for your soul that night, and we said goodbye. In my mind I buried you, Father.” That silence returned. It lingered. “You should have come back to us.”
Eadric shot out of his chair. It tipped backwards, and crashed onto the floor. The rat scampered out of the room, into another, and most certainly into hiding. “How could I return? I made a vow; I pledged that I would save your mother. I had bent a knee to you, held you by the arms and promised I would not return without your mother by my side, Mykal.
“And I failed. I followed a lead for a time, confident I was close behind the men who stole her. It never changed, I always felt close. I never found anyone. No signs of anyone. I searched the bordering kingdoms, the mountains, the valleys. I crossed the river and went beyond.” Eadric pressed his hands together in front of his face, by his lips, and sighed. “I was lost. I’d not given up, but I didn’t know where else to look. I researched place I’d been a hundred times. I got into fights when they mocked me in taverns, calling me crazy, and touched in the head. The name-calling never bothered me, but I beat them, I hurt so many people because I was angry at myself, upset because I couldn’t find your mother.
“How could I come home, Mykal? After so many years and nothing to show for it, how could I come home?”
“I would have known you had done your best,” Mykal said. “And I would have been proud of you for trying.”
Mykal wasn’t sure what he’d expected. Uncle Quill thought this man would be an asset on their current quest? How was Eadric, a prisoner to the bottle, going to help them?
“I want to know about you.” The words came out in a whisper. Mykal wasn’t sure if he heard them, or imagined them. “I want to hear about how you have been.”
“Will it make a difference, Father?” Mykal said.
“A difference?”
Mykal shook his head, and turned his back on his father. His eyes had adjusted to the dimness. He didn’t see any furniture in the room now on his left, just a blanket on the floor, more empty brown bottles, and second pail similar to the one out by the rocking chair. He could smell the smoke butts from where he was, and cringed.
At the screen door, Mykal stopped. “She is alive, you know. I am going to see her next. Blodwyn coordinated her escape. She was never kidnapped. Did you even talk with Wyn before you took off and left us?”
There was no response.
“We’re headed out in the morning. I don’t know how I feel about you joining us, if I’m honest. I think I’ll leave that up to you.” Mykal threw back to him, and walked out onto the porch. The fresh air filled his lungs. He hadn’t realized how stagnant it had been inside the house until he was back outside. It was… freeing.
He walked up to the lake, bent down and picked up a round flat stone. He skimmed it across the surface; five good hops and then it plopped down into the water. When he turned around he half expected to see his father on the porch.
The porch was empty. The house looked abandoned. Mykal climbed up onto the horse’s saddle and trotted away from Lantern Lake and back into the forest.
***
Galatia hung on a wall outside of her cell. Her wrists were shackled to the rock wall. Her legs hung freely. The way she dangled made her chest hurt. Her shoulder blades ached. It felt as if her lungs were being pinched shut. Every breath she drew was painful.
Her hands throbbed. The Mountain King had used heated forceps and clamped them onto her fingernail. When he ripped the nail away she thought she might pass out. She hoped she would. It wasn’t until he’d forcibly removed the third fingernail that her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and thankfully unconsciousness took her.
When she came to, she realized the dungeon was not just dark, it was absent of all light. Someone had put out the fire in the bowls on the stone staircase. Dried blood from her fingers streaked her forearms.
Eadric shot out of his chair. It tipped backwards, and crashed onto the floor. The rat scampered out of the room, into another, and most certainly into hiding. “How could I return? I made a vow; I pledged that I would save your mother. I had bent a knee to you, held you by the arms and promised I would not return without your mother by my side, Mykal.
“And I failed. I followed a lead for a time, confident I was close behind the men who stole her. It never changed, I always felt close. I never found anyone. No signs of anyone. I searched the bordering kingdoms, the mountains, the valleys. I crossed the river and went beyond.” Eadric pressed his hands together in front of his face, by his lips, and sighed. “I was lost. I’d not given up, but I didn’t know where else to look. I researched place I’d been a hundred times. I got into fights when they mocked me in taverns, calling me crazy, and touched in the head. The name-calling never bothered me, but I beat them, I hurt so many people because I was angry at myself, upset because I couldn’t find your mother.
“How could I come home, Mykal? After so many years and nothing to show for it, how could I come home?”
“I would have known you had done your best,” Mykal said. “And I would have been proud of you for trying.”
Mykal wasn’t sure what he’d expected. Uncle Quill thought this man would be an asset on their current quest? How was Eadric, a prisoner to the bottle, going to help them?
“I want to know about you.” The words came out in a whisper. Mykal wasn’t sure if he heard them, or imagined them. “I want to hear about how you have been.”
“Will it make a difference, Father?” Mykal said.
“A difference?”
Mykal shook his head, and turned his back on his father. His eyes had adjusted to the dimness. He didn’t see any furniture in the room now on his left, just a blanket on the floor, more empty brown bottles, and second pail similar to the one out by the rocking chair. He could smell the smoke butts from where he was, and cringed.
At the screen door, Mykal stopped. “She is alive, you know. I am going to see her next. Blodwyn coordinated her escape. She was never kidnapped. Did you even talk with Wyn before you took off and left us?”
There was no response.
“We’re headed out in the morning. I don’t know how I feel about you joining us, if I’m honest. I think I’ll leave that up to you.” Mykal threw back to him, and walked out onto the porch. The fresh air filled his lungs. He hadn’t realized how stagnant it had been inside the house until he was back outside. It was… freeing.
He walked up to the lake, bent down and picked up a round flat stone. He skimmed it across the surface; five good hops and then it plopped down into the water. When he turned around he half expected to see his father on the porch.
The porch was empty. The house looked abandoned. Mykal climbed up onto the horse’s saddle and trotted away from Lantern Lake and back into the forest.
***
Galatia hung on a wall outside of her cell. Her wrists were shackled to the rock wall. Her legs hung freely. The way she dangled made her chest hurt. Her shoulder blades ached. It felt as if her lungs were being pinched shut. Every breath she drew was painful.
Her hands throbbed. The Mountain King had used heated forceps and clamped them onto her fingernail. When he ripped the nail away she thought she might pass out. She hoped she would. It wasn’t until he’d forcibly removed the third fingernail that her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and thankfully unconsciousness took her.
When she came to, she realized the dungeon was not just dark, it was absent of all light. Someone had put out the fire in the bowls on the stone staircase. Dried blood from her fingers streaked her forearms.
Similar Books
