The Tale of Onora: The Boy and the Peddler of Death (14 page)

Dani, although honest, was unsure. “He has been summoned by the Faelen Tree.”

Ellia looked at Aithein. “To be summoned is a great honor, Namus. If Dani was sent to join you, it marks a new chapter of your life.”

Dani was jolted into alertness. “How did you know my name?”

Ellia calmly asserted her ability with a triumphant posture. “You look just like her.”

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D
ANI TRAILED AITHEIN AS he walked through the village. He was a quiet observer always taking in his surroundings. Sometimes his expression was wistful. Other than that, the masks he wore were good at concealing his emotions.

Aithein could not dematerialize like the other Amori. He was slower and slightly skittish. He’d never crossed The Great Barrier and didn’t know what it meant to be from the Shade. Dani tried to figure out how it was possible for Aithein to have Shadean blood. No matter how she dissected it, all paths led to the same place. It had something to do with the perverse power of The Trivium and the deeds of Woden Caliph.

Dani wondered what Aithein was thinking about. He kept to himself, but she knew there was an ocean of thoughts forming in his mind. She caught herself thinking of him as a half-breed stripling fraught with limited abilities and poor genetics.

She was disgusted with herself. She didn’t know whose prejudice thoughts she was thinking or how she could lose control of her mind so easily. Merely being in Caliphweald warped her views. She quickly adjusted and searched for the good in Aithein.

           
“Who is the man in your sleep?” Dani asked.

           
Aithein struggled quietly in frustration. “I don’t know.”

           
The sound of hard labor demanded their attention. An Amori boy with ebony skin and fluffy caramel hair struggled to move broken bedrock from a garden in front of Chako’s house. His fairy was as exhausted as he was.

           
He was a scrappy little fellow. “Toad warts!”

           
Aithein approached him. “Korlith?”

           
Korlith removed his cap and brushed the hair off of his sweaty brow. His amber eyes stood out from his dark mahogany skin. Dani thought of him as a twilight elf. It was another racist thought she had to chase away.

Korlith’s fairy flew up to Dani. “I’m Zylihn,” he thought to her. “Have you finally come for the Amori without a fairy?”

“I’m not sure,” Dani thought back.

Zylihn prodded Dani with a mischievous grin. “That he’s Amori or that you’ve come for him?”

Dani couldn’t mask her smirk. “Both.” She liked Zylihn. She could tell he had good character.

Korlith’s eyes opened wide as he saw Dani. He gasped. “Oh my! Is that? It is! It is! It bloody is!”

           
“She’s come to collect me,” Aithein said.

           
Korlith beamed. “We must celebrate!” But his excitement drained as he looked down at the broken bedrock. “But, not yet. I can’t right now.”

           
“Why are you toiling in Chako’s garden?” Aithein asked.

           
“He’s demanded that I move the stones out of it,” Korlith replied. His hands bled as he dropped a stone. “Argh, I cannot bear this abuse. I don’t understand why the faelen tree chose him. On top of that, he won’t let anyone in the meadow unless they have a sword and a shield. What Amori uses a sword and a shield?”

           
This was the third time Dani felt unsettled. To be warned about Chako was enough to raise her concern. She was willing to accept that social structures may be different in Caliphweald, but for a faelen tree to appoint such an unnatural person to be patriarch, it was completely uncharacteristic of Shadean nature.

           
Aithein picked up a medium-sized slab.

           
“What are you doing?” Korlith asked.

           
Aithein let his momentum help sling the slab at Chako’s house. It smashed against the wall and broke into pieces. Aithein flashed a grin at Korlith. “I’m moving the stones.”

Korlith clasped his head with both hands. “You’ll make Chako angry!”

Aithein grew fierce. “Tell that harvest-colored imp that it was me, that if he has anything to say, to voice his displeasure to the Bannitlarn Brothers. They’ll not be so kind as I.” He started to walk away. “Finish the job, Korlith, but let him know that if he does this to you again I shall burn his house down.”

Dani was startled by Aithein’s intensity. She tried not to judge him, but the boy had an incredible rage. Perhaps it was due to being terrorized every time he slept. She tried to appreciate what he was going through. She pretended she hadn’t been warned about the Amori boy who guarded the faelen tree. “Who is Chako?”

“He is a parasite,” Aithein replied. “He thinks we need him to protect us. But it is he who needs us. Our labors provide for him, not the other way around. I never had nightmares before he arrived.”

Dani recalled the warnings. “His arrival was recent?”

Aithein continued walking. “Xas.”

“If Chako is causing the nightmares, what is his value to the Faelen Tree?” Dani asked.

“What is my value to him?” Aithein responded.

“No one has spoken to the faelen tree lately,” Dani said. “Was I summoned to lure you to Chako?”

“Why would he need you to do that?” Aithein asked.

“To liberate him,” Dani responded. “Chako may be lying to the Amori to prevent you from visiting. What if you have been tasked to banish Chako?”

Aithein shrugged his shoulders. “It would lead to his death or mine.”

______________________________

A
ITHEIN AND DANI TRAVELLED through the village square. Dani could tell that Aithein was curious as to why crowds of Amori stood in line with their weapons. She waited for him to ask questions, waited for him to say something, anything. No words came.

Aithein remained silent and observant, stoic even. He kept his head down and walked away from the crowd, peering up only on occasion to make sure he wasn’t drawing attention.

As he walked by the water well, a playful feminine voice called out. “Aithein,” it said. “Up here!”

           
Dani looked up to see where the voice came from. She spiraled in ascent through the intersecting rope bridges, all the way up to the village watchtower. She drew a surprised look from Elma, a beautiful Amori girl with wavy hair that was braided in seductive pigtails.

“Oh, are you his fairy?” she asked. “That’s wonderful!”

           
“The Great Faelen Tree requests his audience,” Dani replied, her tone less than inviting.

           
Elma disregarded Dani. “Aithein,” she called. “Come up here and talk to me.”

           
Aithein wasted no time in running towards Ellia’s house to gain access to the bridges. Dani watched him from afar and realized that corralling him was a lost cause.

Aithein climbed the ladder on the side of the house and traversed bridges and steps. He made death-defying leaps from one bridge to another in order to create shortcuts. His athleticism impressed Dani. This was not the skittish child she saw moments ago.

           
Elma brandished a triumphant look. “Get used to me, fairy. Look at what he does for my attention.”

           
Dani stared at Elma’s proud eyes and her know-it-all smirk. “I see. Forgive me, I don’t know your name.”

           
“It’s Elma,” she said.

“Elma. Pretty name,” Dani said cordially.

“Thank you,” Elma replied.

“Don’t get used to him, Elma,” Dani warned. “A faelen tree doesn’t summon my kind to babysit Shadean playgrounds. Aithein may not have crossed The Great Barrier, but I guarantee he’s not confined to this Caliphian forest prison. Like you.”

Elma tried to brush off Dani’s words, but they struck her like an arrow to the breast. As Aithein ran up to them, she donned the mask of a smile. “Did you come all the way up here to see me?”

“Perhaps,” Aithein replied.

“Don’t be coy,” she said. “Your actions resonate more than your words.”

Aithein turned bashful. “I see you’ve met my fairy.”

“She’s lovely,” Elma replied. “Her ability to protect you has earned the capsheaf of my confidence.”

Her respectful tone caught Dani by surprise.

Elma continued, “You are a real man now, Aithein.”

“Thank you,” Aithein replied. “Why is everyone in a line down there? Are they selling their swords? Are they rationing food? Summer was bountiful.”

“Never mind all that hustle and bustle,” Elma responded. “You’ve no need to be there. Come.”

She took Aithein’s hand and led him to the edge of the tower. “Isn’t this view pretty?”

Aithein looked out into the golden haze that blended with the trees. He snuck a peek down below and let out a deep exhale in agreement. “Xas.”

“Sometimes I wonder what exists beyond that horizon,” Elma said.

“A cruel world,” Aithein replied with certainty.

“But does your heart know that beyond doubt?” Elma asked. “Have you seen it with your own eyes, touched it with your own hands, or breathed it through your own lungs?”

“Yes,” Aithein responded.

“How?” Elma asked.

Aithein looked out tragically at the horizon. “My dreams take me there.”

Elma felt Aithein’s grip tighten. She caressed it with her thumb till it relaxed. “You leave the forest in your dreams?”

Aithein nodded shamefully.

“But if we leave the forest we’ll die,” Elma said.

“What if The Great Faelen Tree tells me to leave?” Aithein asked.

Elma looked up at Dani. She realized that Dani was right.

“I believe that The Great Faelen Tree would never ask you to do something that you couldn’t accomplish,” she said. “I believe Dani was sent to protect you. If the outside world is full of darkness, then she shall be your light from the forest.”

______________________________

A
SOOTHING MELODY DRIFTED through the sound of crackling fire and howling wind. The man sat by the fire, playing his legendary xun, one of the keys he used to unlock the secrets of the universe.

The boy awoke to see a plate of artisan cheese resting on the table in front of him, surrounded by crostini, mustard seeds, dried apricots and cherries, assorted berries, toasted almonds, and a loaf of braided bread that was rich with eggs and butter. Steam rose out of the loaf and released a scent of lemon, nutmeg, and hot raisins.

The man’s fingers moved wildly, bending the music to his will. His soul mingled in another dimension as he played to his heart’s desire. As the melody descended in tone and pace, he allowed the notes to flourish wholly, until at long last, he played the final one. He noticed the boy had risen and was intently watching him. He felt a little embarrassed that he got carried away in the music, but he shook it off and tried to be hard-arsed again.

“Where did you learn to play like that?” the boy asked.

“A girl from my childhood taught me,” he replied. “She made me my first one.” He motioned up to the wooden xun on the mount above the fireplace.

“Would you teach me to play?” the boy asked.

“If it pleases you,” the man responded.

“It does,” the boy said.

           
The man gave a stern nod. “Eat. You’ll need it where you’re going.”

           
The boy sat up and stared at the meal. He picked up a small knife and cut through a piece of warm, soft cheese with a rind of white mold. He spread it over a crostini and bit into the wonderful contrast of soft crunch and buttery deliciousness.

           
The man broke a piece of bread and dipped it into a jar of honey. He scattered some fruits and nuts on his plate and rolled the bread over them until he was satisfied with the variety that stuck to it. He crammed the tasty morsel into his mouth and chewed voraciously, his cheeks stuffed like a pack rat. He noticed the boy staring at him again and paused his chomping.

           
The boy laughed, but caught himself. He sniffled in uncertainty, a nervous tick.

“What?” the man asked with a mouth full of food.

The boy didn’t want to be impolite. He shook his head. “Nothing. It’s amazing.”

“I forgot to tell you,” the man responded. “I eat like pig, drink like a corsair, and wail songs like a crooner. This is a house of merriment. If you’re going to be a part of this family, you’ll have to cast your inhibitions aside.”

Afterword

I
WOULD LIKE TO dedicate this book to my mom,
Katie
, who created me and raised me to be the man I am. She always treated me like an individual and talked to me like I was my own person and not her possession. It was her hard work that made this possible, not mine. All I had to do is show up. She paid the inner cost so that I may have the means to write to you.

To
Fallon
, my wonderful, amazing editor who turns tin cans into gold, my alchemist.