A group of children sat on a blanket on the ground, pillows scattered around them. Two young ones chattered happily as an older girl settled in front of them. A young teen boy walked over to join them. Interestingly, most of the children he’d seen thus far were around Brenna’s age or older, in their young teens. Was that typical?
He was beginning to wish he hadn’t shut down the conversation when Celina had tried to explain more in depth about magic on their ride to the Refugee Center.
Rodric sat quietly, trying not to disturb the children. The little ones looked over at him with varying degrees of interest but turned back to their story time. The older girl began to tell a familiar fable about the unlikely friendship between a little snow osa and a big ice leopard that Rodric had heard in his own youth—or at least, the forest version of the wintery tale. He didn’t remember it quite like this though.
Attention riveted, he watched in awe as the young storyteller moved her hands in an intricate sweeping pattern as if she was painting. Images, clear as pictures on a storybook page, colored the air in front of her.
“One day, a little white osa was out playing…” Images appeared in a visual depiction of the girl’s words, and a small furry osa with a long, fluffy tail scampered through the falling snow in front of the audience. She continued, weaving the visual story as she went. “… but then a storm appeared, blowing icy wind through the trees and frightening the little lost osa.”
The teen boy gave a quick flick of his wrist and suddenly the almost nonexistent wind whipped into a frenzy, causing leaves and debris to swirl around the images in a sudden storm. A tingling sensation crept up Rodric’s spine and caused his heart to stutter.
Magic.He shouldn’t have been surprised, but knowing these children had magic and seeing it was altogether different. The little ones squealed with laughter as the wind tugged their hair, twirling around and between them before dying down again.
Heart racing wildly, he observed this unique version of story time as the older children continued. Watching them move their hands to such great effect, he absently wondered what magic the other children in the camp had, and how they had come to be here. These in front of him seemed happy and relaxed, not as if they’d just been through a kidnapping and rescue. So, maybe not all of them came via terrible circumstances? Or these had just been here a while. But then, why were there so manysinglechildren? That was deeply unsettling.
“Look! Look what I found on our walk!” a small voice yelled excitedly. A little blonde head zoomed past him toward the story zone, foot catching on a pillow that had gotten away from the group.
Rodric was up and moving instantly, years of maneuvering to catch his daredevil soul-daughter mid-stunt taking over. Catching her with an arm under her waist just before she hit the ground, he righted her slowly so as not to drop her. Crouching, he touched her head gently to make sure she was stable and to check if she was injured.
“Easy now, you’re alright,” he said quietly, not wanting to scare her.
She gasped, scrambling away from him, nearly tripping over the same pillow. Fighting the urge to steady her, he let her go, sensing that fear was a bigger threat than a fall this time.
“What’s going on?” An older boy, nearly a man, with the same white-blond hair, stormed over and picked up what had to be his younger sister, glaring at Rodric as he did so.
Surprisingly, the storyteller spoke up before he could. “Maisie ran in and tripped on the pillow. He caught her before she fell but then she got scared.”
Resignation and exhaustion replaced anger on the young man’s face. He kissed the little girl on the head and rubbed her back. “You’re safe, Maisie, remember? No one is going to hurt you here.”
Rodric didn’t like the implication or the multicolored bruises he noticed on the little girl’s arms where she clutched her brother. Shifting his gaze, he noticed that the young man had a deep, still-healing cut on his neck running into his collarbone, old bruising around his eye, and a wealth of more recent bruising and cuts on his wrists. And that was only what he could see.
A sick feeling formed in his gut. These must be newcomers, obviously rescued from a horrible situation. Although her panic had eased, the little girl was ghostly pale as she observed him warily from the safety of her brother’s arms, eyes big with fear.
The need to say something to alleviate the tension filled him. No child should have to feel unsafe. “I’m sorry, little one. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“You look like them. Like the ones who took us,” she whispered.
Shock and a tinge of horror held Rodric still. He was a big rough hunter who spent more time in the woods than with people. Was it just because his features were Eldrin? Or was it something else, something about his movements. Would these children be afraid of any non-Calderran warrior?
The young man’s jaw hardened, but he didn’t deny the words. He pulled the little girl closer and hugged her tightly. “Come on, let’s go. Miss Lydia wants everyone inside for lessons.” Nodding warily at Rodric, he ushered all the children into the orphanage.
An old feeling swelled in his chest as his emotions grew rapidly, near exploding. Magic led to pain, danger. The truth rang in his head. He wanted to get on Zora and run. Escape the overwhelming sensations trying to pull him under. Instead, he staggered back, leaning against the wall of the building for security. Dropping his head back, he breathed deeply, trying to control the maelstrom raging inside him.
Like them.The whispered words haunted his mind.The ones who took us. If that didn’t wrench his soul… He shoved one hand into his hair to grip his head as the weight of everything assaulted him. Closing his eyes didn’t stop it, only intensified the sound of the girl’s voice in his head.
A sharp slice of air had him alerted him just before a sharpened blade appeared at his throat. “Who are you and what are you doing here?” A huge warrior stared at him.
Kavesh.He was way more messed up by the episode in the orphanage than he wanted to admit if he could be surprised by this broad-shouldered beast. Deadly serious intent clear, the warrior hovered on the verge of movement yet in complete stillness. A feat Rodric respected as a hunter but was thoroughly aggravated by when it was directed at him.
“Lord Rodric Velton. Of Eldridge.” There was only one thing, one person, who could get him out of this. He took a deep breath, speaking on the exhale to ensure he sounded utterly calm. “I’m here with Lady Celina. She’ll be back in a moment.”
The warrior’s eyes narrowed to an even colder blue. “No way she’s here. Not after last night. Try again.”
Last night… That meant this warrior at least knew who Celina was, probably knew about the situation with her brother. Rodric was growing increasingly certain that this was the person they’d come to see, but on the off chance he wasn’t… “Look. I know I’m not supposed to be on site, but she needed to speak with Commander Galen and I was already with her, so we came together.”
“Go find Celina,ifshe’s here.” Glacier Eyes crisply gave orders to someone outside of Rodric’s sightline. “I’ll wait with ourfriend.”
Lovely.He eyed the warrior cautiously until he finally retracted his weapon and stepped back, giving Rodric a semblance of freedom and some breathing room.Semblancebeing the key word. He had no doubt that the dangerous beast guarding him had complete control of the situation.
