32. Colt

That evening, before they met with Bridge's family in the living room to eat, Colt pulled on clean clothes that Gilda had washed for him—as well as for Owen and Brom, a fact she wouldn't let them forget, grumbling through the chore—and sat around the hearth in the back room, where Gilda and Brom sipped from cups of warm apple cider that Bridge had made.

The four of them talked low for a few minutes, enjoying each other's company before they were called to supper. Brom had tried to help their hosts cook, but Agnes and Bridge seemed set on preparing everything themselves.

"While we're gathered," Gilda said, sloshing her drink around in her cup, "we should talk about where to go from here. I'd like to stay another night for Owen's sake, but he seemed to be able to go down to that cave with Bridge just fine today. What do you say, scout?" She looked at him.

"I'm fine to go on," Owen replied. "Walking around today helped me feel a little better, though I'll say we may need to take more breaks when we leave tomorrow."

Colt eyed him, not ready to leave yet so that Owen could get better, but he knew they also couldn't stay here and endanger Bridge and his family.

Brom shuffled in his chair and said, "After hearing Nel and Bridge talk about Blackhurst, that may be where we should go. Supposedly, they smuggle people on ships to Arcmere."

"You want us to try and smuggle our way into Arcmere?" Gilda asked.

"It may be the best thing for us to do at this point. I know leaving the country was the old plan, but we can't keep running all over Avathon either."

Colt knew this plan wasn't what Owen wanted, but if they wanted to lose the Hunters and Wielders for good, it seemed they had no choice but to leave the country.

Finally, Owen nodded and said, "Then we'll head to Blackhurst, and see about sailing to Arcmere." His eyes met Colt's, and Colt smiled faintly at him.

The air went quiet for a moment. Colt's heart ached seeing the sadness fall over Owen's face, so he cleared his throat and asked, "We ready?"

Owen looked at him funny. "To eat?"

"No, to exchange gifts."

When Owen's face lit up, Colt looked away and smiled.

"Colt asked us what we wanted to do, just us, for Winter's Solstice," Gilda said. "Brom and I were rather giddy to find out that we'd all bought each other gifts."

"Really?" Owen's eyebrows popped up. "Well, then I'll get your gifts now." He rushed to his bag, and while they waited, Colt pulled up his own goodies that he'd wrapped up in a blanket.

"I think Brom should go first," Gilda said, as Owen sat back down with a bundled cloth of his own.

"Oh, alright." Brom took in a breath and pulled up a basket. From it, he gave each of them a small glass jar of something dark.

Colt turned it around, observing. It was some kind of preserves. Popping off the lid, he smelled it, and his mouth instantly watered. It smelled sweet, and when he dipped his finger into it and tasted it, an explosion of cinnamon and other spices he didn't recognize burst on his tongue.

"Shit, what is this? It's amazing," Colt said.

"It's apple butter," Brom said, nodding. "We used to eat it back on the farm. It's especially good on bread."

"When did you have time to concoct this?" Gilda asked. "I never once saw you making it."

"There were a few times we had to separate on the Silent Road, remember? And sometimes you'd all be gone hunting or gathering supplies and whatnot for so long, I had to occupy myself somehow."

Owen laughed, then smiled and said, "Thank you, Brom."

"I have to say, this is a very thoughtful gift." Gilda nodded at him and patted him on the back. "It smells wonderful."

Brom nodded, their praise lighting up his face. Next, Gilda gave them all knitted mittens and new hats to match, which they all donned immediately. Brom sighed contentedly as he rubbed his gloved hands together.

"I've been needing a new pair of these," he said. "And I'm glad I finally got a hat too." He tugged the brown knitted hat onto his head, and they all chuckled.

"Here." Colt unwound his cloth and handed Brom a wooden ladle and spatula. He'd spent a lot of time shaving it down just right, and he was proud of how it turned out, with the wood having a rough surface that made it look different from other cooking utensils.

Brom chuckled as he ran his fingers down it. "This is fine work, my friend," he said. "Thank you."

"Ah, you know." Colt shrugged. Clearing his throat, he handed Gilda her gift, which was a wooden figurine of a star with a G carved into it. "Because you're Astran," Colt said. "You know, coming from the heavens and all."

Gilda smiled sheepishly at him. "Aw, Colt, you think I'm heavenly?" She put a finger to her eye and pretended to cry, then she nudged his shoulder lightly. "I adore it. Honestly, no one's ever made me something like this with my Astran ability in mind. Thank you."

Brom let out a breath. "You're going to make me cry over here, O'Malley. Seriously."

When Colt turned to Owen, he did find his eyes glossy, but Owen looked down before he glanced back. It seemed this exchange was getting to him in a good way, and Colt was happy, because if anyone deserved to be happy, it was Owen.

Taking up the honeybee bracelet Colt had bought, he said, "Give me your arm."

When Owen held his left hand out, Colt slipped the bracelet around his wrist and fastened it. Owen raised his hand and studied the leather band, rubbing his finger over the honeybee charm.

"I know how much you like honey, so…" Colt winked.

"I love it," Owen said. He grabbed Colt's hand, and the tender feeling it gave Colt made him squeeze back.

"Well, guess that leaves you now," Colt told him.

Taking in a breath, Owen said, "My gifts aren't as amazing as all yours, but I hope you like them anyway." He handed Brom a pocket knife with a B carved into the handle, and gave Gilda a necklace with a moon charm.

Gilda's lips twitched into a smile. She took the charm from his hand and smoothed a thumb over the crescent moon. "It's beautiful. And now I have a star and a moon. I feel invincible now." She chuckled. "Thank you, Owen." When she looked up at him, a tear rolled down her cheek, and she got up to pull him into a tight hug. Then she tied the necklace around her neck, where the charm rested right beneath her throat.

"Never had a pocket knife with the first letter of my name on it," Brom said, pulling the blade out. "Thanks, my friend."

Owen smiled at Brom, then he turned to Colt and handed him his necklace. "I remember you liked my shark tooth necklace, but I haven't exactly had the time to find shark teeth."

Colt laughed as he drew the leather cord up. There were four wooden beads on each side of some kind of crystal he'd never seen before. It was affixed to the necklace with a thin wire, and it glowed with a dim orange hue. Colt looked up at him seriously.

"What is this?" he asked. "A crystal?"

"Well… it's emberstone."

They all blinked at him in surprise.

"Emberstone?" Gilda asked. "Where in the world did you get your hands on emberstone?"

Everyone knew of the element, though Colt wasn't entirely sure what it was used for. He knew the Legion harvested the crystal, but they were so rare, miners usually risked their lives to find it.

"They're here," Owen said. "That's where Bridge took me today. There's a cave below us, and there are emberstone crystals there. Not very many, but enough for me to chip a piece off."

"There's just emberstone crystals below our feet?" Brom raised his brows.

"I didn't know about it until today."

Colt pulled the small raw crystal up level with his eyes. "But why is it glowing?"

"Bridge told me it glows naturally around Astrans, though once it's harvested and ground, it only glows if we fuse our Essence into it. Do you… like it?" he asked.

"Of course I like it." Colt's lips curled up in the corner. "Now I know how to find you if you wander off."

Suddenly, Gilda let out a dramatic gasp, and Colt, Owen, and Brom jumped and pulled their weapons up from their belts. "No, no, sorry…" she said, waving her hands for them to sit back down. "That's it."

"What's it?" Brom asked.

"Emberstone. That's how Wielders are able to find Astrans. When the Core glows, it means they"re near an Astran. They must use emberstone to find them."

This was a startling revelation, one Colt would have never even thought of as being the key element used in Cores.

"Emberstone is also sometimes called the god element," she went on.

"Bridge said the same, but why?" Owen asked.

"I don't know. I only learned it from Gideon when I lived with him. Or rather, from one of the books in his library. Nobles carry a lot of information in their libraries, but they never actually read the important stuff. It was mentioned briefly in a book about rocks."

Brom cocked his head. "Why were you reading about rocks?"

"So I can be the first to find out useful information for a time like this, you dolt!"

A knock sounded on the door, and then it opened, and Nel appeared in the doorway. "Ma says it's time to eat, and she and Pa fixed a lot, so you'd all better get in here." She smiled.

"We'll be right there," Brom said.

They got up from their chairs at the hearth, Brom and Gilda leading the way, but Colt stopped Owen before they left and looked at him, taking in his brown eyes.

"No one's ever given me something like this before," Colt told him. "Thank you." He kissed his lips, and Owen smiled. "Will you put it on?"

"Yes." Owen pulled the necklace around Colt's neck and fastened it. "It looks good on you."

Colt glanced down at the beads and ran his thumb over the smooth crystal, which glowed softly in reaction to Owen's Essence. It was a strange and euphoric feeling to see such a thing happening before his very eyes, and he wondered how far he would have to get from Owen before it stopped glowing.

Taking Owen's hand, Colt led them out into the living room, where they sat down to a feast of pheasant, potatoes, mushrooms and greens, and yeast rolls. Owen broke out one of the apple butter jars Brom had given them, and everyone loved it so much, they emptied the jar. Owen seemed happy to share with them, and Brom was beaming with pride at how much everyone liked it.

After supper, they all sat around the fire with hot tea and baked cinnamon apples. Bridge and his family had exchanged gifts early that morning. Now, the older man brought many of his books and scrolls into the room and littered the floor with them as they ate their dessert. Owen had told Colt, Gilda, and Brom about Bridge's affiliation with the Alliance, and how Owen's father had been part of it too. Gilda had been excited ever since, and was just as eager to look through the books.

"Your father was exceptional at using his Essence," Bridge told Owen. "He fought for Astran lives, but when he was captured by the Legion, they tried to Cleanse him and found he was Shadowborn. I wasn't surprised, as I knew he was able to wield the Dark Flame."

Owen's face twisted painfully. "Amias told me about it briefly, and I was able to see it for myself when we were pursued by the Hunters. Now I can use the flame freely."

Bridge nodded. "You can also use it to heal physical injuries as well. Your father saved many lives using it."

His father sounded amazing.

Colt glanced over at Owen, noticing how happy he looked, but he also saw the sadness in his features, and Colt understood well the pain of not knowing a parent.

"So, you're telling me that Owen can heal?" Brom asked. "As well as create fire?"

"Yes." Bridge flitted through a book, where several loose pieces of parchment fell from the pages. "Many people think your power is magic, but it's not. It's not something you weave through the air or command. It's part of you. Up here." He tapped his temple.

"Mental," Gilda stated.

Bridge nodded. "Yes, and there are many types of uses." He handed Owen a few pieces of parchment.

Leaning forward, Colt looked at the drawings of two people. Under the first, labeled Astran, were two words written near their head: movement and sensing. The person beside them was labeled Shadowborn, and there were four phrases near their head: movement, sensing, Dark Flame, and mind speaking.

"What is this mind speaking?" Colt asked.

Agnes shifted comfortably in her chair and said, "Shadowborn Astrans are able to speak to each other with their mind." She looked at Owen. "I'm not sure if your father ever experienced that."

"Speak with his mind?" Gilda's eyes widened. "You mean talking, like you and I?"

Bridge nodded. "More or less."

When one of the pieces of parchment fell from Owen's lap, Colt picked it up and looked it over. It was a sketch of a lone black door sat on a hill.

"That was drawn by my father," Bridge said. "The Gate."

Owen tensed beside Colt. "Did your father see it himself?"

"Yes. At the time, the Gate was surrounded by Legion guards, and he couldn't get too close."

Colt looked it over curiously. There were intricate details drawn on the doors of the gate, patterns and grooves that gave off an ancient appeal, and there were candles all around it. It gave Colt a bad feeling.

"How did you obtain all this?" he asked.

"We had a few scouts who worked in Luthien for a while before escaping through the catacombs beneath the city," Bridge answered. "They brought us a lot of information in scrolls and books that the Legion would never dare release to the public."

"Catacombs?" Brom perked up. "Beneath the citadel?"

"They were dug out a long time ago," Nel chimed in, leaning against the hearth with a rag over her shoulder. "By those who followed Aleana. They built the citadels for her. She ruled here in Avathon."

"There are tunnels beneath Alacor in Milarc, too," Agnes said. "They run deep into the earth like a maze."

"So, you're saying the citadels sit over labyrinths?" Colt asked. "What for?"

Bridge shrugged. "It was recorded that Aleana used it as a way for her people to escape the city in case of an attack. Milarc used the idea as well. When Mordren attacked Luthien over two thousand years ago, most of the citizens fled through the tunnels. My father, as well as your own father, enjoyed archaeology, Owen. You'll find some of his loose notes in here." Bridge handed Owen a small leather book that seemed to be falling apart.

After looking it over and flipping through a few pages, Owen gasped, and Colt looked up at him, wondering what he'd just found out.

"This is my father's journal," Owen said. When Bridge nodded, he went on, "I can't believe it…"

"Yes," Bridge replied. "There are many interesting things written in there. Jensen and my father were very close, and both had a love for history and the gods."

Owen rested the book in his lap and cleared his throat as he read, "Alenar is the maker of this world and all its inhabitants. His children, Aleana and Mordren, fought like spoiled siblings, and much was lost due to their negligence."

"Interesting passage, but we all know this story," Brom said.

Bridge clasped his hands. "Yes, but it's important for Owen to know that being Shadowborn ties him to the Gate. The Legion has only killed Shadowborns to ensure one doesn't open it."

Owen shook his head. "It doesn't matter if I am. I don't have a key to open it, and I would never open that Gate if I did."

When Bridge smiled crookedly and looked away, Colt narrowed his eyes. This was all starting to perturb him.

"What?" Owen started. "Do you know where the key is?"

"That's what I'm getting at with all this. You may very well be holding it. That dagger is the same one depicted here." He flipped the pages of the book until it landed on a drawing of a dagger that looked eerily similar to Owen's, from the rigid lines in the steel to the plain hilt.

Colt's heart pounded. "Where did you get this?"

"When our numbers were high, I obtained books from traitors to the Legion, but only after Jensen had been killed. I hardly remembered his dagger, but when I looked it over in the cave, I had a suspicion. Why he didn't tell me about it, I'm not sure."

"Are you suggesting Owen march through the graveyard again and try to open the Gate?" Brom raised an eyebrow.

Bridge shook his head. "No, but I know of others who might want him to, if they find out about him."

A sickening dread fell over Colt as he realized that Rem may have more sinister intentions for Owen than they had originally guessed. For the past hour, they'd gotten lost in gifts, food, and dessert, but now their troubles crashed back down on his shoulders once again.

Gilda's face looked hard as stone. "What do you think will happen if the Gate is opened?"

"Well," Bridge started, "I think the Gate is connected to the Unseen Vale, and whatever is in the Vale will be able to cross into this world."

"And in the Vale lies the dormant one," said Nel. "The evil one. The Harbinger of death. He. Mordren. There's a reason his own father banished him into such a place."

A chill swept over Colt at these words. Words he hadn't heard since he was in school in Luthien as a young boy.

"It's very coincidental, don't you think?" Nel perked up. "A Shadowborn just happens to have a possible key to the Gate to this… netherworld, and here he is, not even fifty miles from it."

"Nel," Agnes warned.

"It's alright." Owen got to his feet so suddenly, they all looked up at him. "She's right. This is all very strange. So it may benefit us if we leave tonight."

"Now, hold on," Bridge interjected. "I admit it's peculiar, and you must tread carefully, but you're welcome to stay until morning."

"I don't want to endanger you anymore than I already have. It's not just Hunters we have after us, but Wielders too. If they come here, and they find Agnes, they'll take her."

"Owen—" Gilda started.

"I've already made the decision," Owen said. "We'll pack our things and be ready to go tonight." He nodded at Bridge, who looked at him in surprise, before making his way to the back room.