Brian Rathbone: The Dawning of Power

"You're not giving away our greatest secret, are you?" Nora asked as she walked up behind Catrin and kissed her on the top of her head. "It's good to see you didn't get yourself into too much trouble. I had a hard time keeping Kenward from running off to save you." Kenward actually blushed.

"So what's this well-kept secret?" Catrin asked.

"Ah, the fish is off the hook now, Sis," Nora said with a wink at Miss Mariss.

"'Sis'?" Chase asked. "You two are sisters?"

"That is to say we were fathered by the same man," Miss Mariss said, "but sisters we are. I inherited the good sense to stay on land."

"And I got the good looks," Nora said. Kenward laughed, and she smacked him in the back of the head. "Fool boy."

The door opened again, and Brother Vaughn entered. "Many pardons for my tardiness. I saw the most fascinating variation of finch on my walk, and I simply had to find its nest."

"Please sit," Miss Mariss said, not completely out of her role as hostess, and she handed him a plate. As they ate, a silence fell over the hall, conducive to quiet introspection.

"There is something I don't understand," Osbourne's father, Johen, said. "What is this 'blood scourge'? Does anyone know? Will it really poison the crops?"

"I have a theory," Brother Vaughn said. "In the great shallows, far from here, we passed an enormous mountain. It exploded from within and sent a cloud of fire and ash high into the sky. This was also the source of the giant wave that assaulted your harbor, the Falcon Isles, and other places in the world. The red snow had the same smell I remember from the shallows, just before the mountain exploded."

"But how could something so far away cause red snow here?"

"Just as the oceans carried the great wave," Brother Vaughn said. "The winds must have carried some of the fouled air here. I don't think there'll be any long-term effects, save perhaps fear."

Johen looked doubtful, but Catrin felt a great relief. The red snow was a frightening anomaly, and it made her feel better to have a more practical explanation.

Looking at her father, she marveled at his strength. His hair had gone gray, and he walked with a limp, but his eyes still held the same steely strength. Even when he smiled at her, his face at its softest, there was strength of conviction.

Benjin looked older too-all of them did-but his relationship with Fasha seemed to be bringing out a much younger personality. Catrin watched them as they laughed; there was excitement in their eyes as they discussed plans for the future. Catrin lacked their enthusiasm; ahead she saw a long and difficult road, and she wasn't certain she would ever be truly happy again.

Peace had not been made, and she doubted her attack on Master Edling would endear her to those who already considered her the enemy. Despite having forgiven Kyrien for pulling her away, she had a burning in her stomach, and she knew it could only be quelled by resolving her anger toward Baker Hollis. He had said he could explain, but there was no explanation that could be sufficient; no circumstances could have warranted such a cowardly act. If he'd had his way, Catrin, too, would be dead. Trying to recall the image of her mother and aunt became frustrating, as all she could form was a vague and gauzy image. Memory was fading, and she could no longer picture their faces in her mind.

"I have men looking for Baker Hollis," her father had said, but it came as a shock when a man arrived with an urgent message. "Catrin, Jensen, Benjin, Chase," Wendel said, his voice a harsh baritone that sounded only barely in control. "Come with me." All conversation stopped, and anxiety poured from everyone in the room. Catrin urged Benjin forward, wanting to escape the confined emotion. Her father led them to one of the buildings not built from a greatoak, made instead of pine with a thatch roof. Reddish water dripped onto the dirt floor as the snow inexorably melted. On a crate, with his hands tied, sat Baker Hollis. A well-muscled guard stood behind him, alert and seemingly ready for any threat.

"Untie him," Wendel growled. Baker Hollis rubbed his wrists and began to cry. Everyone who was crowded into the small room had reason to want him dead. By the look of him, trembling and crying, he seemed poignantly aware.

Chase stood with his hands balled into fists, and Catrin had never seen Uncle Jensen so enraged. The pain that radiated from them was nauseating, and Catrin nearly fled, but she had to know. If she did not witness this, no matter how painful, she would never forgive herself.

"Why?" her father demanded.

"I'm so sorry," Baker Hollis said. "I didn't know it would kill them. They made me do it."

"Who?"

"The Greatlanders," Baker Hollis said.

"How did they make you?"

"They took my little Trinda. What those monsters did to her, I'll never know, but she's never been the same. I should have killed her, freed her from the horrors, and let them kill me, but I couldn't do it. It wouldn't have saved Willa and Elsa, even if I had. The Greatlanders would've found another way. Please forgive me."

Wendel stood, hovering over Baker Hollis, seemingly on the verge of exploding, but then he seemed to deflate. "The people responsible still hide in the Greatland?" he asked in a voice just above a whisper.

Catrin thought it the most frightening voice she'd ever heard. "The person responsible is dead," she said, only then releasing her anger. She had been ready to rip Baker Hollis to pieces, but now she could find no target for her fury. She remembered the look that haunted Trinda's eyes; she remembered the pain she had plainly seen for so many years. How could she blame Baker Hollis for wanting to protect his daughter? "Arbuckle Kyte ordered their deaths, and mine, but now he's dead. It's over. There's nothing more we can do."

Uncle Jensen wheeled in frustration and kicked the door, which fell before his fury.

Chase bent down and looked Baker Hollis in the eye. "If you ever endanger my family again, I'll hunt down you, your daughter, and everyone you ever loved. If you get threatened into hurting us again, I suggest you come to me first."

Baker Hollis nodded, sweat dripping from his nose.

Chase followed his father into the night, also venting his rage on what remained of the door.

Benjin left Catrin and Wendel alone with Baker Hollis. Catrin sat in silence, trying to reconcile her feelings; her father seemed frozen in time. "I'm sorry about Trinda," Catrin finally said, and Baker Hollis looked up in surprise. Confusion radiated from him, as if he suspected a trap. "I'm sorry about her pain and yours. I'll never get my mother or my aunt back, and you'll never be able to fix what happened to Trinda. For those things, I am truly sorry. I don't like you, and I'm still angry, but I won't kill you." Her words fell like rolling thunder, and there was finality in them.

"Release him," Wendel said, and he turned to leave. Catrin followed him and rushed to catch up when she saw his shoulders begin to shake. For a moment he allowed himself to cry, to once again mourn the loss of his true love, but then he drew a deep breath. "You're stronger than I," he said without looking up. "I couldn't be more proud of you, Catrin. You've grown to be the woman I always knew you could be."

"I draw my strength from you."

"I would've killed him if it weren't for you," Wendel said, still staring at the ground. "I wanted so badly to hurt him, to make him feel my pain." Wendel raised his eyes to Catrin's. What she saw there was not weakness; it was vulnerability presented as a gift to one he knew would not hurt him.

"I love you, Daddy," she said, and he held her tightly as they cried.

"I love you too, my little Cat."

Warmer weather banished the blood scourge, and the memory began to fade. No longer did people instantly react in fear, and Catrin felt she was making progress at winning back her own people, but it still felt good to be out in the wilderness with only Chase and Prios, searching for the underground lake.