by Miriam Thor
in Issue 88, May 2019
A terrified shriek tore through the air, shattering the morning stillness. Espie took off running, still holding the hoe she’d been using in the garden, without making a conscious decision to move. The only other person who should be in this area was her little brother, Liam, and if he was yelling like that, she knew he was either in great danger or pain, possibly both.
Running as fast as she could with her skirt limiting her stride, Espie headed into the woods toward Liam’s favorite patch of wild blackberries. After about a minute, she came to a small hill and forced herself to slow down. All she had to do was climb the gentle slope, and she would see the berry thicket on the other side. Hearing the sound of an animal grunting, she bent over and crept up the hill, still holding her garden hoe. When she reached the top, she lay on her belly and peered down.
What she saw made a knot form in the pit of her stomach. At the base of the hill, past the brambles and berries that grew on its slope, was an irate Aramanthan boar. Standing half the height of a man and having four tusks instead of two, they were by far the most dangerous of their kind. Unlike their smaller kin, however, they weren’t usually aggressive. The boar was doing its best to knock down a small tree. And in the upper branches of that tree was her ten-year-old brother Liam, his freckled face smeared with dirt and terror.
Espie took a deep breath, forcing herself not to take off running toward her brother. If she tried to go down the hill through the berry thicket, her skirt would get caught in the brambles. It would be much safer for both of them if she ran around the hill and approached the boar from the copse of trees on the other side.
Quietly, Espie descended the slope, then made her way quickly around the hill, picking up several stones along the way and using her skirt as a makeshift pouch to hold them. When she made it to the group of trees she’d been aiming for, she slowed her pace and approached her brother and the boar.
When she reached a large tree within easy throwing distance of her quarry, Espie stepped into view and planted herself with the tree at her back. She leaned her hoe against its thick trunk, looked down at the stones she’d gathered on her way here, and shook her head, wishing she had her spear or bow instead of these makeshift weapons.
“Wishing is a waste of time,” her father’s voice said in her memory. “Focus on what is, not what you want it to be.”
Squaring her shoulders, Espie picked up a stone and threw it at the boar. It hit it directly in the left eye, and the large animal turned angrily in her direction, scraping the ground with its front hooves.
Espie picked up another stone and spoke calmly to Liam. “It’ll charge after I throw the next stone. When you’re sure its attention is completely on me, climb down as fast as you can and hide in the thicket. Then, climb to the top of the hill as quietly as you can.” Familiar as he was with this berry patch and wearing tough broadcloth pants, Liam would be able to make his way through the brambles much quicker and quieter than Espie could.
Ignoring her sense of dread, she threw another stone. As it hit the boar directly between the eyes, she let go of her skirt, allowing the stones it still held to tumble to the ground, grabbed her garden hoe, and braced herself. The creature charged at her, its left eye swollen and its right one filled with rage. When it came in range of her weapon, Espie lunged to her right and swung the hoe as if it were an ax and the boar a tree she was chopping down. The hoe’s edge caught the animal in its injured left eye right before it plowed into the tree where Espie had just been standing. The boar fell to the ground on its stomach, bellowing with pain and fury. Not waiting for an invitation, Espie raised the hoe above her head and brought it down on the boar’s head, hoping to keep it dazed.
As she raised the hoe above her head to repeat the motion, she let her eyes flick toward the thicket and found Liam nowhere in sight. Relieved, Espie directed her full attention back to the boar. It was time for her own escape.
As the boar staggered to its feet, Espie moved so that the tree was between them. Unable to see her from its injured left eye, it turned its whole body toward where she’d just been standing. Peaking around the other side of the trunk, Espie found herself behind the large animal. Knowing she’d never escape if she tried to make a run for it, she swung her hoe again, this time hitting the boar in its left rear leg. Roaring, the creature turned around to face her, but Espie was ready. She used all her strength to drive the hoe’s edge into the boar’s uninjured right eye. The animal shrieked and moved back a couple of steps, clearly disoriented. Without hesitating, Espie ran to another tree, knowing the boar would hear her skirt as it dragged through the leaves. Counting on it.
When she made it to the tree, she spun around and saw the boar charging in her direction. As she had before, she waited until it was almost upon her and lunged out of the way. This time she didn’t strike the boar as it rammed into the trunk. Instead, as quiet as she could, she raised her skirts and backed away from the beast, hoping she would be able to slip away from it while it was dazed. She’d only made it a few steps when the boar tried to rise and stopped abruptly, one of its tusks stuck in the trunk of the tree. With a sigh of relief, Espie turned and made her way back into the copse of trees and around the hill. When she made it to the other side, she found Liam sitting at its base, looking anxious.
“What are you doing?” Espie asked, walking over to him. “You should have gone home. If the boar had gotten past me, it might have found you over here.”
Liam’s eyes filled with relief when he saw her, and he got to his feet. There was no point in going home without you, he informed her, employing the sign language he typically used to communicate. I wouldn’t be able to survive there by myself.
Espie suppressed a sigh. Liam hadn’t spoken a word since the day he’d witnessed the Syah’s soldiers murder their father. His scream this morning had been the first time she’d heard his voice in two years, and she’d hoped it had meant that he would start talking again. Apparently, that had been wishful thinking.
“Don’t be silly, Liam,” Espie said, responding to her brother’s statement. “That’s as good as saying that if I die, you might as well die too, and it would be pretty ridiculous for me to die saving you only for you to die a few minutes later.”
She intentionally ignored his claim that he couldn’t survive without her. It had been hard enough for the two of them to survive together after their father died, and Espie had been sixteen at the time. At ten years old, it would be almost impossible for Liam to survive on his own in their cabin, and he would have no way to communicate if he moved to a village.
Shortly after their father’s death, it had become clear to Espie that her brother would not be speaking again for some time, so she’d suggested they create a way for him to talk without using his voice. Once he’d agreed, they’d started inventing signs together, Espie saying words aloud and both of them brainstorming how to sign them. It had taken months for it to become a reliable method of communication. There was no hope that anyone else would be able to understand Liam’s signs, and since he had never learned to write, he would be all but helpless in a village by himself.
As their house came into view, Espie pushed those thoughts aside and ruffled her brother’s curly, red hair. “How did you end up being attacked by an Aramanthan boar?” she asked, determined to change the subject. “They’re usually pretty docile.”
Liam glanced away from her sheepishly. On my way to pick berries, I walked by a big hole in a hillside, he signed. And I felt like something was calling to me from inside it.
“Calling to you?” Espie repeated, wanting to make sure she’d understood him. He nodded.
So, I crawled inside to check it out, he continued. I found what I was looking for wedged into the dirt near the entrance. Then, I saw two baby boars further in. I ran away, but… He shrugged, knowing she could figure out the rest.
Espie stopped walking and looked down at her brother. “You found the thing that called to you?” Espie asked, nonplussed. “What was it?”
I’ll show you once we’re inside, Liam told her. Come on. He walked toward the house casually, like they hadn’t just been almost killed because he’d gotten too close to Aramanthan boarlets. Espie did her best not to glare at his retreating back. She sincerely doubted whatever he’d found was worth the trouble it had caused, but the fact that it had somehow called to him was unsettling.
Feeling almost as nervous as she had facing the boar, Espie followed her brother to the house. She paused at the doorway and leaned the garden hoe against the wall. Its blade, if it could be called that, was coated in boar blood, and she’d have to clean it soon if she didn’t want it to rust. But first, she had to find out exactly what Liam had found in the boar den.
Espie walked into the house and shut the door, looking at her brother expectantly. Dutifully, Liam put his hand into his pocket and withdrew the thing that had nearly cost them their lives. It was a jewel shard, about an inch long, that glowed with a soft, purple light. Espie stared at it, transfixed, as a feeling of dread flowed through her veins. This could not be happening.
“Can I see it?” she asked, holding her hand out to Liam. When he dropped the shard into her open palm, she examined it, careful to keep her face impassive. She had a sinking feeling she knew what this was, but maybe Liam didn’t. Maybe he’d forgotten the stories their father had told them as they sat in front of the fire on winter nights. She hoped so because if he realized what he’d found…
It’s a jewel of power, isn’t it? Liam signed excitedly, tearing her hopes to shreds. Espie held the shard out to Liam, and he took it from her reverently.
“I can’t think of anything else it could be,” Espie admitted reluctantly. “Not an entire jewel, but a piece of one that was broken.”
Liam nodded, his eyes bright. Do you know what this means? he asked, somehow managing to sign while still holding the shard. Papa told us that all the jewels of power were either lost or destroyed but that if even a piece of one was ever found, its power would be enough to—
“I know what he said, Liam,” Espie interrupted, not wanting him to finish his thought. Liam frowned and set the jewel shard on the table.
What’s wrong? he asked, looking confused. If this really is a shard from a jewel of power and we can get it into the right hands, it could be used to overthrow the Syah, to bring peace and justice back to Izoria.
Espie nodded despondently. If her father’s stories were true, jewels of power bestowed incredible powers on those they chose to wield them. There had only been a few “great” jewels, but even the minor ones would bestow enough power to be considered a threat by the Syah, which meant…
“It could also put those who possess it in great danger,” she told Liam, struggling to remain calm.
Liam stared at her incredulously. The Syah and his soldiers are evil! he signed forcefully. They steal from those who barely have enough to survive and force innocent people to become slaves. And anyone who speaks against them is killed! If this shard can help the…the… He paused, frustrated, as he came to a word they hadn’t invented a sign for.
“The Ruveni,” Espie supplied, naming the group of rebels her father had once been part of. Liam nodded emphatically.
If this shard can help them fight the Syah, he continued, we have to bring it to them!
Espie did her best to hide the panic rising within her. Traveling to the Tiroe Forest, where her father had claimed the Ruveni dwelled, would be perilous. If they traveled through the wilderness, they could easily be attacked by creatures much deadlier than an Aramanthan boar, and if they stuck to more populated areas, they could face dangers from other humans, including the Syah’s soldiers, slavers, and possibly the Ruveni themselves.
“You haven’t thought this through, Liam,” she said, clenching her fists. “The chances of us making it safely to Tiroe Forest—”
Are pretty good with the skills Papa taught you, Liam interrupted.
Espie shook her head. “Even if we make it there, the Ruveni might not still be there,” she said. “And if they are, they might think we’re spies or assassins—”
I know it’s dangerous, Liam interrupted. But if we don’t bring the shard to the Ruveni, I will spend the rest of my life wondering just how much suffering could have been prevented if we had. Liam’s gaze softened a little. Papa named you Esparia because he believed in the jewels of power, he signed. He wanted to see the return of the peace he knew they could bring.
Espie nodded, blinking back the tears that sprang to her eyes. Esparia had been the name of the most powerful jewel Izoria had ever seen, the one that Lucan, the legendary mage-king, had wielded. Her father had held on to the hope that the jewels would be found and used against the Syah, even after he’d left the Ruveni and started a family. Spreading that hope was what had gotten him killed.
I know what we have to do, Espie, Liam informed her. So, I’m going to start packing. You can join me when you know it, too.
Liam walked toward his bedroom, leaving the jewel shard on the table. Espie picked it up and examined it again, wishing Liam had never found it, wishing it had called to anyone but him.
For the second time that day, her father’s voice rang in her memory. “Wishing is a waste of time. Focus on what is, not what you want it to be.”
Espie heaved a deep sigh. Twice in her life she’d felt like her heart had been broken beyond repair. The first time, she’d been six years old, holding her infant brother as she watched the life drain from her mother’s wan face. The second time had been two years ago when her father had agreed to surrender to the Syah’s soldiers in exchange for them sparing his children and then been run through as soon as he walked out the door.
Both times, Espie had felt despair rise within her, threatening to swallow her whole. By sheer will, she’d kept it at bay, believing she had no other choice. After her mother’s death, she’d known her father couldn’t take care of Liam and the household on his own, so together the two of them had figured out how to cook and clean, change diapers and sing lullabies. It hadn’t been easy, but it had knit their hearts together in a way Espie could never put into words, which had made it all the more agonizing when he, too, had been taken from her.
As she’d watched the blood spill from her father’s body, Espie had almost given in to hopelessness. She knew she would have if not for Liam. It was for his sake that she’d dug a grave and covered her father’s beloved face forever, and for him that she’d tended the garden and hunted when she hadn’t cared if she ate at all. Espie had pressed on for Liam’s sake, with only a few tears shed in the dead of night, when she knew he wouldn’t hear.
And now Liam, the boy who seemed as much her son as her brother, wanted to risk his life for the sliver of hope that laid in her hand. Espie glared at the purple jewel shard. Hadn’t she already lost enough? Did she really have to risk the life of the only family she had left?
No, there had to be another way. Espie rolled the jewel shard between her palms, thinking. She could bring the shard to the Ruveni by herself, but that would leave Liam here alone for…how long? A month? Two? They didn’t have nearly enough food for him to survive that long, which meant he would have to hunt.
Espie shook her head. Despite how many times she’d tried to teach him, her brother was a terrible shot with his bow, and he was even worse with his spear. Leaving him here alone would mean condemning him to die of starvation. For the jewel shard to get to the Ruveni, both of them would have to take it to them. There was no other way.
Espie’s shoulders sagged. In her heart, she knew Liam was right. If there was even a chance this jewel shard could help end the Syah’s cruel reign, then it was their responsibility to see that it got to the Ruveni, no matter the consequences. With a heavy heart, she set the jewel shard back on the table and went to help Liam pack.
The sun was setting by the time Espie finally felt like they were prepared for the long journey ahead. She and Liam ate leftover stew for supper, and after agreeing to leave at sunrise the next morning, both headed to bed.
Despite her anxiety about what was to come, Espie slept fitfully that night. When the first hint of dawn lightened the sky, she woke up and prepared herself to leave. After braiding her long hair, she donned a faded blue travel dress that had once belonged to her mother and surveyed herself in the mirror. To her own eyes, she wasn’t half as beautiful as the dress’s previous owner. Her brown hair seemed dull compared to her mother’s red curls, and her brown eyes were far more serious that the lively green ones she’d loved so well. Normally, those things bothered Espie, but she was grateful for them today. Since she and Liam were basically committing treason, it would be best if they didn’t stand out, and Espie knew that once she was wrapped in her father’s cloak to conceal her figure, she would look plain in every way.
When Espie left her bedroom, she found Liam sitting at the kitchen table with his knapsack on his back.
“Ready to go?” she asked him, raising her eyebrows.
When he nodded enthusiastically, she frowned, wishing he would focus more on the danger and less on the adventurous aspect of the quest they were about to undertake.
“We need to eat breakfast before we leave,” she said, striding into the kitchen.
We can eat an hour or two down the road, Liam signed, clearly eager to be on their way.
Espie rolled her eyes. “We’re going to have to hunt to supplement our food supplies as it is,” she said. “We should eat what we have at the house while we still can.”
Looking resigned, Liam set his knapsack on the floor and nodded. Not wanting to tax her brother’s patience too much, Espie made them a quick breakfast of toast and porridge. When they’d finished, she grabbed her own pack from where she had set it next to the door. She slung it and her bow over her shoulder, then reached for her staff. More than anything, Espie wished she could carry her father’s sword or spear instead. He had taught her to use both weapons, but she knew a woman carrying them would arouse too much suspicion. Her staff would have to do.
Glancing to her side, Espie found Liam grinning up at her, his knapsack once again on his back. She smiled at him, trying to hide how much she still wished they could forget this whole thing and stay home.
“You have the shard?” she asked him. Liam patted his pocket, where the jewel shard was wrapped in cloth, and nodded. Though she’d tried to talk him out of it, Liam had insisted on carrying the shard himself, claiming that soldiers would be less likely to be suspicious of a little boy.
“Let’s go then,” Espie said, opening the door and leading the way outside. They paused long enough to make sure the door was shut and locked securely, and then together, the two siblings set off to find the Ruveni.
It was over a month later when they finally made it to the tall evergreens of Tiroe Forest. A month of meager meals, uncomfortable bedrolls, and what seemed like endless walking. Though they had so far managed to avoid any serious trouble, the journey had taken a toll, especially on Liam. For the last several days, Espie had noticed him looking weary, even a bit forlorn, but entering the shade of the tiroe trees, from which the forest got its name, seemed to bring him renewed vigor.
We made it, Espie! he signed gleefully, almost bouncing as he walked down the path leading into the forest. Espie nodded noncommittally. She couldn’t bring herself to tell him that making it to Tiroe Forest was probably only half the battle. The forest was so huge that it could still take weeks for them to locate the group of rebels.
They’d been walking for about an hour when Espie heard the clang of metal coming toward them. She glanced around, hoping to find a good place for them to hide, but saw nothing promising. Wary of meeting strangers in such an isolated place, Espie gripped her staff tightly. Seeing her apprehension, Liam stepped closer to her side as they continued up the path.
In just a few moments, four men with scraggly beards appeared from around a bend leading a horse. As they drew nearer, Espie found the source of the metal sound she’d heard: several sets of shackles draped over the horse’s back that clinked together each time the animal took a step. Her stomach clenched. Slavers.
“What do we have here, boys?” said the man on the left, coming to a stop and looking them up and down.
“Looks like money to me, Bo,” another said with a smile.
“I don’t know, Preylon,” a third said, looking skeptical. “I ain’t sure no one would pay for da likes o’ dem.”
Espie eyed the four men calculatingly. The man on the far right had a sword strapped to his hip, but the others had no visible weapons. Although that seemed strange for slavers, it meant nothing. They could easily have any number of daggers or other small weapons hidden on their person.
“We might as well bring them to market and see how much we can get,” said the man farthest to the left, grabbing a pair of open shackles and walking toward Espie. “Put your hands out,” he told her, holding out the shackles. He seemed to expect her to obey with no resistance at all. That was his first mistake. Had Espie’s father been his teacher he would have learned a very important lesson: never assume someone is harmless.
Without warning, Espie swung her staff in a wide arc and hit the man solidly in the temple. Unprepared, his head snapped violently to the side, and he fell to the ground beside her, unconscious. One down. Three to go.
“Grab the shackles, Liam,” Espie ordered in a whisper, never taking her eyes off the other three slavers. As he obeyed, one of the men whistled.
“This one has some fire in her,” he said. “Maybe she’ll bring in a good price after all.” He nodded at his buddy, and the two strode forward. Strangely, the man with the sword hung back, apparently content to watch his companions deal with her. Espie mentally shrugged. If they wanted to make it easier for her to take them out, that was fine with her.
As the two men closed in on her, Espie lunged to her left and lashed out with her staff, catching the closest man hard in the side of his knee. The joint snapped inward with a pop, and the man howled with pain. Taking advantage of his distraction, Espie used her staff to strike his temple, and he crumpled just as the first man had. Two down. Two to go.
Looking to her right, Espie saw the third man attempting to grab Liam, who was doing his best to hold him off, employing the shackles as a weapon. Espie almost smiled when she saw the bruise rapidly forming on the man’s face. She’d known her brother would make good use of those shackles. It was why she’d told him to grab them.
As Espie stepped toward the pair, the slaver caught the shackles and wrested them from Liam’s hands. He held them up triumphantly, probably planning to swing them down at Liam, but he never got the chance. Coming at him from the side, Espie used her staff to hit his lower back in what her father had always called a kidney strike. The man turned toward her, yelling with rage, and swung the shackles toward her head. Espie dodged and struck the man in the stomach with the butt of her staff, catching him in the soft spot just below the rib cage. He gasped and bent over, the wind knocked out of him. Not wasting any time, Espie used her staff to strike him in the temple, and he joined his friends on the ground. Three down. One to go.
Espie turned, expecting the man with the sword to be on her at any moment, and instead found him standing where he’d been before, studying her calmly. He was middle-aged with dark eyes and black hair tied back in a ponytail.
“Let us go,” she told him, unsure if it was an order or a request.
The man shook his head, his face unreadable. “I can’t do that,” he said. “At least not yet.”
Espie met the man’s gaze squarely, trying to take his measure. He was awfully sure of his ability to keep them there, despite just seeing his three companions so easily defeated. Was he that confident in his skills as a swordsman, or did he have something else up his sleeve?
As if in answer to her unspoken query, Liam pulled on her arm and pointed, his eyes wide. Espie followed his gaze and felt her blood run cold. In the forest surrounding them were at least ten men and women with arrows trained on them. Her heart sank, realizing she and Liam were completely at their mercy.
“What do you want?” she asked the swordsman.
He met her gaze squarely. “To know who you are and what threat you pose to us.”
Espie stared at the man, thinking hard. Slavers weren’t known for setting up cunning ambushes. Nor would they be remotely interested in finding out who they were. That begged the question, then, if he wasn’t a slaver, who was he? Given that they were in Tiroe Forest, Espie suspected she knew, so she decided to tell him the truth. Some of it, anyway.
“We live half a day’s walk from Livontown,” she said. “We traveled here to search for the Ruveni because we found something they need to see.”
The man raised his eyebrows. “And why did you believe you would find the Ruveni here?” he asked. “Surely, the location of such a secretive group isn’t common knowledge.”
Espie considered her next words carefully. If these people were members of the Ruveni, as she supsected, this was the most important questions she would have to answer. She had to convince these hardened rebels that she wasn’t a spy or assassin sent by the Syah and that she meant them no harm.
“Our father told us how to find them,” Espie said slowly. “His name was Sion Lebar, and he was once one of their members.”
When the swordsmen’s eyes widened briefly in recognition, Espie knew her suspicions had been correct. Whether that meant she and Liam were any safer, she wasn’t sure. While she knew the Ruveni wouldn’t want to harm innocent civilians, she also knew they hadn’t survived this long by taking strangers at their word.
“I see,” the swordsman replied, eyeing her dubiously. “And what is it you’ve found that you think would interest the Ruveni?”
Espie frowned. She couldn’t just tell a random member of the rebel group that they’d found a shard from a jewel of power. Knowledge like that was dangerous in the wrong hands, and she needed to tell someone who would be wise enough to handle it.
“That’s something I can only tell your leader,” she said, trying to sound confident.
The man smiled with no warmth. “Then, you’re in luck,” he told her. “I am Dakin Bade, leader of the Ruveni.”
Espie felt her eyes widen. Was this really Dakin, the leader her father had spoken of so highly? The man could be lying, but somehow, she doubted it. And even if he was, it didn’t matter. By claiming to be Dakin, he had ruled out any possibility of them being taken to speak to someone else. Espie looked down at Liam and gave him a tiny nod. They’d come here to bring the jewel shard to the Ruveni, and this was their only chance to do it.
Liam pulled the cloth that concealed the shard out of his pocket. He unwrapped it and placed the purple sliver in his palm, holding it up for the man to see. Even with the sun’s light streaming through the trees, the shard’s purple glow was visible.
“We believe we found a shard from a jewel of power,” Espie said. Dakin’s eyes widened in shock. Without asking permission, he walked over and took the shard from Liam’s hand.
“How did you find this?” he demanded. Looking scared, Liam signed an answer.
“He said it called to him from a boar’s den,” Espie interpreted.
Dakin looked at her. “Is he deaf?” he asked.
“No,” she replied. “But he hasn’t spoken…in a while.” She hoped he wouldn’t ask for more details.
“I see,” he said, handing the shard back to Liam, probably as a show of good faith. “This certainly seems authentic, but we do have to be sure. We’ll need to do tests on it and try to verify your story. In the meantime, you’ll have to be kept under guard.” Espie knew he meant only her, not Liam. “As a precaution,” he added, moving his gaze to take in the three men she’d knocked out, still sprawled around them, to emphasize his point. “Guards!” he yelled.
Two men walked out from somewhere among the trees holding shackles. Reluctantly, but knowing she had no choice, Espie set her staff on the ground and prepared to hold out her hands.
No…No! Liam signed. He grabbed hold of her dress.
“She won’t be hurt unless she attempts to attack or escape,” Dakin told him, his tone suggesting he wasn’t used to people questioning his orders. Liam looked at Espie and signed something else.
“He wants to go with me,” Espie interpreted, knowing what Dakin’s answer would be. While not a cruel man, Espie could tell Dakin was both hard and shrewd. Those were good qualities for a rebel leader to possess, but they allowed for only one possible answer.
“No,” he replied evenly. “I know you won’t try to escape without the boy. Keeping him with me will make your guards’ job a lot easier.”
Espie nodded, resigned. “It’s okay, Liam,” she whispered. “We’ll be together again soon.” Hoping she’d told him the truth, she held out her hands and heard a metallic clink before feeling the heavy weight of the shackles on her arms.
No! No! No! Liam signed, clinging to her dress.
“It’s okay, Liam,” Espie repeated soothingly. “I’m okay.”
“You’re going to come with me,” Dakin told Liam. He walked over and grabbed the boy around the waist, pulling him away from Espie and toward the horse still standing in the path. Liam struggled against his hold, trying to get back to her. Espie clenched her teeth to hold back her tears as Dakin started to lift her brother onto the horse, and her guards nudged her, trying to get her to walk. With a deep sigh, Espie turned her back on Liam, following the guards’ directions, trying to convince herself it was for the best.
“ESPARIA!” Liam shouted her name with a voice raspy from disuse, and a wave of power surged through the air, throwing back her guards, vaporizing her shackles, but somehow leaving her untouched. Espie turned around to see her brother standing beside the horse with Dakin on the ground behind him. Liam was staring down at the shard in his hand that now shone with a purple light much brighter than it ever had before.
Espie opened her arms, and Liam ran into them. “Don’t let them take me away, Espie,” he begged. “Please, don’t let them take me away.”
Hearing her brother’s voice, Espie felt tears fill her eyes again, this time due to joy. She blinked them away impatiently and looked over at Dakin. She found him staring in their direction, his eyes fixed on the purple light still emanating from the shard in Liam’s clenched fist. After a moment, he dragged his eyes away and looked at Espie. Meeting his intense gaze, she knew that he too understood what this meant. He knew which jewel the shard Liam held had come from, and he knew what it could mean for the Ruveni. For all of Izoria.
“I’ve decided to believe you,” he said, rising to his feet. From his expression, Espie knew he’d concluded that the Syah would never send a shard from this jewel to him, even as a trick. “Give me the shard, and the two of you are free to go.”
Liam raised his eyebrows at Espie in a silent question. When she nodded, he held the shard out to Dakin. The leader of the Ruveni took it with a look of wonder on his face.
Liam walked over and took her hand. “Let’s go home, Espie.”
She looked down at her brother, hardly daring to believe he was speaking again, then back at Dakin. For the first time in two years, she felt hope begin to rise in her heart, both for her family and for Izoria.
“Yes, Liam,” she said. “Let’s go home.”
©May 2019, Miriam Thor
Miriam Thor‘s publication credits include a young adult fantasy novella entitled Wish Granted and short stories in Edify Fiction, Youth Imagination, and one soon to appear in Workers Write! More Tales from the Classroom. This is her first appearance in Swords & Sorcery.