Aster Wood and the Book of Leveling (Volume 2) (11 page)

“I don’t think having power makes you cursed,” I said. The sliver of power I had that allowed me to run, where on Earth I could barely walk without getting winded, I considered a precious gift.

 
“It makes you cursed here,” he said. “My parents, when they heard the strange, formal speech coming from me when I was a babe, taught me how to blend in, how to speak like the others of our kind. I figured out how to hide my powers for a long, long time. But I was born…different than my people in many ways.”

“Is that why you left?” I asked, looking around at the glances of the villagers as we walked, some friendly, some mean. “I mean, aside from the girl.”

He shot me a glance, but his face quickly shifted from suspicion to humor.
 

“As if a girl could be the reason I would leave my childhood home for the great beyond,” he said. Then his face fell, his eyes fixed on a small house up ahead as we walked. “There were others, magical folk, who came before me in our history. But none of them did us any good. Just about every one turned to the darkness over the years, unleashing their foulest on those closest to them. When I started to feel it, I guarded it inside, certain that if I just held it back, kept it close, that I would be able to stay here.

“But magic, well, it comes out of you, whether you try to hide it or not. And one day,” Erod’s gaze stayed fixed on the tiny house, his eyes both faraway and intense. “One day, it did.”

“What happened?”
 

“What usually does,” he said, stopping and turning to me. “At least, to those of us who manage to hold onto the good as well as the magic. She was in danger.” He looked up at the cottage again. Behind the window glass, a flutter of white trailed past. “And that was it.”
 

“You saved her, and now she hides from you?” I asked. I, too, stared at the house now, willing her to show herself.
 

“I expect she doesn’t have much choice,” he said, tearing his eyes away. He put his hand on my shoulder and turned me away from the place. We walked on.
 

“When it happened,” he continued, “her father was right mad. Looked just like an angry bear as he barreled down on me, threatening to kill me. Of course, there wasn’t much he could do. Druce doesn’t hold the magic in him, and neither does anyone else in the town. At least as far as I know. Without it, he couldn’t really touch me.
 

“But the damage was done. Their fear is too great, and even though I had saved one of their own, some would argue the most important one, they wanted me gone. I knew it. They knew it. So I left.”

“That’s so unfair,” I said.
 

“Maybe,” he said. “But they’ve experienced a lot over a long stretch of time. It can be hard to shift people’s minds away from what they know, especially when danger’s involved. To them, it was only a matter of time before I turned, too.”

“But you didn’t turn.” I looked up at him sheepishly. “Did you?”

A wide grin broke across his face and he chortled. “No,” he said. “Not yet.”

I saw the people differently now as we made our way through the town. I had feared them this afternoon, but now I felt both a sort of pity and an anger towards them at the same time. How could they do that to one of their own? Just shut him out because he
might
turn evil someday? Anybody
might
. And in doing so they had lost the opportunity to have him among them. To allow him to use his gifts to help everyone.
 

“Where did you go?” I finally asked, my mind finally coming back to where he had left off.
 

“Well, you heard my ma. The sea. It’s a natural place for people like us. We live up here in the mountains, but we’re raised on the water. From as young as I can remember I’ve been sailing on the sea, be it on a two-stick raft or a mighty ship, like the one you and I met on.” He lifted his head in the direction of the ocean, breathing in the cool mountain air. “It was easy to hide what I had out there. And besides, nobody would have cared anyways. That’s the funny thing. The thing that got me sent from my home and family would’ve had the opposite effect out in the wider world.”

“Did you tell anyone?”

He shook his head, lowering it from the breeze. “No. There’s all sorts of targets a man can wear. Some say you’re dangerous, some say you’re desirable. I wanted neither on my back.”

We had come back to his family’s house, and as he opened the door to go inside, I paused and looked behind at the town we had just come through. In the distance, back on the other side of town where the tiny cottage of Erod’s love sat, I could swear I saw another flutter of white, before that window, too, was shuttered tight.
 

Inside the room was sticky and hot. But my feet had barely crossed the threshold before I was knocked backward against the wall.
 

“Get OUT you filthy traitor!“ came a loud, angry voice. The sound of pummeling fists permeated my head, and I crossed my arms over my skull to protect it from what I was sure was an attack against me.

But the attack was not meant for me. In a flash, both Erod and the man with the fists were shoved out the door again.

“I told ya to keep it outside!” Erod’s mother yelled, brandishing a large pot in one hand as though she intended to smack one of them over the head with it.
 

The two men wrestled in the dirt, punching and kicking at each other. Erod’s mother, satisfied that they would not disrupt her kitchen again, turned her back and walked away. I stared, mouth gaping, at the ferocity of the fight in front of me. They grunted and swore between punches, beating each other bloody until finally, several minutes later, they both lay on their backs beside one another, their chests heaving.
 

Erod’s father stood in the door behind me, and his sudden presence made me jump.
 

“You boys about done?” he growled. They didn’t answer, but Erod turned onto his side, spitting out a large mouthful of blood onto the ground. The man beside him groaned. Erod got to his feet and stumbled towards me. I backed up, alarmed at his appearance. One eye was quickly turning black, and blood flowed from both his nose and mouth.
 

“That,” he panted, “is my brother, Egon.” He pushed past me into the room beyond.
 

Egon rolled to his feet and stumbled forward after him. He was in even worse shape than his brother, with two black eyes and a face so bloody I couldn’t tell where it was flowing from.
 

“Oh, no you don’t!” Erod’s mother had appeared again, and she blocked the doorway entirely with her wide frame. “You know the rules. Family fights go
outside
.”

“He ain’t
in
the family no more,” Egon snarled, trying to push past her.
 

She shoved him roughly away, and for a moment I realized that, though she was much older, she was clearly much stronger than her son.
 

“You wreck my kitchen and
you
won’t be in the family no more.” She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. He spit at her feet, and amidst the bloody mass a single white tooth stuck out.
 

She slammed the door in his face.
 

Both Erod and his father sat at the small table now, Erod holding a wet rag over his damaged eye.
 

“Had that comin’,” his father said. Erod snorted and blew his bloody nose into the rag.
 

Soon, the three settled down, and Erod’s mother began barking orders.

“Plates,” she said to her son, and he hoisted himself up from the table and removed a stack of dishes from the shelf. I noticed that he set five places at the table, not four.

“Is he coming back?” I asked, glancing nervously at the closed door.

“If he wants to eat,” said Erod’s mother.
 
She moved around the table, slopping down large servings of meat and soggy vegetables onto the plates. I recognized the deer meat, and my mouth filled with saliva. Next to each plate she placed a large chunk of bread.
 

Nobody waited to start in on the meal. Erod and his father attacked the food immediately, as though they hadn’t eaten in a month, and soon his mother was slurping it up as well. I picked up my spoon and took a large mouthful. The meat was delicious. The green, slimy vegetables less so. But I did as the rest and dipped my bread in the thick gravy, which made the whole thing a lot more enjoyable.
 

When the door banged open, I was the only one to bother to look up from the table.
 

“Where you been?” Erod’s mother asked Egon.
 

“Hmph,” he said, pulling out a chair and slamming his large backside down into it. He glared at me. “Who are you?”

“I’m—uh,” I sputtered.

“He’s my guest,” Erod said to his plate.
 

“Hmph,” Egon said again. “You bring a freak home to join us, did ya?” His taunting had no effect on Erod, so he turned to target me again. “How’d you meet my brother here?” he asked. “In some dark cave somewhere? What’d he tell ya about us, eh? He tell ya where to find it? He tell ya all our—”

“Shut up, you moron,” Erod said. Egon broke his glare and tossed it towards his brother.
 

“Don’t you call me that,” he shot back. “I know what you are.” He picked up his own spoon, apparently deciding to eat before attacking again.

“All you know is paranoid nonsense,” Erod said.

“It ain’t nonsense,“ Egon began.

“Shut up, the both of ya,” Erod’s father roared, slamming both of his giant fists down onto the table.
 

Everyone fell silent, Erod and Egon both staring at their plates angrily. Beneath Erod’s clenched fingers, I caught the sight of several bright tendrils of power, like tiny lightening bolts, flying over the skin of his fist. A few long moments stretched out until Erod’s father picked up his spoon again. Then, everyone else followed suit, and we all ate the rest of the meal in silence.
 

When every plate at the table was empty, and the pot contained no more of the meal, Erod pushed back.

“They’re waiting,” he said, looking at me.

“Waiting?” I asked.
 

“Mum told the elders this morning. Since then, they’ve all waited.”

I eyeballed the window. Suddenly feeling certain that a horde of people must be standing right outside the door. Would they all hiss and spit at us the way so many did this afternoon? Would they attack, as Egon had done?

“What are they going to do?” I asked, my mind racing, my fingers digging into my pocket and closing over the medallion protectively. “Are they going to go crazy like the sailors did? Try to steal it?”

“Nah, I won’t let ‘em.”
 

My eyes remained on the window glass. Several flickering torches were just visible in the early evening light.
 

“Here’s how this is going to go,” he said. “They’re as afraid of you as you are them, but everyone here wants the same thing. Peace in the Triaden. If you get in over your head, just keep coming back to that point. The leader is Druce. He’s the smallest of the council; that’s how you’ll know him. But don’t let his size fool you. He’s a sharp man and won’t miss a single detail of your story.”

“What will they want?” I asked.

“Want? What do you mean?”

“I mean, what are they expecting from me?”

He sat back in his chair and thought for a moment.
 

“The truth should suffice.”
 

“And you?” I said. “What will they want from you?”

“That remains to be seen.”

Erod stood and went to the door. I clumsily pushed my chair back and followed him. Through the window glass the bright flickering of torches touched his face. He looked down at me.

“Here we go.”

“Wait,” I said, grabbing his hand before he turned the knob. I was suddenly all but frozen, not ready for what awaited me on the other side of the door.
 

He paused, studying my face. Then he bent a little bit to look me in the eye.
 

“You and I are the same,” he said. “Just like you, just like them out there, I also want peace in the Triaden. Difference is, I’m not afraid to take a risk to win it. Neither are you. Aren’t many people left who are willing to fight this war. You want your answers? This is the way.”

“War?” I asked.

He nodded curtly. Then he pulled open the door and stepped out of the cottage. I looked back at the table. Erod’s parents both watched us leave, hardened looks of pain cemented into their faces. Egon’s eyes remained on the wood.
 

I turned to leave the cottage, and before me fifty giant villagers, all but the children taller than Erod, fell silent. As we began to move through the crowd they parted, letting us pass to the reckoning that lay ahead.

War.

He must be exaggerating.

But these people looked deadly serious.

Erod’s home was on the edge of the village, one of about thirty low cottages that were scattered haphazardly in the small mountain valley. The mountains surrounded us, jutting up high into the sky from all sides. This place was well protected from the rest of the island. That hike from Riverstone hadn’t been for the fainthearted, and I suspected that few would make the journey only to be greeted by a band of giantish men. On one precipice I caught a glimpse of white flickering in the coming night wind. I almost stopped in my tracks, surprised by what I recognized as a sharpshooter. I looked around at the mountains again, and I wondered how many guards were up there with my heart in their sights.
 

We walked on dirt road to the center of the village, the crowd silently following. A bonfire was built up and waiting for us. An average sized man stood in front of it, arms crossed against his chest, and stared at us with cold eyes. He approached Erod when we got close.

“Erod,” he said, keeping his arms firmly crossed over his chest.