Cal
stepped onto a slab of granite flush with the ground and stopped. “Put her
down,” he instructed Nick. “We’re here.”
Nick
eased her onto her feet, leaving an arm at her waist to give her support. Her
leg throbbed, but she did her best to ignore it. She leaned against him,
balancing her weight on her good leg as she scanned the area. Tall grass
bloomed into weeds in front of them, its endless expansion broken only by the
occasional tree or rock.
“I
don’t see anything,” she said.
“You
will,” Cal assured her. He puckered his lips, whistling one long, high pitch
followed by two short, low ones, and then waited.
A
minute passed, then another. After a third had come and gone, a woman stood in
front of them, seemingly created from air. She paused for a minute. Her
jet-black hair danced along the breeze while she scanned their faces in the
thickening darkness. When she saw Cal, she approached them, a large smile
floating on top of full pink lips. Her smoke colored eyes twinkled in greeting.
Her emotions welcomed with joy. And love, Meaghan realized. She felt the same
love flowing from Cal.
The
woman took Nick’s hand and held it between her own. “You are welcome here,
Nick,” she said, her voice soft and melodic. “You won’t recognize me, but I
know you. I apprenticed under your mother when you were young. I’m Neiszhe.
It’s good to see you again.”
“Likewise,”
Nick said. He nodded and she returned the gesture before releasing his hand.
She
moved to Meaghan next, taking her hand in the same manner. “You’re hurt,” she
said. “I can feel the intensity of your pain, but it won’t last long. You’ll be
healed by morning.”
Meaghan
almost wept with relief at her promise. “Thank you.”
“It’s
my gift. It’s my pleasure to share it with you, though I’m afraid I don’t know
your name.”
“Meaghan.”
Neiszhe’s
eyes widened. Awe and respect emanated from her. “I apologize, my Lady. I
didn’t know. It’s an honor, a true honor.” She let go of Meaghan’s hand, then
took a step back and curtsied.
Confused,
but not wanting to be impolite, Meaghan moved to mimic the gesture, stopping
when Nick tightened his hand on her waist. “Don’t,” he whispered in her ear.
“If anyone bows to you, nod in return.” He loosened his grip. “I’ll explain later.
Don’t keep her waiting.”
Neiszhe
remained frozen in her curtsy and Meaghan took Nick’s advice, nodding to the
woman. Neiszhe offered another smile before straightening up and taking
Meaghan’s hand in hers. “You are welcome here, my Lady,” she said, and then moved
on to greet Cal with a kiss.
Meaghan
opened her mouth, intending to ask Nick for his explanation, but shock robbed
her of the words. In front of them, the field began to ripple. Ripples
dissolved into shimmers, blurring the landscape until the field no longer
existed.
In
its place, an entire village materialized.
S
TREET LIGHTS
illuminated their path as they threaded their way through the village along
packed dirt roads sprinkled with thin layers of gravel. Cal led the way, using
side streets whenever possible. Even though Meaghan did not see many people,
she sensed all of them, their emotions impossible to manage on top of her own
increasing pain. She focused on Nick’s power again, and then sighed in relief
when it worked to shut out their emotions almost as well as it had Cal’s.
Cal
managed to avoid all but a handful of villagers, but those people they
encountered welcomed him back with a wave and an eye of curiosity for the woman
in his arms. He responded to them, nodding or calling out a quick hello, but
did not stop.
The
village consisted of twenty or thirty houses that would have fit well in a quaint
New England town. Cheerful paint, clapboard siding, and wood shutters greeted
them from one and two story homes maintained with pride. Meticulous lawns and
bright flower gardens mimicked magazine photographs, creating a sense of cozy
warmth cities of steel and glass skyscrapers could never accomplish. In front
of some of the houses, small wood signs advertised shops. A tailor resided
across the street from a General Store. A grocer faced a carpenter. And near
the end of the village, they turned at a sign advertising medicines and herbs.
A
small stone path led them to the front door of a one-story cottage painted in
baby blue with white trim. They entered into the main living room of the house.
A plush tan couch and hardwood rocking chair offered inviting places to sit.
Blankets and pillows tossed on furniture added warmth and color. And shelves
lined with hard cover books showed varying interests in medical practices,
baking, history, and gardening. They passed from that room into the kitchen.
Cal set Meaghan down in a chair at the dining table before turning to a wood
cooking stove monopolizing one wall of the room. He picked up several logs from
a bin next to the stove.
“I’ll
light a fire,” he told Neiszhe. “It feels like it’ll be a cold night. Shall I assume
it’ll also be a long one?”
“I
believe it will be,” she responded. “When you’re through building the fire, can
you make Meaghan some jicab tea? I’m going to set up in the living room. If you
can bring her when she’s done drinking, I’d appreciate it.”
“Of
course,” he agreed and she left the room. Nick took a seat at the table
opposite Meaghan while Cal finished lighting a fire in the stove and put the
kettle on to boil.
Meaghan
closed her eyes, hoping the tea would not take long. The jicab root no longer
worked. She tried to focus on something other than the pain echoing through her
body, but had little success. Her mind flashed to her meeting with Neiszhe.
Nick’s explanation of the woman’s reaction would prove a good distraction, but
Meaghan doubted she had the energy for it. Instead, she focused on the next
question running through her head.
“How
do you buy things?” she blurted out, and then grimaced when Nick raised an
eyebrow at her. “I saw the shops,” she told him. “But I don’t know how commerce
works here. Do you have some sort of currency?”
“Currency?”
Cal asked, sitting down at the table with them. “What’s that?”
“Money,”
she told him.
Cal’s
blank stare was uncomprehending, and Nick chuckled beside him. “Money is pieces
of paper and metal discs,” he explained. “The people on Earth work for them and
then exchange them for what they need, like food.”
“Got
it.” Cal smiled. “So it’s like bartering.”
“Sort
of. They call it buying and selling. Someone who wants the product is buying
and someone giving it is selling,” Nick said. “And it’s required and not
optional. If they don’t have the money, they don’t get what they need, no
matter how much they need it.”
“Odd,”
Cal muttered, standing up when the kettle whistled. “I’m glad we don’t do that
here. I’d be in trouble. I’m not able to make enough spirit to get everything I
need.”
“So
what sort of system do you use?” Meaghan asked. “You have shops, so you must
have them for a reason.”
“They
aren’t shops,” Nick responded. “Though I can see how you would think that.
They’re houses, like Neiszhe’s. The owners put up signs so people can find what
they need. We don’t buy or sell things. We get them for free.”
Meaghan
frowned, considering what he had said. Money served the purpose of controlling
supply and demand and this system did not seem to have any similar controls
built into it. On top of that, she could not picture anyone working for free.
“Aren’t people unhappy?” she finally asked. “Without payment, don’t they feel
like slaves?”
“Not
at all,” Nick said. “What we do for work is natural to us. It extends from our
powers and using our powers to benefit society as a whole benefits us, too. A shoemaker
is gifted at making shoes, but not clothing, so he trades in a way. He gets the
clothes whenever he needs them and the seamstress gets her shoes whenever her
old ones wear out.”
“Then
how do you keep track?”
Cal
set a mug in front of her. Steam rose from it in curling tendrils and she
clasped her hands around it, absorbing the warmth.
“We
don’t,” Cal answered her question. “There’s no point. People don’t take what
they don’t need.” He sat back down and nodded toward her mug. “Drink your tea.”
She
raised it to her lips, blowing on it before taking a sip. It was all she could
do not to spit it out. Squirreling her face, she gagged down another sip before
continuing the conversation. “I suppose if you’ve been brought up to respect
that tradition, it could work. But if everything is free, when do you barter?”
“When
we have something rare someone else wants, such as decorative items—”
“Or
my spirits,” Cal interrupted.
“Right.”
Nick chuckled. “Exactly. And we barter when we’re in other kingdoms. Since we
aren’t giving back to those societies on a regular basis, we either exchange
goods or we perform services to make things even.”
“Kingdoms?”
Meaghan asked. “You mentioned a King before, but I thought he was a figurehead.
He’s not?”
Nick
shook his head. “A single family line has ruled this kingdom for well over a
thousand years.”
“No
kidding,” she muttered. She lifted her mug, taking another sip. “That seems
archaic to me.”
“Does
it?” Cal asked. He braced his hands on the table and leaned toward her. “I
wouldn’t be so quick to judge if I were you. What we have certainly works
better than what I’ve heard of your world. You have money which makes people
starve, gadgets which keep people distracted and in a hurry, and no stars to
look at during the night. Do you want us to turn into that?”
His
question hung heavy in the air and Meaghan realized too late how insulting her
words had sounded. She set her mug down.
“That’s
not how I meant it. Where I grew up, we overthrew a monarchy because it didn’t
keep the people’s interests in mind. A majority vote now determines who runs
the country. Despite how it appears to you, that type of government does work
best for us.”
“It
works best for
them
,” Nick corrected. He took her hand in his. “You
aren’t part of that world anymore, Meg. Here, the monarchy works best. Or at
least it did, and it will again.”
“Did?”
“The
royal family was overthrown, but when they were in charge, they were excellent
rulers. They took care of the people and they were well-loved.”
“By
everyone except Garon, a pig of a man who murdered the King and Queen,” Cal
interjected. “He has no head to rule except by his own whim and the kingdom has
suffered since.”
“Garon
was the royal advisor,” Nick explained, his voice matching the steel in Cal’s
tone. “And he was a Guardian. He may have declared himself King, but we aren’t
powerless to stop him. We didn’t need a democracy to wage war and we don’t need
one to overthrow him.”
“I
understand.” Meaghan shifted in her chair to direct her next question at Cal.
“You were the King’s Guardian at the time, weren’t you?” He nodded and she
covered his hand with hers. “That must have been difficult for you.”
“You
can tell,” he responded. He drew his eyes up and she thought she saw mist
coating them. “If you choose.”
She
dropped her hold on Nick’s power. Anger and pain washed over her with such
strength she held her breath. When she had felt enough, she forced an exhale, and
welcomed Nick’s power again.
“Your
pain is deep,” she said, “and your anger’s equally strong. Were you close to
Garon?”
“Yes.”
Cal stood and went to the stove. Picking up a poker, he opened the door to the
firebox and shifted the logs. “He was a close friend, or so I thought. In the
end, he cost me many of my real friends, and my first wife, Alisen.” He put the
poker away. “She was a member of the castle guard. The worst part is none of us
saw it coming.”
“I’m
sorry,” Meaghan whispered. “I truly am.”
“A
monarchy can be a good thing,” Cal told her, turning back around. “When the
right people are in charge. You’ll learn in time. For now,” he nodded toward
her cup, “drink. You’ll learn nothing if you aren’t healed.”
§
S
HE SCREAMED.
She did not mean to and she feared someone outside would be alarmed by the
noise, especially so late at night, but she could not help it. She kept it
stifled as long as she could and then it forced its way out of her, a cyclone
of power and velocity. It had been hours since they had started the healing
process, hours in which Neiszhe’s power had burned through her ankle, knitting
tendons and muscles back together. Meaghan understood the necessity of it, but
she could not control her own human reaction. Neiszhe’s power seared her to the
core. Each time the Healer forced more energy into Meaghan’s wound, pain
flashed again, fire upon fire, until she had no other choice. She screamed.
Nick
took her hand. He said nothing when she gripped him with such strength she felt
certain she had crushed his bones. He only held her as she cried.