Broadswords - 43. The Reunion

Broadswords

Chapter Forty-Three
The Reunion

Working the bar just didn't feel right to Kep considering everything that was going on. But they still had a business to run. As long as the kingdom wasn't destroyed, that was. And he couldn't keep letting Sal handle everything on his own. His brother had only just been getting involved in helping out running the inn, and the experience at the cave had put a damper on that. So as much as he didn't feel up to it, Kep was back to pouring drinks for their patrons.

Phërion and Roark had offered to help, but Kep declined. It was true that neither he nor Sal were running the place as they normally would, both of them less upbeat and focused. But they didn't need the help. Well, it was true that it would have been pleasant to have less to worry about. At the same time, Kep still hadn't shaken what Phërion had suggested the night before.

He wasn't quite sure why the concept bothered him so much. If it were true, would it really be that bad? In a way, it might. Mancies had developed a strong reputation in Jhirdyr, and it wasn't a positive one. Then again, Kep wasn't closed-minded to things such as that.

It was more likely that he was perplexed because everything was just happening so fast. A month and a half ago, he'd been a simple innkeep trying to keep the family business afloat with his brother. And since that time, he'd been thrown into a whole new world. Dragons, weapons, magic… it was as if he'd traded places with someone else. And suddenly the idea that he might actually have some kind of connection to that world, it was just too much to deal with all at once.

Based on everything, he knew that he had also rejected Phërion's assistance because he was shutting the man out. It was something the old Kep would do, not the man that he had become over the years in changing his outlook on life. He hated himself for it, but he didn't know what else to do.

As a customer entered the room, the rest of the guests let out various gasps of surprise as a dove flew into the open door. It startled Kep as well when it flew up to him and landed on the bar. He stared at it for a moment until it pecked at his hand. "Ouch," he said reflexively, pulling his arm away from it. Then he realized that it had a piece of parchment attached to it. It was a messenger dove. He had never gotten one before.

Carefully, he removed the paper from the bird. It flew back toward the door and fluttered around for a bit until someone opened the door back up to let it out. He held the parchment for a moment before Sal came up to his side. "Are you going to open it?"

Swallowing, Kep looked at his brother. "I'm pretty sure I know what it says." He knew there was only one reason he'd be getting a message via messenger dove, and he wasn't ready to open it. But he knew that he had to. He broke the small wax seal and unrolled the scroll. There was just one word. Now.

He suddenly felt dizzy, and was thankful that his brother had enough sense to notice and pull up a chair. He sat down in it, letting his shoulders slump. Though he thought he would be ready when the time came, it was different now that it was happening. He didn't know what to do.

"Well?" Sal asked. "Is it… is it what we think it is?" Kep glanced up at his brother, not saying a word. He could tell that Sal knew what the look meant. They both remained silent for a while. Eventually, Kep slipped the note into the trash. He surveyed the room, watching the guests as they went about their days. Eating a meal, having a drink, being part of a regular, run-of-the-mill conversation. None of them knew what he knew. They were all oblivious to the fact that their city could be destroyed that very day.

"I need to go," Kep said, abruptly standing up. He didn't know what he was doing to do, but it dawned on him that he couldn't keep sitting there doing nothing. He made to move past Sal, but his brother stopped him.

"What are you going to do, Kep? You can't fight! You can't kill a dragon! If you try to go out there you're sure to wind up dead! I know our relationship has been strained over the years, but you're my brother and I love you. And I love how much closer we've gotten over the past several weeks. I don't want you to go and do something stupid."

He knew Sal was right. He knew there was nothing he could do to actually help on the frontlines of battle. But he also knew he couldn't sit there and let his imagination run wild. "I don't know what I'm going to do. I've just got to get out of here."

Pushing past his brother, he walked around the bar and through the door. He didn't like the thought of how much anxiety and upset he was causing to Sal at that moment, but he would go insane if he didn't get out of the dining room.

He'd only made it a few paces out of the inn and into the street when someone stopped in front of him. His head was hung, so he didn't take notice right away. "Oh, excuse me," he said absentmindedly, and went to bypass them. But they stepped in the same direction as him, blocking his path.

"Kep?" It was a woman's voice, slightly breathy and nervous.

As he lifted his head, he looked at the woman. She was about the same height as he, with dark hair and eyes that looked like his. She had the same complexion as he did, too, and there was something about her facial structure that was familiar. Watching the way she bit her lip in hesitation, the realization fully formed. "M-mother?" he stammered.

At that she smiled, a sparkle playing at her eyes. She reached toward him, as if wanting a hug. But he took a step back, and both the smile and the sparkle disappeared. She let her arms fall back down to her sides.

"What… what are you doing here? What happened to you? Where have you been?" The questions spewed from his mouth like lava. He was barely aware of what he was saying. Everything that had run through his mind for years was now becoming verbalized as if by no control of his own.

"Kep, there's so much to explain. I know that. But there's not time, not right now. I can tell you everything you want to know, once we're safe." He watched as she fiddled with something at her chest beneath her dress. He knew what it was. He remembered it, from before she disappeared. It was a small, poorly made locket. His father had made it for her when Kep and Sal were both young. He'd inscribed it with Kep and Sal's names. He was no metalworker, that was certain, so it was a crude necklace. But it had been the sentiment of it that made their mother wear it. And the fact that she still had it was a slap in the face.

"You're damn right there's a lot to explain," he said. He was incredulous that she had the nerve to show up out of the blue after all this time and not give him the decency of some answers. There was something in the back of his mind, though, that told him he shouldn't be all that surprised that he was in her company now. After all, the dreams he'd had included her. Phërion's suggestion was swirling around in his brain, and that was another question he had for her. But there were far more pressing ones he had first.

"And I promise you'll hear it all, but I need to get you and Sal out of this kingdom," she responded. The same breathless nervousness was back at her voice. "Jhirdyr is in great danger right now."

"I know that," he said, accusation forming on his face. "But how do you know that?"

"Kep, please." She did seem mildly frantic, he'd give her that. But the way she was acting also told him that she was well aware of the exact danger the kingdom was in. She knew about the dragons. And that thought frightened him more than anything.

He wasn't going anywhere with her until he knew what she knew. "If you expect me or Sal to trust you in the slightest, you have to tell me what it is that you know. You've been gone for thirteen years. No goodbye, no contact. For all we knew, you were dead. And you show up now knowing that something is about to happen and you want me to just trust you?"

She sighed, and he could tell that she was about to give in. After all, what other choice did she have? He was aware that this conversation being held in the middle of the street might not be the best place for it, but he did not want to go back into the inn until he knew what was going on. The last thing he needed to was for Sal to see her.

"A man named Elsior has launched an attack on the kingdom. He's got a slew of infant dragons in a cave to the north that are about to do his bidding and destroy the entire city. You and Sal were supposed to be spared, but he double-crossed me and didn't hold up that end of the bargain. I had to find my own means to get here and get the two of you away before it begins."

It wasn't that she knew who Elsior was that threw him off. It wasn't that she knew about the dragons, or the cave, or the plan. It wasn't even that she found a way into the kingdom so quickly after the dragons had emerged from wherever she had been. It was that she was somehow involved in the whole thing.

"Double-crossed you? That end of the bargain? Are you telling me that you've been part of this?" he asked. He didn't like the tone he was using. He didn't know he was capable of it. And whether it was the wild range of emotions he'd had over the past few days, the disgust he was feeling toward his own mother, or the general fear of what was coming, he was beginning to feel sick to his stomach.

"Helping him was the only way I could ensure your safety—" she began, but he cut her off.

"No! You could have ensured our safety by warning us what he was doing! Not by helping him. That makes absolutely no sense." However, as he said it, he realized that there was one logical explanation for why she would help Elsior. His eyes narrowed. "Unless you're not against the plan."

It was then that a defensiveness began underlying her tone. The whole back and forth of the moods and energies between the two of them throughout the whole conversation was as if they'd been stirred up in a pot of stew. It seemed exaggerated. Then again, he hadn't seen his mother in over a decade. He had no clue which of these was her normal persona.

She didn't acknowledge what he'd said, but he could tell that he was onto something based on her response. "Kep, please. I've told you what you wanted to know, now we must go. I shouldn't be seen here."

"Why not, mother? What happened thirteen years ago? What happened that caused you to help someone hatch a plan to destroy an entire kingdom? A kingdom in which you don't want to risk being seen?" He didn't like the way he was speaking to her, the woman that had birthed him, but he also didn't like the fact that she seemed like a complete stranger to him.

He continued to stare at her, but she was no longer giving in. Realizing she would continue to be stubborn, he finally came to grips that it was a losing battle. He believed that she would give him answers. But he knew that it wouldn't happen now. Not yet. Not until she'd gotten her way. "Okay," he said. "Okay, I'll go with you. But there's one thing that I do need an answer on before I'll go."

She looked at him but said nothing, the expression on her face a clear go-ahead. However, she didn't seem amused. Then again, he was far from amused himself.

"Are you an Oneiromancer?" he asked.

Her reaction changed, but just barely. The stubbornness was joined by suspicion, and her eyes squinted ever-so-slightly. Still, she didn't utter a word. But to Kep, it was enough to confirm the answer to the question. His mind was reeling with what exactly that meant for him, if it meant Phërion was right.

But even more so, he wondered if her powers were what caused whatever happened to Birten. While he didn't know all the ins and outs of it, he'd picked up on enough of the talk that had gone through the castle to have somewhat of an idea. And based on everything else that had happened, and the few clues he was gathering from her now, it didn't seem all that farfetched. "Are you familiar with a man named Birten?"

Her eyes narrowed further, and then he was sure that she was the cause of his brainwashing. It made him sick. But from what he'd learned from Daegon, who'd been brought up to speed by Harmon, the type of magic that had befallen Birten could only be undone by the person who'd induced it in the first place. So he needed her.

"Birten is very important to me," he said. "I need you to come with me to the castle. I need you to fix him. If you do that, I'll go with you."