Mera sighed, the heavy breath revealing both her fatigue and her dread. “I agree, but we have no choice. Vindrake has threatened not only Alora, but every citizen of Glaenshire, no matter how innocent.”
“I’ll gladly help you.” Alleraen watched Thalaena’s reaction from the corner of his eye. “That is, I’ll help you if my weapons master will grant permission for me to break from my duties as a Stone Clan warrior.”
Thalaena got that furious look he’d only seen her make once before, when someone had put bitters in her water cup. Truth be told, it was Alleraen who’d done it, but no one knew.
She mumbled something that would probably have melted the wax in his ears if he’d understood it.
“We have until dawn tomo
rrow.” Meravelle closed her eyes and looked almost like she’d fallen asleep where she sat.
“Mera?” Thalaena must have wondered the same thing.
“I’m sorry.” When she opened her eyes, they were glistening with tears. “I believe my grandfather has passed to the next life. But I’ll say goodbye to him tomorrow.”
She pushed to her feet, her body drooping like a withered plant. “Your name is Alleraen?”
“That’s correct.”
“Have you been to the other realm?”
“I have.”
“Good. For I haven’t the leisure to explain it. Especially since it makes no sense to me.”
He followed her out of the healing house, with Thalaena trailing behind looking miffed. Alleraen painted a serious expression on his face and bowed his head toward Thalaena.
“I hope you’ll forgive my previous outburst.”
“You’ve much to learn about discipline, Alleraen.” She placed her hands on her narrow hips, an action which emphasized the muscles in her shoulders. “The expedition to Serenshire may be cancelled. But if it does proceed, I may be forced to reconsider allowing you to participate.”
Something told him it wouldn’t be wise to argue that Alora could invite him on the trip as her uncle. Instead, he pressed his lips together and nodded.
Mera called out, surprisingly loud for such a small body. “Doc! Are you staying here or coming back with me?”
From atop the foundation, Doc arose from a kneeling position and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Wait, Mera! I’m coming! I need more supplies!”
Meravelle reached forward, pulled her hand back and stepped up into the air. Only when she offered her hand to Alleraen did he realize what she was doing.
“It’s a portal? Are you a gressor?”
“Yes, I am.” Though her hand was small, her grip was firm. “Until yesterday, I’d never encountered another with that gift. Now I’ve met two. And contrary to all I’ve gleaned from the archives, I’ve now seen a gressor who can create a new portal, a deed I believed could only be attributed to God.”
Doc trotted down to the portal entrance, accepting Mera’s hand to step inside the portal. Holding her hand between his, he spoke with a gentle voice. “Meravelle... I need to tell you—”
“My grandfather passed. Yes, I know.” Rapid blinks chased her tears away.
Doc patted her hand. “He said you’d know. But before he died, he gave me a message for you—he said you’d understand.”
She swiped at her face with her sleeve, leaving a sooty smear. “What did he say?”
“His words were this, ‘One could live a lonely life in the company of a thousand ancients.’”
**************
The day passed in a blur of pain and unconsciousness as Alora lay on the stony ground with her hands and feet still bound, her shoulders wrenched to the point of agony. When she was awake, she found it ironic to hear cheery birds singing in the nearby trees. Vindrake’s evil felt so overwhelming to Alora she thought it should sicken the entire forest.
Alora suspected her father secretly feared her, so intent was he on keeping her weak. Her food bowl disappeared, and her water bowl had a few spoonfuls at a time, barely enough to get her tongue wet. The blessing of her empty stomach was in not having anything to vomit when Vindrake came near.