Wintermore (Aeon of Light Book 1) (4 page)

Nala stands firm, clinching her fists, frowning through her supple yet feisty face, and a vein throbs in her temple.

Deet playfully grins and licks the spoon. “Darn good, Sis. You out did yourself tonight.” He winks at his older sister as he extends the spoon back toward the pot.

“Don’t you dare, Dietch Penter,” Nala says. “Not if you want any dinner tonight. Now out do yourself out of my kitchen and get,” and she waves a piece of cloth in the air as if swatting at a swarm of mosquitoes buzzing around her head.

“Come on, Nala, just one more bite.”

Nala slaps the cloth on the table with a loud crack. “
What
, something wrong with your ears? I said get. Or you’re going into the pot with your spoon.”

Deet sighs. “Dang, Nala.” He moves to Grandpa and Agna sitting by the window.

“My jollity jumping jack rabbits, Dee,” Grandpa says, “Agna here tells quite a tale, about horse poopin’ fluttery damned lights, and ladies roamin’ the forest hunting kids.”

“It’s true,” Deet says, “we went where you said and found Preta. A woman killed a boy and then went for Sis. Yaz took her down with his bow, two arrows to the chest. She had this on her.” Deet tosses the woman’s pistol onto the table and unfolds the map with names on it.

Grandpa leans in and squints for a closer look. “Never laid my eyes on a revolver that fancy. What’s on the scrap of paper?”

“It’s a map with symbols next to a list of names.”

“What kind of symbols—whose names?”

Deet runs his finger over the leathery parchment. “Glynn Refess, and next to his name is the same hollow circle burned on Preta’s back. It shows an arrow from his name to Hallerton and a fish symbol.”

Confused, Grandpa tilts his head. “Same symbol as on Preta’s back? What in the blazin’ Iinia is going on here in our forest?”

“The light marked her somehow when it struck her.” Deet swivels the map toward Grandpa and points at the symbol. “This exact mark is now on Preta’s back, and the woman Yaz shot has a similar symbol, though the dashes were slightly different.”

Agna leans in for a better look. “What else does it say?”

Deet adjusts the map on the table for everyone to see. “Davin Olertee, and next to his name the circle’s third dash is darker and raised above the rest. The arrow points to Iinia, maybe north of Ardinia, and next to his name there’s a symbol, maybe a stack of coins, but I’m not sure. And there’s one more, a Pard Wenerly, the fifth dash is raised, and the arrow points to Bastin with an X near Wellingtin. The symbol next to his name is a quiver and an inkwell.”

Grandpa’s face twists in disbelief. “And what in blazin’ Iinia is all that supposed to mean?”

Deet calmly folds the map and pats it on the table. “I don’t know, but one person on this list is dead, and the symbol of that dead person is now burned on Preta’s back.”

Grandpa sighs and leans back in his chair. “Poor girl, seeing death so young.”

“Her body’s in shock,” Deet says, “but she’s getting better.” He sets the silver cylinder on the table.

“Do I even have to ask?” Grandpa says, eyeing the canister with suspicion.

Deet frowns. “I have no idea what the hell this thing is. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Push the latch on the side,” Grandpa says, pointing at it.

Deet raises the cylinder close to his face and slides the latch back.

Psst—

Cha
—

The cylinder’s top decompresses and snaps open.

They all gasp at the same time and leap out of their chairs.

Deet drops the cylinder onto the table.

It crashes onto the wood and rolls until striking a large copper bowl, then it wobbles and stops. A faint white smoke emanates out the canister’s center.

With shaky hands, Deet lifts the cylinder which is cool to the touch. He takes a shallow breath and peers inside.

Inside, a wet, pinkish, veiny flesh honeycomb with the appearance of grapefruit lines the metal walls. Intermingled with the flesh, thin silver wires poke out extending toward the center.

Deet tilts the cylinder so Grandpa and Agna can see inside.

Grandpa’s eyes widen. “What kind of madness?”

“No idea,” Deet says, shaking his head. He touches the clasp again.

Cha
—

The cylinder snaps shut and they all flinch in unison.

Grandpa grabs his chest and breathes heavy. “I think I’m gonna have a heart attack my heart’s pounding so damned fast. Put that hellish thing out of sight before it hurts someone.”

Deet wraps the metallic cylinder in a ragged cloth. “Whatever this is, it’s not like anything I’ve ever seen.”

Grandpa slowly lowers his body into his chair. “This world is going crazy I tell you. All manners of these new mechanical steam and electric machines I can sort of understand. Though I can’t for the life of me understand what the hell that thing’s supposed to do.”

Agna extends her arthritic hand, gently touching Grandpa’s. “Don’t worry about it, Lon. All will be better in the morning, I’m sure of it.”

The door swings open with a bang, and startled, they all spring out of their chairs again.

Yaz coolly struts in. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, no need to get up, I got it, same as always.” His arms bloody, he carries three meat buckets. He hooks the door with his boot heel and swings it shut.

Deet eyes Grandpa, and they both shake their heads at the same time and sit back down.

Nala meets Yaz halfway across the room. “About time. What took you so long? Get lost again?”

“Shut up, Nal, you do it next time if you’re going to complain. The deer’s been hanging out there ever since we left for Preta.”

Nala cocks her head and flicks her hair into Yaz’s face and then glances back, giving him
the look
.

“Whatever,” Yaz says. He eyes the fireplace and makes straight for the simmering pot. “
Mmm
—what’s this?”

Nala slams the buckets on the table. “Don’t even think about it, you bloody dirty doofus. You touch my pot, and you lose your hand. Now out, out of my kitchen and clean yourself up.”

Yaz pouts and spins away from the pot. “I swear, this is such crap.”

Nala slams her hand on the table, and Yaz jumps. “What did you say?”

“
Oh my gosh
,
nothing
.” Yaz raises his chin in empty superiority, snatches a piece of cloth, and shoulders his way through the back door. “Such crap.”

Grandpa smiles at Agna. “It’s been quite an eventful evening. I can’t thank you enough for helping the boys and Preta tonight. You know Deet is getting married in a week, right?”

“To the Fallow girl if I remember correctly,” Agna says. “Lurrin, Lurra, Lurrus. Lurrus Fallow.”

Grandpa slaps Deet’s thigh and winks at Agna. “Right good looker there. Not sure how this one caught such a fine lookin’ lady, and smart too. Yup, only about a week left. The wedding is at the pavilion in Waighton. Most of the town will be there, and I expect you’ll be there too.”

“I’d love to come,” Agna says.

Grandpa grins and stomps his foot. “Settled then, be there this Saturday at eleven.”

Agna eyes her pocket watch. “I better be off, the husband is probably wondering where I’m at. It’s been a long day and I’ve got a long walk home.”

“
Walk
? The heck you say walk. Yaz, get two horses ready and take Agna home. Yaz? Dammit. Yaz!” Grandpa braces his hand on the table and presses up. He groans. “Hells these bones—these kids. Yaz!”

“Gramps, I’ll take Agna home,” Deet says.

Grandpa ignores Deet and waddles halfway across the room and stops, distracted by the feast Nala just set on the table.

Steam rises from the seasoned whitefish and warm bread.

Grandpa bends over, taking in the aroma, waving both his hands over the food and drawing the tasty air to his nose.

Nala bumps Grandpa to the side with her hip and sets another pot on the table. “Not you too.” She picks up a knife and slices the bread. Nala glances back and forth between Grandpa and Deet. She points the tip of her knife at each of them. “You guys play with swords so much, just keep on tempting me and I’ll show you who’s the best with a blade in this family.”

Grandpa winks at Nala and slaps her butt. “That a girl.”

Deet catches up to Grandpa and places his hand on his shoulder. “Gramps, I’ll take Agna home.” He raises his voice louder so Grandpa can hear.

“No, no, Yaz can take Agna home.”

The back door swings open, and Yaz struts in.

Grandpa and Deet both stare at him.

Yaz jerks to a stop. “Now what’d I do?”

Nala chuckles and snatches a cloth off the side table.

Yaz opens his arms. “What the heck’s with you two?”

Deet flicks his head toward the front door. “Get two horses and take Agna home.”

“What?
Me
—
now
—why me?”

“Yes, you,” Grandpa says. “Now get your butt moving.”

“Seriously, I just—”

“Move!”

Yaz pouts and sulks past them. “This is such horse crap.”

“Hey, Yaz,” Nala says.

Yaz turns and Nala tosses him a wrapped bundle. He catches it as if a baby flew in his direction. Yaz sniffs the warm seasoned gift of wrapped satisfaction. “All right then.” He twists his face into something unrecognizable and slips out the front door.

“He’ll be ready in just a minute,” Nala says to Agna, “can I get you anything to eat? Some meat, or bread, or stew?”

“No, no, I’m fine. I’ll be off now. Give my best to Preta when she wakes up. If she needs anything, you know where to find me. And Deet—”

“Yes,” Deet says, leaning forward with full attention on Agna.

“The woman who killed the boy, she knew who he was. It seems like they were hunting him. Protect your sister because whatever they wanted and killed him for, your sister may now have.”

“I will, don’t worry, she’ll be safe with us.”

Agna gives him a kind smile and turns away. “Good night, all.”

“Hey, beautiful,” Grandpa says with a wink, “see you at the wedding, and I’ll keep my eye open for my dance.”

“Grandpa!” Nala says, throwing a soiled towel at him.

Agna returns a shy smile and closes the door behind her.

Deet moves through the kitchen and on to the bedroom where Preta lies asleep.

Preta’s chest moves up and down in a rhythmic motion.

Grandpa’s voice echoes from the other room. “Let’s eat. I can eat a whole damned horse I’m so hungry.”

Deet smirks and kneels next to Preta. “Gramps.” He places the back of his hand on Preta’s forehead. “You’ll get better soon, you’re safe now.” Deet strokes Preta’s hand with his thumb.

“Huh?” Preta’s eyes snap open in a fright. She gasps for air and her body jerks upright to a seated position. “The-the boy, the light, it’s after me.”

“
Shhh
, now, now, you’re home, you’re safe.” Deet softly rubs Preta’s back. “Lie back down, rest.”

Preta lowers her body while blinking. She tilts her head and searches for Deet’s hand.

Deet kisses her forehead. “It’s all right, baby Sister, it’s all right, sleep.”

THE WEIGHT OF THESE STRAPS

“No, don’t do it.” Preta’s eyes flinch open in a fright, and she sucks in a deep breath. She sits up, wipes her face, and stares at the window.

“Check this one out, Dix,” Yaz says from outside.

Preta crawls out of bed, opens the squeaky wooden shutters, and peers through the cloudy glass. She unlatches the clasp and pushes open the window. A cool breeze rushes into the room and fills Preta’s lungs.

With shirts off and swords in hand, Yaz and his friend Dix, face each other.

Dix scowls as he stands three inches taller and has twenty pounds of muscle on Yaz.

They both raise their swords at the same time, and metal clashes at eye level.

Yaz shifts his body, presenting his right shoulder. He suddenly dips his elbow and his forearm goes horizontal. Yaz rolls his wrist around Dix’s blade, and he shuffles to the left. His left arm shoots out, striking Dix’s elbow, forcing it to lock in place and then he shuffles forward into Dix’s body. Yaz rolls Dix’s back toward him while his own blade slides to Dix’s neck with the hilt first.

“Yield?” Yaz says.

“Yes, yes, yield, yield
,
” Dix frantically says. “Nice one, Penter.”

Preta chuckles and closes the shutters. She slips on a robe and heads to the main room and sniffs the air,
porridge
, then she rubs her aching stomach and swallows funny from the dry slime caked on the inside of her mouth.
Yuck
. Preta twists her face and smacks her gums in disgust. She snatches a water glass off the table and downs the entire contents without coming up for air. Lowering the glass to the table, Preta let’s out a loud burp and gurgle.

With long spoon in hand, Nala turns away from the cast iron pot swinging over the coals. “Finally up, I see. You’ve got to be hungry.”

Preta scrunches her nose as she sits at the table. “I’m not sure. My stomach and body feel weird.”

Nala places a ceramic bowl and a copper spoon in front of Preta. “You should feel weird. You’ve been asleep for a day and two nights—now eat.”

Preta picks up the spoon apprehensively. Her stomach churns with a dull ache, beyond the point of hunger. She places a spoonful of oats into her mouth and gums them for a second and then drops the spoon back into the bowl and slumps in her chair.

Nala sits across the table and points at Preta’s bowl with her spoon. “Hey, kiddo, eat, you need to regain your strength.”

“All I see is the nightmare I had last night, of a boy’s face all twisted up and stiff. And then a blinding light hits me hard in the chest and takes my breath away.”

“That’s definitely a bad dream and unfortunately was as real as rain. Deet and Yaz brought you home the other night.”

“It was
real
?” Preta says.

“I’m afraid so.”

“Then who was the boy? And what about that light that hit me?”

Nala shrugs. “I don’t know, and neither does anyone else.”

Preta fidgets and stirs her porridge, with no intention of taking another bite. “How am I going to forget this?” She lowers her gaze. “It was so horrible, that poor boy.”