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“It’s only been about two minutes,” Uncle Charles answered, checking his wrist jewelry, a device he called a watch. It seemed a silly name to Kaevin, as the object had no power to see or observe, but he kept his opinion to himself.
The back door slammed open and Kaevin started, surprised to find Jireo had already returned, bending over and panting for breath. He must have run all the way there and back.
“Did you find them?” Kaevin asked, already knowing the answer, since Jireo had come back alone.
Jireo straightened, shaking his head with a strange wide-eyed look on his face.
“There’s nothing we can do but wait,” Uncle Charles said, although he stood up and began to pace. “We don’t have any reason to think she ran into any kind of trouble... other than dealing with a stubborn boy who can’t stand losing a game.”
Jireo shuffled to Kaevin’s side, still laboring to breathe. “We have reason to fear now. I didn’t even reach the barn before I sensed it.” He grasped Kaevin’s arm, his jaw tight as he spoke in a strained voice. “Kaevin, your life is in danger.”
Kaevin gulped a painful lump of air, blood pounding in his ears. Because he and Jireo had performed a defender bond ritual as children, not realizing the permanent repercussions, both could sense when the other faced imminent danger and were compelled to defend each other at all costs. A threat to Kaevin’s life could only mean one thing—Alora must be in peril.
And he was powerless to help her unless she transported him to her or transported herself back. Please, Alora. Why are you delaying? We talked about this.
“Markaeus can’t have gone far,” Charles remarked. “I don’t understand how they could be in danger.”
“I can’t explain it, but I know it to be true,” Jireo answered, tightening his grip almost to the point of pain. “And if she happens to transport Kaevin, I won’t allow him to go without me.”
The blood appeared to drain from Charles’ face as he looked upward. “It’s happening again. Dear Lord, I thought she was safe here.” He ran his fingers through his close-cropped hair, still thick, though time had woven much silver into the dark brown strands. “I know I can’t go with you and overload Alora’s transport. She has to bring all of you back. I’m trusting you with her life, Kaevin.”
“I’ll save her... if she’ll only give me the opportunity.” He failed to hide the exasperation in his voice.
“I’ll do what I can for you,” said Charles, disappearing down the hallway.
“If I find her alive, I’m never letting go of her hand again, as long as we live,” Kaevin declared.
Jireo squeezed his arm. “Kaevin, you have your transport weapons at the ready.”
“I always carry these,” said Kaevin, indicating four sheathed ceramic blades in his pockets.
“I’m prepared, as well.” Jireo displayed two similar knives, linking elbows with Kaevin to be certain he would transport along with him if Alora used her gift.
“Take these with you.” Charles clomped back into the room. In his hands he carried two leather belts, each of which held two scabbards with knives. Kaevin recognized the special blades by their bright blue corded handles. The weapon belts were soon tied about their hips.
“Thank you, Charles.” Jireo patted his belt and sent an encouraging smile toward the man who no longer bothered to hide his anxiety.
“I know you haven’t practiced with them much,” said Charles, “but these new titanium knives with the tungsten carbide edges ought to be more effective in fighting, especially if you have to throw them.”
Kaevin craned his chin down, studying the weapons hanging from his belt. “It’s still difficult to believe that one can transport with a metal blade, though I’ve seen it happen with my own eyes. I’m grateful to have these weapons made of transport metal.”
“Unfortunately, we’re forever indebted to Steven for the discovery.” Charles’ lips pursed like he’d bitten into sour fruit.
Kaevin understood Charles’ reticence in dealing with Wesley’s older brother, for he was excitable and unpredictable. But as he also seemed to be gifted with wisdom, Kaevin had resigned to Steven’s interference. Fortunately for now, the curious young man had returned to some place named Australia, where he was busy acquiring further wisdom. In a battle, Kaevin much preferred Wesley and his father Brian Franks, both of whom were proven assets.
Charles shook his head. “It’s unfortunate, because Steven’s insisting he be allowed to visit Laegenshire in payment of that debt.”
“I would agree—that doesn’t seem wise...” Kaevin began. But a fierce terror gripped his chest, and his knees went weak, with only Jireo’s tight grasp on his arm keeping him afoot. His words came out in breathy gasps.
“It’s Alora. She’s really frightened of something... or someone.”
~2~
Alora blinked, trying to make sense of her surroundings. She was inside a hut the size of her bedroom, with straw-colored walls of rough texture and a dirt floor. One open window provided the only light in the dark and dingy hut—a single room as far as she could tell. The warm, humid breeze was shocking compared to the cool Montana air she’d just left. Sparsely furnished, the room contained three stools, a wooden table and, in the corner, a chamber pot, which reeked as if it hadn’t been emptied in a while.
As her eyes adjusted she spotted Markaeus, kneeling on the floor, tugging on the arm of a rather feeble-looking man with wispy gray hair, who lay on a sleeping platform built against the wall, covered in a blanket despite the oppressive heat.
She’d expected to find Markaeus in the barn or maybe in the basement or even a closet. The brat had figured out he could take a wire coat hanger apart, twisting it around his waist to prevent Alora from transporting him. At least once a day, he would hide from them, and considered it a victory if she had to transport to find him.
