Rising From the Ashes: The Chronicles of Caymin (25 page)

“Then I want you to have it. To remember me.”

“I would never forget you,” Caymin said. She held out the stone, strung on a braided leather cord. “For you. I enchanted it with a protection spell, so what happened to Fergus last moon cannot happen to you tonight. If an enemy approaches, it will grow warm.”

Méav took it and put it over her head. She held the stone so that it caught the light, glowing a deep green. “Jade. Thank you.” She tucked it inside her tunic and pressed it to her heart. “I’ll keep it with me always.” She took the knife from Caymin, murmuring words as she moved her hand in a circle over it, then handed it back. “I told you before I felt sure we’d meet again. Last moon, during our first trials, I saw you. We were fighting side by side. I don’t know what it means and I don’t know where I’ll be after tonight, but if you should ever need me, I charmed the knife to point in my direction. Just hold it in your palm and say my name, and it will show you the way.”

Caymin stared at her in awe. “Thank you.”

Méav gave her shoulder a squeeze as Ronan walked in their direction. “Take care, little badger.”

As darkness fell, and the three headed into the forest for their trials, it seemed all the forest held its breath. The apprentices and the elders gathered together in the village where the main fire burned brightly.

“We’ll all spend the night in the meetinghouse,” Ivar said, looking around.

No one needed to ask why. Gai lowered his head as he felt the stares of the others aimed in his direction. Caymin moved to sit beside him at the fire as they ate. Neela distracted them with songs played on her harp.

Above them, the moon shone bright and round in her fullness. Caymin felt small tremors of magic – in the air, in the earth. She saw Enat smile in her direction and knew she felt the same.

As always, she felt Péist, hunting in the night. She reached out.

“The three are out again tonight, being tested. I do not know where they will be. Stay safe and stay hidden.”

Though she felt certain none of them would do him harm, she knew it had been she and Péist that Fergus had seen at Samhain, and that Fergus had followed Péist, thinking he would lead him to his next trial. Whoever had attacked Fergus had likely been following Péist as well.

The fire burned low, and they all moved into the meetinghouse to bed down for the night. Enat closed the door, placing a charm on it to keep it sealed.

“But what if I have to get up in the night?” Diarmit asked.

Ivar glared at him. “That would not be advisable on this night.”

Diarmit nodded and lay down, making himself as comfortable as he could, while the others did likewise.

Caymin wrapped Enat’s old cloak around her, glad she had boots to keep her feet warm.

She slept fitfully, waking often to the restless turnings and snores from the others before she drifted off again.

When daylight broke, she lay there. No more stirrings of magic came to her and she knew the three were gone. She touched the knife lying beside her and wondered if Méav was right, that they would meet again one day.

Enat woke and Caymin sat. Around them, the others slept on. Enat got up to remove the charm from the door and gestured to her to follow.

Outside, they walked several paces from the meetinghouse before Enat said, “We must check on something. I should have thought of it before.”

They stopped at the latrine first, and then Enat led Caymin deep into the forest.

“They all won their staffs last night, did they not?”

Enat smiled. “They did. The only time we take wood from live trees. Upon passing their trials, they each would have been led by wood sprites to a tree willing to give a branch for the making of a staff. It is a most moving rite of passage.”

Caymin limped along beside her. “Where are we going?”

“To Timmin’s cottage. I should have gone as soon as he revealed his true intent toward you and Péist.”

“What do you expect to find?”

“We’ll know when we get there.”

It seemed they walked a long time. Caymin’s stomach was growling with hunger by the time they approached a stone cottage, so covered in moss and ivy that it almost disappeared. Enat slowed and raised her hands, as if pressing on an invisible wall.

“What do you feel?” Caymin asked in a whisper.

“Just as I expected, Timmin guarded this place with magic.” Enat moved sideways, still pressing with her hands. She walked all the way around the cottage, eventually coming back to where Caymin stood waiting.

“The protection is complete,” Enat said, sounding relieved. “I thought perhaps whoever attacked Fergus might have found a way through, but the most I can detect is that someone tried to get in here.” She pointed to a place where Caymin could now see that the leaves and dirt had been disturbed.

“Stand behind me,” Enat said as she stepped forward, her hands raised once more. Her lips moved as she murmured.

Caymin felt a surge of power pushing back against Enat’s magic, and then a sudden yielding.

“Here. We can get through here.”

Caymin followed Enat through a gap in the charmed protections placed around the cottage. Cautiously, Enat pushed the door open, standing back as if she expected something to pounce out at them. When all remained quiet, she stepped inside.

“He thought no one would get through the outer protections,” Enat said as Caymin entered after her.

With a small gasp, she looked around at the remnants of Timmin’s life here. Arranged on a table with three oil lamps were several scrolls and books, some of them lying open. Even before she stepped to the table, she could see that they all had to do with dragons.

“He knew,” she said, looking at Enat. “Even before he met Péist, he knew what he was.”

Enat nodded. “He did. And he wanted to use him.” She leaned over a scroll. “This is the story of an ancient mage who once ruled this entire land, he and his dragon. This was the cause of the last great dragon war.”

Caymin saw something under one of the scrolls and picked it up. “Enat.”

Enat turned to her.

“This is the brooch the northman wore.” She held up the silver medallion, worked with its design of a dragon. “How? I thought you and the others took him…?”

“We did.” Enat stared at the medallion. “We took him to a larger town, closer to the sea.” She paused. “But we scattered when we got back, each going in a different direction to make sure no one had entered the forest while we were gone.

She reached out and took the brooch from Caymin. “The northman was wearing this the last time I saw him.”

They stared at each other for a long moment before Enat turned to look around. She wandered around the cottage. Caymin stepped over to an array of stones and crystals lying on a table.

“Don’t touch those!”

Enat came to her and suspended her hands over them for a moment. She gathered them up, taking care to use a cloth to handle them. “I think we should take those as well,” she said, pointing to the books and scrolls. “We don’t need anyone else learning what it was Timmin was after.”

“You do not think he told anyone else?”

Enat shook her head. “Oh no. He wouldn’t have wanted to share what he knew. He wanted to have Péist to himself.”

Caymin collected the books, tucking them and the scrolls into a bag she found in a corner. “I have been thinking that the person who attacked Fergus at Samhain knew about Péist.”

“I have thought the same thing,” Enat said. “I still don’t think it was Timmin, but it frightens me that someone else, someone living among us, knows what Péist is and is so willing to hurt someone else to get to him.”

Caymin looked at her. “You think it is one of the elders or apprentices?”

“We’ve detected no other people within the forest this past moon. It cannot be a stranger. We would have felt it. It can only be one of us.”

“But who? Gai?”

“Gai has not acted honorably, and I know others would suspect him.”

“You do not.”

“Nor, I think, do you.” Enat studied Caymin. “You befriended him when the others turned from him.”

“I felt sorry for him. He told me why he stole into the forest at Samhain.”

“His father?” Enat smiled when Caymin gaped at her. “I know he feels duty-bound to become what his father wishes.” Her expression sobered. “But if not Gai, then who?”

CHAPTER 16

Unexpected Tidings

W
ith the three eldest apprentices gone, the studies for the younger resumed in earnest. Ivar, Neela and Enat pushed them harder than ever.

Winter had settled in hard and cold, and Caymin often wished she were tucked snugly in a nice, warm sett with her clan, sleeping most of the winter away. Enat gave her a heavy wool tunic, but still she was hesitant to leave the comfort of the fire.

She huddled close to the flames she had conjured under her cauldron. The others did likewise where Enat had them gathered in the meetinghouse, teaching them to make a potion to staunch bleeding.

“The more you know about healing,” she told them, “the more welcome you will be in any village you visit. You will not be working the land or learning a trade like most others. Some learn a craft such as metalworking, like Ivar did. For most of you, magic is your craft, and you must be versatile in many skills to make yourself as useful as possible.”

She went from one to the other, watching as they mixed the ingredients for the potion.

“You added three crushed beetles instead of two,” she said to Diarmit, whose potion had become thick and foul-smelling. She moved on to Daina and Cíana, dipping a spoon into their cauldrons. “Very good.”

She came over to Gai and Caymin, who were working side by side. She leaned over Gai’s cauldron as he stirred it. “This is perfect. Nicely done.”

Gai looked up at her unexpected praise. “Thank you.”

Caymin sat back as Enat spooned some of her potion, confident that she would win the same words of praise. She and Gai had followed the formula for the potion, step for step. Hers was the same pale yellow as his, the same thickness, so she felt a sharp sting of disappointment when Enat only said, “This will do.”

She stared at Enat’s back as she walked away. She carefully bottled some of her potion, sealing the stopper before cleaning the cauldron. Enat hadn’t actually dismissed them, but she left to return to the cottage while the others were still chatting as they cleaned up.

She flicked an irritated hand and magically stoked the fire, taking some satisfaction in knowing Enat would frown at such a frivolous use of power. She was reading one of Timmin’s books on dragons when Enat came in. She didn’t look up.

Enat plucked the kettle off the hook and poured two cups of tea. She set one cup next to Caymin who remained silent.

“A blazing fire,” Enat said. “Nice and warm.”

Still, Caymin said nothing.

Enat sat back and sipped her tea.

Caymin’s gaze was glued to the page in front of her, but she was not reading the words.

“You’re angry because I praised Gai and didn’t praise you.”

Caymin sat stubbornly mute.

“Did you make mistakes with your potion?”

Caymin’s head snapped up. “No.”

“Did you follow the correct formula?”

“Yes.”

“So, your potion was perfect and you knew it.”

Caymin frowned. “Yes.”

“Then why did you need me to say it?”

Caymin opened her mouth but then closed it.

Enat lowered her cup and smiled. “When you first came here, you doubted that you belonged because you hadn’t been raised with other humans. You felt out of place. Despite that, you have proved yourself, again and again. Gai arrived also needing to prove himself, but for very different reasons. Gai has never known love or approval, not from his father or his brother. He speaks as if he does not need those things, but inside, he craves them more than anything. You know when you have done well, whether I say it or no. Gai does not. While he pushes people away, what he really desires is to be close.”

Caymin bit her lip, thinking about what Enat had said.

“Lately, I’ve seen you make an effort to talk to Gai, spend time with him when the others turned from him. Why have you done that?”