Aerenden: The Child Returns (Ærenden) (31 page)

She
smiled. He pressed his lips to her forehead, and then stared over her shoulder,
shocked when he saw the raspberry bush that had been close to death the night
before. Meaghan tensed at his reaction, and jumped her feet.

“What
is it?” she asked, turning to scan the woods. “Is it Mardróch? I don’t smell
anything.”

He
took her hand and pulled her back down. “We’re invisible,” he reminded her.
“We’re safe.”

“Right.”
She offered him a sheepish grin. “You looked scared.”

“I
was surprised,” he told her. “It seems the second part of Vivian’s prophecy was
literal.”

“What
do you mean?”

“The
world will be reborn,” he recited, placing his hands on Meaghan’s shoulders and
turning her so she could see the raspberry bush beside the steps. The brown
bush had turned green. Its branches now bore dozens of plump red berries. “It seems
you have a new power. Shall we eat?”

“I
THINK
it
might be best if we don’t mention the wedding,” Nick said as they trekked
through another thick forest. This one looked no different from the one that
had welcomed them to Ærenden. As before, tall trees shaded them, only allowing
sunlight to stream through the canopy in pale streaks. Birds rustled leaves as
they passed overhead. Animals scurried away from them, their escape heard and
never seen. And as Meaghan and Nick had in the first forest, they travelled
during the day, using the canopy and overgrowth of the dense woods to cover
their movements.

Meaghan
knew they were nearing the end of their journey when Nick began coaching her on
what to expect in the village. He reiterated that his mother looked identical
to Vivian, and that Meaghan must be careful not to refer to Vivian as her
mother. He told her the Elders would want an audience with her not long after
she arrived, but he would ensure they allowed her time to change and shower,
and perhaps eat a snack if she wanted. He would protect her in his own way,
even from those who meant her no harm. And then he warned her about the
wedding.

“I
figured as much,” she responded. “And I’m assuming your affections will end as
well?”

“My
affections?”

The
look of confusion on his face amused her into grinning. “Like when you hold me
when I’m upset, or kiss my forehead or cheek,” she explained. “Or like now.
You’re holding my hand.”

He
looked down at their clasped hands and chuckled. “I hadn’t realized.”

“It
must be automatic for you,” she said. “You used to do that on Earth, too.”

“Did
I? Maybe Aunt Viv didn’t need to be a Seer to guess how I felt about you after
all.” He turned his hand to slip his fingers between hers, squeezed, and then
let go. “That will definitely have to stop or we’ll give ourselves away. I need
to find the right time to explain things to the Elders if I want to avoid a
trial.”

She
nodded. “What else should I know?”

“Only
that my village is larger than Neiszhe’s. It’s the primary Guardian village and
one of the biggest villages in the kingdom. Most of the people will know who
you are because they knew why I went to Earth.”

“I
understand,” she said and then grimaced with a sudden sense of dread. “So
there’ll be more bowing.”

“Some
people will bow, mostly those who were too young to have known the royal family
or those who are part of the royal guard, but most won’t. Most of the people in
my village come from families who directly protected your family members. If we
bowed all the time, we wouldn’t get much done.”

“That’s
a relief,” she said and then considered the implication of his words. “I
imagine if most of the Guardians in the village protected the royal family,
they must be big targets for Garon.”

“They
are,” Nick responded. “Garon destroyed the old village where he grew up, where
we used to live, but the new village is protected with the strongest spell
available. It took two dozen Guardians to enact it, and after almost fifteen
years, it still holds. Garon hasn’t found us yet.” He stopped in front of a
large boulder with a flat top that stretched several feet wide and nearly the
same in width. Leaning down he examined a brown, scraggly plant at its base.
The plant appeared to be losing its struggle against a thick matting of weeds.

“What
is it?” Meaghan asked.

“Tamrin
bush,” Nick answered. “Both its leaves and nuts are edible when it’s bearing.”
He pulled one of the weeds from the earth and handed it to her. Its roots were
twice as thick as the stem of the plant. “This is called grim weed. It twists
its roots around the roots of other plants, choking them by cutting off their
food source. The nearest I can tell, its sole purpose is to kill everything in
its path. It’s slow growing, fortunately, but not good for the vegetation if it
goes unchecked.”

“Handy,”
Meaghan responded and tossed the plant aside, “if you want to destroy entire
forests. We have plants that do similar things on Earth. Is it natural?”

“No.
It’s another one of Garon’s inventions. He has a Gardener in his ranks.” Nick
leaned down to pick up the weed Meaghan had discarded and threw it on top of
the boulder. “They reroot,” he told her. “We’ll have to burn it. Let’s pull the
rest so it doesn’t spread.”

“Is
a fire safe?”

“It’s
dense enough in this part of the woods that a small fire will go unnoticed. We
won’t have to keep it lit for long to do the job.”

“That
works for me,” she said and then bent down to help him, tearing weeds from the
ground in large clumps. “What’s a Gardener?” she asked. “Is it anything like it
sounds?”

“In
a way.” He tossed more weeds onto the rock. “A Gardener works with plants,
helps them grow, and has the ability to create new species through
cross-pollinating, similar to what you’re probably used to, but it’s all done
using a power.”

She
laughed. “Of course. What else would it be?” Standing, she dropped the weeds
she had collected onto the rock. “So this plant was created through magical
mutation?”

“Basically,”
he responded. He pulled the last of the weeds and tossed them on top of the others,
then added dried leaves he gathered from a pile at his feet. After dropping the
backpack to the ground, he fished a box of matches from it, then struck one on
the rock, and touched it to the weeds. The green plants only smoked at first,
sending tendrils of gray into the sky, but when Nick leaned down close to them,
blowing a steady breath into the pile, the fire took. As the water within the
weeds boiled, the plants exploded, giving off satisfying pops and turning the
smoke into thick black clouds.

Meaghan
watched the fire destroy Garon’s vile creation, felt a surge of vindication,
and then crouched to examine the weeds’ victim. Though she doubted the tamrin
bush would live much longer, she saw streaks of green fighting their way
through the deepening brown and knew it had life left in it still. Her mind
went back to the raspberry bush from this morning and she reached out a hand to
touch one of the tamrin bush’s branches. She waited a minute, but nothing
happened.

Another
power she could not control, she thought with frustration, and started to
stand, but stopped when Nick placed a hand on her shoulder. She had been so
focused on the bush she had not realized he had crouched down beside her.

“You
don’t know how to do it, do you?” he asked.

She
shook her head and then felt dread build again. “What will I do if I can’t
figure out how to control my powers?” she asked. “You said your village is
larger. How will I handle so many emotions if I can’t figure this out?”

“Let’s
take one thing at a time,” he said and laid a palm against her cheek. “Until
you can control your empathic ability, we’ll figure out a way to ensure we
don’t go too far from each other. If you stay focused on my power, you’ll be
okay. As far as this new power, it may be stronger, but it should be easier to
control since it’s dormant.”

“Dormant?”

“Not
active all the time like your empath power,” he explained. “It seems
counterintuitive, but a power you access for a particular purpose is easier to
control than one that’s always working. Because it’s constant, it’s hard to
know where your power stops and you begin.”

She
did not respond. She turned her attention back to the bush, touching it, and he
drew his hand to her back.

“My
blocking power was the first thing I learned to control,” he told her. “It
drove my mother crazy because I would use it to keep her from finding me,
particularly when she had chores for me to do.” Meaghan smiled, amused, and he
moved his hand to the back of her neck. “My ability to sense danger was harder
to control. It’s active all the time and though it’s not usually something I
want to subdue, there are times when it’s important to do so, like when I’m in
battle. Since the danger is everywhere, it inundates me. The power becomes
overwhelming and drains my energy.”

“Like
mine does,” Meaghan said.

“Exactly.
Guardians learn how to mute their powers around the age of ten, once they’ve
had time to understand how to manipulate their other powers. Even with
practice, it’s difficult to learn.”

“But
I don’t have ten years to learn how to do it,” she protested. “There has to be
a quicker way.”

“It
won’t take you long,” he promised. “But you won’t be able to do it overnight,
either. Give yourself time and focus on learning your new power for now. That
will help.”

She
blew out a heavy breath to ease her tension and nodded, conceding. “So what do
I do?”

“Start
by telling me what you felt when you made the raspberry bush grow.”

She
took a minute to consider before responding. “I was upset, mostly. I thought I
had done something that would get you killed. And I was angry.”

“What
else?”

“I
was hungry, which is why I thought of the bush. Otherwise, I would have left it
alone. And I felt warm.”

“Warm?
It’s been cold for days.” He drew his brows together and then his eyes widened
in understanding. “You felt warmth,” he realized, “after we were wed.”

“Yes.”
She turned to study him. “I assumed it was residual from being wed because I
felt it first right before the colors started, and it hasn’t been as strong
today as it was yesterday.”

“It’s
from the wedding and it’s not,” he said. “What you feel is a concentration of
energy. And you feel it less today because your body is growing used to it, not
because it’s fading.”

“What
is it?”

He
placed his hand on her chest, to the right of her heart. “You feel it emanating
from here, right?” She nodded. “It’s power, Meg. It’s a part of you and you’ve
always had it, which is probably why you never noticed it until it changed.
Close your eyes for a minute and focus on it.”

She
closed her eyes and then hesitated, reopening them. “I don’t know how.”

“Here,”
he drew her down to a sitting position and sat facing her. “Do what I do,” he
told her. “Take in a breath and hold it.”

She
watched his chest rise, nearly overinflate, and she mimicked him.

“Now
close your eyes and focus on exhaling slowly.” She did and waited. “Inhale
again and hold it,” he instructed. When her breath had filled her lungs, he
touched two fingers to her chest at the point where she felt the most pressure
from holding her breath. “Focus here,” he told her. She directed her attention
to his fingers, to the sensation of them pressing into her body, and then to her
aching lungs as they begged for release. To her surprise, she also felt
something else, something warm and radiating. She smiled and released her
breath, pleased to discover she could still focus on the warmth.

“You
have it?” Nick asked.

“Yes.”

“Keep
your eyes closed for now, and give me your hand.”

Meaghan
did as he asked, extending her hand toward his voice. He took her hand in his
and then drew it down to her lap. He turned her hand so her palm faced up, and
then she felt something rough against it. A branch of the bush, she realized
when she closed her fingers around brittle leaves.

“This
next part may be difficult to understand,” he said. “But try to relax and do it
anyway. It should be instinctive, even though you didn’t grow up here.”

“All
right.” Though curiosity nearly had her opening her eyes, she remained as she
was, tranquil and focused on the warmth. “What next?”

“Send
your power to the plant. Exhale it, like you did with your breath.”

She
frowned, certain what he had instructed could not be possible. Breathing was a
physical thing, born to her, and this seemed more abstract. Still, she had
agreed to try it, so she willed her doubt away and concentrated harder on her
power, commanding it to move. Nothing happened at first, but then it slid. She
took in a deep breath, held it, and expelled it again. Then she pictured
drawing the warmth across her body and into her hand. When it shifted and did as
she pictured, spreading through her and then setting fire to her palm, she
gasped. She let go of the plant as her eyes flew open.