP-Thump.
Hiram winced as his mother’s fingers pushed the bandages firmly over the wound on his back.
“Help me here,” she said, her hands steadying her son’s shoulders. Miriam reached out and took one of my hands and guided it to the wound. “Just place your hand right here. That’s it, right there.” She looked up, a little more life in her smile. “Just your presence, Wendell, has a healing effect.” Her head wobbled from side to side. “Or rather, Ithari’s presence has a healing effect. And Hiram needs all the help he can get.”
“Wait. Is that a power of hers?” I asked.
“Hers?”
“The Ithari. I’m trying to figure out what she can…,” but I stopped short, clamping my lips together.
Miriam smiled. “So you are the Gnolaum.”
“There’s that word again,” I gasped. “Okay, fine, I have a gem in my chest…which you well know.” I glared at her, but it quickly became a smirk. “I’ll deny it if anyone else says anything. Does Evan and Hiram know?”
She shook her head.
“She…heals other people around me?” I asked quietly.
Miriam nodded, adjusting Hiram’s shoulder to wipe some of the dried blood. “She is a being of light. A light that gives life, Wendell. All the records of my people describe the Gnolaums as skilled healers. Not just of people, but animals and nature herself. The Gem comes from Pääjumä. From his world, so of course it will gift life to all things around it.
“Ohhhhh,” I smiled. “THAT makes sense.” Woman was making zero sense to me. She finished wrapping her son’s wound and stood up. As she passed, she gave my shoulder a little squeeze.
Livi just sat there, now staring at me.
Again.
Creepy kid.
I smiled at her, but her expression didn’t change. It made me wonder what’s wrong with her, because she understands everyone just fine. I tried smiling at her again, this time holding my expression and then widening it into a goofy grin. Livi didn’t smile back, but I did get her to raise one of her eyebrows.
Gotcha.
“But this is stupid!” Evan blurted out. “Everyone we know is traveling east.” Evan and his mother were standing between the horses, Miriam speaking in quieter tones.
I tried not to stare, but it was difficult not to with the blacksmith’s outbursts. They were talking about me, of course. Now I knew an underlying reason for Miriam to stay with me. The young blacksmith shifted his weight from foot to foot, antsy and irritated. He rotated his wounded shoulder, rubbing out the soreness with his good hand.
“But we know nothing about him, mother!”
“I would appreciate it,” she responded calmly, “if you would keep your voice down and not get so excited.” She stepped forward and placed her hand on Evan’s chest. “That young man provided us with comfort through the winter, sharing his gold AND may I remind you — that he accompanied you — into the village, into the fire, into the danger.”
Evan’s face looked as hot as a forge. The lines on his forehead crinkled into lightning bolts, shooting down between his brows. “Danger that HE brought upon us!”
“How can you even say that?” his mother rebuked. “You do not know of the circumstances that brought him here. Do you?”
“No, but I…”
She poked her son in the chest. “Don’t know a thing about him!”
The outburst startled Evan. He took a step backwards into the stallion. The horse shifted away from him, but his mother pressed forward.
“You, young man, need to stop making assumptions and start using your heart! Wendell has done nothing but try to help us, and even left the village when you shunned him…”
Well, THAT made things increasingly uncomfortable. Even averting my eyes, trying to ignore them, made little difference at this point. They talked so loud, I couldn’t help but cringe.
“We are going to Til-Thorin,” she stated flatly. “It is the safest place for us.” She looked back and pointed at me, “and it is where HE needs to go ANYway.” She leaned forward and gently poked her son’s chest once more. “So, until you marry and officially take your place at the head of this family, it is I who decide where we go and what we do, not you.”
Oh. Yeah. That was bad. I didn’t dare look up. Didn’t want to have anything to do with a family quarrel, so I concentrated on the boy lying in front of me. Hiram’s breathing had eased, thankfully, and his body relaxed in the warm rays of the late morning sun.
It was strange though…
When I placed a hand on his shoulder, or arm, or ANYwhere actually…Hiram’s breathing eased. In and out, as smooth as could be. When I lifted my hand off him, though, his breathing became labored again.
Interesting.
There was no reason to stick around and listen, so I moved aside, allowing the direct sunlight to warm Hiram, then myself.
We’d stopped at a small grove of trees to conceal the horses from any unexpected eyes that might look for us. I walked over to the far side of the grove, weaving through the trees until I was out of sight. The temperature quickly changed in the shade, but it didn’t bother me. A large moss covered rock looked like it had pushed its way out of the ground, nestled against a gnarled old tree. I rested myself on the stone and leaned against the bark.
The peace and quiet eased my mind, and I slipped my fingers into the pockets of my jeans as I leaned back. The soft cloth of the coin pouch rubbed against the tip of my fingers.
Then I remembered.
Leaning forward, I reached into my back pocket. The edge of the letter met my fingers, and I pulled it free. There wasn’t a grain of dirt, not a soil mark, not even discoloration on the surface of the paper. My fingers ran over the center crease of the letter and I smirked.
Almost forgot about you.
Unfolding the paper, I held it up to my face, letting my eyes drift over the words. Something in me wanted to imagine what the hero was feeling, where he might’ve been and what might have been going on around him, when he wrote the words I was staring at. Every curve, every hesitation, showed in the ink. Even the small hints of faded finger marks spoke volumes of emotion in the document.
Be patient with others, my son, for few will understand the path you will be forced to walk.
You have no idea. The problem is, I didn’t even understand the path I’m being forced to walk! I shook my head. It’s not that I don’t mind doing something hard…well, some of the time…but can’t I at least understand what it is that’s expected of me?!
Trust no one but the Gem. Through her, you will learn the truth of all things. This is your only true protection. Listen to that inner voice that whispers to you.
That just made me laugh. What an understatement! No one understands me. Now I’m here, all alone, not sure what to do next and…I hesitated.
WHAT inner voice?
I talk and wait for Ithari to say something, ANYthing…but I get nothing!
…nothing at all.
I shook my head. This is stupid. I’m not the one the letter was addressed to. I’m the fill in, not the main event.
Not your own, but that voice which prompts you to do only what is right, what is true and just. Ithari cannot lie and she will not falter, so long as you serve her with a pure heart.
“Pure heart?” I scoffed out loud. “Seriously.”
I didn’t know anyone with a pure heart, least of all myself. No one’s perfect. I didn’t grow up in a monastery. I grew up in a world with gangs, music videos, pornography, and skimpily clad women next to every checkout counter. Pure heart? I clenched my eyes tight. If the letter had said ‘not completely corrupt heart’, or ‘trying really hard to be decent heart’, THEN I could see some value in this.
Some hope.
Not that I had sought bad things. No, I loved my mother and tried to honor my father. I always tried to treat girls with respect because they were someone’s daughter and eventually…would be someone’s mother.
I scoffed again.
This is stupid. No one thinks like me. This letter wasn’t going to help me with Ithari — because I’m not that guy.
I looked at the words again. Eyes lingering.
As you love her, protect her, honor her…and sacrifice for others, her abilities will unfold unto you.
When your hearts become one, so will your power.
“But you chose me, Ithari,” I whispered. I pulled at my collar and whispered again. “Silmä inakmään.” With a shimmer, Ithari came into view. Even in the shadows of this shirt, she was beautiful. Perfect. There was something…comforting about seeing the hero gem. Strange as this may sound, I didn’t feel so…alone. Maybe that was the point?
“You said I was acceptable,” I said out loud. I looked up into the trees, the yellow and orange leaves glowing in the light. “So maybe you’re the perfect one, not me. Maybe it’s being united that makes me perfect?”
Tha-THUMP-THUMP!
I froze. Tingling from the back of my head, down my spine and into my limbs, the power of Ithari surged. I could feel it through my chest, my heart and mind. Calming me. Expanding my mind.
I gripped the letter tightly in a fist and whispered, “Is that…you?”
Tha-THUMP-THUMP!
Again, the calm, warm feeling tingled through my body.
I couldn’t help it. My hands shook with excitement.
“There you are,” grumbled Evan.
It startled me and immediately, the calm feeling vanished…anxiety setting in.
No, no, no! I was just…
“If we’re trying to stay concealed, it’s not the brightest idea to go wondering off.”
I quickly folded the letter and slid it back into my pocket as I stood up. “Sorry. Wasn’t thinking.”
Evan grabbed me roughly by the arm, holding me fast. “No, you weren’t, which is why I wanted a word with you,” he glared. “Alone.”
I yanked my arm away and stepped back, creating space between us. The blacksmith was much bigger than my best friend back on Earth. Not taller so much as muscular. Something a hard life of physical labor would surely develop. “What do you want?” I said matter-of-fact.
“To know what you’re playing at,” Evan replied. “If the creatures that destroyed my village, my home, are on their way to Til-Thorin, then why are we traveling there? Why not flee? There are many closer villages with men who can fight better than the old farmers from my valley. We could even take the long western path and work our way into Andilain through the desert. My father told me about it. Why put us at more risk?”
I bit my bottom lip to keep from snapping back. Holding the blacksmith’s gaze, I measured my words. “Because I’m not trying to avoid the enemy, Evan. I’m trying to beat them to the Keep.” He looked at me strangely, but I ignored it. “I came with King Robert and several others, including the Evolu, and I was separated from them.”
Evan laughed. “You? Came with the King? How stupid do you think I am?”
I folded my arms. “My opinion of that is growing as we speak.”
The blacksmith made a fist and shuffled forward, just as Livi wandered into the clearing.
Evan stopped.
She stared at her brother blankly.
“Then we need to get started,” Evan grumbled. “I traveled with my father to Woodside for years, so I know the paths to get there at least. Most are hunting trails, but they’ll cut a lot of time. We can ride along most of them, lead the horses along others — but I don’t want Hiram to have to walk.”
My expression softened, “I can support that.”
Evan gave me a near snarl, then kicked something leaning against the moss-covered rock at me.
My enchanted school bag flopped at my feet.
Well I’ll be…
“Don’t be leaving traces of us being here!” Evan looked from me to his little sister, holding out his hand. “Come on, Livi.”
The child didn’t move.
Reaching down and grabbing her hand, Evan started to pull her along, but she wiggled free and backed away.
His cheeks flushed, the muscles in his jaw bulging.
“Fine,” he whispered poignantly…and marched back towards the horses.
A knot formed in my stomach. There had to be more to him than what I was seeing. We fought a Vallen soldier together. Then it dawned on me.
Jess.
A small hand slip into mine, grasping my index and middle finger tightly. When I looked down, Livi stood next to me, watching her big brother march through the trees.
“I sure hope my friends are having more luck than we are,” I whispered out loud.
Livi lifted my enchanted school bag up to me…and grinned.
<— Read Previous Chapter | Read Next Chapter —>
Author Notes
Ohhhh, I sure hope this audio worked out okay…I did it with a horrible cold, which was affecting my voice. That get’s hard to do when you’re reading emotional parts.
Sadness, anger…not to mention a handful of various characters at the same time.
Hope you enjoyed it.
…and Hyrum, let me know if it was loud enough for you. The cold affected my hearing a bit and I’m not sure. =)
Jaime
I'm very curious about the girl. Maybe she has some of her mother's gifts. I keep wanting Wendell to come into his own, but it is good the way he's learning slowly. At least he has his books again!