Read Online The Land's Whisper by Monica Lee Kennedy - Free Book Online

choked. “What do you
mean?”
    “Doesn’t work that way, at least usually.
Portals are for drawing people, not for sending.”
    “But he cannot stay. He cannot. It isn’t
safe and then his mother will be—” He stopped, not wishing to
disclose more. “How can I get him back?”
    The stranger shrugged lazily. “Perhaps you
never can.”
    Darse closed his eyes, picturing the events
that would ensue back on Alatrice. When he opened them again, the
figure had disappeared. He stared about the glade, but no one was
there.
    Darse again scanned the area and, in the
sweep, locked eyes with Brenol. The boy had just woken, and his
face was red and creased. He rose fidgeting, evidently
uncomfortable.
    “I…” Brenol fumbled over his words. “I don’t
know what to say.”
    Darse was not an impetuous man, but he still
found it difficult to not erupt in exasperation. There the youth
stood, barefoot, with maroon clay caked on face and copper hair
matted upon head. He had not given a single thought to anyone but
himself. Now, the consequences would be greater than either of them
could bear.
    “You could apologize, son,” Darse said
behind gritted teeth.
    “But I…” Brenol halted as quickly as he had
begun. He was fourteen and rash, but he loved Darse more than
anyone. Shame-faced, he flushed. “I’m…sorry.” He stared at his
soiled feet and felt the sharp inadequacy of words. The guilt that
had dogged his heels in the canal was nothing compared to the
torture of this moment.
    “I forgive you,” Darse replied, but there
was no relief in his voice. He found Brenol’s eyes. “It’s not safe
here.” He glanced around for the sly figure. “We have to find a way
to get you back.” The menacing dream-voice resounded in his ears.
It had sought the boy. It had known his name.
    Brenol’s spine twitched as he recalled his
own brush with a strange voice in the cave, but he quickly shook it
away as nonsense. “Darsey. I don’t know what you’re talking about,”
the boy insisted. “Look at this place! No one is around! And I am with you. There is nothing wrong. You’ve been invited! Let me
stay with you.”
    Darse’s fingers gripped his belt. “Bren… I
know you don’t understand right now, but I need you to trust me.
I’m not just trying to get rid of you. I’m not. I need to know this
place is safe before I can bring you here. And I couldn’t just slip
you away from your mother to leave her to face the scrutarni and an
inquiry.” Darse’s eyes narrowed on him solemnly. “It will not go
well for her. No, Bren. It isn’t time yet. I have to take you back.
I have to.”
    “No.”
    “No?” Darse raised his eyebrows, felt the
surge of emotion rising, and braced himself for the fight.
    “She doesn’t care about me. You know it. You say you love me, but then why are you so willing to
leave me?” Brenol had begun with the intention of using a new
argument, but saying the words out loud brought the truth of them
to his core. The boy felt raw, as if his soul had been dragged
behind a horse’s plow for the space of a day’s labor.
    Darse thought back to the previous night. Can Brenol not see that this is about more than him? That this
is my heritage and life? And still—that I even go for him?
To hopefully make a place for him?
    Orbits of weariness seemed to sink deep into
Darse’s bones. When he spoke, his words came out with a shudder
that could not be concealed. “Bren, I’ll come back to Alatrice with
you. I won’t stay here in Massada if we can find a way back.” His
back slumped in acceptance. Yes, he felt old indeed.
    Brenol stilled. “You’d do that?” he asked.
His stomach suddenly soured at the thought of this man living out
his days atop the portal that would likely close forever with his
death.
    “Of course. I don’t think that I should , but yes, I would.”
    “Oh,” Brenol sighed and stepped back,
sinking into the soft mud by the bank. His feet were barely visible
beneath the