Shattered Illusions (Terra Chronicles Book 2) Page 10

  I brushed my hair as Mother and Kitteren entered the suite. I bit my tongue, not wanting to involve either of our parents in the conversation I needed to have with my sister. Though I had become curious as to where they disappeared to so early. And why go out when there was breakfast being served downstairs?

  I tugged on my shirt as I stood up from the couch, smelling eggs and meat. A little richer for breakfast than normal. I would have been fine with something simpler.

  Mother directed me to the table, taking my brush from me. “Go eat and I’ll finish your hair. It’s the least I can do for making you worry.”

  The statement seemed weird to me, but I pushed it off. My stomach demanded food.

  Only one container of food sat on the table. “You aren’t eating?”

  Kitteren immediately went to our room and Father had not returned with them. The picture before me made no sense.

  “I’m sorry, my sweet girl. I didn’t want to wake you and I had some business to take care of. Music is a demanding industry - I don’t recommend it,” Mother laughed. “Kitteren went with me and Dad so you could rest. She’s been keeping me apprised of how much you’ve been working.”

  I rolled my eyes and popped a piece of sausage in my mouth, savoring the delightful mix of spices and meat. I guessed the business which served it back then was still going strong. I used to salvage the burnt ones sent back to the kitchen. They were never really burnt. I paused, considering the meal before me. Something felt very off about this.

  “Would you like to go shopping with me today? Just the two of us,” Mother proposed, gently brushing my hair. The tangles were long gone, but the motion soothed my frayed nerves.

  I started to forget my aggravation and the conversation I wanted to have with Kitteren. I sighed, chewing on another bite of sausage. I swallowed and then said, “Okay.” Maybe I would cave and buy some new clothes after all.

  ~*~

  Shopping bored me. How Mother managed to talk me into this I still did not know. I stared at a white dress on a form. While I found it pretty, it was not something I would wear. I wondered if Kitteren would like something like this.

  No, too soft and airy. She liked something a little on the sleeker side. Though she might like the single shoulder and the thin silver cording wrapped around the torso from just under the bust to the waist.

  “Do you like this dress?” Mother asked, coming up behind me.

  I jumped, not expecting her. I thought her occupied for a while speaking with one of the sales people. “Oh, I couldn’t wear something like this. I was trying to figure out if I should tell Kitteren about it.” Mother would not let me wander far from her, which limited where I could browse. She would request my attention on something to bring me back closer to her.

  Mother looked at the dress for a few moments. “Knowing my girls like I do, I’d say this would look better on you. Why don’t we find one in your size and try it on? Just for fun.” She smiled at me and I knew there was no point arguing, though I rolled my eyes anyway.

  We had been at this for hours so far and it was just after noon. It had been the same thing at multiple stores. Try this on, try that on. This was why I normally declined shopping trips.

  Being prodded into the changing room with the dress, I took a moment to think without Mother distracting me. Why had I given in without much of a fight?

  Then I remembered Mother had a way with people. It was a form of magic I did not understand and was difficult to combat - especially if you did not know what to look for. Getting food from one of my more favorite haunts from 50 years ago only helped her.

  How had she known I used to frequent that place? Even Kitteren or Don would not have known. She always seemed good at finding out information, but this seemed inconsequential.

  I thought about confronting her in regards to using her abilities on me, but what good would it do? Kitteren and I had been at odds most of this trip and likely she did not wish to see us fight.

  Getting changed, I considered Kitteren when she returned. Mother tried to distract me so I would not pay attention to my sister, but I noticed she wore the same clothes she had on the night before. And she looked exhausted.

  “How’s it going in there?” Mother called. I had not spent as much time with all of them as I probably should have. Maybe this would be considered normal for a trip like this.

  I struggled with the zipper. It was in an awkward position. “I don’t think this is a good fit,” I lied. It was a better alternative to begging for this to be over.

  She stuck her head in through the curtain. “Nonsense, let me help you with that.” Mother took over and I hung my head back, frustrated. “I know, this is not something you enjoy, but I needed to separate you and your sister for a bit. Besides, it’s been a while since you last let me drag you around shopping. Despite what you may think, you’re still one of my girls.”

  Mother kissed the top of my head and I wondered why she cared so much for someone who tried to steal from her in the first place. I had done nothing but cause problems for her. The most I had been able to care for Kitteren and keep both of them safe from me was to accept the Arcane College’s proposal.

  Her attention on my reflection in the mirror made me squirm. The dress alone made me uneasy, but those violet eyes of hers always felt like they saw deeper than I wanted them to.

  I distracted myself with my surroundings. The spacious dressing room we both could stand in comfortably had little beyond the black curtains and mirrored walls. I looked at the black, cloth-covered stool wishing I could sit down and take this dress off.

  “Absolutely beautiful. You should get it,” Mother said and smiled. Then she made me turn around for her.

  “It’s uncomfortable and I wouldn’t know when I would wear it,” I whined. On the contrary, I would be content in the soft fabric, but I did not like showing this much or wearing such fitted outfits. Or dresses - I did not like dresses. They reminded me too much of the robes I had to wear before.

  “Okay, okay. You’re probably getting hungry anyway,” Mother laughed and helped me undo the zipper. At least one of us found this amusing.

  She must have heard my stomach, which might explain my crankiness. I looked at myself in the mirror one last time and started to think maybe I could make a change and this was a far cry from the well-worn gray robes.

  One quick glance at the price tag and I happily put it back. There were other ways to make changes - ones not so expensive.

  ~*~

  All the time spent getting dragged around and I had yet to find a replacement shirt I liked. Or hair elastics. Mother stuck to the fancier shops, which did not carry what I preferred, though a few did catch my attention that were outside of my normal attire.

  We sat out on the patio of a quiet cafe. I held a fried potato stick, nibbling on the end while I tried to think. We were in a newer part of the city. It felt like she avoided the areas I used to frequent. Not that I was complaining. I needed a break from seeing the past.

  Mother sat back, which caught my attention. “You’re pensive. This trip is still bothering you, isn’t it?”

  I nodded, unsure on how to word my thoughts.

  “Listen, I may not agree with how Kitteren went about getting you to take a vacation, but I’m not going to argue you needed one. She just worries about you, Ketayl,” Mother said gently.

  I finished what I nibbled on and replied, “Too much. I’m fine.”

  “No, Ketayl, you weren’t. I know she’s been a pain in the ass to you in regards to finding out about what happened. You may not want her to know, but someday, you should tell someone. Even if it isn’t me or Kitteren. Find someone you trust,” Mother reached over to squeeze my hand.

  I shook my head. It would mean admitting to someone what kind of monster I was. Had been. How did I even classify it now since I still had the potential?

  Mother cocked her head to the side, studying me for a moment. “I only tell you this from experience. I never spoke to
anyone about what I went through during the war. What I saw and even more so about what I did. It ate away at me until Dad finally got me to break down and let it all out. I still wish to spare my girls the details, but you need someone who will listen and understand. I’m here if you want and so are Kitteren and Dad. Don would probably be willing to lend an ear also.”

  “No, not him,” I said quickly. I did not want to sully an old man’s memories. Not to mention I truly did not want to bother him with more than I already had.

  “Then how about that new partner of yours? Silver was it?” Mother suggested.

  I eyed her for a moment, not sure why she would bring him up. Surely she had heard Kitteren’s opinion of him by now. “Silver Blaise,” I stated. “I can’t burden him with more than he already has.”

  Should I mention he might be here soon? I did not even know what his schedule looked like or if he decided to turn Lockonis down or not. I had not spoken with him since I last saw him at Savanas’ dinner. It felt wrong to not even get a general message from him asking how my day was or something along those lines.

  Mother sighed in frustration. “I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting him yet. I’m reluctant to take Kitteren’s assessment at face value.”

  “She hates him,” I stated flatly. “She still blames him for me getting hurt during my last field assignment.”

  “Your only field assignment so far,” Mother corrected. “You haven’t spoken much of what happened then either.”

  I started to retort she was wrong, but after having Kitteren lecture me for being careless, she avoided the topic whenever it came up. I guess I just assumed it went against some social norm to discuss such matters.

  I broke off a piece of fish with my fork and took a bite, using the action to give myself time to think. I shifted, uncomfortable - still uneasy about wanting to discuss anything personal, but I did not deny the desire was there. If only to get it out.

  Swallowing, I found myself out of time. “I don’t know what to talk about.” That series of events I could deal with a little easier.

  Mother looked at me sadly. The forced gentle smile on her face told me it was not in sympathy, but in understanding. She took another bite, quietly waiting for me to continue.

  I looked back down at my food, ashamed to admit, “I was scared. I thought I knew what was happening to me and I was wrong. And now…” I trailed off, still afraid of what lay just beneath the surface, barely kept in check.

  “My little girl, so tough and fierce,” Mother reached over and patted my hand. “You’re going to have to explain a bit more - I wasn’t there.”

  I bit my lower lip, debating my next words. I did not want to go into a lot of detail - the images of trapped souls still haunted me. “The spell the necromancer used. It affected people who were arcane or divine sensitive. I thought because I could see it I understood it. That it was just giving me a headache due to the amount of power in it. It actually broke down my control and I haven’t been able to rebuild it. I feel like I’m barely able to keep my power in check.”

  Mother squeezed my hand before picking up her fork again. “Have you considered trying to work with what you have now instead of trying to go back? You’ve been adamant about not talking about your past here and moving forward, but you won’t step beyond who you were six months ago.”

  I looked up at Mother, considering her words carefully. I simply wanted to go back to before I encountered Brown, but I could not. The case had not only given me problems with my power, but also new people in my life. Even Savanas called from time to time to check on me. So much happened since then because of the experience.

  I munched on another potato stick, the smells before me reminding me my stomach still demanded food. Shopping with her had worked up an appetite.

  “I don’t know how,” I finally admitted. I learned control to deal with what happened half a century ago, but now she implied I should give up on it.

  “Neither do I, but sometimes you have to take a step forward. If you fall, get back up and try something else,” Mother advised.

  The thought made me more uneasy as making a mistake would likely come with dire consequences. I had no one else to look to for guidance as unlike other Arcanists, according to Magus Engelil, my ability to use my power was tied far more tightly to my emotional state. She did not think it permanent. I did not understand her words then or now and I did not know where to start.

  I bit the tip of my thumb, trying to think of what I needed to do. What end result I needed. If I could at least see the end then I could plot a path there, right? But if I could not go back to what I had, then where did I need to be? I started tapping my fork lightly on my plate in contemplation.

  Mother put her hand over mine to stop the motion. “Ketayl, easy. I can try to help. If you let Kitteren and Dad know, they’ll be more than happy to do what they can. And I have a feeling you should trust your partner. If I know your sister, she’s just being stubborn about him.”

  Mother did not understand I had already let her in too close. She knew more about what happened 50 years ago, but I needed to distance myself a certain amount from people to keep them safe. I was dangerous - that much I had always known.

  “Shall we finish and continue our shopping trip?” Mother smiled broadly.

  I groaned and ate slowly. I did not want to get dragged around to more shops. Mother continued trying to distract me and perhaps I needed it. To be able to step back so I could see the big picture.

  Chapter 8

  The next day, Kitteren was once again missing as well as Mother. Father sat in the common area reading a magazine. “Good morning, honey.” He smiled. Their pet names for me always felt awkward and I shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

  “Kitteren didn’t come back again last night?” I asked, running my fingers through my hair in an attempt to get it into some semblance of order. Father and I were not close. Not like how Mother tried to connect with me, but he cared all the same and treated us as his daughters. I had not met him until one time a few years after I enrolled in the Arcane College and he came with them to visit. I guessed Mother met him soon after she returned to Elven Territory with Kitteren.

  Father shrugged, turning the page. “She’s had things on her mind. I’ve noticed she’s been restless. Did something happen in Ocean’s Edge?”

  I frowned - I lost my chance to talk with her again. “She met someone. She wasn’t at the ceremony with me so I don’t know.” I knew she went with Rathal after our lunch and likely joined with him. The two started flirting with each other the moment they met.

  “Oh?”

  I shook my head, turning back toward the room I should have been sharing with Kitteren. “I don’t think there was any trouble.” Not if her satisfied grin when she arrived with Rathal at Savanas’ house was any indication.

  “I’m going to help Don with some repairs he needs to get done on his property. Would you like to come with me?” Father asked before I closed the door.

  While it seemed odd for Father to be helping out, I quickly gave up thinking about it too much since I had no plans for the day. Thinking about it would only frustrate me as the pieces I had would not fit. I nodded and excused myself to get ready.

  Father and Kitteren were close and it bothered me he seemed unconcerned about her disappearances. Or maybe I just did not know my sister as well as I thought I did.

  If only I could talk to her, but I missed my chances before because I did not think it the right time. I just wanted to sort all of this out. I bordered on offering to tell her everything just to clear the air. The fear of scaring her off held my tongue.

  ~*~

  I stretched, barely tall enough to reach where I needed to dust. Father disappeared somewhere on the property not long after we arrived. He returned at lunch, but then went off again. I had quickly gotten bored and started cleaning in an effort to stay occupied much to Alice’s delight. Though at first she tried to convince me I did not need
to help.

  In the morning, I cleaned the guest rooms upstairs. Don had offered them to Kitteren, but she declined. Likely because I was with them this time and did not want to make me uncomfortable with the amount of time passed.

  It annoyed me Kitteren could not have been bothered to inform me about any of them. I cared little for those types of surprises. That no one ever mentioned them to me felt wrong, but perhaps they deemed it unnecessary given the fact I had refused to return.

  Alice left for the store late in the afternoon to get something to make for dinner. I had not seen Father since lunch. Don came into the front room with his violin in hand.

  Smiling, he asked, “If I can get my fingers to work, would you sing for me again?”

  I felt the heat rise in my face. Embarrassed, I admitted, “I haven’t sung in a long time.” Not counting the times Mother made me. They were almost always these songs - the ones I used to sing with Don, though there were others she occasionally snuck in during the rare practice times.

  “Then you’ll be in good company. It’s been a while since I’ve played. Come sit with me on the front porch. If need be, I’m sure it could use a sweeping,” Don said, waving me along with him.

  Sighing, I put the duster down and grabbed the broom I left by the front door. I knew he only suggested sweeping so I would indulge him. Just me and Don, I reminded myself - no one else would hear this and I could not disappoint the old man.

  I found it comfortingly familiar. Often, when Don was not expecting company, he would ask me to come sing for him. I could not refuse then and obviously not now.

  I let him fuss with the violin, trying to get his fingers to remember what to play. It did not take long before he was playing the same melody - the one he crafted from a song I would sing to Kitteren while she slept.

  The song was a story about a young boy going on a journey. He wanted to explore the world - experience everything. He threw away the customs of his clan to make his own path. Over time he came to appreciate his clan’s traditions and made his way home. He had become a stranger to his clan - the child who left was gone.