Chapter 36
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
The Order had mentioned the rifts were worsening. Her papa clearly pursued them across the Emperium, but it was another thing to see it for herself. That gremlin didn’t just poof in the middle of Seattle. It needed a door to begin with. It had crossed through a tear like this one.
“So, ye found one.”
Pen flaring into a sword, Lia spun to face the speaker—only to find nothing but whispering leaves.
“Show yourself,” she demanded, heart pounding.
“Aye, I will. Put the light out. I hate being out during the day as it stands.”
Warily assessing her surroundings, Lia willed the sword back into a pen. As the light dimmed, the leaves bent and gave form—no, a creature had stepped out, his green skin blending with the foliage. How long had he—Lia assumed it was “he” by the voice—been watching her?
He was like the gremlin, with large bat-like ears so thin sunlight shone through the membrane. But he was taller, half her height, with a significant under-bite and bulbous eyes to match.
A troll, no doubt. Albeit a small, goblin-like one.
“What did I find?” Lia asked, seeking confirmation. Who would know she would be here, stumble upon something like this? Then, it clicked. “Fee sent you.”
“Aye, the pretty-eyed one. No-nonsense too, made sure I stayed here until I found ye. Well, until ye found me.” The troll wiped his hooked nose on the brown smock he wore. He held out his hand. “Call me Murdoc.”
Lia tried not to gag at the sulfuric odor of rotten eggs as she shook his hand.
“Lia. So, I got dropped here for more than just a solo trip.” Why wasn’t she surprised?
Fee had probably plopped Lia so far away to encourage her sense of self-preservation.
Lia didn’t know if she wanted to thank the guardian or throttle her.
“Why are you here?” Lia raised a brow. “No offense.”
“She wanted me to show ye that this is not the beginning,” the troll replied. “It’s been happening—”
“I knew this. Why couldn’t she tell me this herself?”
“Because the Order didna want ye to know. These little rips are popping up and not just here—it’s only a matter o’ time before they’re ev’rywhere.” The troll eyed her shrewdly. “I dinna think ye understand. This here hidey-hole appeared here when me mam was a girl.”
Lia suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. “And how old is your mother?” These trolls could breed like rabbits for all she knew.
A smug grin splintered his warty face. “She only looks five and thirty, but is nearing her fiftieth season.”
Fifty years.
A sinking feeling filled her gut. If she had to go through some backwoods troll to show Lia the tears, it was because Fee didn’t feel it was safe to tell Lia herself.
Not that Lia blamed her. It wasn’t the past three years at all, but decades.
And the old tears were not only getting worse, new ones were ripping open.
“Has anything ever come through?”
Thankfully, the troll shook his head. “Me mam said she remembers when it was no bigger than her fist. A sparkly turn of the light was all it was. We paid it little mind. But then more appeared in the trees, in the hills. And this one, o’er the last few summers, has gotten bigger at a far faster pace.
We do well to steer clear, but more of the land is falling to ’em. ”
The hum from the tear reverberated in her ears. It sang to her. “Come,” it seemed to whisper.
Lia shook herself, managing a strained smile. “Please consider your message received.”
Bowing so his nose whispered against the grass, the troll straightened. He was partly through the leaves when he turned back, assessing her. “Ye remind me of someone I saw not too long ago. He had yer eyes. Bit o’ the hair, too, albeit more silver.”
Lia’s breath caught.
Julian told me not long ago that Vilentia is lovely this time of year, Fee had said.
“Tried to get us all to migrate away from the worst of the tears. Helped another troll not even a moon ago,” he continued on.
“Stuck his finger in the shimmer—singed it clean off! The old geezer whisked him away, and when Snerglick returned, he had a fancy wooden digit instead. Kept blathering about oceans with stars and a giant, none like found in these parts.” The troll sighed, shrugging his shoulders.
“I’d hate to see the blithering mess he’d become if he’d lost anything important! ” With a saucy wink, he disappeared.
Lia sank onto an exposed root, the knowledge pressing on her.
Papa had been here. Not a moon ago—a month? That would make his visit here just before he died. And if he’d spoken to Murdoc, her papa had learned the truth. The rifts had been growing for at least fifty years. And not just growing—multiplying.
Murdoc had said the land was…falling to them. Would there be a point where these tears ripped worlds apart in their entirety?
But her papa had helped, been here.
Been here, breathing this air, just before his death.
Something else clicked into place. Murdoc’s story of his injured friend reminded Lia of Veera’s comment at the Order meeting about Kayce being in one piece.
Adrian had explained that creations got burned—maimed—when they touched a tear after the First Rift.
It made her sick to wonder what could have happened to Kayce if he had stumbled through one without her.
But how were creations like the gremlin and the dragon coming to Earth unscathed? She wracked her brain, recalling each in unsettling detail. Neither had born an injury, both frighteningly whole like—
Lia choked on a gasp. The owl at her papa’s.
Mom hadn’t confirmed it before the Order meeting, but the burning parchment, the flare of light—Papa had Transcribed it back to the spheres.
Lia knew it in her bones. And in her memory, the owl then and in Norenth hadn’t been missing anything, hurt in any way.
Just quiet. Watchful. She couldn’t stop her shudder, the way she looked to every shadow like its claws could snatch out and grab her.
But her papa had seen the owl. Known it was unscathed, a nightmare on Earth—like the gremlin and the dragon.
And then not even a day later, Papa was killed.
Because he knew with certainty, Seekers possessed part of the Initiis.
A small fire was all Lia would risk when night set in for a second time.
The lake had offered enough water to fill her metal canteen.
It cooled beside her, having boiled in the flames.
Lia wasn’t about to risk getting ill on top of everything else.
But her stomach was eating itself, the last of her protein bars gone.
After Murdoc left, Lia had doubled back to her shelter. The steady ache hadn’t eased. Not after the information she learned.
Why would Fee orchestrate this convoluted show-and-tell with that troll?
Unless this was another of papa’s clues.
This time, not through a note, but a message from their guardian.
Her head pulsed, forcing Lia to file the questions away.
If she didn’t get her wits about her, she wouldn’t walk out of this swamp any better than when she entered.
She was grateful the rangers had taught her to trap several years ago, the small snare she set up successfully capturing a rabbit. It was nice to see that it was similar to those on Earth. After skinning and gutting her meal, Lia set about roasting the meat when a similar dinner came to mind.
It was the first night Kayce had stayed with them, before the mall fiasco.
Out of respect, Kayce had taken his leave once seeing the family needed more time to process. However, he did not remain idle. When the three had finally remembered they had a guest, the Corvines headed to the dining room only to find a meal ready with Kayce waiting.
Her mom had looked over the chicken with carrots and broccoli steaming on the plates, relaxing at the pleasant surprise.
“After the day we all had, a warm meal seemed the best course of action.” Kayce had beamed.
Lia snorted. Of course he would. Kayce could hardly go an hour without thinking about the next meal.
“Well, if I had smelled anything cooking I would’ve helped.” Her mom had smiled as they all took their places.
“I couldn’t figure out how the oven in your kitchen worked, so I used the firepit out back,” Kayce commented cheerfully.
“We have a firepit?” her mom replied.
“You do now.”
Her mom sent a worried eye toward the backyard, causing Lia to chuckle before saying, “Don’t worry, Mom, he knows what he’s doing.”
After a few bites, her mom looked up at Kayce. “This is fantastic! How did you keep the chicken from getting dry with an open flame?”
But Kayce shook his head while clearing his mouth. “It’s rabbit, not chicken.”
Everyone had paused.
“What?” asked a wide-eyed Marcus, his face a shade paler.
“Rabbit. I found a couple in your yard and was able to—”
“I’m eating Fluffles and Floppy Ear?” Marcus spat out a mouthful, clamoring for his water.
Kayce paused at looks of horror around him. “Uh, these weren’t wild rabbits, were they?”
The rabbits in question had been regulars that Marcus had started to feed, which they had enjoyed watching in the evenings. The prince looked over at Marcus apologetically, his face solemn and uncertain. An awkward silence had filled the room before Lia made the first move in suggesting take-out.
Lia laughed now as her own rabbit finished cooking, removing it from the flames. The relief on Kayce’s face was easy to recall, the take-out an instant winner. Thankfully, Marcus didn’t hold it against Kayce for too long.
She supposed nearly being roasted by a dragon evened the scales.
Halfway through her gamey dinner, Lia was in a reverie when the bushes rustled. She paused mid-chew. Only her eyes moved, darting over the shadows, looking for a solid darkness, a highlight from the small flames.
Flames she had foolishly forgotten to stamp out as soon as her dinner cooked.
Rookie mistake.