Chapter Six
The Stranger in the Black Cloak
The air held the sweet aroma of flowers. A myriad of colors dotted the garden beds to either side of the stone path. Eramus glided his palm along a dark green hedge, and the leaves tickled the tips of his fingers. He passed several statues of birds with outstretched wings, their fierce gazes staring down at him as if he were prey. The intensity in their marble eyes made him shudder.
Somehow, the scene before him looked familiar—feltfamiliar— like a long lost memory. Was he dreaming?
Muffled voices sounded from the other side of the hedge, growing louder as footsteps approached the arch just a few yards in front of him. His eyes lingered on the space between the vine-covered stones until three burly men appeared. Their boisterous laughter made his stomach knot.
They passed through the structure and halted upon spotting him. One, whose red hair glistened with sweat, stared down at him with a malicious smirk. "Well, look what we have here! Little Eramus."
Eramus took a step back, his instincts screaming for him to run. But why? Who were these men, and why were their faces familiar?
"Careful, Whitmer," said another, placing his hand on the sheathed sword at his side. "You don't want to mess with the little devil. Might curse us."
Eramus balled his fists as the man's snicker echoed around him. Whitmer swatted the air. "What's he going to do? Even if he had magic, he's probably just like his old man—a coward. Look at his eyes. He's too terrified to even speak."
Whitmer lunged forward in mock assault. Eramus tripped over his own feet and stumbled to the ground. All three men laughed. "You see!" said Whitmer. "What did I tell you? Just like his father."
Eramus pushed himself from the stone pavers. "My father is not a coward!"
"Hah! Is that why he left you and your mother here?" Whitmer took three steps towards him, and his wide shadow encompassed Eramus. "He's a coward and a traitor. And you'll end up just like him."
The sensation that flowed through his veins was one he recognized. The familiar warmth spread throughout his body, but he held in the desire to unleash it. "He left to save us," he whispered. "You could never understand. He wasn't a coward or a traitor!"
"He abandoned you," said Whitmer. "Been hiding for eight years."
"That's not true!"
"He's afraid. Disgraced. He knows he can't show his face here."
Bright blue light surrounded Eramus's body and flowed away from him in all directions. All of his bottled emotion exploded with his power, and the energy wave sent Whitmer and the others flying backwards. Three bodies landed on the garden walkway.
Panic overtook him. Eramus launched forward, running as fast as his legs could carry him. He rounded a corner and crashed into something solid. Fingers gripped around his upper arms. Eramus stared up into dark, stern eyes. The jewels that adorned the man's elegant attire glistened in the sunlight.
"How long?"
Eramus jerked, attempting to dislodge the grip that held him in place. The man pulled him in close and tilted his head so that he was level with Eramus's face. "How long have you had magic?"
When Eramus remained silent, a wide grin stretched over the man's lips. "Come now, Eramus. You can tell your uncle. It will be our little secret."
His sinister laugh filled Eramus's ears. The man's body disintegrated into a swirl of black dust.
Eramus gasped, shooting upright in bed. His eyes darted over the familiar objects of his room enveloped in shadow. The nightmare had ended, but his breathing remained ragged. His shirt stuck to his sticky skin and beads of sweat rolled down his forehead.
What was all of that? Were those images…real?
Eramus weaved his fingers through his hair. He had no recollection of those men, but his gut told him he had once known them. Somewhere, deep in the corners of his mind, his memories waited to resurface, and tonight, one of them had. But what did it mean? Those men had accused his father of being a traitor. For all Eramus knew, it was the truth. And what of the other man, the one with the dark eyes and expensive clothing? His uncle?
He had always wanted to remember his past, but this small glimpse only left him with more questions, more frustration.
A smidgen of sunlight pierced through the shadows near his window. Eramus tugged on each of his leather boots and watched the sky illuminate, the black, starry curtain vanishing to reveal a shade of bright blue.
He devoured a slice of bread and a dark red apple. Evree had said she would go to the meadow this morning, but he didn't know how early she would make the short walk to the grassy field outside their village. The sooner he could leave the cottage, the better, even if it meant waiting. He'd wait all day to spend even a few minutes in her company.
With nothing left of his meal but crumbs, Eramus marched towards the door.
"Where are you going so early?"
