Moon Man refused to answer.
“Do you have any more cryptic advice?” I asked.
He held out his hands. One toward Leif and the other to me.
Valek huffed in either amusement or annoyance, I couldn’t tell, but he said, “Looks like a family affair. I’ll be close by if you need me, love.”
I studied Leif. His reaction to the Story Weaver the last time we had met him had been one of fear. Now, he stepped forward and grabbed Moon Man’s hand, shooting me a look of stubborn determination.
“Let’s finish this,” Leif said, challenging me.
35
I SLID MY HAND INTO MOON Man’s. My world melted as the warm magic of the Story Weaver took control of my senses.
We traveled to the Illiais Jungle to the place Leif had hidden while watching Mogkan kidnap me over fourteen years ago. The three of us viewed the events through Leif’s eyes and felt his emotions. In essence, becoming him.
A mean approval that Yelena got what she deserved for not staying close to him spiked Leif’s heart. But when the strange man put her to sleep, and pulled his pack and sword from under a bush, sudden fear of getting taken by the man kept Leif in his hiding place. He stayed there long after the man had carried his sister away.
Moon Man manipulated the story’s thread for a moment, showing Leif and me what would have happened if Leif had tried to rescue me. The ring of steel rolled through the jungle as Mogkan pulled his sword from its scabbard and stabbed Leif in the heart, killing him. Remaining hidden had been a good decision.
The story then changed and focused on Perl and Esau’s despair and anger when Leif had finally told them that I was lost. Leif believed he would be in worse trouble if he had told them the truth and they knew he hadn’t done anything to stop the man. Leif had been convinced that the search parties would find the man and his sister. Already he felt jealous of the attention she would get for just being rescued.
When the search parties failed to find her, Leif began his own quest. He knew they lived in the jungle, keeping out of sight just to spite him. He had to find her, and maybe his mother and father would love him again.
As the years passed, his guilt drove him to attempt suicide, and, eventually, the guilt transformed into hatred. When she finally came back into their lives stinking of blood and of the north, he wanted to kill her. Especially when he saw for the first time in fourteen years the pure joy on his mother’s face.
Cahil’s ambush, while unexpected, gave Leif a receptive audience about the need to get rid of the northern spy. But watching her get hurt caused a small rip of concern in his black cloak of hate.
Her escape from Cahil was proof he had been right about her, but then she came back, insisting she wasn’t a spy and therefore would not run away like one. Roze then confirmed her claims, puzzling Leif.
His confusion and conflicting emotions only grew when he saw her try to help Tula. Why would she care about another? She hadn’t cared about him or how he suffered while she was gone. He wanted to keep hating her, but when she struggled to bring Tula back, he couldn’t bear the guilt if he stood by and did nothing again.
When they traveled to the plains and Story Weaver approached, Leif had known his sister would discover the truth about him. He ran, unable to face the accusations that would fill her eyes. But when he calmed, he thought, would the truth be that difficult for her? She weathered so much in Ixia. Perhaps she could overcome this hurdle, too.
But after she had returned from the plains, Leif knew it was impossible. Her anger and censure flamed on her skin. She didn’t want him or need him. Only his mother’s pleas that he help his sister made him seek her out.
Story Weaver let the strands of the tale fade. The three of us stood on that dark plain I remembered from my last encounter with Moon Man. His coloring matched a ray of moonlight. Leif glanced around with wonder.
“Why did Mother ask you to help me rescue Gelsi?” I asked Leif.
“She thought I could assist you in some way. Instead, I had tried to—”
“Kill me? You can join the ‘I Want to Kill Yelena Guild.’ I hear they have six members in good standing. Valek is president since he had wanted to kill me twice.” I smiled, but Leif stared at me with guilt in his eyes. “It wasn’t you. Ferde tapped into your memories and used them.”
“I did want to kill you before you helped Tula.” Leif hung his head.
“Don’t feel ashamed for having those feelings and those memories. What happened in the past can’t be changed, but they can be a guide for what happens in your future.”
Moon Man radiated approval. “We could make a Story Weaver out of you if you were not already a Soulfinder.” He flashed me a wide smile.
“Truly?” How many people would I need to hear it from before I believed it or felt it? Perhaps it would be best not to declare myself a Soulfinder and just be regular old Yelena.
Moon Man raised an eyebrow. “Come visit me when you are ready.”
Then the world spun and I shut my eyes against the feelings of vertigo. When they stopped, I opened them, finding myself back in the plains with Leif. Moon Man was talking to Valek.
I digested what happened on the stony plain. Leif had been in the process of untying himself. His road had smoothed when he made the decision to help me with Tula. So why had Moon Man asked me to help him? I looked for the Story Weaver, but he had disappeared.
Then the answer came to me, and, along with it, my own guilt. Without truly understanding Leif, I had treated him badly, holding the actions of an eight-year-old boy against a grown man and failing to see how he tried to amend them.
Leif watched me.
“How come they never schedule a New Beginnings feast when you really need to start over?” I asked.
Leif smiled at me. The first genuine one since I had returned from Ixia. It warmed me to the core of my soul.
“That’s okay. I don’t dance,” he said.
“You will,” I promised.
Valek cleared his throat. “Touching as this is, we need to go. Your Story Weaver is providing us with some soldiers to aid against Alea’s people. We’re to rendezvous with them at dawn. I take it your brother…”
“Leif.” I filled in.
“…is coming along?”
“Of course,” Leif said.
“No,” I said at the same time. “I don’t want you to get hurt. Mother wouldn’t like it.”
“And I wouldn’t be able to face her wrath if I didn’t stay and help.” Leif crossed his arms over his chest. His square jaw set into a stubborn line.
“Your mother sounds like a formidable woman,” Valek said into the silence.
“You have no idea,” Leif replied with a sigh.
“Well, if she’s anything like Yelena, my deepest sympathies,” Valek teased.
“Hey!”
Leif laughed and the tense moment dissipated.
Valek handed Leif his machete. “Do you know how to use it?”
“Of course. I chopped Yelena’s bow into firewood,” Leif joked.
“You took me by surprise. I didn’t want to hurt you,” I shot back.
Leif looked dubious.
“How about a rematch?”
“Anytime.”
Valek stepped between us. “I’m beginning to wish that you were an orphan, love. Can you both manage to focus on the task at hand without trying to catch up on fourteen years of sibling rivalry?”
“Yes,” we said in unison, properly chastised.
“Good. Then let’s go.”
“Where?” I asked.
“In keeping with his cryptic nature, all your Story Weaver said was, ‘The horses know where to go.’” Valek shrugged. “It’s certainly not a military strategy I would use, but I’ve learned that the south uses its own strategy. And, strangely enough, it works.”
The horses did know where to go, and, as the sun rose over the plains, we encountered a group of Sandseed soldiers on a rocky outcropping surrounded by tall grass. A
dozen men and six women dressed in leather armor and equipped with either scimitars or spears waited. They had painted red streaks on their faces and arms, creating an impressively fierce countenance.
There were no other horses. Valek and I jumped off Kiki and Leif dismounted Rusalka to join us. The two horses began to graze. I shivered in the cold morning air, feeling naked without my bow, wishing I had another weapon besides my switchblade.
Moon Man greeted us. He had dressed like his clansmen, but he was armed with his scimitar and a bow. The bow he held was no ordinary staff of ebony wood. It had been carved with symbols and animals, revealing a gold-colored wood under the black surface. And I felt that, if I could just stare at it long enough, the carvings may reveal a story. I shook my head, trying to stay focused on Moon Man’s words.