Read The Mansions of Idumea (Book 3 Forest at the Edge series) Online

Authors: Trish Mercer

Tags: #family saga, #lds, #christian fantasy, #ya fantasy, #family adventure, #ya christian, #family fantasy, #adventure christian, #lds fantasy, #lds ya

The Mansions of Idumea (Book 3 Forest at the Edge series) (13 page)

BOOK: The Mansions of Idumea (Book 3 Forest at the Edge series)
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Hili straightened up. “Yes, sir. And sir, how
many more of your secrets will I be asked to keep tonight? Just so
I know?”

Perrin chuckled. “Just remember, I have my
fair share of secrets about you too, Mr. Out All Night.”

“I’m not that anymore, sir,” Poe said with
conviction and glanced at Mrs. Shin now sitting next to her husband
and positioning a blanket around her.

Mahrree nodded at him, hoping that was
true.

But Perrin smiled, without any doubt. “Now
Hili, for starters, I’ve been told I snore—”

A polite cough from behind the sofa twisted
Perrin around.

Mr. Hersh stood at the fence that divided
their properties. “Actually, Lieutenant Colonel, that’s not much of
a neighborhood secret,” he smiled. But the commander was not who
interested him.

With his eyes now as steely as the sword, Mr.
Hersh gestured to Poe. “Young man, I
trust
you’ll keep an
eye out for everyone tonight?” His words were heavy with meaning.
He knew full well who sat armed in the garden next to his.

“Absolutely, sir!” Poe said resolutely.

And a part of Mahrree actually believed
him.

 

---

 

In Idumea, eighty miles away to the south,
Joriana Shin massaged her hands. Standing before her, across the
massive desk her husband kept in his office, were General Cush and
two lieutenants. Their bleak countenances told Joriana all she
needed to know.

Still, that wasn’t about to keep her from
asking. “So we know of eleven places in the city that were heavily
damaged,” she checked her meticulous notes again.

“Yes,” General Aldwyn Cush said patiently,
while the two younger officers flanking him shifted in place.

“And Chairman Mal’s been notified?”

“Yes, he was most alarmed. He’s demanding
updates.”

“Good. And you’ve interviewed all of the
soldiers who were helping with the recovery efforts?”

“Yes, Joriana.”

She checked off a few items, reluctantly.
“And we’re sure everyone at the garrison was asked?”

General Cush regarded her with sympathy in
his tired eyes. “Joriana, there are thousands of soldiers—”


Everyone at the garrison was
asked
?!”

Cush glanced to the aide at his left. “Go get
my wife,” he said in quiet undertones. “Mrs. Shin is going to need
someone here with her tonight.” In a louder voice he said, “Colonel
Thorne sent out messengers everywhere, asking, and all day long.
Joriana, it’s dark now, and there’s little—”

“I don’t care that it’s dark, Aldwyn!” she
seethed. “All I want to know is, where’s my husband?!”

Cush sighed miserably. “That’s what all of us
want to know, too.”

 

---

 

The sun would be rising in just a few
minutes, but Poe Hili was more than ready for bed. He found himself
repeatedly nodding and banging his head awake on the ornate steel
hilt of the sword that supported his leaning body. He’d been that
way all night, fighting to remain conscious to pay attention. It’d
been a while since he was Mr. Out All Night.

In the dirt in front of him, he kept tally
marks with the tip of the sword: how many new tremors, how many
distant rumbling noises that may mean another house had crumbled,
and how many attempts someone made to sneak into the neighborhood.
The marks were thirteen, nine, and—fortunately—zero.

His neck and back were stiff with exhaustion,
but he was sure he’d remained awake most of the night, that nothing
important had escaped his notice. The climbing, digging, and
running of the day before had taken a mighty toll on his body. If
he was going to be in the army, he was going to have to bulk up and
shape up. Dizzy with fatigue, he worried that this was how soldiers
felt every morning.

He hadn’t realized his eyes were closed until
he felt fingers on his hand prying away the sword.

Poe leaped to his feet, kicking an awkward
spray of gravel, and found himself wrestling for the hilt with
Lieutenant Colonel Shin.

“At ease, Private! I’m relieving you of
duty.”

“I wasn’t asleep, sir! I promise. I kept
watch all night.”

“I know, I know,” Shin assured him. “I was up
enough myself to see you doing your part. And I thank you, Private
Hili. Now I’m ordering you to sleep.”

He sheathed the sword and put a hand on Poe’s
shoulder. The weight of it nearly melted Poe into the ground.

“You’ll meet me in the village center after
midday meal, Hili,” Shin told him, “then we’ll put you back to
work. The men are on rotating shifts. I want a group of soldiers on
duty every hour patrolling and working. But everyone needs to rest,
or they’ll be of no help to the village. You’ll be able to sleep
well here. The sofa’s available,” he added with a smile.

“Thank you, sir. I’ll be there. Midday
meal.”

Poe staggered over to the now empty sofa and
sat uncertainly on it, wondering what position would keep it clean.
His body leaned to one side and he couldn’t resist the pull to lay
his head on the cushion. A moment later, or maybe it was an hour,
he smelled food and opened his eyes to see Mrs. Shin holding a
plate of steaming something.

“Is it a good morning, Poe?” she asked. “Try
these. My mother calls them craw-sants. She claims the vent in the
road is the perfect heating element. She has plans for today, so
you best return this evening to see what she’s cooked up.”

“Yes, Mrs. Shin. I saw her get up some time
ago and sneak into your kitchen.” Poe tried to smile.

“Yes, she’s quite back to normal again,
although I’m not sure she’ll be able to face Master Sergeant Zenos
anytime soon,” she said more to herself. “My mother loves a cooking
challenge. She just may well revolutionize the way everyone looks
at steam!”

Poe took a large bite of the twisted bread
which was surprisingly light.

“Pretty good, isn’t it?” Mrs. Shin said,
ignoring the crumbs on the cushion.

“Yes, ma’am,” he mumbled wearily.

“Poe, how about you sleep first, then we’ll
feed you later, hmm?”

Poe nodded and his eyes closed again. He
stretched his legs but was alarmed when he felt someone lifting
them up. He sat up quickly to see Mrs. Shin placing his feet on the
end of the sofa.

“Much more comfortable that way.” She patted
his knee kindly, ignoring the fact that his boots were dropping
dried mud on the cloth.

Poe lay back down and a small, thick blanket,
made of the same cloth as the overcoat he still wore, covered his
eyes.

“That will keep things dark for you,” he
heard a motherly voice say.

“Thank you,” he whispered as everything
became blissfully dark and still.

A blanket was placed on top of him, and every
last bit of pain slipped away. Not only that, but his worries and
dread seemed to fade as well. For the first time in too many years
he felt, accompanying the fatigue that was slowly engulfing him, a
sense of comfort, of depth, of . . . of lightness. He didn’t know
where it came from, but there was nothing else like it. Just as the
blanket on his face told him it was all right to rest, the feeling
in his mind assured him things would be different now.

Maybe the lightness was forgiveness. He’d
heard a rector talk about it once, and Lieutenant Colonel Shin
mentioned it a few times when he visited Poe.

It was a distinct sense of,
It will be all
right. You can make it right, right here.

He mumbled as he drifted to sleep, “It’s so
good to be home, Ma.”

 

Mahrree walked quickly away before anyone
could see her wiping the tears off her cheeks.

 

---

The dark figure walking up into the forest
that night looked around him nervously. Nothing was acting as it
should.

Things that used to bubble were now
spurting.

Things that spurted were now gushing.

Things that gushed were now quiet.

And areas that used to be quiet were now
emitting groans and smells that they never had before.

He was relieved to reach the warm spring
that, for the moment, mystifyingly ran cold. He sat on a log and
sighed heavily.

A few minutes later another body joined him.
“Is it as confused down there as it is up here?”

The figure nodded. “Nothing’s the same! You
may have to make a new map.”

“That’s what we thought,” said the other man,
dressed in green and brown mottled clothing. “Are you all right,
Shem?”

Shem nodded again. “Remarkable two days. The
devastation is terrible. Every house has been affected. Found sixty
dead the first day, another twenty-four dead today. Yesterday. I
don’t even know what time it is anymore.” He exhaled and rubbed his
eyes.

His companion patted him on the back. “As
long as you’re safe. Many people were wondering.”

“Oh, I’m safe, all right. So are the Shins.
Should be an interesting next few weeks, though.”

“Understood. How about we meet only if
something arises? I can’t imagine anything else will be happening
except cleaning up for a while. The whole northern world seems to
have been affected.”

“Sounds good,” Shem said, massaging his
bleary eyes again. He stood. “I’ve got to get more sleep before the
morning. Just tell everyone I didn’t suffer anything during the
land tremor other than surprise when a terrified private I just
finished giving a night tour of the forest to ran into my quarters
and jumped into my bunk with me.”

 

---

 

Joriana wasn’t as skittish tonight as she was
the evening before. Perhaps the fact that she hadn’t had more than
an hour’s sleep did something to steel her resolve, and make the
men standing in front of her recoil as her voice became shriller.
That was the only excuse the hardened officers could come up
with.

Scattered over the broad desk were maps,
detailed notes, and a hand that shakily made markings all over
them.

“So we can eliminate the old Dripping Stream
development and Zebra Eztates, along with the hat district—”

A long, low sigh caused her to raise her
head, and the piercing nature of her gaze made two captains and a
major take a cautionary step backward.

However, it had no effect on the colonel, the
commander of the garrison. “Mrs. Shin, I don’t know how many more
times we need to go over this. None of the reports has changed
since dinner time. He’s simply disappeared.”

Joriana stood her full height, impressive for
a woman, but nothing to the colonel. “Colonel Thorne,” she said
pointedly, “I don’t care if the city has been inspected upside down
and inside out. Something has happened to my husband—
your
High General—and I insist, no, I
order
that you continue
searching for him!”

Colonel Thorne had the audacity to scoff at a
woman in high distress. “You
order
me?”

The captains and the major had already
assumed placating stances, as if eager to rush out into the night
and continue their search, but Colonel Thorne merely folded his
arms and cocked his head.

In the corner of the room, silent until now,
sat a plump and overflowing woman, who barely squeezed into the
cushioned arm chair that contained her. She cleared her throat and
the colonel frowned at her.

“Qayin, please,” she said to her son-in-law.
“You know my husband has already insisted on another’s day
searching.”

Thorne blinked away from her and looked
steadily at Joriana. “I take my orders from General Cush who, as
pointed out, has already outlined search patterns for tomorrow. So
unless there’s anything else, Mrs. Shin?” he said in a manner that
suggested that at this late hour, the answer best be no.

Joriana tilted her head at him. “No, that is
all.”

After the men had filed out, the major
pausing to send an encouraging nod to Mrs. Shin, Joriana sagged
into her husband’s chair, her head in her hands.

Mrs. Cush struggled out of her chair and
rushed to her friend’s side.

“Where is he?” Joriana sobbed quietly. “Where
is he?”

 

---

 

Two men sat in the dark office of an unlit
building.

“So where is he?” Brisack said,
mystified.

Mal shrugged. “If I could answer that, so
many of my plans for the testing and trials of the Shin family
would be finalized. But as it is?” He shook his head,
perplexed.

Brisack rubbed his chin. “Odd to just vanish
like that.” He peered over at his companion. “You didn’t . . . you
didn’t, uh, issue any orders, did you?”

Mal scoffed. “I was about to ask you the same
thing, wondered if you were trying to get an unfair start on our
research by playing, ‘Where’s Relf Shin?’ By the way, did they ever
find that contestant?”

“Oh, yes,” Brisack droned. “Apparently he got
bored waiting to be found, downed some mead, and fell drunk into a
wagon. Woke up in Orchards with a broken leg to see an unfamiliar
woman who promptly punched him and demanded restitution for her
goat.”

Mal blinked. “What’s that supposed to
mean?”

Brisack rolled his eyes. “No one knows. I’ve
told them I will no longer take forensics requests for people
involved in those arena shows. In my opinion, these new contests
are a good way of eliminating those whom Nature would destroy
anyway. Let the idiots speed up the process all on their own. Not
only are they a waste of my time, but a waste of my mind.”

“I’m rather surprised you haven’t been asked
to help with the Shin situation.”

“Oh, I was. I did. But there’s absolutely no
evidence. I spent hours on it yesterday evening. Mrs. Shin showed
me everywhere her husband had been the day before the tremor. Said
they went to bed that night, she woke up to feel the bed swaying in
the tremor, but there was no Relf. His uniform was missing, as were
his boots, so he’d got up early and went somewhere, but there’s no
evidence of anything amiss.”

BOOK: The Mansions of Idumea (Book 3 Forest at the Edge series)
3.57Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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