Sword Sisters (10 page)

“Honesty is important,” I agreed.

“Can you teach me to be that tough?” Horva asked. Her eyes gleamed with excitement. How old was she? Maybe twelve? The same human age I was when I met Aaron.

“Not if you can’t keep track of your little brother like I asked,” Sela said. “You have one job, and you can’t do that. Why would Aella want to teach you anything?”

Horva looked at her scuffed shoes. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

“Now go find your brother and get him out of whatever trouble he’s in.”

“The last time I did that was when I beat up Borsaw, and you said I shouldn’t do that anymore!”

Sela glared at her. “Go!”

Horva rushed out the back door.

Sela turned her attention back to me. “Are others of…your kind…likely to come looking for you?” For the first time, she sounded genuinely worried, genuinely afraid of me. These humans don’t make any sense. First she says she wanted me to make a bigger mess, and now she seems afraid that I will.

“I don’t think so,” I assured her. And that was true: Andre and Keefe could track me at will and therefore wouldn’t bother. Adonis was too busy preparing for the coronation of the new King, which was still five years off, to stop to wonder about me. Goran might notice, but then he’d forget due to that head injury. “I won’t talk to Horva if you don’t want me to, you know.”

“No, dearie, that’s fine. It’s not like she wouldn’t hear this sort of thing anyway. You’re so much like Amelia, it’s like suddenly having twins. Are you hungry?”

She was still afraid, and all I’d done was slam a guy into the wall. Was that really why Amelia wasn’t here? I mean, she’d seen me in full-on Reaper mode, and the gods knew that could be terrifying to Demons, let alone humans. Should I just gracefully depart, leaving only my name as local folklore, the legend of the Red Reaper? I’d never gotten the answer to my question about Aaron either. But now seemed like the wrong time to ask.

So I smiled and said, “Thank you, Sela. Something to eat would be nice.”

#

She fed me stew, flavorless after Goran’s lavish meals, but certainly not repulsive. I reminded myself that sharing it with me meant the rest of the family might have to make do with less. That was something those of us in the castle never worried about.

Horva and Hatho watched me eat. I guess they thought I might have retractable fangs or a snake’s tongue. I wondered just what these villagers really thought about the Reapers. We really did need to get out of the castle more to show the humans that we weren’t crazed killers like the Demons.

I ate enough to be polite and was about to beg off for seconds when voices rose outside. A large group of people approached. My hand went for my sword, propped beside me at the table, but I caught myself before I picked it up.

The door burst open, and a man entered, pushing Amelia ahead of him. Behind them, a crowd of villagers all watched and murmured among themselves.

The man released Amelia, turned to the crowd and bellowed, “The show’s over! Go gossip amongst yourselves!” He slammed the door then turned to face the room. “I am not a happy man.”

“Of course not, dear,” Sela said as if she heard this every day. “Are you hungry?”

“No, I’m not hungry!” He ran his boots over the scraper then kicked them off into the corner. “I started the day mourning my daughter, then she shows back up with some cockamamie story about how a Reaper had killed Lurida Lumo. Then Sixle comes scampering back, saying that same Reaper was in my own damn house!” He glared at me then.

Amelia, still dressed in her blood-and-gore-splattered sacrificial gown, said, “Aella, this is my father, Heod.”

I did not stand. “Hello.”

“I knew you were trouble when Amelia brought you in,” Heod said. “I let myself feel sorry for you because you were hurt, but I knew.”

“You leave her alone,” Amelia snapped. “She’s my friend. She’s not part of this stupid village. If anyone started the trouble, it was you adults and your idiotic game of blind faith.”

“Worship is not a game,” her father snarled.

“Is that why you let them take me this morning?” Amelia demanded.

“No! Of course not. It broke my heart. You’re my child. But damn it, we can’t ignore the will of the gods!”

“Your god,” I pointed out, “was just a big bug.”

“I think you have done enough damage,” Heod snapped at me.

“Daddy, you will not speak that way to my friend,” Amelia said.

He sat heavily in the chair directly opposite me. “You’re right,” he sighed. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to blame for you for whatever the hell this mess is. You saved my daughter, and I should be more gracious to you. Still…you’ve left our family in a real pickle.”

“I’d rather be in a pickle than a casket,” Amelia said.

“We’ll get by, dear,” Sela said as she put a bowl in front of him. “We always do.”

He turned to look at Amelia the way Adonis looked at me when I did something stupid. Except Amelia wasn’t being stupid. “Well, don’t just stand there, Amelia, sit down. Your mother’s made dinner. We can at least pretend we’re a normal family.”

“Oh, I don’t think so. Go change clothes first,” Sela said. “Whatever that is all over you, I don’t want it getting on my dinner table.”

Amelia went into the one other room, one I assumed was for the children. We all sat in silence until she returned a few moments later in a dress very similar to the one I wore. She sat down between Sela and me and slumped sullenly. I was quite certain she still had spider bits in her tangled hair. For some reason, that made me respect her more.

“Say the blessing, dear,” Sela said.

I wondered if they’d still pray to Lurida Lumo, but that wasn’t the case. We all put our hands flat on the table, and Heod, eyes closed, said, “Ahamatdeen, Great Creator of All Things, we offer thanks for this food, for the home, and for these people. Ahamatdeen.”

“Ahamatdeen,” we all said in unison. Then we began to eat.

After dinner, I helped clean the dishes in the wash bin outside. Hatho, the least conspicuous member of the family, got water from the village well. We caught people peering around the house to catch a glimpse of us—whether Amelia or me, I couldn’t say—but no one bothered us, and Heod ran them off as soon as he saw them.

“You’d think they’d never seen a damn red-haired girl before,” he muttered as he stomped back after one such encounter. He winked at me, and I smiled politely.

Washing dishes was new to me. Amelia seemed to put all her strength into the scrubbing, and I broke two plates following her example before I realized I didn’t need to attack with quite so much vehemence. And I got a real sense of satisfaction from seeing the stack of clean plates I created.

Once the dishes were done, we retired inside where we sat around the small hearth. Heod strummed an instrument I hadn’t seen before while Sela sang several slow, melancholy songs that did their job and made all of us very sleepy. Hatho went to bed first, giving hugs and kisses to everyone, including me. I’d never been hugged by a little boy before, and his kiss on my cheek couldn’t help but remind me of Aaron. Tomorrow, I would search this village for him. After all, the rocks were nearby, so perhaps he was as well. My heart beat faster at the thought.

Horva joined Hatho soon after. Finally, when I began to yawn from the warmth, music, and rough events of the day, Amelia led me to the children’s room, where the two younger kids were already asleep. She insisted I share her bed and put a sleeping Horva in bed with Hatho.

As we lay there, I realized I couldn’t possibly go to sleep here. I felt too exposed, too vulnerable, after years of sleeping in my secure tower. Why, Demons could come through the window, through the door, even through these fragile wooden walls. Someone had to stay awake and protect people.

“Aella?” Amelia whispered.

“I’m awake,” I assured her.

She rolled onto her side, propped her head on her hand, and said, “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No,” I said at once. I didn’t know her nearly well enough to get into the whole Aaron situation although if I found him here, I suppose I’d have to. Or maybe she might know him? Of course she would; in villages like these, everyone knew everyone.

“I do,” she continued. “His name’s Connell. You notice anything unusual about him?”

Now that was a riddle if I ever heard one. “How could I when I haven’t met him?”

“That’s exactly what I mean. Why hasn’t he come to see me? Everyone and their chickens must know what’s happened by now.”

“Maybe his parents won’t let him.”

“I suppose. His father has never seemed to like me for some reason.” She lay back, her shoulder touching mine. I forced myself to stay very still. Physical contact was still very difficult for me. I preferred not to have any outside of training. Somehow, getting knocked around was far more comfortable than an accidental brush. “If this had happened to him, though, nothing could’ve kept me away.”

“Everyone’s different.” Why was I defending this boy I’d never met?

“He’s never actually said he loves me. He’s kissed me—he’s a great kisser—but he never told me he loved me.”

“Is that important?” I really wanted to know for when I finally found Aaron. Who declares their love first, the boy or the girl? What were the rules?

“Yes, to me. I love him. I want to marry him. He hasn’t… He doesn’t bring up the subject.”

“So why don’t you ask him?”

She rolled away. “Because I’m afraid the answer might be ‘no.’”

I knew that fear. It lurked under all the memories of Aaron: the worry that I’d read everything wrong, that he’d kissed me out of pity or contempt or some other human emotion I didn’t have the experience to identify. “Is it better to not know then?”

“Maybe.”

“Be quiet,” Hatho said sleepily from the other bed. Horva muttered something as well.

I thought about it. “Amelia…is getting married and having kids the most important thing for a girl?”

“I don’t know, Aella. I wonder about that too. It’s all my mom did. It’s all my friends want to do. But…I mean, there’s got to be more, right?”

“There is. Your village is only a tiny part of the world.”

“What will you be when you grow up?”

I thought about it. In human years, I was already “grown up,” but for a Reaper… “I’ll be a warrior.” I decided to leave out the part about being the next Teller Witch. Probably because it would never happen.

“Who will you fight?”

“Hopefully no one ever. The best warriors don’t have to fight. They stop fights by simply being the best warriors.” It was something Andraste had tried to drill into me, to explain why I had to train like the Demon wars were still happening. For the first time, I got a sense of what he meant.

“I don’t know what I’ll be if I’m not like Mom. That’s scary.”

The thought of being like her mom scared me too, especially after my last conversation with Eldrid. “What do you want to be?”

“I tell you what I’ll be,” Hatho said more loudly. “I’ll be tired, because you won’t let me sleep.”

“Children,” Sela warned from the other room. Amelia and I giggled.

The three siblings eventually fell asleep, but I of course did not. I wondered if Vikki was concerned that I hadn’t yet returned. She’d be the first to notice. Then Keefe. No, I knew both of them would assume I was off pouting somewhere. Keefe would return to our tree by the waterfall, and when he didn’t find me, he’d use his super tracking abilities to deduce I wasn’t dead then he’d go home. He might think I was still mad over the whole arrow in the back thing. That made me sad. I never wanted to hurt Keefe. Maybe he could tell by my salty chi that I wasn’t angry. Who knows how all that really works? What I did know is that I couldn’t go back that night. Not yet. Not until I’d looked around for Aaron.

I should’ve just asked Amelia about it. She might know. But I didn’t want to wake her.

I watched the moon slowly move across the window as the night progressed and indulged myself in my favorite memory.

#

The next morning, we all had breakfast together. Heod stomped off to work in his field behind the house along with Horva and Hatho. “You stay here,” he said to Amelia. “Entertain your friend. And stay out of trouble.”

I knew what he really meant: they wanted to keep Amelia and me out of sight until the storm passed. But that wasn’t going to happen. As soon as he was gone, I said to her, “Amelia, why don’t you show me around your village?”

“Oh, dearie, let’s not do that,” Sela said casually. “I need help with the baking.”

“But I’m supposed to inspect the place,” I said. “I really can’t just stay in the kitchen all day.” The thought of it actually made me cry a little inside. How do these women do it?

Amelia wiped her face with her napkin and said, “Okay, let’s go. I can’t wait to see their faces anyway.”

We emerged onto a hard-packed dirt street. Around us were other houses, but ahead rose larger buildings…well, by comparison at any rate. People were out doing domestic chores just like I’d seen the humans do at the castle. Gradually, they all turned to look at us.