Wounded by the Aijalon

Granny led me to the top of the flight of stairs, out of earshot of the brothers. When she was satisfied, she turned back to me, hunched over her walking stick, her wizened face close to mine.

I said “the Expanse has settled enough? That’s great!”

“Hmph, things are more complicated then that. But that can wait.” She pointed down the stairs with stick. “That is the last man you should become entangled with, girl,” she said, not a trace of her usual humor in her voice.

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb with me! I may be old, but I have eyes, and I was a girl too, once. I know what a girl in love looks like.”

I blushed fiercely. “That’s not it all, Granny! Shemman is just a friend.”

“It does not matter. He is Aijalon! Their kind have hunted us since even before the days of the Golden Monarchs.”

“Aijalon is a nationality, not a class,” I muttered.

Granny took a deep breath. “Well, never mind. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Expanse has settled. Soon, I can open the portal back to reality.”

I blinked. “Granny, that’s great news! We can finally get out of here.”

“Oh, and return to the Empire, hmm?” Her normal look of humor was back in her eyes.

“Oh, right…”

“Hoho, I shouldn’t tease you. You are right; this is a good thing. Your father can visit the real world to get supplies. I’ve already spoken to him about it. However…”

“However?”

She smiled. “I’ll need an assistant who specializes in Space magic.”

“What? Why?”

“Who can say? Perhaps this Pocket was damaged at some point, or perhaps the mages who built it designed so on purpose. But regardless, I shall need another mage on the outside to prevent the portal from collapsing and being made inoperable again.”

“You should be the one to go outside,” I said immediately. “You’re the stronger mage.”

Granny bonked me with her stick. It hurt. “Don’t be silly. The far harder spell will be the one from inside. And besides, you aren’t going to make these old bones scamper about in the middle of the forest in the real world, eh?”

I smiled. “Of course not.”

“That’s a good girl. Come, I’ll teach you the spell. This is more complicated than anything you’ve done before. But I’m confident the future leader of our community can handle it.” She had a genuine smile on her face. “Yes,” she said softly, “everything will work out now.”

Granny announced the good news to the rest of the community at dinner that evening: that with my help, she could soon reopen the portal. Immediately, all the mages burst into raucous cheers and celebration. The mood was the polar opposite of the gloom that had suffused the Pocket recently. In celebration, Granny made a much larger serving than usual—“we’ll have plenty to eat soon enough!”—and Old Man Hendriss produced a couple bottles of wine from who-knows-where. “Ain’t enough to get drunk, but it’ll do,” he said merrily as he passed around the bottles. My father was quick to snatch it away before Bekah or I could try for it.

For the first time in recent memory, the food hall was filled with chatter. It was fun, but I felt guilty about enjoying it. I wished Shemman was there. I couldn’t get the thought of Shemman sitting hungry and alone but for his brother while the rest of us partied it up in here. Not even the sight of Liah, who had somehow gotten some wine, falling face-first onto the table and snoring loudly could cheer me up fully.

Presently my father stood up and tapped his fork on his glass to draw attention. The room reluctantly silenced and all eyes turned to him. “Everyone, there is one more thing I’d like to discuss with you all regarding the reopening of the portal,” he said. “I am sorry to disturb such a fine evening, but it really is something I think concerns us all.”

Old Man Hendriss called “oh, just get on with it!”

My father inclined his head in acknowledgment, then said “it’s regarding our prisoners.” My stomach instantly turned to ice. My father paused for a moment, then continued. “I propose that when the portal is open, we send them back to the real world.”

A murmur of conversation filled the room. Andre Elihu spoke up. “Well, I don’t have any objections per se. But if we don’t want to kill them, isn’t it too dangerous to let the Aijalon back into the world?”

My father replied “despite their Aijalon training, those two boys are still children. They will not pose a danger to us if we are in here and they are out there. Besides, if we keep them, we have to feed them. That’s already been a drain on our supplies.” He looked around the room. “Any objections?”

A general murmur of assent filled the room, but I felt like my father was staring straight at me. I was petrified. Of course, Shemman and Jepha weren’t any danger to us, inside or out. But would that mean I’d never talk to him again? See his small smile at my stupid jokes, or hear his laugh? The thought of never seeing Shemman again put a cold knot in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t want him to leave!

No, no, that was selfish. Shemman was a prisoner, surrounded by people who hated him. Of course he would want to leave. It would be terribly selfish to impose my feelings on him like that.

The moment passed. Satisfied there were no objections, my father sat down again, and the festivities continued. A moment later, Bekah leaned in close. “You can do this, Rakel,” she whispered under the hubbub. “Everyone is counting on you.” With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I realized she was probably right. I stayed for a little bit longer, mulling over my sister’s words, but before long I gathered up some food onto a plate and snuck out.

I delivered the food and the news to Shemman and Japha. The younger brother started jumping around. “Get to escape the cage! Escape, wahoo!”

Shemman was more reserved, as usual. “Your father is an unusually kind man,” he said through a bite of chicken.

“Uh, I don’t think not wanting to kill a child makes you especially kind.”

“I am no child!” He paused. “Well, I suppose I am not an adult yet either…hm.” He thoughtfully swallowed his chicken and began working on a piece of bread as Japha ran around the inside of the cell.

I sat on the stool I always used. It was a short stool, so with my feet on the ground, my knees came as high as my chest. I rested my elbows on my knees and cradled my chin in my hands, watching him eat. He smiled. “Having you stare at me while I eat makes me a bit self-conscious.”

“Will you miss me?” I blurted out.

“Hm?”

“When we open the portal and you leave.”

“Ah.” He chewed his bread. He kept chewing it, thinking so long I was starting to get annoyed. Presently, he said “I will not miss this cell. And I will not miss your people’s flavorless food. But…” he swallowed the last bite of bread and looked me in the eye. “Yes, I shall miss our conversations.” Japha continued to run in a circle, screaming.

I smiled and leaned back, putting my arms behind me to support me. “Hmhm, I suppose your Aijalon women are nothing compared with me!”

“Oh, indeed, indeed. None are so rude, or gluttonous, or plain-looking.”

“Hey! I am not plain-looking!” I tried to sit up to wag my finger at him, but I lost my balance and fell to my left. I felt a sharp pain in my left forearm, and when I looked, I saw it was scraped and had started bleeding.

“Rakel! Are you all right?”

Hehe, this was an opportunity to show off. “I will be, when I do this!” I opened myself to the Expanse and performed the hand gestures for the Life spell Granny had taught me the other day. I had been practicing, and I was confident I could heal an injury this small without difficulty.

Only the Expanse didn’t come to me as naturally as it should have. Normally, the Expanse was like a river of power flowing through me, but now it felt like the river was clogged with debris and sludge. And when I finally took in enough power to use the spell, the hand motions felt wrong, even though I was sure they were the exact ones Granny had taught me.

As a result, the trickle of blood coming from my scraped shoulder turned into a small stream. I let out a little yelp of surprise and pain.

Japha stopped running and looked at me inquisitively, while Shemman looked concerned. “Are you sure you are all right?” the latter asked.

“This isn’t supposed to happen,” I said, cupping my hand to the cut. Immediately, my fingers grew wet with blood.

“Did you attempt a spell to heal yourself?” I nodded, my eyes beginning to tear up. “Ah, that fits. Come here.” I approached the cage and put my injured arm between the bars. Shemman tore a strip of cloth from his clothing and began to bind the wound. His hands were firm but gentle as they lightly brushed my arm. “Why would you attempt a spell in our presence?”

“Eh?”

“Did you not know? The Aijalon people interfere with the flow of what you mages call the Expanse. In our presence, spells behave oddly, rebelling against their caster if the mage is not careful. That is why our people have always served as the assassins who stand against the tyranny of mages.” He paused. “Or, as my masters put it, we are devil-hunters.” He tied the bandage with a neat knot and stood back. “There.”

I wiped away the tears of pain and surprise. “W-well. Not a bad job, I suppose. For you, anyway.”

“Yes, yes.” He collected his and Japha’s plates and presented them to me. “You ought best to return to your people.”

To show him I was feeling better, I put on my most impish grin and said “I suppose I can tell my father all about how I got a wound from the big scary Aijalon.”

Japha looked concerned. “But that is wrong! Miss Rakel, you shouldn’t lie.”

Shemman grinned back at me. “And I shall relish telling the story of the mage who so failed at magic that she wounded herself with a simple spell.” We both laughed.

Japha said earnestly “but brother, that’s a lie too!”

Shemman and I both laughed even harder.