Egan and the kids approached Eagleview Kingdom carefully, quietly. The day was coming to an end, and though he didn’t want to get caught out past curfew, he was cautious, slow in his approach. When his daughter, Bree, had left the city, she’d been chased out by the head sorcerer, Zahn. Now, with two kids in tow, he needed to be extra careful. Never before had he taken such care in the treatment of children, but now things had changed. He had changed.
They skirted around the city through the grassy fields that surrounded the exterior markets. Off to one side, he recognized the place where Eagleview deposited its garbage. Children lived in those fields, and even though staying out late was against the law, he still saw several bobbing heads as they scavenged for food.
For the first time in his life, it mattered to him.
Finally, as the sun sunk down toward the horizon, he turned to Regan and Brennen. “We’re going to have to run for it. We’ll start in the outer market and then sneak across the road to my mother’s flat. You ready?”
The children looked up at him, and while it was obvious that both of them were tired, Brennen still wore an expression of excitement on his face.
Regan, however, looked worried. “I’m not sure now, seeing this place, if we should enter.”
Egan, a changed man from his experiences traveling through the Wild Lands, had gone through very little compared to Regan. She had died right there in front of him, then surprised them all when she was reborn in the fountain of Light that stood beneath the great horse Keeper’s feet. Since then, she’d positively floated across the terrain, so quiet that her footsteps made no sound.
Egan knew she had magic now, and a lot of it, but this fact didn’t change his plan. He would deal with the issue of illegal magic tomorrow. Tonight, they needed shelter.
“It’s the only chance we have,” he said, looking over their heads at the city beyond. The markets were closing now, and he was eager to slip in beneath his tent and draw the hangings shut. He turned, then, and looked over his shoulder. “We can’t go back.”
Brennen, sunburned and dirty from his travels, was bouncing up and down, waiting to get moving again. “No, I don’t want to go back. Regan, we have to stay.” He peered behind her at the city. “I’m so hungry.”
This was true; it had been weeks since they’d had a proper meal, possibly much longer than that if one were to count the years he and Regan spent among the Lifters. Lifters, a wicked bunch who only cared about Light and their own thievery, had abused both him and Regan their entire lives.
They were away from them now, but Regan remained concerned.
“I suspect things will not be as you left them,” she said. She was looking around, growing fretful, as if a giant beast was on their trail.
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Egan stepped in front of her and bent slightly, looking her in the eye. “We can’t stay out here forever,” he said. “We have to go home at some point.”
She turned away from him and looked back at the city. “This is not our home, but yours.”
He placed his hands on each of their shoulders. “This is home for all of us now, new for you, new for me. I don’t know how I’m going to survive without peddling Light to the lawmen, but I still have to go.”
The look she gave him then was so forlorn that he worried she might begin weeping right then and there.
“We will be okay,” he said.
Brennen took her hand. He was a kid still, and Regan a young woman, but he knew more than most boys his age. “Look at it this way,” he said to her. “At least there’s no Lifters here.”
Her gaze shifted to his face, and this time a tear fell from her eye. She nodded, squeezing his hand.
Egan went first, holding Brennen’s other hand, crouching down as they began to run through the field. Though Egan knew they were going to make it before curfew, he still had a twist in his stomach.
It didn’t take them long to make it to the market, but when Egan took them to the place he’d spent years selling Light, he found it was now occupied by another.
“Who are you?” he asked, confused. “This is my stall.”
A young man with dark skin looked up from where he was lying on the small cot at the back. Egan recognized the boy; Kenneth was his name, the only son of the greedy produce seller, Maddock.
Kenneth quickly got up and walked up to them.
“You’re Bree’s family, aren’t you?” he asked. “Is she okay? Did she—is she—alive?” He looked like the question pained him, and he winced as he waited for the answer.
“She was when I left her,” Egan said. “Why are you in my stall?”
Kenneth shrugged. “My father. He took over this spot when you left, and now it’s my job to protect it each night.”
Egan scowled; he’d always known Maddock to be a greedy bastard, but this was a new low.
He turned to the kids. “I guess we should move on, then. We’ll figure this out tomorrow. There’s still daylight; let’s make a run for it while we can.” They turned to go.
“Wait!” Kenneth said. “When is she coming back? When is she—”
“I don’t know when, kid,” Egan said.
Kenneth’s face fell.
“Sorry.” Egan went to the edge of the tent and peeked out; there were no lawmen in sight. Not yet. “Come on,” he said, taking Brennen’s hand again. Together, the three of them shot out into the street, Egan leading the way. It was only a couple of minutes before they were standing at the flat his mother shared with Bree. He caught a glimpse of a lawman beginning to patrol the streets, looking for stragglers to harass for having broken curfew. He didn’t bother to knock, didn’t bother to think about what he was doing.
He pushed the rickety old door open, pulled the kids inside behind him, and closed it tightly. Then, they ran up the stairs and stood, breathing heavily, at the door to the flat.
It was open.
“Hello?” Egan called. “Ma?”
He pushed the door wide and stepped inside.
Outside, the sun sunk beneath the horizon. The flat was dark.
“Hello?” he tried again.
Nothing.
Where had she gone?
His stomach twisted again.
They were alone.
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