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The camp was
stirring as they returned, disturbed from their night’s rest. Harl and Mama
Darvin met them anxiously, and pulled Anna immediately into a mix of hugs and
scoldings for not coming home for dinner. Brief explanations were given, and
a late tea was assembled in the sitting room. Jon thought of the rotting man
and was unsure he would ever have an appetite again.
Doctor
Blackfeather placed the battered black great sword back in the weapons case
and took a seat across from Jon. “Let me see your new ‘shield’ closer in the
light.”
Jon extended
his hand, palm up. “I don’t know how to put it down, sir. I keep trying.”
The Professor
sat nearby and leaned over Jon’s hand again, fascinated. “This is the
craftsmanship of the Ancients, certainly, and in perfect working order. It is
unlike anything we’ve found, though.”
“It seems to
have fused with you,” Doctor Blackfeather said. “Try willing it out.”
Jon tried,
uneasily. Nothing happened. “I don’t know how to work it.”
“It may only
work when you really need it to. With practice, you may learn to guide it
with your thoughts,” Doctor Blackfeather said.
“But I can’t
keep it!” Jon said. “Not in my hand. This is a priceless artifact, isn’t
it? You just said it was work of the Ancients, and unlike anything you’ve
seen.”
The Professor
looked thoughtful. “I can’t think of a worthier bearer for it. If it chose
you, then I cannot argue with its choice.”
Doctor
Blackfeather met Jon’s eyes. “You will have to keep it a secret. And it may
attract unwanted attention. This will be both a gift and a responsibility for
you to bear.”
“The rotting
man knew I had it,” Jon said, worried.
“Then we will
protect you,” Doctor Blackfeather said gravely. “Regardless, you will be safe
from that particular danger in Shandor. There are borders that it
can’t cross.”
“But sir, I
want to be an archeologist. I want to see places, and find things.”
“I think you
have a gift for that,” Doctor Blackfeather said. “If you do not object, I
would be honored to have you and your brother stay under my care and
protection next summer. You have a gift for languages, for mysteries, for
seeing, that would be a great asset to us, here and wherever we dig next.”
“Do you mean
it, sir?” Jon could feel a wide smile on his face.
“He’s willing
to face ancient evils, endure heat and dust and tomb thieves for a chance to
dig up pot shards and old letters.” Hellin smiled. “He must be one of us.”

Tam sighed.
“Well, you know I can’t let you do all that without me looking after you. I
promised Ma I would. Though how I’m going to explain about the thing you got
stuck in your hand, I don’t know. I’ve been scared half to death all night.
Is this really what you want, Jon?”
Jon nodded,
looking from his brother to Djaren and Ellea. “I like it here. With you.”
Kara, caught
trying to pocket a crystal brandy decanter, snorted. “Weird happy family.
Good for you. I’m leaving.”
Hellin took the
decanter from her, patiently. “I don’t like thinking of you out there with no
one to look after you.”
“You’re the
people the walking dead are after,” Kara said. “I’m safer by myself, thank
you.”
“But what he
said,” Djaren objected.
Kara shot him a
warning look. “I don’t need your band of freaks to call attention to me. I
have a life.”
Doctor
Blackfeather looked at Kara. She looked back suspiciously.
“I would like
to buy a watch from you,” he said.
Kara frowned.
Hellin reached
into a vase near her elbow and drew out a bag of coins. “And the statuette in
your sleeve please. I’m rather fond of that one, and you’d never get a fair
price for it in town.”
Kara glanced
from one of the Blackfeathers to the other, and emptied her pockets,
grumbling. The contents were rather amazing, and included the Professor’s
pocket watch, Tam’s bag of coins, a silver-edged bookmark of Jon’s, a comb of
Anna’s, and a bracelet Jon had seen a while ago on Ellea.
“Keep the
bracelet,” Ellea said. “I dropped it for you, because you’d lost yours.”
“Did not,” Kara
grumbled, pocketing the bracelet again.
Hellin handed
Kara the bag of coins, and Kara glanced into it, surprised. “What kind of
trick is this?”
“My bad habit
of mothering,” Hellin said, handing Kara a clean handkerchief and a hairbrush
from a nearby table. “Do stay for dinner.”
Kara gave
Hellin a confused and dubious look. Djaren grinned, trying not to laugh.
“Shut up,” Kara
told him.
“You may keep
the dagger too,” Doctor Blackfeather told her softly, on the way to dinner.
“You choose a dangerous path. If you need help, my family owes you a debt.”
Jon grabbed
Kara’s hand and squeezed it. “Thank you for helping us.”
Kara shook him
off. “Don’t get that thing on me.” Her look said something nicer than her
words, and Jon smiled, answering that.
©2007 Ruth Lampi |