Mark of Four Page 29

  Jayme smiled and shrugged. “I’m just here to support Alayne, ma’am. Don’t worry about me.”

  Wynn hesitated. The clock ticked in the stillness.

  “Oh, for the love of all that’s holy, Mom, Jayme is not going to go blab.”

  Wynn flushed. “When I was a student at Clayborne, my best friend was named Patience Manders. Yes, Professor Manders’s sister.” She glanced at Alayne. “She and I were in the same class, so we did everything together. All our classes, all our extra-curricular activities, everything. We were two peas in a pod.” She smiled wistfully. “Then, about the time graduation rolled around, I met your dad. He was the son of one of the groundskeepers at Clayborne, and we started seeing each other. Of course, that took time away from Patience, and she got a little jealous.”

  Bryan snorted. “A lot jealous,” he muttered.

  Wynn shrugged. “She did try to get your grandfather fired. She had just accepted a job as a professor at the school, teaching Throw-Casting, and she tried to use her position to make Heath resign. Of course, Heath would have none of it. He wasn’t going anywhere, and he told her so—right in the middle of a staff meeting.”

  Bryan shook his head. “Not the wisest move my dad ever made. He went storming in and started yelling at Patience and telling her exactly what he thought of her and anyone related to her.”

  “It didn’t go over so well with the staff. The story went to the board, and Heath was relieved of his job.” Wynn glanced at Bryan. “They offered the position to your dad.”

  “Wait a second. My grandfather got fired, and Dad, his son, had to step in for him?” Alayne asked, unbelieving.

  “Yep.” Wynn straightened and continued. “At any rate, the relationship between Patience and me certainly did not get better as a result of that whole mess. We had gotten to the point where we didn’t even talk to each other. Meanwhile, Patience met someone, married him and had a baby, and your dad and I got married and moved in with Heath in the cottage where he lived on the grounds of Clayborne. I got pregnant with you almost right away.” Wynn smiled in her daughter’s direction.

  “You were born with red fuzz on your head, Layne. It used to stick out in all directions; you looked like a little peach.” Wynn laughed softly and then sobered. “But then Heath died, and we started struggling to make ends meet. Especially after you were born, things just weren’t coming together.”

  Wynn paused, lost in thought. After a moment, she sighed and continued. “Patience tried to reconcile with me; she wanted to be friends again, so she offered to help us any way she could—swap baby-sitting, playdates, that sort of thing. She tried to bridge the gap between us, but your dad and I weren’t—very forgiving.”

  Alayne tried to imagine her parents as hard, bitter, angry people, but couldn’t force them into that mold. She shook her head.

  Wynn abruptly stood and went into the kitchen. She returned with a glass of water, sipping it as she leaned against the door frame. Her face was relaxed, more so than Alayne could ever remember seeing it. Her gaze was distant as she peeled away layers of memory like onion skins. The remains were potent, stinging, and raw.

  She continued in a voice coated with feeling. “Patience lost her husband, and I suppose I started to mellow toward her. She sent me a note one night saying she had a make-up gift for me. She wanted me to meet her in the tunnels under the school, because the gift was a secret. Well, you know me and my curiosity.”

  “Do I?” The question was an accusation. “Do I really know you, Mom?”

  Wynn flinched. She took another sip of water and continued. “I decided to see what she had for me. That night, I sneaked into the tunnels and waited in the cold and damp for Patience to show up.”

  “And she never did,” Alayne guessed.

  “No, no, she showed up. She was dragging this huge monstrosity of a package with her. I had no idea what it was, but I soon found out. She let the packaging fall away, and there was a mirror.” Wynn’s eyes sharpened on Alayne’s face. “An odd-looking mirror; it had a frame around it that looked like flames—red and orange and brown.”

  Alayne’s eyes widened. “My mirror.”

  Wynn nodded. “Yes, apparently. You’re going to have to tell me how you came across that mirror again. I was under the impression that it was long gone. But let me finish my story first.”

  Alayne didn’t move. Her anger only mounted as her mother spoke. How much her parents had hidden from her.

  “I stood there and stared at the mirror and then asked Patience something smart, like ‘Why’d you bring me a ridiculous-looking mirror?’

  “Patience had had enough. She leaned the mirror against the wall, walked over to me, and cracked me across the cheek with the flat of her hand. It stung, and my—my temper flared.” Wynn shook her head, regret staining her expression. “I wanted to retaliate, to hurt her like she’d just hurt me. I grabbed the edge of the mirror and flung it to the ground. The shattering glass stopped both of us in our tracks. Patience lifted the mirror, and I’ll never forget the way her face just ... crumpled.”

  Wynn fell silent for a moment, remembering. “Of course, I felt terrible. She’d gone to all this trouble to bring me a present, and there I was throwing a fit, not really for any reason other than the fact that I was still mad at her.”

  Wynn made a face and continued. “I apologized, and she nodded. We didn’t say much at first, just sat there for a long time together. When we finally did start talking, we worked out all our grievances against each other. When we left, I remember feeling like I’d gotten my best friend back again. She gave me one of the broken pieces of mirror before I left; she pressed it into my hands and said, ‘I know it’s not what I had originally intended to give you, but it would make me so happy if you would just take it.’ I couldn’t see much use in a broken triangle of glass, but I wasn’t going to fight with her after we’d made up.”

  “What happened to the mirror?” Jayme spoke from the couch. Alayne jumped; she’d nearly forgotten his presence behind her.

  “We left it down there, but Patience brought me back the next day to explain its properties. As you’ve discovered, the mirror, when it is whole, opens a portal from one place to another. I asked Patience where in the world she had come up with a magic mirror, and she told me her story.”

  Alayne returned to the couch to sit next to Jayme. He slid his fingers through hers and squeezed her hand. She could almost hear his unspoken words. Be calm, Al. Let her explain. Tension stiffened her body. She didn’t want to be calm. She wanted to hold on to her anger. Her mother deserved it for the years of deceit.

  “Of course, you know about the Vale,” Wynn continued.

  Alayne pulled in a sharp breath. Jayme’s grasp on her hand tightened.

  Wynn tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “The last man to ‘own’ the Vale for any length of time was a man named Quynn Flanng; he lived close to two hundred years ago. He was the one who finally recognized the precipice on which the world teetered as each country fought for control of it. He and his four sons set up a sort of quarantine around the Vale. His sons built a Temple in the eastern mountains of the Continent, and Quynn Flanng placed the Vale in the Temple and set his sons as Guardians of the Vale for all their lives.”

  “So Quynn Flanng was the first Guardian?”

  Again, Wynn shook her head. “No, not a Guardian. He died almost immediately after he gave up possession of the Vale. Since his death, the Vale has stayed under the surveillance of the Guardians, his sons and grandsons.”

  “Where in the eastern mountains is the Vale’s Temple?” Alayne asked eagerly, already thinking of Marysa, although determined not to say what the Casters had asked her to do. No amount of pleading to return would persuade her parents after that. Macy Foy had said the Vale was at Clayborne, but maybe she was wrong. This might be a lead that would play out.

  “Only the Guardians know. It’s a closely guarded secret.”

  Alayne sat back in disappointment and fr
ustration. At last she sighed. “So what’s this have to do with the mirror and Patience?”

  “The mirror is tied in with the Vale. The Guardians used the mirror as one of their major forms of protection. It sat in the Temple, in the same room where the Vale rested. The Guardians could keep watch for threats to the Vale through the mirror; it would show them anyone who had made plans to attack, and as you know, it’s a quick trip to various parts of CommonEarth with the mirror. The Guardians would keep an eye on who was plotting what, and if the situation would escalate, they would travel through the mirror to wherever these people were and kill them all.”

  Alayne’s jaw tightened. “They sound bloody.”

  Wynn’s eyebrows arched. “They were, and for good reason. The world wanted control of the Vale, and the wars it generated were not trivialities. The Vale drew people to it like a bee to pollen, and the Guardians kept the Vale from others to—keep peace, in a way.”

  “It could do that? Draw people to it, I mean?” Alayne asked.

  “The Vale has many powers, Layne. That’s just one of them. Legend says that it has healing properties as well, I suppose because it transfers some of itself to whomever possesses it.”

  Alayne struggled to understand the enormity of what her mother said, but the picture felt too big, too jarring.

  Wynn went on. “I suppose they are still there, the Guardians, though for the most part, they’ve disappeared. I think they still watch the Vale, but no one knows for sure. When the Vale was stolen from the Temple, the Guardians deserted the place, probably spreading out to try to find it. No one knows what happened to them after that.”

  “The Vale was stolen?” Jayme’s voice again jolted Alayne. She was lost in her thoughts.

  “That’s where Patience comes in. She was the one who stole it. With the mirror and all, I have no idea how she did it. She never told me, and—she died before I could ask.”

  This part of the story, at least, matched up with what Alayne had learned in Professor Manders’s office. She shuddered as she remembered his description of Patience’s last struggle in the tunnels beneath Clayborne.

  Alayne pulled herself back to the conversation. “You’ve explained about the Vale and the mirror, but I still want to know why you thought it was so necessary to lie to me about you being an Elemental?” Her voice was hard.

  Wynn flushed. “I’ve been working up to that. When Patience tried to give me the mirror, you were almost a year old.” She paused, swallowing. She quietly set her cup on the counter in the kitchen and sank into her seat beside Bryan. Her eyes watered.

  “One stormy night, Patience showed up on our doorstep in the pouring rain, soaked to the skin, sobbing and blubbering about how he was after her. I had no idea what she was talking about—it had been a couple of months since I’d seen her because she’d gone home over summer break, so I felt like I had lost track of what was happening in her life. I dragged her in the door, and your dad barred it and locked the windows while I made some hot tea and tried to get out of her what was wrong.”

  “Simeon Malachi?”

  Wynn stared at Alayne. “Yes, how did you know?”

  “Manders told me that Malachi had eventually caught up with Patience in the tunnels beneath the school.”

  “Ah, so you’ve heard this part.”

  “I haven’t heard how it happened,” Alayne clarified, “just that it happened.”

  Wynn glanced at Bryan before continuing. “Well, I thought at first she meant her husband, or a vision of her husband, since he had been dead now for a while, but she started crying about Simeon Malachi. Naturally, I wanted to know how in the world she had gotten mixed up with Malachi, but she couldn’t stop crying. I eventually figured out Malachi was after her because she possessed the Vale, and he was coming to claim it. She sobbed on and on about how she had to hide it. She wanted us to take it at first, but we wouldn’t hear of that, not with a baby in the house and Malachi’s reputation for killing anyone and everyone that got in his way.”

  Alayne shivered. “What happened?”

  “Bryan had come in and was listening. He suggested finding a spot in the tunnels under Clayborne. They were mostly storage places anyway, and most people didn’t know about them. As the groundskeeper, he had a key.

  “Patience seemed okay with that idea, so Bryan put on his slicker and headed out the door to unlock the gate. After he left, Patience kept looking around like she saw a ghost in every corner. The poor girl was terrified. Suddenly, she turned to me and pleaded with me to go after Bryan and get him to come back, so afraid was she that Malachi would arrive any moment. She didn’t want to live with the thought that Bryan’s death would be on her head.

  “I tried to explain that it wasn’t far—that he’d be back in another half an hour, but she wouldn’t hear of it. So I asked her to make sure you were okay—you were sleeping in your crib—and I went after Bryan.

  “When we got back, she was rocking you. You had wakened and were very fussy, so she had picked you up and was trying to comfort you. I took you, but that just seemed to upset Patience even more. She started crying so hard she couldn’t speak. She just turned for the door and walked out into the rain, and that was the last time we ever saw her. Malachi came that night and found her in the tunnels under the school and killed her.”

  A tear trickled down Wynn’s cheek, and a shuddering breath ripped from her throat. “Patience had a son about your age, Alayne—”

  “Daymon.”

  “You—you know him?”

  “He went to Basic School with me, and then transferred to Clayborne.”

  “He’s a jerk,” Jayme helpfully added.

  Alayne frowned at him.

  “We didn’t know.” Wynn glanced at Bryan. “He was only a year old when she died.” She reached in her pocket and pulled out a tissue, blowing her nose gently. “I’ll always blame myself for not forcing her to come back to our house.”

  “But then Malachi would have killed you, too,” Alayne protested.

  “Perhaps. And you. So I suppose it’s good that he didn’t find us that night.” Wynn twisted the elements and cleared her face of tears. “Skies, I haven’t done that in years.” Her voice shook. She coughed and continued. “Our danger wasn’t over. Malachi cornered Manderly Manders in his office. He was a young professor at the school in those days. Malachi wanted information from him, so he didn’t kill him outright. It turns out that Malachi had followed Patience that night, right up to our house, and then to the tunnels. When he failed to find the Vale on Patience, he started asking Manderly questions about us—your father and me.” Wynn’s face was pale as milk. “Malachi was sure that Patience had somehow dropped it with us. He worked himself up into a fine fury in Manderly’s office and probably would have killed Manderly, but Manderly escaped out a window and summoned a geyser from the river to lower himself to the ground. Malachi stormed out the door to come get answers from us, but Manderly went a back way and sprinted to our house, practically yanking us out of it. We ran on foot until we were long gone from Clayborne, and Manderly told us what had happened.

  “His advice was to go into hiding. Pretend to be Natural Humans, drop the Elemental title and start over. He mentioned a City Centre in the southeast of our continent that he had some familiarity with, and he suggested we start there. So we did.”

  “Here? In Skyden?”

  “Here in Skyden.” Wynn motioned toward the closed shades as if they could see outside. “But you wanted to know why we have to be so careful even in our own house. Manderly has people watching us, protecting us to some extent, but there are others, too, people that we think may work for Malachi. They sit in their airbuses or stand on the curb and stare at our house. They’re always there—have been since you were in diapers, Alayne. Even after Malachi went to prison, he had people on the outside that did his dirty deeds for him. He doesn’t know for sure that I was an Elemental; he came on the scene after I married your Dad and was no longer a student, and Manderly
hid my files after Patience was killed. But Malachi definitely suspects something. He’s not going to let the Vale go, and he knows that we were some of Patience’s last contacts before it disappeared.” She glanced at Bryan, who nodded.

  “You got it all, I think, Wynn.”

  Alayne could hardly think. The information overload whirled in her brain in massive circles, and she couldn’t keep it all straight. She shook her head. “I had no idea, Mom.” Her lips tightened. “Why didn’t you just tell me this years ago? I could have been prepared for—so much more.” Her voice clogged, and she blinked back the tears. Jayme’s thumb rubbed in soothing circles on the back of her hand. She shook herself. “So the fact that I’m going to Clayborne doesn’t tip Malachi off? Since Dad’s not an Elemental, my abilities would have to come through you, right?”

  Wynn shook her head. “As I’ve said, it’s not an inherited trait, Alayne. Sure, some families run with it for generations. But there are others that are born with Elemental traits that have no trace of Elementals in their family tree. So the fact that you are an Elemental doesn’t say much about whether or not your parents are. The only drawback is that Malachi now has leverage. He doesn’t need to capture one of us to hurt us. All he has to do is capture you to blackmail us into telling him where the Vale is.”

  “Which we don’t know,” Bryan tacked on.

  Alayne pushed herself to her feet. She glanced at Jayme. “We need to get back to school.”

  Alayne’s parents both stood. “Can you stay long enough for a quick breakfast tomorrow? Before classes?” Wynn asked tentatively. It was a peace offering.

  Alayne ignored it, not certain she wanted to forgive her mother. She still felt betrayed. “No, we’re pushing it to be back before curfew as it is.” She glanced around. “I’m not sure how to get the mirror to show up again, though.” No sooner had the words left her mouth than the mirror materialized, leaning against the wall of the living room, reflecting the four of them in its silver surface.

  Alayne approached it. “Show me my room at the dormitories,” she requested quietly. The worn carpet appeared, Marysa’s bedspread dragging the floor near the back of the scene.