Bones of the Empire (95 page)

“Wouldn’t dream of leaving.” He walked on a little longer before adding, “It could take some time to get used to my kits all being grown up and finding families of their own. I left four of my children and came back to six adults, two of whom are as much part of the family as my own, plus two grandchildren. It won’t be easy to wrap my head around.”

“Only two grandchildren?” Oria asked, without any hint of humor in her expression. “Oh…you didn’t know?”

Estin froze midstep and nearly fell over. He looked down at Oria’s robe, seeing no hint that she was pregnant. Given the layers of cloth, it would have been easy to hide. If she were pregnant, it had to be recent.

“No, no, not me,” Oria said, grinning as she waved away his concern, smoothing the front of her robe over her stomach.

Estin swallowed hard. “Then you mean…Marr?”

Oria kept her mouth shut for a moment before bursting out laughing. When Estin looked over at Phaesys for confirmation, he saw Phaesys was shaking his head sadly.

“She honestly thinks that jokes of that sort are funny,” Phaesys said, giving Oria a disapproving glare. “You should have heard the nonsense she filled Marr’s head with about the risks of spending time alone with a boy. I’m surprised that Marr is willing to let Rinam within a hundred paces of her. To this day, I think Oria told her those stories just so that I had to squirm when forced to reeducate Marr about topics I still have a hard enough time discussing with Oria. I did not believe my penance required educating young women about their relationships with men, but Oria certainly put me in that position.”

“I wouldn’t entirely deny that was intentional,” Oria said, putting her arm back around Estin. “Take a deep breath, Dad. I promise, no more surprises for a few days at least. Rinam and Marr aren’t too serious yet. No talk about marriages or life-matings that I’ve overheard. If this is the worst they come up with by this age, I’d say I did well enough for them. Things could have turned out far worse for all of us.”

They stepped into the tent, and Estin watched as the two young kits crawled over Feanne, who was on the ground, laughing and pawing back at them. Beside them, Rinam held Marr in his arms, hugging her as they smiled down at their games. Marr tried to quickly slip away when she saw Estin watching her—unsuccessfully, as Rinam did not let go. To one side, Theldis stood stoically, his tail wagging slowly—a near mirror of Phaesys’s quiet watching for threats. To the other side of Rinam and Marr, Alyana had her attention on Alafa’s money pouch, but snapped her gaze to Estin with a falsely innocent grin.

Through it all, the soldiers stood at the edge of the room, ready to leap to the defense of the wildlings—a reversal of roles that Estin had never expected to see.

As Estin walked from the entrance of the tent toward the others, the kits stopped their attack on Feanne and sat up. They watched Estin with their whiskers twitching nervously. Occasionally their gaze darted to Phaesys and Oria before coming back to Estin. His initial attack on Phaesys had clearly left the wrong first impression.

Kneeling, he beckoned them to him, but both kits hesitated. Sitting up behind them, Feanne whispered something, and the kits finally broke and ran at Estin, nearly bowling him over. For a while, Estin lay there, fussing with the children and enjoying the simple play that he had not gotten to do with his own children as they grew up.

Once the kits had tired of their games—and Estin’s fur and tail hurt from being tugged and bitten so often—Oria hurried them off to take a nap before they did any real damage to anyone. He could still hear them fussing in a back section of the tent, arguing that they were not tired in between loud yawns.

To his mild surprise and some concern, Marr and Alafa had wandered off to chat on one side of the tent. His own children were sitting in a half circle around Feanne, listening to her attempts to explain what had happened in their last days in Corraith. He noted she was going out of her way to avoid mentioning her own death. From the look of Alyana, she was going to be asking questions about that hole in the story soon.

Estin sat there, absently smiling at the people who surrounded him, including Phaesys and Oria when they snuck back into the main part of the tent once the kits were quiet. It was all so surreal, after years of struggling to keep anyone near him, that now every living member of his family—and a few extras—were in one place with no threat of death hanging over them.

Thinking back over the last few years, Estin could hardly believe half of it had happened at all, now that things were so serene. The years spent on the run in Altis before meeting Feanne. The months learning to trust and then love her, losing her, and then having her come back to him. The years of trying to live through the day and never knowing if they would see another dawn. It was all so real, and yet Estin felt as though it had happened to someone else.

For the briefest moment, Estin thought on those years of struggle as a waste and as lost years that he could have been sitting where he was right then. Slowly he realized that without all of that pain, all of those struggles, none of them would have been there at all.

Had Feanne not chosen to risk herself to save her father’s pack, Estin would never have met her. If Estin had not risked being caught by the Turessians that first time, Feanne would have died, snuffing out any chance for anyone in that tent to be alive. He knew full well he would never have lived as long as he had without Feanne at his side, nor would he really have wanted to. All the dragons’ talk about the pattern of life made sense.

He thought on those they had lost, trying not to let tears mar the moment. Atall’s sacrifice had saved all of them, even if Estin could wish his son was still alive. From what little Feanne had told him so far, Raeln’s sacrifice was no less vital. Nonetheless, he would have given anything to have all of those he had lost there, even for a few minutes, to let them know they had made all of this possible. Memories of Finth, Lihuan, Asrahn, Ulra, and so many others drifted across his mind, and soon tears were impossible to avoid.

Excusing himself as he wiped at his face, Estin hurried from the tent, motioning for the soldiers who tried to follow him to stay where they were. He got outside as fast as he could, barely getting into the sunlight before the tears came, despite his best effort to stop them. He had fought those emotions for so long, trying to be strong for the sake of everyone who depended on him. But it was too much now that he no longer had to be strong. All of the years of struggle pushed him far past his breaking point and demanded to be released in a few minutes of sobbing outside the tent.

Someone coming out of the tent forced Estin to quickly compose himself. He put a hand over his eyes as he struggled to regain control over his tears. He had not been around those people long enough to be seen as weak.

“No need to hide it,” Feanne said, putting her arms around him from behind. “I know exactly what you’re feeling, Estin. Trust me, I know. I asked Oria to keep the others inside for a little while so we can be alone out here. I need the time to think about how to confront that child and make sure she has what it takes to lead people.”

Estin laughed, and to his surprise, Feanne did too. She likely had no intention of challenging Oria. He could tell she was accepting everything and was more relaxed than she had been in years. There were still appearances to keep up, and that might necessitate Feanne putting on a show of passing authority to Oria. All in good time.

They stood out there in front of the tent until the sun was nearing the horizon again, neither of them saying a word for more than an hour. When Estin was finally sure he would not begin crying again—at least not right away—he turned around and hugged Feanne back. Her face was wet with tears as well, though she had managed to cry far more quietly than he had.

“Was it all worth it?” she asked, nuzzling his cheek.

Shifting his hand to place it over her shoulder where her shirt hid the scars that matched his own, he answered, “No regrets.”

“None at all,” Feanne replied, hugging him tightly.

“No More Pain”

Raeln gasped for breath as the pain faded abruptly. His whole body shuddered as the constant burning and freezing faded, making him initially think that he was finally dying. He had fought for as long as he could, detaching his conscious mind from the agony, trying to delay what he knew would eventually come. The lack of pain was more disorienting than the agony or the mists themselves after so long.

He hit the ground hard, as though falling from ten feet or more off the ground. Screaming, he curled into a ball as his whole body reminded him of the pain he had managed to ignore for months or years—perhaps centuries. It all came at him at once, sending him into a feral spiral of agony that made him want to lash out anything that came near him. All he could do was tremble and scream.

Slowly the pain faded enough that Raeln could catch his breath and piece together what was happening around him. He could feel something touching his back and hear faint movement. A murmur became clearer, until he recognized it as language. People were near, talking amongst themselves.

“He’s waking up,” said a man, and the hand on Raeln’s back gently slid along his shoulder, attempting to be reassuring, even as the contact made his skin burn. “Raeln? Can you hear me?”

Raeln let out another scream and cried as the pain redoubled. He lost any sense of the people around him for several seconds, until the burning began to ebb again. He managed to open his eyes briefly, seeing paw-shaped feet near his head. That at least meant the Turessians had not managed to drag him out of the mists—unless they were trying to put someone new in his place.

“I…I can hear,” Raeln wheezed, clutching at his face, trying to make sense of the years of torture he had tried to ignore. It was as though he were suffering all of it at once. “Please…please don’t touch me.”

The pressure on Raeln’s back pulled away immediately.

Raeln let the pain go on, with little he could do about it. He lay there, shaking, trying to endure it without letting out another scream. Whoever was there knew his name, and he had no desire to show more weakness than he already had. He just needed time.

Slowly the pain faded until Raeln thought he could bear it. Taking a long, deep breath, he steadied himself, trying to find some semblance of calm. Once he reached the quiet that always hid deep within his mind, he sat up, keeping his eyes tightly closed to avoid the bright light that stung his eyes even when closed.

“How long?” he asked, barely recognizing his own voice. He sounded hoarse, and all of the sounds in the room echoed painfully to his ears. “How long has it been?”

“Too long…I don’t know specifics. Just much too long.”

Raeln reached toward the speaker, his fingers finding the cloth of a shirt sleeve. He worked his way up the arm until he found the person’s neck, where his finger-pads came down on thick fur.

“It can’t have been long if anyone still knows my name,” Raeln reasoned to himself, releasing the person behind him and letting his hands fall to his sides. “Is Dorralt with you?”

“No,” another voice replied—a woman’s. “Dorralt is not here with us.”

Raeln smiled weakly. He had been worried that he might be expected to fight again, and he knew he was not up to that task. Not yet. “What about Turess or Feanne?”

The man behind Raeln chuckled. “He’s worried about all the wrong people. Was he always this dense?”

“He was, even as a pup,” the woman answered, sounding amused. “Raeln, you need to open your eyes. We should go soon. This is not the right place for us. We don’t belong here.”

Confused, Raeln struggled to make his eyes open, but the light was far too bright. Each time he tried, his eyes watered immediately, blinding him. He took another deep breath and forced himself to keep his eyes open, using his hands to shield them from the light.

At first he saw nothing in front of him beyond old dust-covered stones. He closed his eyes again, resting them briefly. When he reopened them, he turned slightly, trying to aim his face at the woman’s voice.

Kneeling in front of Raeln was Asha, her expression worried. She looked near tears herself. Her ears flattening back with concern, she reached out toward Raeln but then pulled back her hand nervously.

“Mother?” he asked as he was forced to blink hard again. He reached out and caught her wrist, feeling the warmth through her fur. “How are you alive?”

Asha pulled Raeln into a hug that hurt badly, but was something he was more than happy to endure. “Do not ask me questions yet,” Asha answered near his ear, clinging tightly. “Once we leave here, we can talk more.”

“We…?” Raeln trailed off, remembering the man’s voice behind him.

Without releasing his grip on his mother, lest she get away somehow, Raeln shifted on the stone floor so he could see more of the room behind him. He blinked again, struggling to focus his eyes. He saw Greth had been sitting beside him, smiling even while tears ran down his muzzle.

“About time you paid attention to me,” Greth chided, gingerly putting his hand on Raeln’s back. “There’s a lot of people who are worried about you.”

“Who’s here?” Raeln managed to croak out, his ability to catch his breath hindered by his mother’s tight hug. “Is this Oramain’s doing again?”

Greth grinned broadly. “I think I saw him somewhere recently. He’s not really someone I’m too concerned about. Ilarra is waiting nearby. Also, your two fathers and other mother are outside…someone still needs to explain that to me.”

Raeln nearly fell over. “How…how is any of this possible?”

Taking his muzzle in her hand, Asha forced him to look at her. “Do you want to ask that question, Raeln?”

Raeln pulled free of his mother and looked around the room where he lay. He realized it was still the cavern under the temple of Turessi. There was no longer a throne or the rippling hole in the air. Otherwise, the place looked exactly how he had left it. Glancing toward the stairs, he could see people waiting there, hidden by the shadows. Only Asha and Greth were within the light of the room…though he could not spot the source of the light.

“No, I don’t want to know anything,” he finally admitted, hugging his mother back. “Can I…?”

Asha laughed and released Raeln, motioning toward Greth.

Despite all of the pain still radiating through his body, Raeln spun and practically tackled Greth, hugging him as tightly as he could.

Greth made overexaggerated choking noises for a moment before hugging back.

“This time…” Raeln struggled to keep talking as emotion flooded him. “This time, will it be longer?”

“As long as you want,” Greth answered softly. “We’ve got all the time you need. We can wait to see the others or we can go now.”

“Not them…us.”

Greth laughed, nodding into Raeln’s shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere this time.”

“Should I be asking questions?”

“Nope,” Greth replied, smirking up at Raeln. “You really shouldn’t. Just accept this for what it is. Some things are better left unknown.”

“Am I…?

Greth reached up and grabbed Raeln’s muzzle, preventing him from talking. “We don’t talk about that. We don’t talk about duties and obligations that we had. You don’t have to worry about anyone who isn’t here with you. No running off to save the world, now. Promise?”

Raeln tried to think of anything he had left incomplete and could think of nothing. There was no burden on his shoulders for perhaps the first time in his life. Everyone he would have still been worried about was there with them.

“I promise,” he answered, holding Greth tightly.