Echoes of a Fallen Kingdom Page 2

  “Are you sure no one followed you?” Leo asked. “You acted as if someone did.”

  “I was just being cautious.”

  “You don’t have to lie to me, Andar. There’s no reason to.”

  Andar eyed Leo. He opened his mouth as if he was about to speak but said nothing.

  The front door opened, startling Leo once again. Anger bubbled up. He couldn’t tell if it was from all the startles, from his brother’s lies, or from the unending desire to retrieve the rift stone Andar had thrown out the window. Whatever it was, it made him go for the knife on the table rather than run.

  But Andar was there first, grabbing it and stepping in front of Leo as if to protect him. The man entering held his bright lamp high, the glare obscuring his face.

  He lowered the lamp, revealing Father’s stern expression. “Expecting someone else, Andar?” he asked.

  The knife reflected a yellow light as Andar lowered it. Leo stepped out from around him and spoke first. “Did you see anything on the roof?”

  Worry twisted Darren’s mouth about his square jaw. He stepped back through the front door and turned to gaze up at the roof. He walked out of sight, presumably to get a better angle. Andar had just started after him when Darren called out, “Bring me the knife.”

  Andar ran, Leo behind him.

  Their father returned to their doorway and put his hand out for the knife. “Stay back,” he ordered as Andar handed it over. “And shut the door.”

  Andar did so, then both he and Leo ran to the kitchen window. “Back up,” Andar said as he got there first. “We can only open it a little.”

  Leo waited behind as his brother peered through the small opening he’d made in the wooden shutters.

  “What can you see?” Leo asked.

  “Nothing.”

  Someone whistled to the right—the same direction that Andar had thrown the stone. There was a scampering sound across the roof from what had to be something with more than two legs. A small crash sounded close to their bedroom. Andar ran to the bedroom window as if he was crazy enough to open it and look. Leo was going to grab his shirt to stop him, but a moment of hesitation made it too late. He followed his brother into their bedroom as Andar opened the window slightly for a look in the same direction where they’d heard the creature land—the same direction as Rygen’s house.

  “I still can’t see anything,” Andar said before Leo could ask.

  Their father called out from the front, “Come here, both of you!”

  Andar shut and latched the window. He was right behind Leo as they met their father in the kitchen of their small home.

  “What was it?” Leo asked.

  “I couldn’t tell. It’s too dark.”

  “But there was something?”

  “Nothing for you to worry about.”

  It was the same thing Darren always said when Leo brought up concerns about money. He was beginning to understand this phrase better. These were things he wasn’t old enough to worry about, but someone needed to.

  Leo wished his brother and father would sit down and that Darren would exchange the knife for a spoon, but neither made any motion toward the table where their soup was now cold.

  “What did you take?” Father questioned.

  “I got rid of it,” Andar said.

  “When?”

  Andar’s gaze fell.

  “Tell me everything,” Darren said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

  “I finished my work on the farm by the afternoon, which gave me time to go to the market.”

  “You were just there yesterday,” Father complained. “Don’t you know better than to visit the same place in a week? Especially the market, where someone is likely to see you take something.”

  “I know.”

  “Then why did you do it?”

  Their father always scolded through logic. It made it impossible for Leo to argue with him, but Andar sometimes found a way.

  But he apparently knew better than to do so today, when they were actually in danger.

  “It was stupid,” Andar admitted.

  “Then why did you do it? You’re not stupid.”

  Andar sighed. “We all know I have moments.”

  Leo laughed, glad to release some of his tension. With their father back, there was no reason to be afraid any longer.

  Darren stopped hunching over his older son. Though he did not laugh or smile, he did seem to let out his breath as if partially relieved. He gestured at the table. “Sit and eat. It’s late.”

  The three of them sat in their seats. No one had a designated chair, but they always sat at the same places, Leo between his brother and father. Leo watched as they looked around and apparently noticed that everything was clean.

  “Thank you, Leo,” his father said. “It was very helpful for you to tidy up.”

  “Thank you, Leo,” Andar echoed in what sounded to be a genuine tone.

  He and Darren ate quietly for a moment. It bothered Leo that no one seemed interested in continuing the conversation, but he was happy nonetheless. They were together. Everything would be fine.

  Eventually their father asked, “Do I want to know what you took from the market today?”

  “No, because it won’t matter.”

  “Good.”

  No one spoke again until they had finished their soup. “Now tell me about the screams I heard from around here while I was out looking for you, Andar,” Darren said.

  It seemed as if everything had returned to normal—Andar would no longer be lying—so Leo let his brother answer their father’s questions.

  “We know nothing about them,” Andar said. “Just that they came from the east, but Rygen and her mother are fine.”

  “East is the same direction as the market,” Darren pointed out.

  “A coincidence,” Andar said.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Completely.”

  Leo was wrong. Andar still chose to lie. But perhaps he was right about one thing that would make his lies unimportant. Perhaps what he took wouldn’t matter tomorrow, the next day, or any day after that. Perhaps tonight was the beginning and the end of all contact with that stone.

  Leo no longer felt its pull. He was somewhat sad at the idea that he would never find out what the stone did or what kind of creature was on their roof, but he was more relieved.

  There had been other things Andar had stolen that he’d hidden, knowing he wouldn’t be able to sell them for a while. But he hadn’t had to get rid of anything else that Leo knew of, and he’d certainly never needed to lie to their father.

  He still doesn’t. It frustrated Leo that Andar chose to do so now, but Leo couldn’t betray his brother. Andar had their family’s interests in mind after all. At least Leo thought so.

  “You won’t go to the market for a few days,” Darren demanded.

  “It’ll be weeks, Father.”

  Darren squinted at him.

  “It’s true,” Andar said. “I have no plans to go back anytime soon.”

  Father seemed disappointed. “The more you lie to me, the harder it is for me to help our family.”

  “All right,” Andar said in defeat, to Leo’s surprise. He had no idea Andar had lied just then. “I’m sorry. But I’m only planning to look around. I will keep my hood on and see what I need to see. I will not take anything.”

  “You’re still growing, Andar. Because of your size, you’re recognizable even with a hood. It’s the same reason I’m recognizable no matter what I do.”

  Why has Father ever needed to cloak himself?

  “You don’t want me to lie,” Andar said. “This is the truth. I will go one last time, and it’s only to observe. I will be safe.”

  “When?”

  “Tomorrow morning, before the farm.”

  “Then you must get to bed so you have enough sleep.”

  Andar stood. “All right.”

  No one in their small house spoke until Leo and Andar were under the covers
of their beds. Leo whispered across the room to him, “Are you going to bury the gem somewhere tonight?”

  Andar quickly got up. He walked to the door frame and peered out toward their father’s bedroom. After a quick glance, he came back and closed the door.

  He whispered to Leo, “We need to forget about that gem. I never had it.”

  Earlier it was just a stone—a solid, which was a term for anything natural to this world. But Andar had described it now as a gem, a word more commonly used for rift gems.

  “You said it was a solid earlier.”

  “I never said that exactly,” Andar argued.

  “You said it never could be a rift gem because no one would sell rift gems in Jatn.”

  “It wouldn’t make sense for someone to come to the market with one.”

  “Unless they found it near the city,” Leo said.

  Andar didn’t reply. Perhaps he had figured the same thing.

  “Leo, it’s too late for us to speak about this any longer,” Andar finally said.

  “You agree, don’t you?”

  “No, you’re quite wrong.”

  “How?”

  Andar sighed. “I don’t have it in me to explain, but rift gems are not found. They are made.”

  “They are found,” Leo argued. “They come from rifts.”

  “They don’t come through rifts whole.” Andar grumbled. “You’re not going to let me sleep until I explain, are you?”

  Actually, Leo would. But when his brother phrased it like that, he didn’t see a reason to disagree. He was silent as he waited for Andar to continue.

  “Most rift gems are made from stones that summoners relocate to our realm using a rift, but many of these stones can’t do anything yet. It’s only after a master gemcrafter infuses the gem with Artistry that it becomes what we call a rift gem.”

  “And then the gem can be used by a mage to make links?”

  “Yes. That’s another reason I don’t think I was holding a rift gem. You seem to have felt what I felt. It was almost alive. I don’t see how someone could use it. All I can imagine is it using someone.” He sighed again. “I guess I don’t think it’s a solid after all. But it’s not a rift gem, either. Perhaps it’s a summoner’s stone. Eh, I’m just torturing myself wondering. I’m never going to find out.”

  Leo had read about a summoner’s stone in A Summoner’s Life. Andar had read the same book, but there wasn’t much to go on. Not only was the book fiction, it focused more on the strife between a good and evil summoner, not on Artistry and gems. The stone, in the book, was just something each summoner held while summoning. It seemed to help, but Leo didn’t know why.

  “So you’re not going to bury the gem somewhere tonight?”

  “No. I’m leaving it alone. It’s too dangerous to be near again.”

  “Then what are you doing at the market tomorrow?”

  “I have to get another look at the seller.”

  “Why? What did he look like?”

  “It was a woman. She was hooded, and her shop was in the shadows. I didn’t think much of it at first because I was too focused on the gem. But now I’m realizing she was probably hiding herself, as if she was selling stolen goods.”

  “Then she won’t be there tomorrow,” Leo said.

  “Which would prove my theory.” Andar turned in bed to face the other way as if he was done speaking.

  “And what would that do?” Leo wondered aloud.

  “Satisfy a curiosity.”

  When Andar offered no other words, Leo grunted in annoyance and turned to face the opposite wall. “Stop lying to me, Andar,” he mumbled.

  He knew his comment had been loud enough for Andar to hear, but his brother didn’t reply.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Rygen didn’t usually return home this early, but she had made sure to finish her work at the Bookbinding Guild quickly. She wanted as much time as she could get for her and Leo to read the newest book she’d acquired. It had taken a lot of pleading and a few promises, but it was now hers, at least for a little while.

  The guild master of the Bookbinding Guild would ask for it back after a few days, most likely, but she figured she could read it through at least a few times before then. She just had to invite Leo over here for the first read.

  It wasn’t so much that they read together. It was more that they read against one another. They would sit side by side on Rygen’s bed with her brightest lamp at the bedside table. Each of them would read the two visible pages as fast as they could. The first one to finish would say they were done. They were still allowed to look at the pages. When the other person had finished, that person closed the book and would ask the first question. It had to be about something they’d just read. Usually Leo was second to finish reading, so he would ask the first question. If Rygen answered correctly, she received a point. It was her turn to ask a question next. The first person to two points would win, then they would go on to the next two pages.

  The competition started only last year, when Rygen was allowed to begin working at the Bookbinding Guild at nine years old, a year earlier than the requirement for most children. Gartel, the guild master, was friends with Rygen’s mother, though they didn’t seem to be friends much anymore. He used to come by their house quite often, sometimes even stay overnight, but now they didn’t seem to speak much. Rygen didn’t mind. Gartel was still nice to her so long as she treated his books and his shop with care, as she always did.

  The book in her hands was a true tale of history, her favorite kind of story. She read the title aloud to practice her dramatic voice for Leo, for it was always his first question about the book, and she could sometimes earn an excited laugh from him.

  “Quim and Kin: Crowns and Betrayal.”

  Ever since Rygen’s mother and Gartel had been teaching Rygen history, they’d enticed her with this story—a recent event that everyone already knew except for her. It was only a little over ten years ago when the story began, just after she was born. Everyone the age of her mother was alive at the time, and it was all they could speak about when the drama was real. Rygen’s mother had given her hints as to what the story was about: kings and powerful families, and the most monumental betrayal in history. All it did was make Rygen want to find out more.

  She was so eager to begin that she pretended not to notice the pile of clothing her mother had gathered together and stacked in the corner of Rygen’s room. No, not today. Was it really her turn? She ignored the thought as she went into her mother’s room, which had the only mirror in their home. Tiny and circular, the mirror on the wall was just bigger than Rygen’s palm. She and her mother had saved up for months to purchase one. It was clean and beautiful glass, and it would always remain that way so long as no one took it.

  Rygen’s face and hair were still clean from her bath that morning, a perquisite of working at the Bookbinding Guild. Her blonde hair was long and messy, in need of a cut. It sometimes tangled near her arms as she put meticulous care into folding parchments and attaching the gatherings. She wished her hair covered more of her large forehead, but she wouldn’t be able to see unless she parted it to frame her face instead, as she always did.

  She always expected people to stare at the top of her head, but they looked into her gray eyes instead. She sometimes wondered whether they saw her face the same way that she did. Or perhaps it was just this tiny mirror that made her forehead seem so large. She’d asked her mother what she thought, but Verona hardly even glanced at Rygen before saying she was as cute as a puppy and shouldn’t worry.

  Most children, like Leo and Andar, worked on farms here in Jatn. She used to do the same until last year. Just like the boys, she used to always return home looking as if she’d wrestled in the dirt. The boys didn’t seem to mind the dried mud on their clothes or the smudges on their cheeks as much as Rygen did. She saw Leo often, and there were even times that she’d notice stains of blood on his pants or sleeves. But he never complained about any of it, at least not
to her.

  It used to make her wonder if he actually enjoyed his work on the farm, but she stifled that silly curiosity long ago. Leo had since made it very clear that books would be his future, as they would for Rygen.

  It was no use for Rygen to try to see how clean her clothes were using the tiny mirror. She glanced down instead at her dress and took it in her hands, twisting to see each side. It was the last clean item in her wardrobe. The rest of her garments were sitting in a pile on the floor, her mother’s mixed in.

  “Dammit,” she said. She only cursed when her mother wasn’t around and when there was no better word to describe her torment. Try as she might, Rygen couldn’t ignore her mother’s silent request to clean their robes. She went over to her bed and hid the book under her pillow. Perhaps if she hurried to finish her task, she and Leo still might have time to read tonight.

  ◆◆◆

  It was late when Rygen returned from the river. She had rolled back a heavy barrel filled with their wet clothing. Her mother was preparing supper but stopped to help Rygen hang the heavy garments. It was warm enough that night that the clothing could dry indoors, where it would be safe from thieves. They opened the two windows on opposite walls and hung their robes over the string that ran across their small kitchen, then they sat and ate.

  Rygen was tempted to rush, as there still might be a few moments she could steal that night to read with Leo. But the few times she had tried, her mother had scolded her and explained that it was rude.

  “Thank you for washing today,” Verona said. “I’ll make sure I have enough time to do it next.”

  “Gartel finally let me borrow Quim and Kin: Crowns and Betrayal.”

  “Oh he did?” her mother replied with a gasp and an overenthusiastic drop of her mouth. It was these responses that made Rygen most feel like a child, but she could never be angry at her mother. “I hope you thanked him.”

  “I did, many times.” As well as promise to complete extra work for a week as soon as he asks for it back. “I know it’s late, but can I read with Leo tonight?”

  “You can read it with him tomorrow after you come back from the binders’ guild.”