Chapter 25
It was late in the afternoon, and though Ian had already spent the morning hour on the small archery range behind Lockwood, he stood at the shooting line once again, staring down his arrow at the distant target.
His only responsibility at the harvest festival the following day was to speak with Onric. And he did not want to waste the chance to see his brother—and to contribute to the information gathering—by failing out of the competition too early.
The bow he was using was not his, but Ulli had helped Ian select a well-made instrument from the weapon’s shed and had even hand-fletched several arrows for him.
While one day with the weapon was not much time, Ian felt himself getting used to the weight and pull of it.
His right arm was beginning to ache, and his fingers were numb from the bowstring. It was time to stop practicing before he was too sore to compete at all in the morning.
Setting down the bow, he stretched out his arm and shoulder, eyes still locked on the target ahead of him.
One more round of arrows. Then he would stop for the night.
A heavy pair of arms wrapped around Ian from behind, squeezing him tightly and lifting his feet off the ground.
Ian threw his head back against his attacker as his feet kicked frantically, searching for purchase on the missing ground.
“Peace, brother,” a deep voice said from behind him.
Ian felt the rumble of laughter bubble up in his attacker’s chest as the man let him go.
His feet still dancing even after they landed safely back on the ground, Ian spun around, catching his balance. “Aden!” Ian grabbed the taller man by the shoulders, shaking him soundly before launching himself at Aden for a real hug. “Is Isa with you?” Ian asked.
“You mean my wife?” Aden answered with a question, lifting an eyebrow as a grin spread over his face.
Ian grabbed his younger brother’s shoulders, shaking him again to express his happiness. “Your wife?” he repeated.
Aden stood there, his grinning face flopping back and forth as Ian shook him. “I am sorry not to tell you in advance.”
Ian stepped back, looking at his brother with pride. Aden and Isa had spent most of the last three seasons in Allys, binding books and restoring scrolls to preserve knowledge. Given Aden’s penchant for spending time in a library, Isa seemed to be the perfect partner for him.
“When we heard about father . . .” Aden’s smile dimmed. “We wanted to come immediately, but we waited a few days so that we could have a small wedding with her family. There was not enough time to invite you all.”
“I understand,” Ian said. “The castle is not safe for any of us right now.”
“It was fortunate that we did wait,” Aden continued, “as we got your letter before we left.”
“You brought food supplies with you?” Ian asked. “I did not request that you bring it personally. It is too dangerous to travel right now.”
Aden nodded. “That is what Onric wrote, too. But you are glad that I did bring it personally.” His grin returned.
“I am glad that you did.” Ian looked behind Aden to the manor house in the distance. “Is your wife with you?” he asked, repeating the question that Aden had never answered.
“She is inside with Sol and Meena,” Aden replied, turning back toward the house as well and starting to walk toward it.
Ian picked up his bow, not wanting to leave it strung and unattended. “Have you . . . grown taller?” Ian asked as he followed Aden toward the house.
Aden shrugged. “So you know about Robin now?” he asked over his shoulder, the question more of a statement.
“About that . . .” Ian moved at a double pace to catch up to his brother’s long strides.
“Who told you?” Aden asked, grinning down at him.
“Erich,” Ian replied, tucking the bow safely under his arm.
“Please tell me he is still among the living?” Aden’s grin once again faded, as though he realized his question, although meant in jest, might have real implications due to the dangerous situation they were all in.
“I let him live,” Ian replied, trying to keep his voice light, though he felt the unspoken weight between them. “Though I was sorely tempted otherwise.”
Aden nodded, the jesting gone from his eyes. “How is Father?” he asked.
“The same,” Ian replied. “We received word yesterday.”
“I will return to the castle tomorrow,” Aden said.
“No.” Ian grabbed his brother’s arm, forcing him to stop walking so they could face each other. “It is too dangerous for any of us. I already lost you once . . .” He looked up into Aden’s deep-set eyes, trying to find the words to convey what he felt.
He had thanked Aden, many times, for jumping in front of him that day, but he had never been able to express the complete horror and helplessness he had experienced the night of that first false Majis attack.
When he had turned around to see not Aden lying prone on the dais at his feet, but a massive beast in the shape of a man.
It had been Aden. When the beast had awoken, he’d still had Aden’s mind and voice, even if his words were shaped differently by the beastly fangs in his brother’s mouth.
Ian was certain that the intent of the curse had been to fully transform both his body and mind, but somehow, because Aden had jumped in front of him, the chaos magic did not take hold as intended.
Instead, the invasion of the chaos into Aden’s mind was a slower process, one that would have completed eventually if not for Isa’s researching harmony magic with Brother Elias.
Aden placed his hand on Ian’s shoulder. “I would have done it for any of us.”
Ian nodded.
He could see the pain haunting Aden’s eyes, but still his bighearted little brother was reaching out to comfort him.
“Thank you,” Ian said. He had no more words that needed to be said. But he could move forward again—and give Aden something to distract them both from the painful memories.
As they rounded the front corner of the house, Robin, Jette, and Rigelt were already carrying crates, barrels, and chests from a large wagon into the manor.
Ilida stood near the wagon, ledger in hand, tallying up the new supplies. The face she turned to Ian was positively beaming. “I was going to complain that you summoned another brother to Lockwood, but if they all bring a cart like this, then the whole family is welcome.”
Ian laughed, happy to break the heavier moment he had just shared with Aden. “Well there is only Onric and Erich left, so you do not have to be too concerned.” Ian looked back at Aden. “We do need to put them up for a few days, or several.”
Aden shook his head. “No need to put you out. We will continue on our way to the castle tonight.” Aden reached inside the wagon and lifted out a chest to carry into the house.
“It is too dangerous,” Ian repeated.
“Onric and Erich need the support,” Aden said, walking off with the chest before Ian had a chance to respond.
Ian looked into the wagon. He could not argue with that. He knew all too well the shame of not being at the castle to help his brothers. The wagon was empty save for a final chest.
“I’ll find them a spot for tonight,” Ilida said, holding up her ledger. “For all of this, they can have my bed.”
Ian slid the chest across the wagon floor. It was heavier than expected.
“This is more than double what the cart usually brings,” Ilida said.
Ian looked up at the sincerity in her voice.
“Thank you,” she continued. “This was well solved.”
Ian smiled at the rare compliment from the overworked woman. “Thank you,” he said in return. Lugging the chest off the back end of the wagon, he grunted at the weight of it, then hefted it in his arms and staggered to the front door of the manor.
Inside the great hall, Meena stood next to the long wooden table, which now held the contents from the wagon. She was chatting excitedly with Isa Bielsa. Aden stood next to his wife, a hand comfortably wrapped around her waist.
The table was completely filled. Robin stood on the far side, attempting to make room for the crate in her arms. Ian dropped his chest onto the wooden bench beside the table.
Standing back up with relief, Ian turned to Meena and Isa. “Sister,” he called, stepping toward them.
Both Meena and Isa turned to him.
“Which one?” Meena asked, raising her eyebrows.
“The smart one,” Ian shot back at Meena.
“He definitely means me,” Meena said to Isa.
“I did not.” Ian raised his voice so Meena was sure to hear it. He had stopped next to Robin to help her safely deposit her crate on the overflowing table. Now, he continued across the room to greet Isa.
“Welcome to the family, sister,” he said.
“Thank you,” Isa replied. Her smile was as lovely as Ian remembered it. “I am glad to see you again.”
Robin had joined the group, standing next to Ian.
“Robin,” Ian said, turning to her. “Allow me to introduce a member of my family that you have not yet met?”
Robin shook her head.
“This is Isa Bielsa,” he said.
“Bielsa?” Robin asked, repeating the name. “As in the family that gifted the monks with the Allysian villa?”
Isa nodded. “My father and mother.”
“I assume we have them to thank for the food as well?” Ian said. “I hope you did not empty the Bielsa larder?”
Isa shook her head, her glossy, dark curls slipping loosely over her shoulders. “My parents will not starve,” she replied. “Oh—” She pointed to the chest Ian had just carried in. “That one was supposed to stay in the wagon. It comes along to the castle with us.”
Ian flexed his wrists, stretching out the stiffness in his muscles from just carrying it the one way. “What is in it?”
“Books!” Isa said, her eyes lighting up. “Brother Elias and I found some ancient texts that reference Majis history. I brought them for Ashlin and Aizel.”
Ian looked back at the chest, considering it with far more care than he previously had.
Robin also looked at the chest, then up at him.
Ian lifted his eyebrows.
Robin gave him a subtle nod.
Ian turned to Aden with a smile of victory. “I am afraid you will be remaining in Lockwood for a few days, brother.”
Completely confused by this statement, Aden looked from Ian to Robin, and then to Isa.
“We have several Majis here,” Ian explained to Isa. “If you would be willing to share your books with them for a few days before you continue on to the castle, I am sure you could exchange invaluable information.”
Isa’s face was beaming. “Yes!”
Ian reached out, slapping Aden’s shoulder. His hand landed on solid muscle. “Meena,” Ian asked, unable to resist a final jab at his brother. “Has Aden always been this tall?”