Wing & Nien Read online

  “Your feelings are pretty finely tuned.”

  Wing offered him a smile.

  Whatever, Nien thought. Having Wing in his mind had never been unnerving, even if he joked about it. Knowing it was possible made him feel alive, less alone, connected. It was only that, as children, he’d never questioned it. Wing had not spoken much back then, and so they’d communicated almost exclusively through their minds, supplemented by the occasional hand gesture.

  Nien was pleased to see they still had that connection. It made him believe that, as long as they were together, anything was possible.

  “For being so repressed,” Nien said with a wink, “we still managed quite a day. Saw a shy’teh. Fell, literally, into a labyrinth of caves — ”

  “I fell,” Wing corrected. “You came down nice and gentle-like on your vine rope.”

  “You fell, and though I would have taken it for you, I’m glad one of us did. What a discovery!” Nien’s smile was huge.

  “Too bad we can’t tell anyone,” Wing said.

  “E’te,” Nien said, his countenance falling. “Not that you have much of an appetite for it, anyway.”

  “No,” Wing admitted.

  “You seemed curious enough once Carly and I shed a little light into that hole of yours,” Nien said, snorting with a small dose of satisfaction.

  “Just don’t get the idea that you have to push me into impossible situations before I’ll generate a pulse of interest.”

  “Because that would be true.”

  Wing had never shared Nien’s fierce sense of adventure. As a youth, Wing had been more willing to accommodate Nien in all of his exploits. But they were getting older, and Nien was aware that Wing’s company on such excursions was coming to an end.

  “So — you and Carly?” Nien asked, changing the subject.

  “Yes?”

  Nien smiled at him.

  “What?” Wing said.

  “Are you ever going to make anything official? Or do you just think you’re so wonderful she’ll never look at another man?”

  Wing guffawed. “There is that, but between my work and hers, nothing official seems likely anytime soon.”

  “I suppose a baby might affect Carly’s sword play.”

  The brothers smiled at the image of Carly, pregnant, out on the Cantfield hammering another Cant member into surrender.

  “Not that we mind the practice,” Wing said, “but I think a house might be nice first.”

  “Do you think fa would give you the southing fields for that?”

  “Possibly, though he may not know that a fair bit of ground’s already been cleared in that area.”

  Nien chuckled.

  “Kojko furrows are the nicest, the rows of dirt are warm, soft, and curved just right. As for a home?” Wing added. “I’m sure it’d be great for that, too.”

  “And here I thought we were talking about sword practice.”

  “You might have been.” Wing threw him a grin.

  Nien laughed and slapped Wing on the back and the two walked on, enjoying the night as they made their way toward the bright orange glow of the lantern shining through the back window of their home.

  Opening his eyes, Nien returned to the present. The scene that lay before him now was the same as it had been that night over seven revolutions past when he and Wing had returned from their accidental discovery of the Shy’teh caves. Back then there had been a glimmer in Wing’s eyes, evidence of the tenderness and courage that so often accompany the innocent and naïve. But so much had happened since then, not the least being their people’s interest in Wing which had intensified two-fold, that the glimmer had slowly faded and now Wing’s eye contact was seldom with almost everyone. Only in rare moments could there be seen a flash of something intense and real, sometimes beautiful, sometimes filled with an unmistakable yet indescribable pain.

  Nien’s eyes fixed upon the sweet image of his home, luminous in the deep dark of the southing end of the valley, the only light against mountain and sky. Through the small window on the lower level glowed the light from the kitchen lantern, the one by which Joash and Wing read the Ancient Writings, Jake and Fey played, and Reean knitted. Its flickering flame shining out across the star-lit fields had always guided not only the way of his footsteps but of his heart as well.

  “Let’s go,” Nien said and, kicking his heels into his mount, closed the distance between himself and home.

  Chapter 9

  Home

  T he Cawutt home was a grand structure of Mesko wood. Joash had started to build it for himself, completing it not long after marrying Reean. The back of the home faced the long empty distance toward the Village. On the lower level was one door that might have been part of the wall for no one ever used it, and a companion window which was used all the time by Wing who could be found standing next to it each evening, gazing out into the distant dark. Upstairs was Reean and Joash’s bedroom and opposite it a small room nicknamed the Cove, which had been taken over as Fey’s personal pout space, it being too small for any adult to stand up in. The front of the house faced the fields, the barn with its bright hay loft, corral, and peeiopi coop. The front of the house had a beautifully grained door and a large window through which Reean would often watch her husband and sons as they came in from the fields.

  “Son,” Reean said as Nien came in through the front door from the barn. “How are you? How is Commander Lant?”

  Clearly, she’d heard about what happened in the Village. The news had probably come from Joash since Nien couldn’t imagine that Wing would have wanted to talk about it.

  “As well as can be expected,” Nien answered as he proceeded past Wing, asleep on the divan, into the bedroom at the back that he shared with Wing and their little brother, Jake.

  Reean stepped into the room behind him.

  “The Commander talked with the Cant,” Nien said, tossing his gear down at the foot of his bed and pulling off his boots. Wriggling out of his sweaty shirt and looking around for a new one, he glanced at his mother, knowing that what she really wanted to ask: How is this going to affect Wing? But with Wing in the other room it didn’t seem possible to discuss it, so Nien crawled into another shirt and said, “The Commander is having us continue as we are — training — and I’ll be helping Saam with the smith work.”

  Nien could feel his mother’s eyes on him as they returned into the large main room — an impressive space. Just left of the solid artistry that was the main staircase leading upstairs, stood a large stone fireplace with a carved wooden mantle. Gathered around the fireplace were various wooden stools and soft covered chairs sitting upon an array of hand-woven rugs. At the opposite side of the room sat the large wood-burning stove for cooking and heating the home, as well as a water pump Joash had invented and installed over a wash basin.

  Moving through the main room toward the washbasin, Nien glanced at Wing where he lay, stretched across the leather divan, Fey curled up at his side. A moment later, Joash came in from the barn again, stomping his feet and slapping dirt from his coat. Nien caught his father’s eye and nodded his head toward Wing with the silent question: How is he?

  Joash shrugged a silent: I don’t know.

  Reean said, “Nien, find Jake, will you? It’s time to eat.”

  Nien shook the water from his hands, dried them on his pants and went to find Jake.

  The rest of the family was gathering around the table as Nien came back with Jake on his heels.

  “I’m starving,” Jake announced, reaching for a handful of bread.

  “So am I,” Joash said, “and lucky for me, you now get to say the prayer.”

  Sheepishly, Jake redirected his hand and the prayer was said.

  “I spoke with Carly before I left today,” Nien said, passing the first plate of food.

  Wing nodded, rubbing at his sleepy eyes and yawning. “Uh huh?”

  “She suggested we get together during the season break. Maybe plan a return trip to the caves or something.�
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  Talking about their old capers seemed like it could have been a nice diversion from the distressing events of the day, but it just made things worse. Joash seemed to entirely forget about the large serving plate he was holding and Reean had gone still, the kind of still she became when she was trying to control either her temper or her grief.

  Unthwarted, however, by the awkward moment Jake barked, “I want to go!”

  Nien watched Joash and Reean exchanged glances as Jake looked hopefully at him and Wing.

  “Don’t get your hopes up,” Wing said.

  “Indeed,” Reean said, breathing at last. “If they go, you will not be accompanying them.”

  “Mom!” Jake protested.

  “We’re not getting in trouble for taking you with us again,” Nien said.

  “I was too little then. You wouldn’t get in trouble if I went along now.”

  “Yes, they would,” Reean said. “And so would you.”

  Nien took a bowl from Wing. “Carly was teasing, Jake. We’re not really going.” Jake’s expression fell. “Besides, you and your friends are old enough now to go up on your own.”

  “None of my friends’ parents would ever let them,” Jake replied. “Not that it matters anyway. Without you two, I’d never find them.”

  “That’s why it’s called exploring,” Nien said. “How many times did we have to go before we finally found them?” he asked Wing.

  “Quite a few,” Wing replied.

  Though this was not exactly true, like Wing, Nien had no intention of encouraging Jake by saying otherwise.

  Jake mumbled something under his breath.

  “Ah,” Nien said in a casual tone, “the chances of finding the caves again are next to nothing, anyway. That we found them was pure accident.” He swallowed a mouthful of food. “That we escaped from them was miraculous…” Nien held Jake’s gaze. “The darkness. The cold. The damp. The creepy crawlies. Yosha knows what’s lurking in there. We could have gotten lost in there, trapped, like in the legend. Wing and I could have ended up starving to death as we wandered around, banging into walls. We could have been eaten by something living in there or, worse, ended up eating each other. We were lucky we returned at all.”

  Wing said, “Yuck,” as Jake’s expression grew rather serious.

  Laughing inside, Nien kept his face carefully somber as he reached out under the table and surprised Jake with a quick finger jab to the ribs.

  Jake jumped. “Hey!”

  “Nien, don’t frighten him,” Reean scolded.

  “I’m not afraid,” Jake lied.

  “Well I am,” Nien said. “I’m not going again.” He cast a glance at his mother. “There’s no need to worry. Our days of getting on your bad side are over.”

  Reean tried to smile, but it was obvious she was unsure about that.

  “Where’s the, uh, rest?” Joash asked, more interested now in the lack of gravy than the boys’ taboo trips into the mountains.

  “Sitting over there,” Reean pointed. “I’ll let you guess why.” She swept her eyes dramatically over the pathetically old and far too small family table.

  “We just haven’t had time to make a new one,” Joash said, clearly sorry he’d asked.

  “I’m aware, but this one isn’t to going to grow larger all on its own — if you haven’t noticed the wood is dead — nor will it magically tighten its own legs.”

  As if the point needed affirmation, Jake reached down and grabbed one of the table legs and shook it. Everyone grabbed at their water glasses. Jake laughed and Reean cast Joash, Wing, and Nien a significant look.

  “We’ll get to it as soon as we can,” Joash said, and Nien knew what the rest of the family knew: The busy season of planting would turn into the busy season of harvest which would turn into the busy season of tending and in two revolutions from now they would still be eating at the same table. He, Wing, and Joash could build a house faster.

  Once the meal was finished, Reean and Jake cleaned up, Joash took up his seat near the front door to sharpen his tools, Nien made a quick appraisal of Wing. Usually, he liked to bother Wing to practice the Fultershier language with him or share with him any new insights taken from one of his many contraband books. In light of the day’s events, however, Nien was not surprised to find Wing uninterested.

  So, he grabbed up one of his books and stretched out on his belly on one of the two largest fur rugs in the middle of the room. Wing, obviously pleased to be let alone, worked on his own personal transcription of the Ancient Writings from the large family copy, sitting sideways on the divan, the family copy on his right, his own copy on his lap.

  Other than the Ancient Writings and perhaps a book of letters or notes written by family members and grandparents, an official ban had never been placed on owning other written works simply because none existed, at least for those who were not inclined to great resourcefulness. But curiosity was a character staple for Nien — resourcefulness a natural ally. He had been only a youth when he’d come home with the first book, dug up in one of the many caverns beneath Castle Viyer. No one besides their family, Carly, and Lant knew Nien was in possession of them. Nien suspected that the Council may have an inkling on the matter but, like about a thousand other things, it was a wildly disconcerting topic and therefore left in the ever-growing silence that lived with them like a disaffected spirit.

  Nien had not been long in reading when Joash got up, walked past him and snatched the large family copy of the Ancient Writings from the divan as Wing finished transcribing a line. Nien laughed as Wing looked back to find the family gone. He sighed, dropping his head against the wall behind him.

  Joash sat himself beside the fire with it in his hands and began to read, picking up where they’d left off the night before with prophet poet, Eneefa, knowing as he usually did that the family would gather.

  Reean wiped her hands on her apron, hung it over the back of one of the kitchen chairs and ruffled Nien’s hair as she walked over and sat down next to the fire in a chair beside her knitting basket.

  “ ‘I saw a universe of worlds, spread out against infinity, the way of never-ending’,” Joash read as Fey walked over, crawling up onto his lap from under the huge book. Joash pulled her up and turned her around and then continued to read. “ ‘And me, sadly aware of sunsteps and days, in this one moment was I gifted. I saw the circle come together and the Distant Star came into its center, illuminating all that had long ago fallen into darkness...’ ”

  “Was that Rhegal?” Jake asked, interrupting.

  Joash looked up. “What?”

  “What you just read. Is that referring to someone called Rhegal?”

  Nien saw his father try but fail to cover his grim reaction. “Where did you hear about him?”

  “Well, after what, uh, happened in the Village today, I heard some of the kids talking about him. Some were saying that Wing is here because this man, Rhegal, failed our people. Others were saying that he wasn’t supposed to be the Leader anyway, they just didn’t know that until Wing came along.”

  Joash let the book rest on his knees Fey’s knees. She rubbed her small hands over the pages as Joash said, “Jake, Rhegal was a good man. He may not have been the man the people wanted him to be, but he was a good man.”

  “But…” Jake paused again.

  “Go ahead,” Joash replied. It was clear that he was uncertain about where this was going.

  “Well, it didn’t used to bother me so bad, the talk about, you know, Wing being like the shy’teh and all. But now they’ve started calling him Merehr.”

  A profound silence filled the room. Nien felt the familiar wave of foreboding he always felt when the subject of Merehr came up. It was much worse after what had happened today.

  Joash released his breath very slowly. “Jake,” he said, “we don’t know who the Leader is or when he will come. We don’t, in fact, even know if he will be Rieevan. He may be of a completely different valley or race. The people are guessing, son.�
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  “Well, if...if Rhegal hadn’t messed up, if he hadn’t run off, then he’d be here, he’d be Merehr, and the people would leave us alone.”

  Something flickered in Nien’s mind and he glanced at his father. Joash appeared to have fallen on the same conclusion. “What happened today, Jake? I mean with you?”

  Nien noticed Jake glance across the room at Wing. It was a shy glance, a strange one between the brothers.

  “My friends they’re...well, some of them really believe you’re the one, you know?” he said to Wing. “The others are, well, they’re angry.” Jake’s expression grew hard. “They’re taking it out on me.”

  Silence filled the large living space like an ache.

  Wing had set aside his transcription of the Ancient Writings, leaving the pages open to dry, and he leaned forward, looking at Jake. “I’m sorry, Jake,” he said, his voice pained. “Would it help if I talked to them?”

  Nien watched Jake stiffen. “No,” he said with surprising deliberateness, “it would help if you just stepped up as Merehr.”

  Nien couldn’t help it, he stared briefly at Jake. But his little brother was looking at Wing.

  “It’s not like that,” Joash said, trying to come to Wing’s rescue.

  Wing’s throat worked. “Jake, I feel sorry for your predicament, but I can’t lie to your friends, to the people.”

  “Why does it have to be a lie? You are different! You know it. Everybody knows it. Why don’t you want to be him? I mean, he’s amazing, right? And he’s strange. And you’re well, you’re pretty weird. But in a good way,” he added quickly.

  Nien felt sick to his stomach seeing Wing’s face. He was battling with himself, and Nien wanted to smack Jake on the head for pushing him.

  “Son…” Joash said to Jake, as if to admonish him, as Wing stood up.

  “I am sorry, little brother,” Wing said. And walking across the room, paused briefly at the door, then stepped out into the night.

  As the door closed, Jake said, “I knew I shouldn’t have said anything. I can never say anything.” Bitterness filled his otherwise boyish voice. “But everyone else can. Everyone else is talking about it! Especially after what happened this morning. Why’d Wing just ride off?”