3. Declan

Chapter 3

Declan

I wobbled a bit but righted myself with a hand on the Keeper’s shoulder. órla, satisfied I was all right, winged her way back into the pond for one last bath before we departed.

Larinda reached down and handed the twine-bound package to me a second time.

“I know th’ golden collar’s haunted ya for years, but too much rests on yer shoulders now. It’s time t’ stand before th’ world and take yer place.”

I cast a confused look at the Keeper. The infernal old man just nodded and motioned toward the package.

“Just open the gift already!” órla squawked.

I formed a tiny ball of water from the far end of the pond and splashed it into órla’s back.

“Hey!” she cried.

I chuckled as I pulled the twine and unfolded the wrapping. A waterfall of shimmering fabric poured into my lap. I gripped it by the corners and unfurled it before my widening eyes.

“I can’t wear this. Nobody wears solid gold .” I gaped.

Larinda grinned. “Nobody but th’ Heir of Magic. T’is yours by right, boy.”

I stared at the glimmering garment. Shades of gold swirled like ripples in a pool. Powerful magic poured from the silky cloth in waves. As I stared, the Phoenix symbol flared to life in the shirt’s center, a steady golden blaze amid a sea of shifting sands. A pulse of heat shot into my fingers, up my arms, and through my chest. I fumbled the tunic.

“It knows ya, boy.” Larinda cackled.

“The shirt knows me? That sounds insane. You know that, right?”

“It has been over a thousand years since anyone wore that tunic. Magic created it to honor and protect its own. It knows you for who you truly are, Declan. Put it on.” There was ceremonial reverence in the Keeper's tone.

I tossed my coat on the floor and stripped off my white linen shirt. As the golden tunic fell across my shoulders, I shuddered. When I’d held the shirt before me, it looked to be sized for a small boy of ten, but the moment the fabric met my skin, a tingle crawled across my chest until the shirt fit perfectly. Its short sleeves molded themselves around my biceps, enhancing my physique in a way I was sure Ayden would appreciate.

Ayden. My heart sank. What will he say? What will he think? He has no Gift, and now—

órla cooed. “A prince, indeed.”

A grin curled across my lips as I glanced down at my feathered friend. “All right. I’ll admit it. I do look good in gold.”

Then I realized something else.

The fabric felt cool and dry against my skin. The sweltering tropical heat and humidity that usually stifled my breathing had vanished. I ran my hand across my forehead, and the sheen of sweat I’d come to expect while on the island wasn’t there. I could feel the heat of the surrounding air, but it didn’t reach my body anymore.

It felt like being in the mountains all over again. It felt like home.

“I’ve never felt anything . . . I’m not hot or sweating anymore. This is incredible.”

“Just wait. When you get home and face winter’s fury, the tunic will respond. The sleeves will lengthen, and warmth will follow you wherever you go.” The Keeper grinned. “But it will also protect you in other ways. No blade will penetrate its fabric, arrows will bounce away, and magical attacks will have a lessened impact.”

I ran fingers across the silky fabric. I couldn't find words. It felt surreal that I could be gifted with something of such magnitude and strength.

“When you go home, there will be times you will want to hide the gold, moments where you want to be less conspicuous. Imagine you are there now. Think of hiding the tunic. See it in your mind,” the Keeper said.

I cocked my head.

How do you think something into hiding?

I imagined myself walking through Saltstone, surrounded by golden collars. The tunic would stand out, and not necessarily in a well-accepted way. I pictured myself in my deep-green uniform. I had always felt more comfortable in my Rangers’ Greens than anything else.

When I looked down, the tunic was a dull green. There was no hint of the Phoenix on my chest. My head snapped up, and my eyes shot to the Keeper, dumbfounded.

The old man nodded. “Good. That is good; but know this, an arrow shot into your eye will still kill you. A bolt to the leg will lame. The tunic has power, but it also has limits.”

I looked toward Larinda. “Mother Larinda, I don’t know what to say. This is the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. Thank you.”

Her expression sobered. “The whole world rests on yer shoulders, boy. T’at shirt’s nothin’ compared t’ what ya gonna need. Don’t t’ank me till ya make it through th’ nights to come.”

Some of my childlike enthusiasm drained away at her words.

“It is time, Declan,” the Keeper said, his voice again formal. “You have many leagues to travel, and the weight of men and magic to carry. May the Spirits guide your path and the Phoenix herself shield you.”

“By the Light,” órla intoned.

“By the Light,” Larinda echoed.

The tunic turned golden and flared brightly once more before dulling to its natural sheen.

I blinked, unsure what had just happened but sensing the fork in the path before me. I could feel it in my soul, as though standing on some celestial road and choosing the fate of mankind.

The Keeper’s hand found one shoulder the moment órla’s talons landed on the other. The Keeper’s eyes held such depth. Had I not known better, I would have thought it an unbound love, though that made little sense from the mystical old man.

Then he said, “It is time, my son.”

It was midmorning. The Keeper escorted órla and me to the northern edge of the village. As if my height, blond hair, and pale skin didn’t stand out enough in the tropical paradise, the gold of my tunic reflected the brilliant island sun, sending shards of light in every direction like a lighthouse guiding weary travelers home from the sea.

Islanders gaped as I passed.

The hardy people were rarely shy, but each bowed, and whispers of “Braha” followed in my wake. A crowd of children skittered a few steps behind, eager to wish us fortune and a swift return.

“What’s a Braha?” I asked the Keeper.

órla answered in my mind. “It means ‘Bonded One’ in the old tongue. The first Bonded One lived many ages ago.” Her voice was deep and mournful.

“Why do I get the impression you knew him?”

“You are my Bond-Mate now, but there was another who wore the tunic once. He was special to me, as you are.” She was quiet for a long moment. “Together, through great sacrifice, we saved this world. His memory is honored on these shores, passed as legend from father to son, mother to daughter, throughout the generations. ‘Braha’ is a term of profound respect.”

So many emotions flowed from órla through our bond that I missed a step and stumbled. I knew how deeply she loved me and felt that in our bond every day, but pain, regret, and a resounding loss flowed through me as we walked. I began to understand even more what Bonding meant to the little creature.

How was I so lucky to be her choice?

“It was never luck,” she said, reading my thoughts. “You were born of magic. In a time of great need, you were returned to me.”

I missed another step as I tried to wrap my head around what she’d just said.

“And I was returned to you . ”

The Keeper glanced back. “Time for you two to be on your way. One last word of advice, Declan. I do not know what stirred the currents, but I fear you may face more danger than any single man can handle. I know you are used to being alone, but do not be afraid to lean on others, to use their strength.”

The old man patted my shoulder one last time and turned back toward the village, leaving órla and me staring after him. The throng of children took the Keeper’s cue and waved at us before circling the Keeper and dancing their way back toward the town.

I watched for a long moment, then turned toward the mountain that held the gate that would take us home. “Let’s go home, little one.”

A few hours later, I sat at the round table in the gate’s cave, enjoying a cup of the never-ending wine. I wished I could share this with the Rangers. A Healing draught would work wonders for men who so often returned home wounded or bruised.

I studied the gate, its semi-circular metallic frame staring silently back. I squinted, trying to make out the symbols etched artistically along the frame but quickly realized deciphering magical images was not among my Gifts.

órla finally tired of her grooming and tottered over to take a sip from my cup. Her tiny beak dripped wine as she emerged.

“It is time, Declan. I am afraid events have run ahead of us already,” she said soberly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Stop drinking your wine and let’s go find out.” As mature as she sounded now, the snarky young girl emerged at the oddest times. I smiled and scratched the top of her head, then grabbed the pitcher and filled my skin.

I rose and stood before the gate. With a nod to órla, I said, “After you.”

She flapped her way to my shoulder, and I strode through. The gate shimmered once with silvery brilliance, recognizing the magic within us. In one stride, my foot touched the ground of the gate’s sister-cave high in the mountains on the border between the Kingdom and Melucia. The same round table, wooden chairs, and wine welcomed us. The two grottos were so similar I almost thought the gate bounced us back to the same chamber on the island, but I knew better.

We were home.

“How does it feel to be back?” órla asked.

“I don’t know. Good, I guess.” I shrugged.

I walked toward the slender crack that was the cave’s entrance. “After everything the Keeper and Larinda said about the disturbance in the currents, I don’t really know what to expect out there. It’s only been a few months, but I have a bad feeling that a lot’s changed while we were gone.”

A somber thought occurred to me. “I hope Ayden is still all right.”

órla coo-purred softly.

“Atikus and Keelan were following the Healer’s trail when we left. They could be anywhere by now. Where should we go?”

I ran fingers through my wavy hair. It hadn’t been cut in a while and was starting to hang down rather than curl outward.

“We should go back to the Ranger headquarters and get an update on, well, everything. Captain Whitman may have orders for us.”

“You just want to check on Ayden,” she said, her tone teasing.

“That, too.”

I stopped at the cave’s entrance. Something deep inside didn’t want to leave the warmth and safety of the grotto. Thanks to the magic protecting the gate, I couldn’t feel any cold air blowing through the crevice, but I knew winter lurked just beyond the opening.

I opened my pack and dug out my fur-lined Ranger gloves. While my back was turned, órla hopped inside and nested comfortably in my old clothes. I grinned and scratched her head before pulling the pack onto my back and donning my massive forest-green winter coat. órla said something, but her voice was muffled by all the fur and leather.

“What was that?”

“I said, this is warm and cozy.”

“Good. That won’t last for long. It’s about to get really cold!”

It only took one slip for me to realize how treacherous our descent would be. I searched around, settling on a thick branch I could strip and use as a walking stick. It wasn’t pretty, but it worked, offering a bit of support and a tool to test the ground before each step.

Only a faint hint of sunlight remained.

“We have three mountains to get past before we’re free of the range and reach Grove’s Pass. We should be able to go around the base of two, but the third will force us to climb about halfway up, then descend again. I’m guessing it’ll take us two more days,” I said, whispering in her mind to avoid making noise any Kingdom scouts nearby might overhear. “The trees are barren and aren’t much help against the snow. I think it’s starting to come down even harder.”

“Are you sure we shouldn’t wait until this passes?”

I stared at the forest before me. I could only see a few feet in front of us. Everything beyond was a hazy blur of whiteness.

“You’re right. I’m turning back. We can wait this storm out in the cave.”

The moment my pack hit the cavern floor, órla hopped out and winged her way onto the table. The sound of her pecking an empty glass tinkled through the cave.

“Can a lady get some service in this place?”

I chuckled and shook my head. The world might be coming to an end, but órla could still curl my lips.

Then Ayden’s fiery hair popped into my head, and I had an entirely different reason to smile. As soon as night fell, we would be together again, no matter the distance between us.