The Fog of Forgetting (21 page)

Frankie took a step back, though it was not really a surprise.

Dankar's ears twitched. “I can see that my reputation precedes me. But surely someone as bright as you must know that a person may be considered one way by his enemies and quite another by his friends.” He extended his hand. “And I am your friend, Frances, even if you are not mine. I ask you only one thing: Do not judge me by what others have told you. I ask you to stay here in Exor and then judge for yourself—”

“Am I a prisoner?” Frankie interrupted.

A flash of impatience crossed Dankar's gleaming brow, but he regained his composure quickly.

“Prisoner? No, no. Think of yourself as my guest—my most valued guest. It is my hope that once you become accustomed to our ways, you will be happy to accept Exor as your home … as …” He paused, searching, then smiled, “as, ah,
Louis
has done.”

Frankie threw another searching look at Louis, who remained impassively at his post. She had the sensation that a small battle was being waged here, one that she was losing, and yet it did not feel terrible to lose. It felt easy, like changing into a new set of clothes.

Dankar rose to his feet, smiling a peculiar, satisfied half-smile, as if some question had been answered. He dislodged one of the gold bangles from his bicep and slipped it on Frankie's small wrist. It was very loose, but as he slipped it up her arm, the band tightened until it stuck. Frankie's fear and doubt evaporated completely. Instead, she was filled with a warm, relaxing—almost sleepy—delight, like a cat who discovers a patch of sun to rest in.

“A token of my enduring friendship, Frances. Now—won't you join me for breakfast?” Despite the encouraging sensation of the bracelet, Frankie still hesitated.

“What about my sister—and the others?” she asked, feeling slightly dizzy.

Dankar sighed and raised his hands with the palms up, radiant.

“All of this fighting is just a misunderstanding. You know that, don't you? Rothermel and I are
family
. Do you not fight with your sister on occasion? Such is the way in families. There are disagreements.”

“You're related to Rothermel?”

Dankar nodded. Beams of hot light bounced off his crown.

“Then why do you fight with the Melorians? Why did you send all those warriors to attack them?”

Dankar patted her shoulder. “Do not trouble yourself with ancient history, dearest, or misunderstandings between adults.”

Frankie didn't know what to say. Now that she was here with Dankar, he didn't seem nearly as frightening as she'd imagined he would be. He seemed to care about her—and Louis.

Dankar patted her again, on the head, and led her past where Louis stood in the shade of an archway. He stopped.

“Join us.”

Louis bowed his head. “Uncle, I am always eager to do your bidding, but—the initiation—I have been wait—” He was cut off.

“You have performed well. Frances is here, unharmed. You will be rewarded with the honor you so desire. Your initiation shall begin tonight. Should you succeed, we will discuss your wish to enter warrior training.”

Frankie stopped in her tracks. She tore her hand away from Dankar's and threw herself at Louis.

“Don't do it! Please don't do it!” she begged.

Strong hands pinched her shoulders and pulled her away.

“Frances, you are new to Exor, but soon enough you will come to see the honor of serving in my house. Your companion has achieved much; should he not be rewarded?”

Frankie searched Louis's face for some sign of understanding. His features were regular and pleasing—and now familiar.

“This is something I
want
, Frankie,” he said. “I have wanted it for a long time.”

“Why? Why can't you just stay the way you are?”

Louis looked past her. “It's hard to explain; let's just say it's a necessary step.”

“But Louis … won't it hurt?” She trembled just thinking about what a person would have to do to look like that.

Dankar firmly inserted Frankie's hand back into his and resumed his gait. “Do you think, dear one, that I would allow someone so close to me—someone I have raised since boyhood—to risk his life for no reason? Your companion has long sought this honor. If he completes the warrior training, Louis will be the first of his kind to do so. It will be a great accomplishment! A sign of wondrous things to come.” He patted Frankie's arm, leaving a rosy glow where he touched her skin.

She shook her head, not understanding.

Dankar looked quizzically at Louis and then back at Frankie.

“Has he not told you?”

“Told me what?”

Dankar chuckled as if just let in on a highly entertaining joke.

“Louis is one of
you
—an outlier—cast on the shores of Exor some years ago. We three have this ill fortune in common—and one other thing.” Dankar's lips parted hungrily, baring his teeth.

“We all want to go back.”

I
n Metria, time unfolded like a long, luxurious dream. Nothing much was expected of Chase, Evelyn, Knox, and Teddy, except that they bathe regularly, eat their meals, and not ask too many questions. The older children had not seen Rysta again since the first night, though Teddy was often called to her side.

“Maybe he can find out where our weapons are,” griped Knox. He, Chase, and Evelyn sat at the low table in the gathering room, where they were eating breakfast.

“Have you noticed something different about Teddy since he's been spending so much time with Rysta?” asked Chase, slathering a delicious-smelling sweet bun with butter.

Knox shrugged. “Not really.” He peeled a banana and ate half in one bite.

“His lisp is better—it's almost gone. Don't you think that's weird?”

Knox took another bite and chewed and swallowed before answering.

“You mean weirder than landing on a mysterious island in the fog and not being able to leave? Or being hunted by some half-human fire god and his army of demons? Or wait—” He grinned. “How about weirder than hanging out with a guy who was on a ship that sank in a war over two hundred years ago? Like, weirder than that?”

“You know what I mean,” said Chase.

“He's probably just outgrowing it.”

Chase turned to Evelyn. “What do you think?”

“I think it's both,” said Evelyn. “Remember what Seaborne told us? The daylights are stronger on Ayda. Maybe that means that people grow faster and get stronger and other stuff goes away, like lisps and, maybe, other things.” She gave him a sideways glance. “Like asthma.”

“But if you are perfect like me,” Knox cut in, “you just get even more perfect.”

Chase rolled his eyes. Evelyn chucked a pillow at him. The morning wore on, as it had every day since they'd arrived in Metria.

Knox began to take long excursions into the bay to pass the time. Chase befriended Hesam, the captain of the ship they had met on their first day in Metria. She showed him several intricate, hand-drawn maps of Ayda and the Hestredes, and taught him basic navigation. Evelyn discovered that the anonymity of her Metrian clothes made it easy for her to mingle undetected with Rysta's people and listen in on their conversations. She pieced together much of what she, Chase, Knox, and Teddy had already guessed: They would soon be taken to the city of Metria and kept there for their safety. Once grown, they would be free to settle wherever their daylights dictated. No one could say exactly when that would be; the best Evelyn could make out was that a child in Metria was considered grown when he or she heard the call of their own daylights.

Evelyn wondered if the daylights actually had a sound, or if the call was more like a thought that slowly grew from an idea to a certainty. Whatever it was, she was sure it hadn't happened to her yet. And she was also sure that she had no intention of going anywhere until she had some news of Frankie. Several more days passed pleasantly enough, matched by an equal and growing sense of restlessness that was contagious. Soon this feeling—and their missing weapons—was the only thing Evelyn, Knox, and Chase could talk about.

“I can't stay here another day without doing
something
to find Frankie!” said Evelyn, thoroughly exasperated.

She, Chase, and Knox were perched on top of the cavern's ledge, overlooking the bay that led out to the river. As usual, Teddy was off with Rysta.

“It's comfortable and nice and all, but … at this rate we're
never
going to find her.”

“I think that's the point,” mumbled Chase. He lay facedown on the sand-colored stone, the backs of his calves pink from the sun.

“What d'you mean?” demanded Evelyn.

“It's pretty clear we've been sent here to be kept out of the way. Rysta's going to take us to the city where she can keep an eye on us and Dankar can't possibly reach us.”

Evelyn opened and shut her mouth, trying to frame what she wanted to say. She made a sour face. “Does she think I'm just going to forget Frankie? Does she think I'm stupid?” She looked pointedly at Knox for backup. He was wiggling a small pink stone out of the ledge with the toe of his bare foot.

Chase rolled over lazily and shielded his eyes so he could look up at Evelyn.

“She thinks we're kids—which we are—and that you'll get used to it eventually. You heard what she said. She hasn't seen her brother or sister in—who knows around here? Hundreds, thousands of years?”

“Well, then, she doesn't know me very well. I'm not going to get used to it or sit around waiting for some stone to come back before I see my sister again. We need to
do
something.”

Knox looked up, his interest piqued. “What kind of something?”

“Well, are we going to go with Rysta like good little boys and girls, or are we going to help Frankie?”

Chase pretended to yawn. He'd been afraid of this since Hesam had shown him a map of Ayda. He began to sketch the island into the dust of the ledge; its outline shaped like an elongated heart. Metria was at the far south. Exor lay in the opposite direction, north and west, and between the two lay a vast lake and an unknown number of towering mountains, not to mention Exorian warriors. It wasn't that he didn't
want
to help Frankie; he did. But how? She was long gone by now, miles and miles away—so he said nothing.

Evelyn slapped her arms to her sides in frustration and glared at them. “
Well?
”

Knox picked up the loosened pebble and rolled it between his fingertips. “I'd help if I knew what to do. I mean, we don't know where she is, where our weapons are—it just seems kind of hopeless. Besides, Rothermel was pretty clear about doing what Rysta says.”

“Rothermel was pretty clear,” Evelyn taunted. “That's great. That's just great. Now that you believe all this stuff, you think he's some kind of god or something. How do you know they're not all in on it! They don't trust us, Knox, not even your precious Rothermel. We're prisoners here as much as Frankie is … wherever she is!
If
she even is,” shouted Evelyn. She clenched her fists and jammed them under her armpits. “This is my sister we're talking about! My
sister
. The only family I have left! Remember?”

“Okay, okay, calm down,” said Chase. “You're right.” He stood up and brushed the sand off his chest. “Let's swim and then find Teddy. Maybe he can talk Rysta into seeing us again.”

Teddy's help wasn't necessary. When Evelyn and the boys returned to their rooms, there was a message from Rysta summoning them to join her that evening at her enclosure by the pool. This time, they rowed themselves, no longer needing guides to ferry them about. She was just as they had first seen her: lovely and pale, clad in purple and silver, her hair glittering with jewels. The necklace with the stone lay shining openly on her breast. She greeted them warmly and bid them to join her by the pool, which lay still and calm, reflecting only the flickering candlelight.

“I regret our last parting,” she said simply, and bid Evelyn to sit near her.

Teddy sat on her other side, as if it were the most natural place for him to be. Evelyn's eyes fell on the necklace. Rysta noticed and gathered the stone pendant in her fingers, caressing it as she spoke.

“I am not your enemy, children. You should know this, for you have already suffered at the hands of the real enemy.”

“Rysta,” Evelyn began, wasting no time, “I need to find my sister. Will you help?”

Rysta sighed. “If it were in my power to return your sister to you, I would do so. Alas, I can only see that you remain safe within my own lands. It is not for me to command my people to wage war against Dankar when so many could perish.”

Evelyn looked crestfallen.

“Do not underestimate Dankar, child. He possesses craft and patience and something nearly as powerful as a stone of power: hatred. Dankar cares little for the lives of his people; he expends them carelessly, as a tree drops its leaves.”

“All the more reason to get my sister away from him!” cried Evelyn.

“Do not think me hard. I know your suffering. Remember, Dankar killed my brother.”

Evelyn had forgotten. She buried her head deep in her hands.

“There's something I don't understand,” said Chase, eyeing Rysta nervously. “I don't mean any disrespect, but if you—or, umm, your kind—are half-human, then can't Dankar be killed? Why don't you and Rothermel and Ratha get together and take the stone of Exor back? It would be three against one, right?”

Rysta leaned back and contemplated him for a moment, with an odd, soft look, as if he reminded her of someone.

“As one who has endured the Great Battle and the ages hence, I agree with my brother's counsel: To venture open warfare without knowledge of the Fifth Stone is to court a doom that could envelop more than just Ayda.”

“So you would rather just—
hide?
” interrupted Knox, not able to contain his disbelief.

Rysta's mouth tightened. “War would seem the obvious thing to one whose sight comes from beyond the fog, but tell me, Knox—if my siblings and I are the only beings able to restrain Dankar, what would happen to the world should one—or all—of us lose? How many of our people would suffer the fate of the Exorians should Dankar possess another stone? And how many of yours, should Dankar use our stones to penetrate the fog? It is an easy thing to demand war when one does not have to sacrifice oneself or one's loved ones to win it.” She shook her head. “No. The risk is too great. Until the return of the Fifth Stone, my siblings and I will fight Dankar the way we have always done—by restricting him to his own lands and fighting him on ours should he dare trespass. It is Ayda's burden, and we shall bear it.”

“You fought for Seaborne,” said Evelyn. “Why won't you do the same for my sister?”

“It was chance that favored Seaborne, and the tide that brought him to my lands, where I could protect him. It is not for me to direct the destiny of the souls who have washed ashore elsewhere. My powers are not so great.”

Silence descended with the finality of her words.

Chase stirred, struck by what she had just said. “You said
souls
, plural. How many have there been, besides us?”

“I am certain only of yourselves and Seaborne; however, there was a time, before the fog, when many outliers visited our shores.”

“You mean they could come and go?”

“It was long ago, before the Great Battle, when your kind traveled by sea. If by chance a ship landed on Ayda's shores, all aboard were given a choice. They were welcome to stay or free to go, but should they choose to leave, they would never be able to return. No instrument, map, or star would guide them. It was my father's doing.”

“Why? I don't get it,” said Knox.

“I do,” said Chase. “Rysta's father knew what would happen if the Others found out about Ayda—and the Fifth Stone. The place would be wrecked.” He looked into the shadows beyond the candlelight, trying to map out what must have happened next, because, obviously, somebody—namely Dankar—
had
found out.

“Many in Ayda are kin to those who remained,” Rysta explained. “But those who returned to their homes went back to tell tales of a wondrous land, for there was no fog of forgetting then to erase their memories. They described animals that could understand their thoughts, plentiful food and drink, and a land where people did not wither or sicken. Ayda grew in their imaginations and, as so often happens with memory, they bestowed upon it ever-fairer descriptions. Ayda drifted into legend and story, and many sought her without success. Soon enough, there were few in your lands who paid attention to the ravings of sailors. Talk of this paradise was thought to be a kind of madness, a delusion brought on by too many nights at sea.” Rysta's voice lowered.

“But not all stopped listening. There was one in particular who heard these tales often enough through the ages for them to take hold of his thoughts until they could not be unthought. His desire to find and possess the powers that lay in Ayda grew to be a torment to him.”

“Dankar,” Knox said, with a grimace.

Rysta nodded again. “Yes, Dankar. Once he believed the tales to be true, he began to seek Ayda himself, in earnest, bending whatever skills of his Watcher father that he still possessed. He was clever and patient and—in time—we fell into his trap. His forces beset Ayda armed with brutal instruments unknown to us at that time: swords, maces, lances, and arrows. Many ancients—ancestors to Urza and Tinator, as well as others—fragmented in this first attack, others were cruelly tortured and enslaved, but Dankar could not ferret us all out of our hiding places.” She leaned forward, agitated by the memory.

“And we held one important secret that Dankar knew not—at least in the beginning. We had the Fifth Stone; its safety was my father's charge, and foremost in his mind. In Ayda's darkest time, he and my mother traveled high into the mountains of Varuna to hide it.” She sighed. “But the fate of the Fifth Stone remains unknown to this day, as does the fate of my father. My mother returned alone from the mountains bearing not the one, but four lesser stones: Exor, Varuna, Melor, and Metria, to which she pledged her children. A great carpet of fog grew up around our shores and Ayda disappeared entirely from the world. Forgotten.