Chapter 6
Refugee Center, Realm of Calderre
T hough she’d explained a bit on the ride, Rodric hadn’t fully comprehended what the term Refugee Center would mean. The refugees, many from his home realm, outnumbered the military at the protected compound nestled deep in the forest.
It looked essentially like a village crossed with a military outpost. The uniqueness came from the housing. In addition to barracks, the compound held clusters of single homes. Families went about normal daily activities around the small cottages.
The truly shocking part was that the majority of individuals were young children. Her words clicked into place as he took in the scenes around him. Did all of these children have magic? His mind reeled as he tried to absorb everything.
Celina kept a determined pace, trying to minimize his interactions with the people here, especially the warriors. A tactic he couldn’t fault, under the circumstances. Although he could encourage an air of nobility to mask his regular hunter-like movements, they were too highly trained not to recognize him for the potential threat he was if they interacted with him.
Backing up to the mountain was a three-story building that took up central residence in the compound, with everything else built out around it. Observing the children playing out front, Rodric began to feel slightly ill at ease. Where were their parents? The adult refugees?
His trepidation grew as a warrior came by and crouched near the children, laughing as they animatedly described their game. The warrior promised to come back and play with them after the meal as he corralled the group and herded them toward the dining hall at the far end of the compound, even picking up the smallest child to his shoulders as they walked away.
In Eldridge, warriors were visible in many places, but they bore an air of definite coldness. He had never seen children so young interact with a seasoned warrior with such comfort and ease. Was Calderre really so different, even in their military? Or was there something more that he was missing, something unique about this little hidden village, its protectors, and these children?
“Hello, Headmistress Lydia,” Celina called out a greeting to an older, refined woman who was standing guard just outside the door as they approached. Her lovely dark complexion hinted at a southern heritage, possibly from Zamyra, which bordered Eldridge to the south and east. “I’d like you to meet Lord Rodric. He’s a visiting ally and quite invested in what we do here.”
Rodric inclined his head respectfully to the lady as they followed her inside, hiding his sudden nerves beneath a polite smile as he tried to fit his mind into the role Celina had designed for him.
“Rodric.” She dropped the formality as she introduced him and placed a hand on his arm, implying a close friendship between them. “Meet Headmistress Lydia. She’s been running the orphanage here for as long as I can remember. I’m certain the center would fall apart without her leadership. I need to track down Commander Galen, but I was hoping you wouldn’t mind letting Rodric stay here with you while I do that. Let him meet some of the children and see the heart of what we do.”
Unable to hide his shock, he whipped his gaze to her. What did she think she was doing? She hadn’t said anything about leaving him alone at an orphanage. Celina smiled broadly at Lydia and flashed heated eyes at him in response to his silent plea.
“He’s welcome to stay for a bit.” Lydia gave him an assessing look, probably wondering what he was really doing here. You and me both .
“Excellent! I won’t be long.” Celina nodded and hastily exited.
Damn feisty, conniving woman had altered the plan and left him in a roomful of children. Magical children. Without warning him first. Rodric breathed in through his nose, trying to ignore the prickling sense of panic stabbing him, and focused on his surroundings.
“Well then,” Headmistress Lydia began. “I’m sure you’ve heard all about the program from Lady Celina. Whole families are housed together in the family dwellings next door.” She gestured toward the aforementioned cottages dotting the compound. “Here, at the orphanage, we have the individual children until they can be permanently placed with a family in Calderre.”
Right. So, this was happening. He tried to absorb the whirlwind of information being thrown at him while the headmistress looked at him expectantly, brow raised with just a touch of skepticism. Buying a moment, he pretended to study the room, while trying to detach his mind from the building cacophony inside him.
“Good. That’s… good.” He tried to think of things an ambassador would want to know, but his mind was still reeling. “How long are they usually here?”
“That depends on the individual. Since learning about their magic is critical to their development and safety, we assess and match them with an appropriate mentor, preferably one with the same type of magic, if one can be found.” She led him through the common room as she spoke. “We don’t let them go before they’ve learned some basic control, and that can take a few months. Longer, if they are particularly strong or have additional issues to overcome. Trauma, as I’m sure you know, can badly affect magical development and cause adverse episodes. We like them to stay here where we can help them until they reach a relatively stable point.”
There was a lot he didn’t know. About magic, about trauma, about the challenges that awaited Brenna. He was starting to suspect that there was more than one reason Celina had left him here. Devious little minx.
Imagining his spirited soul-daughter alone in a place like this, trying to rebuild a life after extenuating trauma had landed her there, made him physically sick. It didn’t matter how well the program was set up or how caring the warriors and leaders were. This place shouldn’t exist. Shouldn’t be necessary.
As he fought the crippling image of Brenna at an orphanage, without him or her father by her side to face the huge new reality she faced as a mage, a young boy drew the headmistress’s attention.
“I’ll be right there.” She called to the child before turning back to address Rodric. “Why don’t you go visit with the children playing out back? Just keep your movements slow. We do have a few newer children right now.”
Out of all the people in the room, he might be the most uncomfortable and unstable at this moment. Space to breathe became his only priority. Going through the indicated door, Rodric sucked in a lungful of air. It felt like ages since he’d breathed fresh air, though realistically only a short amount of time had passed since he’d entered the orphanage.
A group of children sat on a blanket on the ground, pillows scattered around them. Two young ones chattered happily as an older girl settled in front of them. A young teen boy walked over to join them. Interestingly, most of the children he’d seen thus far were around Brenna’s age or older, in their young teens. Was that typical?
He was beginning to wish he hadn’t shut down the conversation when Celina had tried to explain more in depth about magic on their ride to the Refugee Center.
Rodric sat quietly, trying not to disturb the children. The little ones looked over at him with varying degrees of interest but turned back to their story time. The older girl began to tell a familiar fable about the unlikely friendship between a little snow osa and a big ice leopard that Rodric had heard in his own youth—or at least, the forest version of the wintery tale. He didn’t remember it quite like this though.
Attention riveted, he watched in awe as the young storyteller moved her hands in an intricate sweeping pattern as if she was painting. Images, clear as pictures on a storybook page, colored the air in front of her.
“One day, a little white osa was out playing…” Images appeared in a visual depiction of the girl’s words, and a small furry osa with a long, fluffy tail scampered through the falling snow in front of the audience. She continued, weaving the visual story as she went. “… but then a storm appeared, blowing icy wind through the trees and frightening the little lost osa.”
The teen boy gave a quick flick of his wrist and suddenly the almost nonexistent wind whipped into a frenzy, causing leaves and debris to swirl around the images in a sudden storm. A tingling sensation crept up Rodric’s spine and caused his heart to stutter.
Magic. He shouldn’t have been surprised, but knowing these children had magic and seeing it was altogether different. The little ones squealed with laughter as the wind tugged their hair, twirling around and between them before dying down again.
Heart racing wildly, he observed this unique version of story time as the older children continued. Watching them move their hands to such great effect, he absently wondered what magic the other children in the camp had, and how they had come to be here. These in front of him seemed happy and relaxed, not as if they’d just been through a kidnapping and rescue. So, maybe not all of them came via terrible circumstances? Or these had just been here a while. But then, why were there so many single children? That was deeply unsettling.
“Look! Look what I found on our walk!” a small voice yelled excitedly. A little blonde head zoomed past him toward the story zone, foot catching on a pillow that had gotten away from the group.
Rodric was up and moving instantly, years of maneuvering to catch his daredevil soul-daughter mid-stunt taking over. Catching her with an arm under her waist just before she hit the ground, he righted her slowly so as not to drop her. Crouching, he touched her head gently to make sure she was stable and to check if she was injured.
“Easy now, you’re alright,” he said quietly, not wanting to scare her.
She gasped, scrambling away from him, nearly tripping over the same pillow. Fighting the urge to steady her, he let her go, sensing that fear was a bigger threat than a fall this time.
“What’s going on?” An older boy, nearly a man, with the same white-blond hair, stormed over and picked up what had to be his younger sister, glaring at Rodric as he did so.
Surprisingly, the storyteller spoke up before he could. “Maisie ran in and tripped on the pillow. He caught her before she fell but then she got scared.”
Resignation and exhaustion replaced anger on the young man’s face. He kissed the little girl on the head and rubbed her back. “You’re safe, Maisie, remember? No one is going to hurt you here.”
Rodric didn’t like the implication or the multicolored bruises he noticed on the little girl’s arms where she clutched her brother. Shifting his gaze, he noticed that the young man had a deep, still-healing cut on his neck running into his collarbone, old bruising around his eye, and a wealth of more recent bruising and cuts on his wrists. And that was only what he could see.
A sick feeling formed in his gut. These must be newcomers, obviously rescued from a horrible situation. Although her panic had eased, the little girl was ghostly pale as she observed him warily from the safety of her brother’s arms, eyes big with fear.
The need to say something to alleviate the tension filled him. No child should have to feel unsafe. “I’m sorry, little one. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“You look like them. Like the ones who took us,” she whispered.
Shock and a tinge of horror held Rodric still. He was a big rough hunter who spent more time in the woods than with people. Was it just because his features were Eldrin? Or was it something else, something about his movements. Would these children be afraid of any non-Calderran warrior?
The young man’s jaw hardened, but he didn’t deny the words. He pulled the little girl closer and hugged her tightly. “Come on, let’s go. Miss Lydia wants everyone inside for lessons.” Nodding warily at Rodric, he ushered all the children into the orphanage.
An old feeling swelled in his chest as his emotions grew rapidly, near exploding. Magic led to pain, danger. The truth rang in his head. He wanted to get on Zora and run. Escape the overwhelming sensations trying to pull him under. Instead, he staggered back, leaning against the wall of the building for security. Dropping his head back, he breathed deeply, trying to control the maelstrom raging inside him.
Like them. The whispered words haunted his mind. The ones who took us . If that didn’t wrench his soul… He shoved one hand into his hair to grip his head as the weight of everything assaulted him. Closing his eyes didn’t stop it, only intensified the sound of the girl’s voice in his head.
A sharp slice of air had him alerted him just before a sharpened blade appeared at his throat. “Who are you and what are you doing here?” A huge warrior stared at him.
Kavesh. He was way more messed up by the episode in the orphanage than he wanted to admit if he could be surprised by this broad-shouldered beast. Deadly serious intent clear, the warrior hovered on the verge of movement yet in complete stillness. A feat Rodric respected as a hunter but was thoroughly aggravated by when it was directed at him.
“Lord Rodric Velton. Of Eldridge.” There was only one thing, one person, who could get him out of this. He took a deep breath, speaking on the exhale to ensure he sounded utterly calm. “I’m here with Lady Celina. She’ll be back in a moment.”
The warrior’s eyes narrowed to an even colder blue. “No way she’s here. Not after last night. Try again.”
Last night… That meant this warrior at least knew who Celina was, probably knew about the situation with her brother. Rodric was growing increasingly certain that this was the person they’d come to see, but on the off chance he wasn’t… “Look. I know I’m not supposed to be on site, but she needed to speak with Commander Galen and I was already with her, so we came together.”
“Go find Celina, if she’s here.” Glacier Eyes crisply gave orders to someone outside of Rodric’s sightline. “I’ll wait with our friend.”
Lovely. He eyed the warrior cautiously until he finally retracted his weapon and stepped back, giving Rodric a semblance of freedom and some breathing room. Semblance being the key word. He had no doubt that the dangerous beast guarding him had complete control of the situation.
Feathers still ruffled that he’d been snuck up on, Rodric smiled at the warrior and called out to the searcher, “Celina’s mare, Dahlia, is in the third stall, right next to my chestnut mare. Be careful; she bites.”
Zero reaction from his new warrior friend. Not that Rodric would have reacted any differently to a viable threat to the people he was protecting. It was really obnoxious to respect the man intent on causing you bodily harm if you blinked wrong.
A n instant of joy at seeing Rodric leaning against the orphanage wall was chased by a wave of apprehension as Celina took in the furious energy radiating from Morgan, standing guard a few feet away. Her mind ran through her options of how to handle the tense situation.
Her heart, however, was still dancing, and the core of her magic brightened in response to her emotions. Unmistakable forest-green eyes that she’d thought about more than once since last night met hers as she approached. She forced down the instinctive desire to send out a strand of magic to connect with him. Not the time or place.
Rodric’s face was carefully blank in a practiced, nonthreatening manner, but his eyes were intensely directed at her, conveying sincerity. There was a hint of a plea in them. His life, at least in the short term, was in her hands, and he knew it.
Maybe she didn’t have the instincts of a hunter or a warrior, but she did have those of a healer, and she had sensed his pain and his sincerity when he talked about his soul-daughter. They could make an excellent team, assuming she could get him out of here unscathed and then convince Morgan to hear them out.
She inclined her head just barely in a private greeting to Rodric as she drew near and was rewarded by a flare of heat and triumph in his eyes. Ancestors, guide me.
“Morgan, I see you’ve met Rodric.”
“Care to explain what he’s doing in my compound?” Morgan fired the demand at her, a hard glint in his eyes.
Celina frowned at his overreactive response. “We came to meet with you about an urgent matter.”
“Really.” Disbelief colored his tone.
“Yes.” Without moving her head, she flicked her eyes to the warrior who had escorted her over and raised her brow.
Morgan dismissed the guard with an unusually sharp jerk of his head, waiting until he was out of earshot to grill her further. “So, you’re vouching for his presence, claiming he’s here with you?”
“He is here with me.” She corralled her energy and projected it into calm confidence as Morgan assessed them.
“Damn it, Celina. It would be simpler if he wasn’t with you. Then I could just get rid of him. What were you thinking, allowing him here?”
Healers and warriors were inextricably linked, two halves of a whole, yet always slightly at odds. Thankfully, she and Morgan had been working together in dicey situations for years, so she was able to read him well.
“I’m trying to save lives.” She laced her quiet tone with ferocity. “Your riled up behavior means you’re doing the same, so let’s call it even. I still need your help, and so does Rodric.”
A quick glance showed Rodric’s face was masked with polite respect. He met her gaze intently with a touch of admiration and shared a smile with her.
“A favor for an Eldrin?” Morgan asked incredulously. “ Today ?”
She could practically hear his thoughts rolling in disbelief—how could she be asking such a thing after the news that Connor had been killed in Eldridge?
“Tell me you completely, whole-heartedly believe every detail of what they said about Connor’s mission.” She searched his eyes. “Convince me of that right now, and I’ll walk away.”
A moment of heavy silence permeated the air before he dropped his defensive stance in resignation. A spark of victory lit in Celina’s heart.
“I swear, some days, I think you and Cass are trying to kill me.” Morgan gave her a pained look and jerked his head in the hunter’s direction. “What’s his role in all this?”
“He’s going to—”
“Nooo!” an angry scream came from inside, cutting off Celina’s words.
Snapping into healer mode, she immediately checked her reserve of magic as they ran for the orphanage. Morgan moved like lightning, racing ahead of them inside.
A teenage girl stood in the common room, shouting at the headmistress. Tears streaked from bloodshot eyes, her hair a wild brown tangle around her face and shoulders.
“You don’t understand. He protected me and now he’s dying ! Why won’t you believe me?” The girl growled at the headmistress before looking frantically around the room. Desperate hope flared in her eyes when she found Morgan, and she stepped toward him, lip trembling. “Morgan! Tell them, make them believe me. You have to do something!”
“What’s going on? Who’s dying?” Celina asked.
“Aiden! Aiden is sick.” The girl’s eyes flicked to Celina’s before resettling on the huge warrior. “Morgan, please.”
“Easy, Sarai.” Towering over the girl, Morgan settled his hands on her shoulders, keeping her focused on him. “Tell me exactly , specifically, what is going on with Aiden. He was fine last night when I checked on you.”
The girl’s eyes flickered to the others.
“No. Eyes on me, Sarai. Take a deep breath, all the way, like I showed you.” Morgan paused, waiting for her to comply. “There you go. Now tell me . Nobody else. Just me.”
Sarai took another deep breath and looked at Morgan. “I know he looks fine, but he’s not. On the inside . They sewed his wounds closed and said he needed rest, but that’s not… he’s not sleeping ! He’s still sick. I know something is wrong, but I don’t know what to do. He can’t die, Morgan. He can’t.”
Her voice cracked on the last word, fresh tears erupting from her eyes as she sobbed. Morgan tucked her against his chest and rubbed her back as she cried into his shirt, murmuring softly to her.
Understanding clicked in Celina’s mind. This girl was why Morgan was so on edge about Rodric’s presence. The increased protectiveness was because he’d found a soul-daughter to guard. Even without touching them with her magic, Celina could tell that there was a strong bond growing between them.
After a few moments, the girl calmed, and Morgan spoke again. “Alright, Sarai, this is what we’re going to do. Celina is a healer. One with magic, not the regular kind of healer who helped Aiden when we arrived. We’re going to let her examine him, then we’ll do whatever she says in order to help him.”
Sarai stepped back, brushing tears off her face. “Okay. But I’m staying the whole time to help.” She glared at the rest of the room, ready to fight anyone who tried to stop her.
A smile tugged at Celina’s mouth despite the severity of the situation. Sarai’s strength and defiance reminded her of herself when her powers had awakened, albeit at a much younger age, and she’d vehemently argued with anyone in her path when trying to save someone.
“Hey, look at me.” Morgan gently turned Sarai’s face back to his. “I know what you two went through together. Anyone who tries to separate you will have to go through me first. You’re mine to protect, Sarai. I’m keeping you as my soul-daughter.”
“You mean it?” Sarai whispered, voice trembling, staring up at Morgan like he was her lifeline, her foundation in a crumbling world.
Celina’s heart broke for the young girl who had been through so much. Looking over at Rodric, she found a look of intense pain on his features. As a soul-guardian himself, he could understand the magnitude and significance of what was happening. Celina yearned to embrace him. Watching Morgan claim Sarai as his soul-daughter had to be painful.
Morgan smiled at the girl. “Yeah, starshine. I promise. We’ll get a binder to seal the bond magically and make everything official so I can adopt you as my daughter, okay?”
Sarai hugged him, a heartbreaking smile on her face as she nodded. He kissed the top of her head before releasing her.
“You go on up with Aiden now and we’ll be right behind you.”
Morgan waited until Sarai reached the top of the stairs and turned the corner out of sight before letting out a huge, audible breath.
Celina could imagine the tumultuous emotions plaguing him—she’d been through similar when she had to take on a mothering role at such a young age. Only a handful of years older than her and Cass, Morgan was young to take on a teenage daughter. But sometimes family bonds and need took precedence over age and the natural order of things.
Sensing the worry building in him, Celina stepped forward and squeezed his shoulder. “You’re going to do great, Morgan. She’s lucky to have you.”
“I don’t know anything about being a parent, Celina. And she’s a traumatized teenager . ”
“Follow the same instincts you just did, and you’ll be fine.”
Morgan flashed Celina a grateful smile as he headed up the stairs.
Worry settled in her gut once again as she turned to Rodric. He looked nauseous, staring in an unfocused way in front of him.
“We’ll find your soul-daughter, Rodric.” She reached out to touch his hand. His gaze swiveled to her, a lost, horrified look on his face making Celina’s heart ache.
She believed wholeheartedly that Rodric wanted to help Brenna. But if she was going to help him, she was going to do it her way, and that included preparing him to help Brenna emotionally once she was physically safe. Starting by inviting him to witness this new world.
“Come on, you should join us.” Forcing herself to turn away, she followed Morgan, leaving Rodric with the choice.