Epilogue, p.6
Epilogue, page 6
She looked genuinely surprised. “He told you?”
I shrugged. “In that first year, we had a lot of long nights stuck in barn hay lofts or stables. We didn’t have a whole lot to do. Blake and I got it out of him, and after that, he just wouldn’t shut up about her. You know how he loves his speeches. The description matches up, so I’m pretty sure that’s the right Sara. She was always the one for him, at least for the first couple of years.”
“Oh,” Jen answered noncommittally. There was a troubled look haunting her expression, but I couldn’t be sure what caused it. She closed her eyes again, slouching a bit. She looked like she was exhausted beyond belief.
“To dou valensel?” I asked tentatively.
“Ugh, no. Well, yes, I’m okay, but stop that. Sorry,” Jen added, rubbing at her temples. “English, please. I’m having a hard enough time remembering to use it already. Ala dou daendalasas valensyl masadalel, snekkiva litashav.”
“… So’s your mother.”
She giggled. “You don’t have a clue what I said, do you?”
“Something-something squirrel brain?”
“Glad you picked up on the insult. Wouldn’t want it to go to waste.” She yawned, leaning against the corner of the building. “What’s up with the migraines, anyway?”
“Consequences of magic?” I ventured.
“Doesn’t usually feel like that.”
“You’re the expert.”
Jen must have noticed a tinge of regret in my response, as her eyes reopened. “I’m sure you would’ve felt it someday,” she said quietly.
“I dunno.”
I looked up at the sky, watching a bird fly down and land on the rooftop near us. The clouds had rolled away, leaving an empty expanse of blue above us, hiding the endless void of space. I picked off a blade of grass and threw it at the bird. It caught the air almost instantly and fell to the ground, defeated. The bird cocked its head, as if it were mocking me. If we were still in Cyraveil, it probably would have been, as the eyes of an elf magician.
If we were still in Cyraveil, it would have had an arrow through it a second later. Couldn’t take any chances. But we weren’t, and that meant I probably wouldn’t ever get to learn magic. “I couldn’t even acquire a single etolen …”
“Etolendei,” she filled in. “And that was the problem, you know. You thought of it like you were taking something. Like there were single pieces of spells you could just pick up out of the blue.”
“I’ve heard this lecture,” I muttered.
Jen’s eyes slid shut again, the frown returning to her face. “I wasn’t the best teacher.”
No, that’s not what I wanted. I never wanted Jen to feel sad. I instantly regretted my words. I had to walk it back somehow. “You were a fine teacher; I was a terrible student.”
“My one and only student never learned a thing,” Jen pointed out, laughing. “Nice try though.”
“Eh,” I said. “Maybe I just wasn’t meant to learn magic.”
“Anandelv sed anlev etola,” Jen intoned.
“I think I’ve heard that one before,” I said sarcastically. It was Jen’s turn to pick up a few blades of grass. Hers found their way right into my face, of course, and right at the moment my mouth was open. I spluttered, spitting grass and dirt from my lips.
“Thanks.” I barely heard her whisper, just above a gust of wind that rolled through. We sat silently for a few moments, just enjoying the sunlight and the light breeze.
Jen opened her eyes again, glancing skyward. “It’s almost midday.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, looking up. It took me a moment to remember the significance. “Right! Your … uhh … what was it called again?”
“Something else you can’t pronounce.” Jen smoothed out a patch of grass in front of her, then knelt on her knees. “Do me a favor?”
“Go away?”
She smiled. “Sorry. It’d normally be fine, but I’m exhausted, and I really need this right now. A little privacy would probably help me concentrate better.”
“But …” I started to ask the obvious question, but Jen cut me off.
“No, I have no clue if it’ll still work. I haven’t had a chance to try it yet, obviously.” Jen looked determined, anxious, a little annoyed. I was worried for her, but I had to step aside and let her work through it. Good or ill, she had to give her ritual a try.
“Before you do,” I interrupted. She opened one eye, having just begun to raise her arms to the starting position. “Sara’s still here, you know.”
“Oh!” Jen looked like she’d honestly forgotten. I peered at her more closely, and realized just how debilitated she really was. Her eyes were reddened and drooping, and her entire posture seemed drained and subdued. Had she even slept last night?
“What did you tell her?”
“Just that something happened. And that I couldn’t say anything else.” Jen bit her lip, opening both eyes to look at me.
I sighed. “Matt’s gonna give you hell for that.”
“I know,” she said nervously. “He’ll understand though, right?”
I didn’t answer. Both Jen and I were thinking about the same event. Matt could become a pretty scary guy when his orders weren’t followed. Yeah, he usually had the best plan, and sometimes it was necessary for him to shout his men down—but still. It was a far cry from the guy who just took everything for granted and never liked to get involved in anything serious. I can’t believe it took more than a year before I finally ditched him.
“I’ll go hang out with Sara then,” I added awkwardly, after a few moments of silence. I stood up and walked away to join Sara, who was leaning against the far corner of the portable. She’d been watching kids running around the track for gym class, eyes glazed over.
Sara was a pretty good-looking girl. Blond, tall, all the right curves. I could see why Matt had obsessed over her for so long. She’d been the only girl in his life before we’d left, to hear him tell it. Kind of strange I’d never met or seen her once though. His little sister’s best friend too (so I assumed), and she had no clue? Weird relationship, in my opinion.
But who was I to judge? Especially after some of the relationships I’d had … Yeah, Matt was free to love whomever he liked. Not my business.
“You just gonna stare all day?” asked Sara, still watching the track.
I gulped. How’d she notice me?
Was I really that bad at moving around now? Even outside on rough ground I should have been able to sneak up on a lone, ordinary teenager. This was just sad.
“Sorry.” I pointedly stopped next to her and watched the track as well. As far as I could tell, nothing interesting was happening down there. Sara seemed to agree, and at the same moment we both turned around to look back at Jen.
“What is she doing?” she asked, stupefied.
“Just stay here and don’t talk too loud, okay?” I touched her arm lightly as she started to walk back toward Jen. She stopped, twisting around to look at me strangely—with hostility. Did I do something wrong? I let go immediately, and she returned to leaning against the portable without comment.
I couldn’t fault her curiosity. Jen was currently sitting on her feet, knees pressed into the grass. Her arms weaved a curious dance around her entire body, regularly tapping specific points. There was no apparent pattern, but there was an elegance to how her hands moved through the air. Her mouth kept uttering short phrases, bursts of Etoline I couldn’t make out from this far away.
One of the few times I’d persuaded her to explain in more detail, she’d described it as something like meditation. I knew it had something to do with her magic, but beyond that, I was clueless. I had to admit, from an outsider’s perspective, it definitely looked weird.
“But seriously,” Sara asked, much more quietly, “what is she doing?”
“She’s concentrating.” It was as close to an explanation as I was willing to offer right then.
Sara raised an eyebrow. “Are you guys all on drugs or something?”
“God no. I’d never touch them. Waste of my brain,” I snapped. A bit more harsh than I’d intended, but it was a sticking point for me after a certain … incident in the Sylkaedr market.
“Jeez, sorry. Forget I asked.” Sara turned back to watch Jen.
“Sorry,” I added. “I’m having a weird day.”
Sara sighed. “You and her both. It’s like she got replaced with an alien overnight. But she still knows me, and she’s definitely still my best friend. I still love her to death.” She shook her head. “Why am I telling you this?”
“Because I’m here, and because I’m one of the very, very few people in the world who knows what’s going on,” I answered honestly.
Sara looked at me oddly. “… Yeah.” She shrugged. “And about that. Jen refused to tell me anything. I’m guessing you’re going to say the same thing?”
I paused, considering my answer. “It’s not my place to tell you.”
“What kind of crappy non-answer is that?” she snapped. She was fiery, didn’t take any shit. I could see why they liked her. Well, Jen at least. Old Matt probably liked that, but I wasn’t so sure he’d feel the same way anymore.
“Okay,” I conceded. “I could tell you, but Jen could tell you more, and do a better job at it too. And there’s a lot more of it I don’t know, and some of it I’m not sure she’d want anyone to know. And besides that, we’re not the only two people involved.”
“Matt too, right?”
My eyes widened a little. “She told you?”
“Not exactly. Close enough though.” Sara frowned. “Look, I can keep secrets. Jenny—”
“Jen.”
“Goddammit. Okay. Jen knows that about me. So take the time you guys need,” Sara continued, “but remember you’ve got friends. Right?”
“… Right.”
“Okay then.” Sara brightened up a little. “So what’s up with … whatever is going on over there?” She gestured vaguely toward Jen, who had sped up by now to the third stage.
“Again, Jen’s business.”
“No fun at all.” She sighed. “Your name’s Carl, then?”
“Yeah.”
“Sara.” She extended a hand.
“Nice to meet you.” I shook it firmly. Of course, Jen had already told me her name a few minutes ago, but apparently she liked to be formal about it. I appreciated that, actually. It was protocol. It reminded me of the court, and all the nobles I needed to get back to playing off one another.
Greetings done with, we both turned to watch Jen’s ritual continue. It should have only taken a few minutes to complete, but she was still going. That meant something was wrong. I took a few steps toward her.
Instantly, her eyes flew open, her hands dropping to her sides. She adjusted herself so she wasn’t sitting on her feet, which looked horribly uncomfortable to me in the first place. I sat down across from her, just outside the circle she’d formed in the grass. “Jen?” I asked, uncertain.
“Vei toldeka litev,” she said slowly. Her head swiveled left and right, searching for something I couldn’t see. “Vei totevas vei vaselvas etola, dasa …” She looked like she would keep muttering all day in Etoline if I didn’t interrupt.
“Sylajen,” I said sharply, using her title with as much emphasis as I could. Jen immediately snapped out of it, staring at me in confusion. It took her a few seconds to come back to her senses.
“… Sorry. I’m not sure what happened. I thought I felt something, and I kept going at it, but I guess it might’ve just been the wind …” Jen trailed off again. Sara glanced at me quizzically.
“Don’t look at me,” I answered, shrugging.
Jen started. She looked like she’d forgotten where we were again. “Sorry. Hi.”
“Hi yourself,” said Sara. “You back from cloudland?”
“Cloudland?” Jen asked, puzzled—then her face lit up. “Cloudland!” She grinned. “How did I forget about Cloudland?”
I was feeling left out. “Cloudland?”
“None of your business,” Jen and Sara said in unison. It sounded rehearsed, like they’d said it a thousand times. Clearly an inside joke I wasn’t ever going to get.
Whatever. As long as Jen wasn’t so mopey, I could live with that. I hated seeing her like that.
“Class has gotta be almost over, right?” asked Jen, with a sidelong glance toward the main school building.
I pulled out my phone to check the time. “Nope. Plenty of time left.”
Jen was looking at my phone with an odd expression. I had no idea what she was intending, and that worried me a bit. I didn’t understand half of what she said, but I usually knew what she was going to do when we were out in the field. “What?”
“Can I borrow that?”
“My phone?”
“It can go on the …” Jen’s face contorted in frustration.
“Internet.”
“Yeah.” Her face flushed in embarrassment again. Is it horrible of me that I found it cute? She was so clearly struggling, yet I found it endearing, and I was happy to help her. Did that make me a horrible person, enjoying someone’s discomfort solely because I was one of the very few people who could help?
While I was getting introspective, Jen was getting impatient. She snatched my phone from my hand.
“Hey!”
“Calm down, kapar-basal,” Jen snapped. “I just need a minute.” She scurried back into the corner, scrolling through menus. I was deathly curious what was so urgent, overriding my annoyance at the casual insult.
“What are you doing?”
“Don’t worry about it.” She started to type something. I resigned myself to finding out later. I doubted she remembered how to clear a browser history.
Sara seemed to have given up entirely on trying to understand. She stood off to the side, watching us in silence. I wished more than anything that she would just disappear. Sara didn’t belong here. Not with us. She wasn’t part of our group. She hadn’t earned the right to be here. She hadn’t been through the pain and suffering, or felt the power and magic. She was just an ordinary person.
We were special, Jen and I. Sara couldn’t possibly understand. She didn’t deserve to understand.
But she was Jen’s best friend, and maybe that was something Jen needed right now. I could understand that, I guess. I had a best friend too, and I was desperate to see him.
“All good,” said Jen finally. She handed the phone back, and I pocketed it without looking at the screen. “Vannen dou,” she said, giving me a small smile.
“No problem.”
Sara cut in, killing the moment. “So are you gonna explain the whole new language thing? Or why you suddenly talk with an accent I’ve never heard before?”
Jen swiveled around to face her. “Sara, I …” she started, but I cut her off. I wanted to save her the effort.
“We can’t. But act like Jen’s only just learned English, and you’ll be doing her a huge favor.”
Sara’s eyes widened. “That bad?”
“No,” answered Jen, rolling her eyes at me. I shrugged. Her accent was greatly diminished as she continued. “I still know English. Just not as well as Eto—”
“Jen,” I interrupted warningly. She stopped in time. It might have seemed harsh, but any terminology, any details, anything at all leaked to the wrong third party would mean trouble for all of us. I was just looking out for her.
Sara’s eyes narrowed. “Hey, let her talk.”
“No, he’s right,” said Jen quietly. “Sorry, Sara. Seriously. I’ll tell you if I can. Soon.”
She hesitated, but she nodded. “I’m holding you to that. Getting really tired of that line.”
The patter of raindrops started up again. A moment later, it opened up into the layered roar of a shower crashing down on the rooftops all around us. We all looked up, shocked. The sky had been practically clear moments before. Was this just a normal Oregon downpour? I glanced at Jen, who seemed just as surprised. I’d seen her do amazing things before. Shifting the weather to favor us in a battle was even in her repertoire …
“Jen?”
She answered me instantly. “Nope.” We’d been thinking the same thing, as usual. “Come on!”
Pulling on our coats, we hurried to the nearest entrance. The rain was coming down in buckets. We made it inside before we got soaked. It was lucky the portable had a slight overhanging cover, or else we’d have been drenched almost immediately.
Sara glanced at the nearest clock. “We should probably get back to class.”
“Yeah,” I replied.
“What will you do?” Jen asked me. She had a point. I could hardly hide outside in that downpour.
“Class is almost over. I’ll just head to the cafeteria now, say I was let out early. I’ll grab us a table in the corner.”
“Selnou. See you there.” Jen started walking away, and Sara hurried to catch up. I didn’t envy Jen now. Sara seemed like she’d be hard to shake off. There was no way Matt would be okay with her joining our conversation at lunch though. Once we met up with Blake, we had some serious planning to do.
The food wasn’t as bad as I remembered. Sure, it was mostly bland generic American foods, but it could have been worse. To be honest, I’d kind of missed pizza, even unremarkable pizza like this. Pizza and soda were things Cyraveil could definitely use. I had no idea how I might carbonate water and flavor there, but maybe Jen and I could devise something using magic.
Magic, right? We had magic. Who’d want to live on this stupid planet when you could have magic?
My ideas of improving our quality of life would have to wait though, as the only human to ever achieve anything with elven etola walked into the cafeteria. Or, more accurately, she jogged in. Jen looked like she was trying to get through the room as quickly as possible without drawing attention to herself, weaving through the crowd. She didn’t have much skill in it, to be honest. She mostly just stuck to the edge of the room, for better or worse. Cities and crowds were my turf. Jen was at home in the forest.
I spotted Sara a few steps behind her, trying to get Jen’s attention and point her in the right direction, but evidently failing. I stood up and waved at both of them.
