Wintermore (Aeon of Light Book 1) (15 page)

“He’s coming, slowly.” Deet dumps Yaz on the floor in the corner. “If Grandpa isn’t back in a few minutes, I’ll go look for him.”

Lurrus tenderly rubs Deet’s back. “Did you have fun tonight?”

Deet glances at Preta and then back to Lurrus. “You know how those things go, they’re just, well, look at him.” Deet nods toward Yaz.

Yaz lies in the fetal position, mumbling and drooling.

“Good,” Lurrus says, “I’m glad you had a good time, and Yaz came through bringing it all together.”

Preta sneers at Yaz, licking the floor with the tip of his tongue.

Nala hovers over top of him. “Sure came through all right, Yaz the mighty drooling floor licker.”

Preta and the others sit at the table.

“He enjoyed himself, that’s for sure,” Deet says.

Preta snorts. “I can only imagine.”

“The whistler?” Lurrus says, squinting at Preta.

Preta flinches and spins toward the front door. “
What
?”

“The whistler?” Lurrus says again. “When Deet opened the door, you yelled it out.”

Preta touches her ear and glances at the fireplace. “
I
did
?”

“Don’t play stupid, Preta Penter, I heard it too,” Nala says. “What does it mean?”

Preta takes a deep breath. “When I was at the privy, I saw a man, and he whistled.”

“So what, a lot of people whistle,” Nala says.

“Well, this whistler stuck a knife in a man’s throat.”

Lurrus gasps, placing her hand over her mouth.

Deet and Nala sit up straight with full attention on Preta.

“Killed a man, you say?” Deet says.

“Yeah, he killed a man. And the other man with him carried the body out of town, using the southwest road.”

With shaky finger, Nala points at Yaz. “Are you telling more stories like your idiot brother?”

Preta, serious but shaken, eyes Deet. “He killed him,
really
.”

“Did you see why he killed him?”

“I think he didn’t like what he said.”

“Did you recognize any of them?”

“No, I never saw him before. I overheard them talking and others like them are in a camp near here. They’re in town watching someone or someone’s cottage. When I got back from the privy, he was here, across the street, staring at me
.
”

“Are you sure it was the same man?”

Preta nods. “I’m positive.”

The front door swings open with a bang.

They all spring out of their chairs in unison as Grandpa stumbles inside, his big belly bouncing.

Grandpa waves at them. “No need to get up, I’m all right.”

Nala smacks her forehead with her palm. “Blazin’ hells, you startled the crap out of us.”

“
You
, startled? I haven’t startled anyone in twenty years. So why are you all still standing?”

Deet sits and sighs. “Seems we may have dangerous men in town. No one should go out by themselves tonight. I’ll keep watch.”

Lurrus sets her hand on Deet’s shoulder, both in a silent conversation with their eyes.

Deet gives Lurrus a loving smile and stands up. “Preta, come with me outside, and help get the packs from the cart.”

Preta follows Deet and shuts the door behind her.

“Is there anything else you need to tell me?”

Preta shakes her head
no
, and avoids his eyes, worried that her brother will scold her. “I didn’t say anything to anyone about the pub, I promise. And about the whistler, he did it, really.” She glances to where she saw the whistler beyond the lantern, only pitch black looks back at her from the alley. She scans the street for any movement, her mind focuses on Mr. Felsten’s scarf. “Deet, who’s Lomasie?”

Deet squints. “Lomasie, you say?”

“Yeah, I saw him playing cards with you at the pub.”

Deet nudges a small crate on the cart. “He’s a businessman or a politician I met tonight. He’s in town for one or the other I gather. Sophisticated fellow, him.”

“What kind of politician or businessman? What business does he have here in Waighton?”

“It never came up. Why?”

Preta animatedly talks with her hands. “He had Mr. Felsten’s scarf.”

“The tailor?” Deet says, scratching his temple, unsure of what she is getting at.

“Yeah, the tailor. Last week on the Waighton Road heading west, he stopped and talked to me on his way to Bielston. He wore the exact scarf Lomasie wore tonight.”

“Lots of scarves out there, Preta. Lomasie seemed like a good chap to me. If it was Mr. Felsten’s, maybe Lomasie bought it from him in Bielston. He does sell scarves, he is a tailor.”

“What if he didn’t? What if he’s with the whistler and the others?”

“And what would they be after?”

“
Oh
, I don’t know, maybe me.”

Deet snorts. “
You
? Why you?”

“Those same types killed the boy in the woods, right? And Agna, she said dangerous people come after people like me?”

“Nothing’s wrong with you,” Deet says, losing his patience.

“The light did something to me, and I’m changing.”

Deet leans closer to her. “What haven’t you been telling me?”

Preta looks at her shoes and scrapes them on the cobblestones. “I’ve connected to animals with a blue light and can do strange things I can’t explain.”

“What are you talking about? Have you been drinking tonight?”

Preta’s gaze snaps up, and she stares at Deet. “No, listen, the boy, I bet he had it too, and they killed him because of it.”

“Connect to animals?
Preta—
”

“Yes, and Mr. Felsten’s horse and the bear Yaz killed.”

“The bear too now?” Deet shakes his head and rolls his eyes.

Preta sneers. “Come on, did you really think I tossed an arrow to Yaz, and he caught it in midair and stabbed a charging, ravenous bear in the eye as it lunged at him?”

Deet slowly nods and glances at his mud-covered black boots. “Oddly, this time your brother’s version is slightly more believable than what you’re telling me right now.”

Preta grabs the cart and rocks it back and forth. “It’s true, and Yaz knows; he saw me connect with the bear. And Mr. Felsten saw me connect to his horse
.
”

“Mr. Felsten and the scarf again?” Deet says, shaking his head.

“He saw me connect to his horse with the light, and it scared him. He rode away, threatening me to stay away from him.”

“All right.” Deet puckers his lips. He nods toward the cart. “Prove it—connect to Berta.”

Preta tilts her head, unsure if she really heard her brother right. “Huh?”

Deet points at the horse tethered to the cart. “You want me to believe you? So connect.”

“Fine, I will.” Preta moves closer to the horse as Deet watches on.

Preta focuses her thoughts on imagining herself inside of the horse’s mind. Preta clinches her teeth, straining to summon the light and connect. Nothing happens.
Come on—connect
.

Again, no blue light.

In failure, Preta lowers her head in defeat.

Deet turns away and chuckles. “And that’s what I thought.”

Preta’s blood surges with anger. She spins toward the horse, and a glowing aqua-blue arrow shoots out from each of her shoes. The arrows merge into a single beam of light and it bounces along the cobblestones toward the horse. They enter Berta’s chest, and the horse goes still.

Energy pulses through Preta’s body. Her feet grounded and not moving, a faint aura of blue light fills the surroundings. Preta takes in the energy, absorbing it in contempt. “Believe me now?”

“Of course I believe you,” Berta’s rough but feminine voice says inside of Preta’s head.

“Sorry, Berta. I didn’t mean you.”

“You didn’t?”

Preta falls back and disconnects from Berta. Her left hand grips the cart as Deet clinches her shoulders.

“Stop, stop, I believe you, I believe you!” Deet says, frantic and pulling Preta to the ground and forcing her to crouch down.

“
I told you
.”

“Okay, okay, are you all right?” Deet says, peeking around the cart wheel and scanning the street for any onlookers.

“Of course I’m all right.
I told you
—next time, believe me.”

Deet sucks in a quick breath. “I will, though not a word of this to anyone. No need to scare the girls even more tonight. Go inside and straight to the bedroom, close the cover, and go to bed.”

“Yes, but what about—”

Deet shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, just get inside, I’ll deal with Nala. Go straight to the back room, got it?”

Preta nods and glares at her brother, still upset he didn’t believe her.

Deet helps Preta stand.

They slowly move toward the front door, huddled over, arm in arm.

Preta leans back to allow Deet in front of her to open the door.

She tilts her head to the side, glancing down the road along the cottage walls.

Underneath a lantern post, Lomasie, wearing a long black overcoat and holding a cane, he stands with arms folded across his chest, motionless, silent.

A violent wind gust sweeps through the street and the lantern flickers illuminating half of Lomasie’s statuesque body while the other half remains shrouded in darkness. He slowly unfolds his arms. The cane held in one hand disappears into the shadows.

Lomasie’s other arm extends toward the lantern, and he drops Mr. Felsten’s scarf, fluttering in the wind.

THE ANIMAL WITHIN

A tree branch scrapes the cottage window, waking Preta. Her stiff eyelids open as light seeps through the cracked glass.

Preta sits up and looks at Lurrus and Nala, one sleeping on either side of her.

She yawns, rubs her crusty eyes, and gets out of bed, tiptoeing across the cold floor. She ducks under the floral door drape leading to the main room.

Grandpa snores, sleeping on the powder-blue couch.

Yaz is still curled up in the same spot and in the fetal position; his cheek rests in a drool puddle, and his nose twitches.

Deet sits in a wooden chair, gripping a sword in one hand with a silver pistol lying on his thigh in the other. The tip of his sword rests on the floor, and his head balances on the hilt.

Preta taps his shoulder.

Deet snaps awake in a fright and springs up into a half-fighting posture, his sword and pistol raised.

“Deet?”

“
Ah
, Preta, good morning.” Deet plops back down into his chair and stares at the front door as if expecting someone to break in at any moment. His bloodshot, watery eyes barely able to open, he sucks in a vocal breath. “Hey, make us some tea, and make it strong.”

“Where’d you get that thing?” Preta nods at the pistol.

“What are you talking about?”

Preta points at the pistol lying on Deet’s lap.

“This?” Deet raises the pistol in front of him and inspects it.

“Pistol, you call it?”

“It’s a six shooter, like a musket though better.” He lies to her. “I won it at the poker game last night.”

Preta holds out her hand toward him. “Can I see it?”

Deet ignores her request and places the pistol back on his thigh. “Tea, Preta.”

Preta pouts and scurries to the counter and grabs the copper kettle handle. She prepares the tea leaves for brewing and places the kettle on the metal grate over the fireplace embers.

After a few minutes, she pours the boiling tea into the copper cups and takes one to Deet.

Deet reaches for the cup and gives Preta a groggy smile. “Thanks, it’s going to be a long day.” He lays his sword on the floor, sits back, and sips the tea.

Preta pulls up a chair and sits next to him. “So what’s the plan today?”

Deet sighs and twists his lips as he looks at Yaz clucking. “Get married and stay awake. And hopefully stay alive.”

“Should we tell the others about last night?”

“I’ll talk to Grandpa and your brother when they wake up. No reason to ruin the day for the girls.”

“So what should I do today?”

“Stick close to Yaz or Grandpa,” Deet says. He stands and gives Yaz a hard nudge with his toe. “Get up.”

Yaz mouths the floor. “
Wha-wha-da-da-mmm
…”

“Yaz, get up.”

“
Bla-stin-wha-u-no-more-sla
…” Yaz waves his arm as if swatting at a fly buzzing around his ear. His tongue licks the wooden floor, and he slurps up his own drool. Yaz chews the drool then swallows. “
Ya-mmm-gra-lulu-mmm-yo-yo’s
…”

Deet sneers at his brother. “Preta, fetch a pail of water.”

She brings Deet the bucket and hands it to him.

Deet kicks Yaz in the butt. “Get up.
No
? All right, you asked for it.”

Yaz slurps up more drool. “
Don’t-plea-giv-mmm-a-mmm-yo-yo…
”

Deet dumps the water on Yaz.

He bounces up into a seated position with legs splayed; water drips from his long blond hair, and Yaz cocks his head to the side toward Preta. “Hey, Sis.”

Preta cocks her head in the opposite direction to Yaz. “Hey, Yaz.”

Deet sets the bucket on the ground and throws Yaz a cloth and clean shirt. “Time to get up. Clean yourself and put some dry clothes on.”

Yaz twists his face while chewing as he removes his wet clothes. “What’s that taste?” He slips on the clean shirt. “What is that? I can’t quite place it. Hey, Dee, I think the food may have been a little off last night.”

Deet hands Yaz a cup of tea. “Drink this.”

Yaz drains the cup in one gulp. His head does a single twitch, and he slams the cup on the table, making Preta flinch.

Deet rests his hand on Yaz’s shoulder. “I need you at your best today.”

“I’m always at my best,” Yaz says.

“Seriously, Yaz.”

“Seriously, Brother.”

“Are you good now?” Deet says.

“Don’t know if you’ve recognized lately, but I’m always good.”

Deet flicks his head toward Preta. “I need you to watch your sister today. Don’t let her out of your sight for any reason, it’s important.”

Yaz squints at Deet. “Why?”

“There are some nasty types after her, maybe like the woman who killed the boy in the woods. And by the way, I know.”

Confused, Yaz tilts his head to the side. “What do you know?”

Deet flops his arms and hands haphazardly in the air and then points at Preta. “You know, your sister and her, you know, light, animal, thingy.”