Aerenden: The Child Returns (Ærenden) (11 page)

“I’ll
try my best to do this without hurting you,” he said and rolled up her pant
leg. “I found an ice bush. It should help with the swelling, but the salve has
to be rubbed in to work and I’m afraid that won’t be pleasant at first.”
Picking up the leaf, he snapped it in half. It oozed a pale yellow gel. “Are
you ready?”

“As
ready as I can be.”

He
squeezed some of the gel into the palm of his hand, and then spread a thin
layer of it onto her skin, covering her leg from her foot to halfway up her
calf. He rubbed, his pressure light at first, but then he increased it,
kneading her muscles with steady fingers. The pain ran up her leg as a stream
of fire. To keep from screaming, she curled her fingers into her palms.

“It
should start working soon,” he said and a moment later, she understood what he
meant. Her skin tingled and then cooled, almost as if he had applied ice to it.
She uncurled her fingers from her palms. He continued to massage her leg, but
she felt numbed to it now. She relaxed against the wall.

“How
did you know I was in pain?” she asked. “I thought you said you couldn’t sense
emotions.”

“It’s
complicated.”

“Everything
here seems to be,” she responded and smiled when he glanced up at her. “Try
me.”

He
nodded. “I think it’s best to start from the beginning. As I mentioned before,
I’ve trained my whole life to be a Guardian, but there’s a big difference
between learning about it and doing it.” He picked up the leaf. After squeezing
more gel into his hands, he continued massaging. “Before Guardians receive their
first charges, they’re given a co-duty, taking over with experienced Guardians
for a year. You’d know it as apprenticing. It allows Guardians to benefit from
the knowledge of their mentors and it also gives less experienced Guardians the
chance to practice things they may have forgotten from their studies.” He
stilled his hands and looked up at her. “Does that feel better?”

“You
can’t tell?”

“My
ability to read emotions is limited. It’s not as fine-tuned as yours. I can
sense your pain when it’s strong, but I can’t tell how bad it is. Is it
better?”

“Yes.”

He
reached for the cloth bandage and wrapped her ankle again. “Please don’t think
I lied to you,” he said. “I forgot I could read emotions. It’s one of a dozen
smaller Guardian powers. It stems from my sensing abilities. I learned about it
ten years ago in school. This morning is the first time I’ve felt it.” He
tucked the end of the bandage under itself and pulled down her pant leg. “That
will help for now, but the ice bush isn’t as effective as jicab. You won’t be
able to walk on it. We’ll go back to moving in tandem, but I want to stay here
until the rain subsides some. Visibility is bad.”

Meaghan
hated the idea of waiting, but nodded, deferring to his judgment. He picked up
the blanket again, drying his hands and she continued their conversation. “I’m
confused. How could you forget you can read emotions? Even if you can’t read
the degree of an emotion like I can, you’ve been around enough people to use
the power on a regular basis.”

“A
Guardian can’t read everyone’s emotions,” he told her, “only the emotions of
the person he or she protects. And even then, only certain emotions.”

“So
you can only read my emotions?” she asked. He nodded. “But you said you’d never
used the power before. Weren’t you able to read the emotions of the other
person you protected?”

“What
other person?”

“Your
internship charge.” He refused to meet her gaze and she frowned. “Nick, what
aren’t you telling me?”

“I’ve
never had a charge before.”

Dropping
the blanket, he rose to his feet, then picked up his sweater and put it back
on. Although it was still wet, he did not appear to notice. Leaning against the
wall at the entrance of the cave, he stared at the horizon. Several minutes
passed before he spoke again.

“This
isn’t how we planned things for you,” he told her, though he still faced the
rain. “Once it was time to transfer your guardianship, Aunt Viv and I intended
to take more than a year to do it. Because she raised you, she knew you better
than most Guardians know their charges and she wanted to pass her knowledge on
to me. We thought it made more sense than performing a co-duty so I was never
assigned one.” He turned his head. His eyes met hers. “I’m your Guardian now
because I was the closest living Guardian to you when Vivian died.”

“It
transitioned to you automatically,” Meaghan realized.

Nick
nodded. “I’m sorry. I still had a lot to learn, but I never had the chance. ”

Meaghan
did not say anything as she studied his face. His brows drew together, forming
lines in his forehead. His mouth turned down at the corners, grim and set. His
eyes appeared strained and shadowed. She did not need access to her power to
understand what emotion plagued him. She had seen grief on his face too many
times over the past two days not to recognize it.

She
stood. Although the pain had subsided in her ankle, it still throbbed when she
applied weight to it. Gritting her teeth, she pushed forward so she could stand
beside him. She wrapped her arms around him. He accepted the embrace, but only
for a minute before letting her go. He turned his attention back to the trees.

“You
deserve better, someone with more experience,” he said. “Once we get to my
village, I’ll make sure you’re reassigned. For now, I’ll do the best I can.”

“Is
that so?” she asked, frowning. “What other emotions can you read from me?”

“Not
many. Only the ones which indicate if you need help, like distress or intense
fear.”

“So
you can’t tell what I’m feeling now?”

He
shook his head. “Why?”

“Because
it would be easier for me if you could sense the depth of my anger. It would
feel a bit more like justice.”

He
retrained his eyes on her. “You have a right to be mad,” he told her. “The
situation isn’t ideal for you. After everything you’ve been through, you
deserve someone who can—”

“I
don’t care about the situation,” she interrupted. “I care about the fact you’re
planning on pawning me off on someone else.”

“That’s
not fair.”

“And
you abandoning me is fair?”

“I’m
not abandoning you,” he protested. “I’m trying to help you. You need someone
who can protect you better than I can. I have no experience.”

“You’ve
saved me four times now,” she pointed out. “Once at home and three times here.
I consider that protecting me.”

He
sighed. “It’s not. In each of those cases, I screwed up. An experienced Guardian
would never have let you get so close to danger.”

“You
don’t know that,” she countered. “But you do know me, which makes all the
difference. I trust you, Nick. It’s the only reason I’m here. No one else
could’ve convinced me to follow him into not one, but two strange forests, let
alone another world. No one else would’ve had the chance to guard me. I would’ve
ignored him and gone home. To my death, I’m certain.”

Nick
smiled, though the gesture held only sadness, and he brought a hand to her
cheek. “I know you trust me,” he said, “but there’s a lot you still don’t understand.
If Aunt Viv had known her future, she wouldn’t have brought me over. She would’ve
had another Guardian assigned to you. You would’ve known him and trusted him.
Maybe not in the same way you trust me, but enough to let him help you.”

“Mom
wouldn’t have done that.”

“Meg,
I realize you mean well, but Aunt Viv’s priority was your safety. There’s no
question she would have—”

“She
knew.”

Meaghan
only whispered the words, but the impact of them widened Nick’s eyes. “What?”
he asked.

“She
knew,” Meaghan repeated. A tear rolled down her cheek and around Nick’s thumb.
He brushed it away, and she covered his hand with one of hers, pressing her
face into his palm. “I realized it when you told me she was a Seer. She told
Dad to pack the backpack, didn’t she?”

“Most
likely, but that doesn’t mean anything. She could’ve had that ready for years,
just in case.”

“Maybe,
but I don’t think so. The morning she died, when she and I talked, she told me
to remember she loved me. I felt sorrow in her then. I thought the emotion was
mine, because it was right after you’d told me you were leaving, but it
wasn’t.” She withdrew his hand from her face. “Mom knew she was going to die, Nick.
She knew and she let it happen.”

“You’re
certain?”

Meaghan
nodded. “If you trusted her as a Seer, then you have to trust she kept you as
my Guardian for a reason.”

Nick
turned his attention to the rain again. When Meaghan realized he was
considering her words, she continued. “You’re right. Mom wouldn’t have put me
in danger, so I know I’m safe with you. I can’t say what her reasons were, but
I think we’ll find out in time. At least, we will if you don’t give up on me.”

“All
right,” he agreed and returned his eyes to hers. “But if you change your mind
when we get to my village, I’ll understand.”

“I
won’t.” She reached up to give him another hug, and then stepped back. Her foot
sank into a puddle, soaking her sneaker and her jeans. She jumped away from it,
regretting the movement as soon as her ankle buckled with pain, refusing to
support her weight. Nick looped an arm around her waist to keep her from
falling backward.

“We’re
flooding,” he said, turning her so she could see the stream flowing into the
cave. It pooled in the center of the floor then flowed back out, exiting the
opposite side of the cave from where it entered. “There must be a groove in the
floor causing it to do that. I imagine it will spread soon, which means we need
to start traveling before the rain eases.”

He
grabbed the blanket from the floor, stuffing it inside the backpack before
handing the bag to Meaghan. She clutched it at her side, but remained rooted to
her spot as she watched the stream. The water gurgled when it hit small pebbles
in its path, creating a soft melody and triggering a memory in her mind. She frowned
and dropped the backpack.

Nick
rescued the bag from the floor before the water claimed it. “Are you okay?” he
asked.

“Yes.”
She grabbed onto his arm. “Nick, it’s not natural.”

“What
isn’t?” He raised a hand to her shoulder. “Meg, are you sure you’re okay?”

“The
stream.” She pointed toward it. “It’s not natural. It’s magical. It’s flowing
uphill.”

He
stared from her face to the stream and back again. “The Guide,” he realized. A
smile spread across his face. “He’s controlling it.”

“I
believe so.  And I remember now what he sang in the forest. He told me we
had to follow the water.” She watched the river bend, beckoning to them.
“Nick,” she said. “The water is leading us up the mountain.”

T
HEY FOLLOWED
the stream for several miles. It deviated from the mountain path at times,
detouring up steep slopes and across jagged terrain, wandering under bushes and
behind boulders. Nick supported Meaghan when he could, and tested off-trail
paths ahead of her when he could not. In silence, he pushed them forward.

As
rain pelted harder on their heads, the river swelled, stirring red silt with
mud. The resulting orange flowed down the gray mountainside, reminding Nick of
rust on steel. He enjoyed the beauty of the scene for a moment, but his joy soon
disappeared when the river took a path he knew Meaghan could not manage. He
refused to follow and familiar clouds gathered in her eyes.

“We
need to,” she insisted. She sat down on a boulder beside the path and crossed
her arms over her chest. “Going up that hill is the only way we can get to the
Guide.”

“I
wouldn’t call it a hill. It’s practically a cliff face. I can’t even figure out
how the river’s getting up there.”

“There
has to be a way. He wouldn’t lead us here if there wasn’t.”

“We
can’t take the risk.” Nick sat next to her and lifted her leg onto his lap. The
bandage wrapping her ankle, like everything else they wore, dripped water. It
slipped in places, exposing swollen skin. “We need to take it easy. Your ankle
is bad again. We’ll follow the path, and the Guide will have to get us there
another way.”

“Nick—”

“You
said you wanted me as your Guardian, so now you’re getting what you wanted. The
path isn’t safe. We’re not taking it, and that’s final.”

She
opened her mouth to argue, but shut it when he shot her a warning look. He
began unwrapping her bandage and she sighed. “I think I’m beginning to regret
my choice.”

 He
chuckled, continuing his task. After wringing out the bandage, he rewrapped her
leg and stood. “Are you ready?” he asked.

She
nodded and he helped her to her feet, tightening his grip on her arm when she
tensed. He did not have to ask what had caused her reaction. He already knew.

“Mardróch,”
he muttered. “They’re close.”