58. Declan

Chapter fifty-eight

Declan

K els? and I sat at the table, enjoying the night air and wine. After two years, I still couldn't get enough of the garnet liquid. I took a long sip and sighed.

Kels? set her glass down. "Declan. It's time."

"Time for what?"

"Time you went back to the mainland. I have taught you everything I can, and I sense shifts in magic's currents. Your true trial begins soon." She folded her hands, and her eyes fell.

"My trial? I don't understand."

She hesitated. "I have dreams, Declan, dreams that offer hints of possible futures. They are never clear and only offer a glimpse into what may come to pass, but they are often near the mark. We have been preparing you for battles to come, and I fear they have arrived sooner than we expected. You have to go back."

There was fear in her eyes .

"What have you seen?"

"The end . . ."

"Of what?"

"Everything."

I gaped, unable to speak.

"A woman in gold carrying a long silver staff burning everything in her path. You stood before her. Declan, I saw you—"

"You saw her point her staff, sending magical flames into my chest?"

Her eyes widened. "How did you know?"

"That was one of my visions in the Keeper's trial. I've dreamed it several times since, but I just assumed my mind was reliving the trial."

Her hand flew to her mouth.

"Like you said, it's just a possible future," I said. "One that may come to pass. I'm going back to stop it, right?"

She nodded.

I stood and wrapped her in my arms. "I'll be okay, Mother. You taught me well, and I have órla to watch my back."

On cue, the owl floated down and landed on the table. "Somebody order a magnificent, magical creature? Wait . . . more hugging without me? I'm starting to get a complex."

I pulled her into the hug, though it only took a few seconds for her to squirm and squawk for her freedom .

Kels? sat back and smiled at órla, then up at me. "Tomorrow, we will go down into the village. I would like you to spend the day practicing your Healing. There are always fishhooks in places they should not be." She chuckled. "I love this place, but it really can be weird at times."

I barked a laugh. "Said the timeless woman guarding a mystical Well of unending magic, a woman who pretends to be a cranky old man wearing a turban."

"Okay, point taken." She chuckled and slapped my arm playfully. "Get some rest and pack your things. We leave at first light."

She stood and gave me a kiss on the cheek, then gave órla an affectionate scratch. When she disappeared into the cavern, órla spoke into my mind.

"I know how hard this is for your, Declan, but she's right. I feel the world changing — and not for the better. This is what you've been preparing for."

I nodded. "I know. It's not what lies ahead that has me sad; it's what I'm leaving behind. I'm going to miss her."

órla tottered across the table and nuzzled my hand.

She apparently had no words for what the morrow would bring.

Kels? ushered me out of the cave toward the mountain Path. I offered my arm, and we began our trek toward the village. I was so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I didn't notice Kels? release my arm as we passed the Keeper's cottage. When I turned to search for her, the wrinkled face of a wizened man stared back at me.

"What are you waiting for, young man? One foot in front of the other, or we'll never get there." The man prodded me with his staff.

"Wait. Where are we going? Where is my mother? Where is Kels??" I looked around, feeling a little dizzy.

"You came to me with questions." The man laughed. "We spent the last two years seeking answers."

Just when my head began to spin, a woman's voice rang inside my thoughts.

"Have you forgotten your mother already? This is the mask I must wear when I leave the cavern."

"You could warn me next time," I said, gathering my bearings.

The man chuckled, a deep rumbling sound of stones rubbing together beneath the earth.

Before I could turn to resume our descent, órla flapped onto the stone a few feet in front of me.

"You okay, Dec? You look like you've seen a ghost—and we still aren't sure you can see ghosts." She flew up and perched on my shoulder.

"I'm all right. The Keeper just startled me." I pointed with my eyes to my mother-in-disguise. "Maybe I've just been up here in the thin mountain air too long. The hike down should do me good."

órla nuzzled the crook of my neck.

"You sure are growing fast, little one."

She whispered in my head as we began stepping down the path, "I'm fully grown, silly. Twelve glorious, feathery inches — taller than any saw-whet ever! I'm a record-breaker!"

The village buildings grew from smudges on the sand. Gulls called in the distance, accompanied by the constant roar of waves. The fishy scent of saltwater greeted us as the coastal breeze cooled our now-sunburnt skin. I drew in a deep breath and smiled at the tranquility of the island. Then I chuckled when órla did the same, her tiny exhale carrying a throaty trill.

Two burly, shirtless men carrying fishing nets spotted us. They dropped their nets and raced toward us, one man hobbling as he ran. I reached for my bow, but the Keeper placed a hand on my forearm. When the fishermen stopped a few paces away, puffing heavily, they dropped to one knee and bowed their heads .

"Keeper! What a blessed day!" a deep, rumbling voice said. "What brings ya down t' the village after so long, Honored One?"

The Keeper stepped forward and placed his palm on the man's bald crown. A trickle of pearly magic flowed into the fisherman.

"Rusty, that should help your knee. I know it is bothering you." The Keeper bent and helped the man stand. "Now, run to the village and let Larinda know we are coming. We need to spend the day with her. It is good to see you again, my friend."

"Yessir. And thank ya fer the Healin'." Rusty bobbed and gave us a toothy grin before grabbing the other man and sprinting toward the village.

When they were out of earshot, I turned to the Keeper with a raised brow. "Honored One?"

The Keeper's chortle caught me by surprise, and I swore I saw my mother's eyes flash. "Being ancient and mysterious has its advantages. They think I am something special. Just wait until you see how they treat us in the village."

We walked another few hundred paces into the center of the village, where we were quickly surrounded by kneeling men and women. Villagers rose and followed when the Keeper and I continued toward Larinda's home.

"Uh . . . Honored Keeper , sir, the whole village is following us." I looked nervously behind at the growing throng .

The old man nodded and smiled, humming to himself. HeHe never broke stride or looked back. By the time we stood on Larinda's steps, more than a hundred huddled around and were humming the tune with the Keeper. The old man turned and faced the crowd, switching from humming to singing in a lilting language I didn't recognize. The melody carried an upbeat, happy cadence that inspired a few to clap in time with the words. Several others tapped staccato counter-rhythms with walking sticks and fishing rods. An overwhelming feeling of joy swelled as the voices broke apart in rich, exuberant harmony.

When órla started hooting along and bobbing her head, I laughed and released the tension I'd held since arriving.

Larinda appeared in the doorway and joined in a final chorus that swelled so loudly I felt the porch vibrate. As the last note sounded, the crowd roared with laughter and applause, and many turned and hugged the man or woman beside them. Larinda stepped forward, spun the Keeper around, and wrapped him in a warm embrace.

The crowd erupted again.

"Honored One, been too many years since ya led us in song. Ya be a sight fer t'ese tired old eyes." Tears of joy flowed from both of their eyes.

"Did we walk into someone's family reunion, little one?" I whispered in órla's mind.

"Oh, this is definitely a family like no other." She giggled. "Isn't it wonderful? "

Larinda turned from the Keeper, noticing órla and me for the first time. Her eyes widened, and she covered her mouth with both hands when she saw the not-so-little owl.

"Daughter, you're grown!" She laughed and stretched cupped hands before her so órla could hop down and receive a proper nuzzling. The owl's giggle mixed with a deep coo-purr, creating an odd, vibrant sound of pure pleasure.

Larinda pulled back and stared into órla's eyes, as if listening to some private conversation. A few seconds later, she laughed and peered up at me.

"Ya been up t' a whole mess since I saw ya last, Ranger." She winked at me. "órla say somet'in' about poop on yer boot?"

I stared open-mouthed as Larinda cackled.

She then turned to the crowd. "The Keeper has returned t' us. T'night, the family feasts, t'gether again, at last! Go, git us ready!"

The crowd roared a final time, then drifted apart, many humming the tune as they strolled away.

Larinda led us into her garden.

órla dove into the pond and began bathing herself, while the Keeper and I pulled chairs close to Larinda's throne-like seat. A lanky man wearing nothing but brown linen pants offered everyone a glass from a wicker tray, then disappeared back into the villa .

The Keeper spoke first. "Larinda, my beautiful sister, it is good to see you again after so many years. There is much I wish to hear, but it will all have to wait until the feast. For now, Declan needs your help."

She turned and eyed me thoughtfully. "How can I help ya, young man?"

"Well . . . uh . . ." I fumbled, unsure what my mother wanted me to ask the island's caretaker.

órla called out cheerfully from the pond. "He needs to practice Healing. He kinda stinks at it."

I shook my head and smiled. "She's right about the Healing. I haven't had many people to practice on, and I'll be heading back to the mainland tomorrow."

Larinda leaned forward. "So soon?"

"I'm afraid so. It's time I headed back. My . . . brother needs my help."

"Fine, fine. Let's get ya down t' the street an' find some hurt folk t' work on." She looked back at the Keeper. "But ya watch him. Can't go makin' anythin' worse!"

The Keeper and I spent the rest of the day working on one injury after another. Kels? had been right; the village seemed to be crawling with hurt people. By the time the sun began slipping behind the mountains, I was exhausted and my brain felt like runny oatmeal—but I'd mastered many of the simpler Healing skills. I would need to train with a Master Healer to develop the mental dexterity required when Healing serious internal wounds, but my skill at intermediate injuries had progressed well.

As we climbed back up the steps of Larinda's porch, the old woman appeared in the doorway. She wore a brightly colored robe stitched with images of parrots and lush island plants. She smiled and waved for us to follow.

"We be feastin' by the water t'night."

We strode around Larinda's pavilion, past the ring of huts that surrounded it, to where the path vanished into the sandy beach. Torches stuck into the sand flickered with magical flame, revealing dozens of long tables already set with plates, glasses, and silverware. Men and women bustled back and forth carrying platters of fish, pork, chicken, and more varieties of vegetables and fruits than I could remember seeing in one place.

"How did they do all this since this morning?" I gaped.

"Magical island, remember?" órla's voice crept into my head.

Larinda led us to a table that was shorter than the others, with seating for only a few. It faced the other tables, allowing a view of everyone, while the ocean roared behind. As she motioned for the Keeper and me to sit, a boy struggling with a pitcher approached.

"Wine, Mother Larinda?" He asked in a squeaky, high-pitched voice.

"For all of us. Thank you, Lobo." Larinda ruffled the boy's unruly mane .

Before long, every seat was filled as hundreds of villagers ate, drank, and laughed together. Young boys and girls carrying platters were greeted with "Ooos" and "Ahhs."

First were soups and several kinds of still-warm bread. My mouth watered as I lathered butter onto a slice and took my first bite. Then came an endless stream of vegetables. Beans and peas, greens with little bits of pork, peppery roasted potatoes, and strange little bananas fried to a golden crisp. After the bananas, I lost track.

It was overwhelming, but in the best way.

The chicken and pork I'd seen earlier were placed on the long tables while a massive roasted pig appeared in front of Larinda.

Then came the fish, platter after platter. In all, I counted ten different kinds, each cooked to perfection in its own style.

By the time chocolate arrived, I wanted to cry for mercy. Larinda cackled and grabbed every chocolate within reach.

I sat back, rubbing my overstuffed belly. Everywhere I looked, people smiled and laughed. A few even broke out in song, causing neighboring tables to start their own tune in friendly competition. The ocean breeze carried a feeling of deep contentment and joy.

"Feel it, do ya?" Larinda leaned over, smiling at me.

"Feel what?"

"'Tis a magical place in more ways than ya know." She winked and turned back to her chocolate .

When the last of the plates were removed from the tables, Larinda rose, and everyone turned to the head table.

Every conversation hushed.

"'Tis been many years since the Keeper returned to us. T'night he comes t' send off t'is young man." She pointed her open palm toward me. "Declan Rea, Ranger of Melucia, Bond-Mate of the Daughter of Magic."

The crowd sucked in a collective breath, astonished at the pronouncement, the depths of which they clearly understood better than I had.

Then the beach fell silent.

No one stirred.

Even the waves and wind quieted.

Eyes followed as órla launched herself into the air and flew beyond our sight. When she resolved into view once more, iridescent brilliance lined her body and shimmered each time she flapped her wings. Magic dripped off her like molten lava dribbling down a mountainside. She landed on the table before me and whispered in my head, "Wait for it . . ."

She let out a screech, and the starry night sky exploded with magical light that shimmered from the mountains to the sea. The entire island glowed , and the crowd rose to their feet and hummed the song from earlier in the day. As their humming grew into words, the light of the island pulsed and faded, leaving only órla— and me —aglow. I stood and gaped down at my hands, startled by the azure flames swimming across my skin.

"Not bad for a coming out party, is it?" órla giggled in my head.

The song ended, and every voice cried, "Declan Rea, HEIR OF MAGIC!"

The villagers raised their palms toward the sky, and the glow of magic flared upward from every hand.

The people erupted in cheers and applause.

Larinda hooted and clapped, egging the crowd on.

When órla laughed, this time aloud, I lost myself in the unimaginable happiness of a truly magical celebration.