Shattered Illusions (Terra Chronicles Book 2) Page 7

  Sighing, I shook the thoughts from my head and found myself heading toward where I remembered the open market being. Local vendors would rent out the stalls to sell their goods. My mind wandered as much as I did and for once, I did not feel the need to stop it. I had been careful when stealing back then and tried to not be seen. Granted, I had not been able to get away from everyone.

  I could not entirely be certain why I decided to pick Mother’s pocket back then. I knew I needed to test my abilities for what I planned, but why her specifically, I could not remember. I got away initially, but eventually she tracked me down. All things considered, I do not think anyone could have predicted her choosing to take Kitteren and I as her own.

  Pushing my hair back, I found myself annoyed yet again at Kitteren. The dark auburn mass was too long to wear unbound, but I had not the patience to wait and pester her. I still did not understand why she insisted on forcing these changes on me. I tugged at the hem of my dark blue shirt - it clung too tightly to me and came too short for my comfort.

  Moving farther into the market area, I started to see sections I recognized. The shops may have changed and the buildings updated, but they managed to maintain the rustic look from back then. The shops became smaller, the streets narrowed, and then the massive single level structure holding a number of stalls took its place. I wondered if the open courtyard still stood in the center or if they covered it to add space for more sellers. I noticed a sign designating it as a farmer’s market.

  I felt torn between finding comfort in the familiarity or shame as it only served to remind me of a past I would sooner forget. The fog thinned out as I entered the building.

  It was still too early for the shops to be open. Vendors were getting things ready for the day, especially the ones serving food. I caught sight of a small form snagging an apple from a fruit stand and taking off as fast as their short legs could carry them while the shopkeeper attended to other tasks.

  She stopped as soon as she broke sight of the stall and took a bite - a Human girl with dirt covering her well-worn and somewhat tattered pale yellow shirt and what I thought were once tan pants. Filthy curly strawberry-blond hair topped her head as she ate quickly. Too much did I know what that life was like and felt torn between bringing her before the shopkeeper or just letting her be.

  Coming up with a third option, I dug into my pouch and pulled out the wrapped fruit bar while I strode over to her.

  Pale blue eyes turned my way and she realized I had seen her. She turned to run and then stopped when I held out the item. She took hesitant steps over to look at it, snatched it up, and disappeared down the next turn.

  The fruit bar would quiet her stomach for a little while.

  I closed my eyes to the memories of when I stood in her place and pushed back the rising turmoil of my emotions. It would only unsettle my power again. While there had not been any unwanted manifestations of my power, I feared it none-the-less. To me, it would only be a matter of time if I could not figure out how to regain my full control.

  I took a deep breath and opened my eyes, trying to focus on something else. Earlier I passed people beginning to set up for various events around the city.

  The Summer Solstice was about family and sharing tradition. I was interested to see what the different cultural displays and festivities would be. Reading was a poor substitute for the real thing.

  Perhaps, when I got back to the hotel, I could look up a schedule online. I might as well make the most of the unexpected trip.

  The headline on one the the newspapers at a newsstand caught my attention: “Child Disappeared”. Immediately my mind returned to the past when slave traders gathered orphaned children in the area to sell. My hand gripped the scar hiding under my shirt on the left side of my torso from that fight. Were the slave traders taking children again?

  “Ket!” Kitteren called and I heard her running toward me. “There you are. Why did you leave without me?” She sounded out of breath and somewhat panicked.

  I dropped my hand and shrugged, not bothering to face her. Telling her I needed time to see the city for myself and think seemed too heavy of a topic for this hour, but I also could not tear my eyes away from the picture of the smiling Human boy in the article.

  “Must be a slow news day if they’re reporting runaways.” She nervously rocked back on her heels a couple of times, the movement of her arms telling me she wrung her hands behind her back. “We should get going. Mom and Dad are arriving today.”

  I made a face at her for her uncaring attitude and moved away from the newsstand heading in the direction of the courtyard. The fog began getting thicker again as I walked. If I said anything about the article, then I would have to tell her things I did not want to.

  I also knew our adopted parent’s itinerary, “They aren’t arriving until this afternoon. I don’t want to spend…” A bronze statue made me lose my train of thought.

  There were two children cast in bronze, one curled up, crying, and the other comforting. The one who sat beside the distressed child caught my attention - fairie-like wings sprouted from her back and long hair fell unkempt around her. Her dress was torn and tattered.

  Getting closer to see better through the thick fog hanging in the courtyard, I peered up into the fairie’s face. It was a child’s face, but not one I recognized. Elven-like ears poked out from under the mass of hair.

  I turned on Kitteren then, angry, and slipped into the common dialect we grew up with, “You told me no one would remember.” I kept my voice low and fought to keep my emotions in check, but I felt betrayed.

  Kitteren put her hands up defensively. “I didn’t lie. This has fallen into legend. It’s a story, that’s all. Those children that you and Mom freed back then eventually grew up, but then the details were like a myth. This was put up almost 25 years ago, Ket. I have the same hair color you do and no one has ever accused me of being the fairie.”

  Hair color? What else did she not tell me? What was still being told? Narrowing my eyes at my sister briefly, I then turned to lean forward to read the plaque. It spoke of the fairie being a mischief maker and a thief, but would only take enough for herself. That part was wrong: I made sure I always got enough for Kitteren.

  It went on about how the fairie looked after the lost and forgotten children of the world. Where had that come from? Admittedly, I had no reason to try and free the others, but it was not right for them to have their chance at a better life taken away. They had already been shunned once by the church which originally took them in. To then be taken for profit from the people who stepped up to care for them - I could not let that stand.

  But Kitteren spoke true - just a story. One which had a base in reality, but had been overly embellished in the following years. Something told me Mother was involved in the story telling. She often enjoyed trading tales and this sounded like something she would construct.

  I decided to drop the topic for now and move on - this was a reminder of the past and for me, walking away from the statue was as close to moving forward as I could manage right now.

  I heard a sigh of relief from behind me. It did not mean I would forget this or let the matter drop completely, but I did not want to continue our conversation in the presence of the statue.

  After getting out of sight of it, I sat down on a bench. Kitteren sat next to me - her movements slow and cautious.

  Eying her for a moment, I leaned back and crossed my arms over my chest. There was a chill in the air, but I had always gotten cold easily. I admitted to her, “I shouldn’t be here.”

  “Ket…” Kitteren groaned, exasperated.

  I just wished she understood how much work I had to do. It felt like the lab work at least tripled and then there was trying to balance everything else. I could not afford time-off, yet here I was.

  Silver might also follow me here sometime in the next few days. I still held a sliver of hope he would turn down Lockonis’ request. We had work to do now that he completed the basic part of h
is training. Both of us being away made no sense.

  It made even less sense for him to be sent here with me. The orders he received said little more than further information coming. I had not yet brought the question up to Kitteren, unsure if she even knew anything about it, but I had too many things to deal with and kept getting easily distracted.

  Just the recent discovery I made with the Arcane College pins alone would normally have kept my attention back at the main office. Certainly I would be pulling even longer hours trying to work on those and the backlog at the same time. Then I needed to deal with Sparky…

  “I’d rather have you whining about not wanting to be here than working,” Kitteren said, breaking my train of thought.

  Sighing, I rubbed my arms and decided not to start another fight right now. “I just… I don’t want to remember this part of our lives. Living on the streets, barely alive.”

  “Yeah, and look at us now.” She puffed up her chest proudly. Deflating a little, Kitteren looked around. “Sometimes it helps to remember where you came from to better appreciate where you are.”

  I remained silent, trying to think on Kitteren’s words, but my mind kept drifting back to the article I had seen. She might be right and the child had simply run away. I had not actually read it.

  My sister took a deep breath and leaned forward - her eyes dead ahead. “Ketayl, I really don’t remember anything about where we are from. I barely remember this place. I keep pestering you for information to try and fill-in some of the gaps.”

  Losing the last of my anger, I looked down at my feet. “It isn’t surprising - you were sick and slept a lot. I’m just glad you grew out of it.”

  “Yeah, having Neshal’s Disease sucked. Lost a good 10 years,” Kitteren said. “You could have left me for dead to try and make a better life for yourself, but you didn’t.”

  “You’re my sister.” I had a duty to look after her to the best of my ability. Even if it meant leaving her in another’s care.

  Kitteren turned toward me and smirked. “And you remind me I’m technically your half-sister when you’re mad at me.”

  I shrugged. We sat in silence a while, and I gave thought to her words. I still could not shake the feeling being here was wrong. As if history would repeat itself because of my presence.

  ~*~

  I dragged along behind Kitteren down a familiar dirt road later that morning. The road had been widened and better maintained, but it was still dirt. Why had she seemed nervous about being in the open market area earlier? If anyone should have been avoiding it, it would have been me. Though now I planned to avoid it if I could.

  My sister practically skipped down the road. A little white picket fence sat between tall, thick bushes. I hesitated as she let herself into the yard, falling back to the tall bushes lining the road and out of sight of the house. I clutched the small white bag I carried tightly. Closing my eyes, I reminded myself Kitteren would not have brought me along if I was not welcome, but it had been so long and I could not be sure I wanted to revisit this part of my life.

  “Papa!” Kitteren called out. I never could bring myself to use her term for some reason even with just myself.

  “You’re here!” I heard Don’s voice. It sounded older, but not like a man dying. A moment later, he asked sadly, “You weren’t able to convince her to come again?”

  I started to peek around the corner, not sure what to expect.

  Kitteren turned around, “Where…? Ketayl, come on. You didn’t fly all the way here to hide behind the bushes.” She came back, grabbed my hand and pulled me through the open gate.

  Don strode up to me, his walk not quite as strong, but still sure. Wrinkles were prominent on his face and hands, his hair had turned white, and even hunched over slightly, he still stood taller than me. “Oh, my brownie, how you’ve grown. Such a beautiful young lady.” He placed his hands on mine. “And it’s so nice to be able to see your face,” he laughed, tucking my hair behind my ear.

  “Don, who is…?” A Human woman who looked to be about Don’s age came out of the house, drying her hands on her apron. “This is a most pleasant surprise to have both of our Elven girls.”

  I looked to Kitteren, confused. I had never met this woman before and she had not mentioned her.

  Don moved and stood next to the new woman, putting his arm around her. “This is my wife, Alice. We met not too long after Lindale took you two in.”

  I bowed formally unsure what else to do. Why had Kitteren not warned me about her ahead of time? Was there anyone else I should know about?

  “None of that now,” Alice chided. “I must have you at a disadvantage - between what Don, Kitteren, and Lindale have told me over the years, I almost feel like you’re one of my children.”

  The statement put me on edge. What had they been saying?

  “And she’s still as talkative as ever,” Don teased. Then I realized I had not spoken a word during the entire exchange. “Well, come on in. I’ll get some tea going. You still like lavender with honey?”

  I nodded shyly. Don originally introduced me to it. He said it was something he loved from his homeland. Lavender did not normally grow in this part of the Northern Isles, but he used to keep a small garden with some behind the house. It did, however, grow in Elven Territory where I lived so I had been able to get my hands on the flower easily before we left Great Tree. I clutched the small bag I carried tighter.

  “Geez, Ket, I know you have a voice - you’ve been using it to give me grief lately,” Kitteren said, tugging on my hair lightly.

  “Sorry,” I said softly and offered the bag to Don.

  He took it, opening the bag to see what I brought and smiled. It contained a mix of pre-made bags of lavender tea as well as seeds for him to plant more. Kitteren suggested the seeds.

  Don smiled at me as he held the door open for us. “You were always a child of few words. And thank you very much for the gift. I fear the two of us will be the only ones who will enjoy it. Never could get anyone else to drink it.”

  The interior had been updated: the wall between the front common room and the foyer removed, the flowery wallpaper replaced by soft white paint and much of the walls covered by picture frames of varying sizes and styles. The changes to the building did not throw me off as much as the perspective with my height difference. I remembered having to climb on furniture to clean, but now I could reach those same areas easily.

  The pictures were of him and Alice as well as who I could presume were their children and grandchildren from over the years. Kitteren and both of our adopted parents showed up in some. I intruded upon the special connection they had.

  I also started getting nervous about the fact there were all these people I did not know and would likely end up meeting. Mentally I cursed my sister in a manner I would never voice. I tried to justify my lack of knowledge as I had been removed from this life for so long.

  “The only one we’ve ever been missing is you,” Don said as he came up behind me. Patting my shoulder, he moved away toward the kitchen.

  “And I intend to remedy that tonight,” Alice said. “Provided your parent’s travel plans haven’t changed.”

  Kitteren smiled, plopping into a chair, “They arrive in a few hours - their flight here was delayed a little.” Her movements made me notice the mismatched furniture I remembered also changed. My mind had overlaid the past on the present. I closed my eyes for a moment to try and clear the disorientation.

  “Wonderful,” Alice said as she took a seat. “We’ve planned to have everyone over for dinner this evening. Though I’m curious why you two came separately.”

  Kitteren looked at me. I stayed standing near the corner leading back to the kitchen. “You can sit down you know.” Turning back to Alice without waiting for me to respond, she said, “Ketayl had business in Ocean’s Edge yesterday and I wanted to get her here before she could change her mind. Mom needed to finish up with her students.”

  I debated my next course of action
as I looked down the hall past the stairs and toward the open kitchen/dining area.

  Both women looked at me expectantly when I turned back and it made me uneasy. I bowed and excused myself, “I’m going to go help with the tea.”

  I quickly made my way down the hall. I brushed my fingers along the decorated door on my right. Don used to keep his medical supplies in there. Well, the non-perishable items anyway.

  I remembered Don getting an emergency patient one time while I had been in the house. I hid in the back corner behind some boxes to remain out of sight. I swore I had been in there for hours.

  I stepped lightly, not wanting to interrupt him, but needing to know why Kitteren said he was dying. It made it harder to try and accept her words.

  “Well, come in. No need to lurk,” Don said. He never looked away from where he prepared a tray for tea. He had two different teapots ready.

  “Do you need help?”

  Don turned to smile at me. “We’ll be in trouble the day I need help boiling water. So what is it that finally brought you back here?”

  I looked down at my hands, moving further in so as not to be heard by the others. “Kitteren… she said you were dying.”

  The water started to boil. Don sighed in a resigned tone and set about making the tea as he spoke. “A little dramatic. I fear she may have been overzealous in her attempts to convince you to come visit. I’ll speak with her later on the matter.”

  I tilted my head to the side, not sure what he meant.

  “My dear brownie,” Don started and I had a feeling I was not going to like what I heard. “I know you kept your distance for a reason. You have nothing to fear here now.”

  I shifted from one foot to the other, unsure of where he was heading with this.

  “Now as for what your sister said,” Don paused and there was tension in his body. “For a Human my age, I’m healthy, but I’m getting old. I don’t have many years left and I fear this old man may have pestered your sister a little too much about being able to see both of my Elven girls again.”

  I thought about Kitteren’s words. She specifically worded it as his time was limited, but not elaborating upon the statement would be a fault of both of us - her for not clarifying and me for not asking.