Kilenya Series Books One, Two, and Three (75 page)

Read Kilenya Series Books One, Two, and Three Online

Authors: Andrea Pearson

Tags: #Children's Books, #Action & Adventure, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy & Magic, #Children's eBooks, #Science Fiction; Fantasy & Scary Stories, #Sword & Sorcery, #Science Fiction, #Time Travel, #MG Fantasy

“I tried one last trip to the city to see if I could find Kelson’s remains. I couldn’t get in. Everything had been shut off.”

Dad turned to Ebony. “Now we have a way past the first two traps, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Are you coming when we get the Shiengols?” Jacob asked Dad.

“Yes—”


No
, he’s
not
,” Gallus said. Everyone turned to him—he hadn’t spoken in a while. “Your Majesty, I know how much you want to be involved, but having Jacob go is bad enough. We still have you if he doesn’t make it. But if you both go, and both of you are destroyed? We need a leader here to take us through the revolution.”

Dad rubbed his forehead, looking disappointed. “Yes, I know. I . . . never mind.” He put on a mask of determination, then closed the meeting shortly thereafter. The only assignments he’d given were for the Makalos to work with the people now pulled from the scented air, and for Jacob and Matt to focus on their sports. Everyone else was to continue what they’d been doing already.

 

 

 

Chapter 5. Midian of the North

 

 

T
he day and time for basketball tryouts were finally posted the next morning. They’d been scheduled for Wednesday, right after school. During lunch, Jacob called up Scott—the older teen he used to practice with—and arranged to get together with the guys both Monday and Tuesday as soon as class got out.

The Makalos were busy with the people pulled from the scented air, and since Dad had told Jacob to focus on basketball, he didn’t feel guilty taking the time away from other things.

They played for three hours on Monday—Scott making sure Jacob knew the ins and outs of tryouts, what would happen and how things would go—then finally called it quits after Jacob was sure he’d never be able to lift his arms again.

That evening, Mom helped him ice his shoulders and upper arms so they wouldn’t get sore. Tuesday wasn’t nearly as grueling, and Jacob rushed inside after Scott dropped him off, eager to do homework with Aloren.

“Uh, Jacob . . .” Aloren tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Mom was curled up on the couch, reading a book, and Jacob and Aloren had just finished working on assignments for history and science.

“Yeah?” He grabbed her math book, glad she was a level or two below him—made it easier to help her when he didn’t have to look up the answer to every problem.

“I've decided I want to walk to and from Taga Village—it really isn't that far. Oh, and Jacob?” She hesitated. “Uh . . . Kevin’s going to help me with my math homework. Also, he wants to come pick me up for school. And take me home. From now on.”

Jacob dropped the book, gawking at her. “That’s . . . that’s
ridiculous
.”

“Why?” She paused. “You don’t like him very much, do you?”

“No, and for good reason. He’s a jerk. He damaged property, and he . . . he tried to keep me from playing basketball at the school, and . . .” Jacob had been about to say something about Kevin smashing him against the drinking fountain a couple of months ago, but decided against it.

“But he lets you play
now
, so what’s the problem?” She took a deep breath. “Never mind. It’s just that I’m . . . roma—I really like him, Jacob.”

What? What was she talking about? There was no way! “It’s only been a week! How’s that possible?”

She didn’t answer for a moment, instead opening her backpack and pulling out her art stuff. “I don’t know. He’s kind to me, and I find him very attractive.”

Jacob blew out his breath in exasperation. “Well, that’s just
great
. Most girls
do
.” Most girls thought Jacob was good looking, too. Why didn’t Aloren? And wasn’t
he
nice to her? He’d rescued her, after all. Didn’t that count for anything?

No one spoke for a while. Jacob leaned against the couch, staring at the ceiling. He didn’t feel like doing homework anymore. Aloren shuffled through her art papers, but he could tell she wasn’t concentrating on them.

Mom must have sensed the tension. She set her book aside. “Aloren, why don’t you tell us about your mother?”

Aloren fiddled with her backpack. “I . . .”

“That is, if you’re comfortable with it. I’ve been meaning to ask, but didn’t want to upset you.”

“Oh, Your Majesty, you could
never
upset me. And you’re free to ask anything you wish to know.”

“Come on, Aloren,” Jacob said, trying to keep the irritation from his voice. “Just treat her like she’s a normal person. Mom’s not a queen here.”

Aloren looked at Jacob, horrified. “I couldn’t possibly! She’s . . . she’s . . .”

“You don’t treat
me
like royalty.”

“That’s different.”

“How? Technically, you should—”

“All right,” Mom said. “That’s enough. Aloren, he’s right. Here, I’m his mother, and that’s perfectly fine. In Eklaron, it’s different. I would expect you to wash my feet, mend my clothes, watch over my horses, and serve me food.”

Aloren’s mouth popped open, then she must have seen the twinkle in Mom’s eyes because they both laughed. Jacob jerked the zipper down on his hoodie and yanked his arms out of the sleeves. Aloren took things way too seriously sometimes.

“I’m okay talking about my mother. It doesn’t bother me. What would you like to know?”

“How did she die?”

“She slipped away quietly. Gallus thinks she went into a coma.”

“What caused it? Do you know?”

Aloren rested against the arm chair behind her. “She’d sustained many injuries before I was born—possibly while she was pregnant with me—and her mind was never quite right after that. Her health was pretty bad, too.”

Mom leaned forward. “Did she ever talk to you about your family? Where you came from?”

“Yes, but by the time I was old enough to understand, she’d already forgotten my father’s name and who her parents had been. I’ll probably never know if half of the stories she told were even true. Her energy to talk left soon after she got really sick, and by the time she passed, she hadn’t spoken or moved for several months.”

Aloren looked at the art papers in her hands. Jacob peered at her from the corner of his eye—no tears. Oh, good.

“What did she look like?” Mom asked.

“She was very lovely. Brown hair—a little darker than mine. And the prettiest, brightest smile you’d ever see. She was quiet—always said my father was the outgoing one. She missed him a great deal and spoke of him all the time.”

The front door opened, and Dad stepped through. “Honey, I’m home!” He put his briefcase down, hung up his coat, then kissed Mom and said hello to Jacob and Aloren.

“Dinner’s in the Crock-Pot,” Mom said. “We’ll be eating in an hour.”

He nodded, loosening his tie, and went to the family room, probably to unwind from work.

Mom turned back to Aloren. “Did your mother always live in Macaria?”

Jacob frowned. “So many questions. Aloren, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want.”

Aloren shook her head. “Honestly, Jacob, I don’t mind. It helps to talk about her.” She turned back to Mom. “She was from Maivoryl City—lived there her whole life.”

“Hmmm.” Mom picked up her book again and fingered the pages, a contemplative expression crossing her face. “What did she do there? Was she employed?”

“Yes. As a lady-in-waiting, I think, for someone fairly high up—a noble woman, perhaps. She didn’t quite remember everything.”

Mom nodded slowly. “I should remember her, then. Brown hair. Most everyone had brown hair.” She looked blankly at the wall opposite her, concentrating. Finally, she shook her head and looked back at Aloren. “I’m assuming your father also worked in Maivoryl. What did he do?”

“If what she said was true, he worked somewhere in the stables.”

“Really? That’s . . . that’s very interesting.” She put the book down, scooting to the edge of the couch. “What did he look like?” she asked, urgency in her voice.

Jacob perked up—the expression on his mom’s face told him this wasn’t a random question.

“I don’t know. She never told me.”

“What are you getting at, Mom?” Jacob asked.

“Nothing, dear. Only . . .” She paused. The colors for nervousness and excitement flowed in the air around her. “Aloren, what was your mother’s name?”

“She called herself Mide. Gallus said her name was technically Midian of the North, but she never used—”

Mom gasped, surprise and excitement flooding her features. “Oh, my . . .” She sprang to her feet, dropping the book on the couch. “Dmitri! Dmitri, you must come at once!”

Jacob jumped up too, eager to find out why his mom was so excited.

Dad rushed into the room, panic on his face. “What’s going on?”

Mom grabbed his hand, her face shining. Jacob was astonished to see tears in her eyes.

“Dear, guess who Aloren’s mother was? Guess?” She practically bounced up and down.

“I don’t know . . .”

“Midian!”

“Of the North? Are you sure?” Excitement crossed his features. “That would mean—”

“Her dad was Kelson!” they said at the same time. Mom squealed and Dad laughed, throwing his arms around her, holding her tight. The brightest shade of green Jacob had yet seen flowed through the air around them. They were
really
excited about this.

Then what they’d said hit Jacob, and he stumbled closer to them. “Kelson? As in—you mean—
Dad’s best friend
?” And then Jacob realized something else. Was it possible? Were Aloren and Matt siblings?

“Wait,” Aloren said, obviously very confused. “I don’t understand. You know my parents?”

Mom and Dad nodded. Both were crying now. Mom helped Aloren to her feet, and she and Dad hugged her tightly.

“They were very close to us,” Dad said.

Mom laughed. “I would never have dreamed Aloren was their daughter! Not in a million years!”

“Kelson’s girl!” Dad shook his head in amazement. “Midian must’ve been pregnant when we dropped her off in Macaria—”

“Had to have been—”

“It’s the only explanation.”

Aloren still looked shell-shocked. “Kelson—you mean the man who died when he tried to release the Shiengols?”

Mom nodded. She looked at Dad. “But why didn’t Gallus tell us?”

“He wouldn’t have known. When Kenji and I went back to Macaria, Midian had run off. Gallus assumed she’d died, since it had been a week.” Dad shook his head. “Obviously, she returned after we left, and we’d have sealed off the entrance to Taga Village by then. And Gallus didn’t know that we were still alive.”

Aloren nodded. “She ran away several times when I was little. Gallus always found her again, though, and after a while, she got too sick to do that anymore.”

Jacob held up his hands. “Okay, so let me get this straight. Kelson’s wife, the one Dad and his group came across while trying to find Mom and me, was Aloren’s mom? And Gallus was Kenji’s friend who took her in?”

“That’s right, son,” Dad said. “And think it through a little harder. When Kenji and I went to Maivoryl City after getting you and your mother, what were we doing there?”

Jacob scratched his cheek. “Cleaning up after the Lorkon? Taking care of people? Fixing broken buildings?”

“Yes, and we helped the orphans. Made sure there was someone to take care of as many of them as possible. And we took one of the orphans to raise as our own—Kelson’s son.”

Jacob nodded, a huge smile crossing his face. He’d been right! “Yeah, I remember now. That
would
mean Matt—”

Aloren gasped. “Matt . . . Matt is . . .” She put her hand over her mouth. “He’s my brother?”

Mom nodded. “His name used to be Devlin. We changed it to Matt when we moved here.”

Aloren laughed. “He’s my brother! I’ve found my brother!” She grabbed Jacob and flung him around her, dancing with him, squealing. Jacob chuckled, trying to keep up with her.

Then abruptly she let go and fell to the ground, bursting into tears. Mom dropped next to her, throwing her arms around her shaking shoulders.

Wow. Jacob hadn’t been expecting that. Dad didn’t look shocked, though, and Jacob folded his arms, matching his dad’s casual stance. “This is so crazy,” he said. “And it means that when Aloren went to Maivoryl City, all that time her brother was here, safe and sound.”

Aloren sobbed louder.

Jacob couldn’t believe it. Matt was Aloren’s brother! He never would have guessed it.

Just then, Matt walked through the front door.

Dad chuckled. “Speak of the devil . . .”

Matt dropped his backpack and gym bag. “Whoa. What’s going on here?”

“Would you like to tell him?” Mom asked, helping Aloren to her feet.

“Can’t . . . talk . . . you . . .”

Matt focused on Aloren, orange-yellow—the color for concern—flowing around him. “What did you guys do to her?” He grabbed a box of tissues from an end table, holding them out to Aloren.

“Oh, nothing,” Dad said, a huge grin on his face. “Just told her the most important information she’s ever heard. And it involves you.”

Matt’s face went white. “What’s going on? Who died? Am I being sent to prison?”

“No, of co—” Dad paused, the expression on his face and colors swirling around him showing his suspicion. “Why would you be sent to prison?”

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