The Children of Calm by J Michael Smith Page B

I’ve always felt that he somehow doesn’t belong here, like he’s bigger than this village. Or at least that he’ll never be satisfied staying here.” She paused and then looked at Rylek. “What about Selenor?”
    His face became hard as he felt a gnawing pit in his stomach. This was the question that haunted him during the day, and kept him up at night. What if Selenor did not return to Calm after finishing her arts degree? She was more likely to go to Calinaer, renowned for its thriving arts community. The thought of her being forever removed from him was too much. “I don’t know,” he weakly answered.
    “Are you going to tell her?”
    He shook his head. “It wouldn’t be fair to her. Not now. I guess I’ll just have to wait and see what happens.”
    Lana put down her quilt and embraced her brother with tears in her eyes. They did not say another word.
     
    ***
     
    Their mother returned home from Penephoni’s some time later. Clarina walked up to the couch and saw Lana sleeping with her head on Rylek’s left shoulder while he was staring glass-eyed into the fire. She squatted down next to him and ruffled his hair.
    “Hey sweetheart,” she said softly. “Are you alright?”
    He faintly smiled. “I’m okay.”
    She studied his face for a few moments and then kissed his forehead. “Am I right to assume your father is not yet home?”
    “Yeah.”
    She stood up. “I wonder what he and Caenar are doing,” she said, walking into the kitchen. “I’m going to make myself some peppernut tea. Would you like some?”
    “No thanks.”
    Rylek half-listened to his mother as she was telling him about the house project she was helping Penephoni with, but his mind was elsewhere. The brooding had set in, and it was often difficult to snap him out of it. Some time later he realized all of the lights were out and it was quiet in the house. Lana was now sleeping with her head in his lap. The fire was dying down. He covered his sister with her half-finished quilt, and softly ran his fingers through her red silken hair. Then on a whim, he gently slid himself out from under her, grabbed his coat, and walked outside.
    His breath hung in the frosty air, adding to the fog that had rolled in from the lake; it was like a slap in the face for his mind. Minors were not allowed out this late, but he and Tresten had snuck around countless times throughout the last few years and had been caught only once, prompting a light scolding. Now he slunk silently in the shadows behind houses, avoiding the revealing streetlamps as he went. No one was out, and whoever was patrolling the village that night was somewhere other than where Rylek walked.
    After a few minutes he found himself being drawn to the lake itself, and was soon treading under the cover of trees. The section he walked through consisted mostly of the evergreen variety, so there were not many leaves on the ground. The fog dampened all sounds, making everything seem still and far away.
    But ahead of him a soft yellow light began to glow, and he thought he could hear voices; they were coming from deeper in the forest. Curiosity gripped him, and with even more care he walked silently towards the light. Eventually he saw two shadowed figures standing on either side of a small oil lamp placed on the ground.
    “I’m telling you, he’s growing anxious,” one of the figures said softly. Rylek did not recognize the voice. “His suspicions have already been aroused by that fool, and I’m not sure how much longer I can put him off.”
    “I feel it’s too early,” the other figure said; it was Celek. “We need to let the events play out as they’ve been set up; this has been fifteen years in the making, and one false move means everything could crumble down. I need more time.”
    “Time isn’t something we’re being granted,” the first figure said. “I’m running out of excuses, and he’s not exactly someone I can say ‘no’ to.”
    Rylek’s heart was now pounding