Standing Steady in the Storms Ch. 22

The third and final chapter for today^^ Some brief info on Kal and some Artham POV will ensue :)

A Bearer of Both Bad and Good News

She laughed a grating laugh. Gone was her charm from years before, when she had been one of Gnag’s Stonekeepers. “Oh, yes, Kalmar. I knew you would recognize me. Those who were once my children always seem to.” Her eyes turned hard and brittle. 

Kalmar’s mouth hung open in surprise. “But-but,” he sputtered. She kept smiling at him with that unnatural smile of sinister wickedness. “But you’re supposed to be dead!”

Amrah tossed her head in a girlish manner that was enough to remind Kal that she was indeed human, even though the last time he had seen her she had been a twisted thing, melded with a crab and a fish and who knew what else. “Young Kalmar, many things were supposed to be. Gnag was supposed to be the conquerer of the Green Hollows, he was supposed be the vanquisher of every spark of light in Aerwiar, he was supposed to be the rightful King of the Isle. He was supposed be my husband and make me his Queen.”

Kalmar’s eyes grew wide at this last utterance. Amrah cackled again. “Dear one, don’t look so surprised. We grew up together. He loved me. Why do you think he left me unmelded? Why do you think he privileged me with the most difficult jobs? Sweet talking children and re-Fanging beasts all day isn’t exactly my idea of simple.” 

Kalmar flinched a bit, remembering. “Oh, is that why you’ve captured me? So you can Fang me again? Well, I hate to break it to you, but it’s not going to work this time!” Even as he said it, he felt a tremor working its way into his words. 

Amrah glared at him. “Do you really think I would go to the trouble of capturing the High King of Anniera just to Fang him again? I’ve done it once and that annoying brother of yours undid my beautiful handiwork.”

Kalmar seethed inwardly. “Don’t talk about Janner like that,” he warned through gritted teeth.

Amrah cupped her head in her hand and looked at Kalmar with false endearment. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. You innocent thing. You’re actually defending the brother who told you to leave and never come back because his wife was on a boat that accidentally sailed into a storm? Does it really seem like you are at fault? He’s the Throne Warden. And didn’t he say he would never leave you, no matter what?” She let out a harsh snort of laughter. “He literally chased you away from him. Some Throne Warden he turned out to be.”

Kalmar looked away, desperately trying to push away the secret thoughts Amrah had voiced only seconds earlier. He didn’t want to think about them. He knew what anger could do to a person. He knew that Janner hadn’t really been thinking when he had said those words. 

But what if he had been? What if he had really meant them? The thought of it scared Kalmar, and he shivered.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Armah walk to the wall of the cell and back again in an effort to pace in what Kal guessed as a thoughtful manner. 

“I want some answers,” Kal demanded, putting up a brave and irritated front. It was the only way he knew to mask fear. 

Amrah smiled at him again. “My, my, the High King of Anniera wants some answers from me. How about over dinner?”

 Kal stared at her, confused. She laughed again, but this sounded more genuine. A little like bells. He had the strangest thought that if perhaps she had not grown up in the company of Ouster Will, Bonifer Squoon, and Gnag the Nameless, she might have been a charming woman with a husband, family, and garden. She had once been beautiful.

“Food?” He finally asked, knowing that Nia would not appreciate his indelicate response. 

Amrah walked out of the cell and gestured for him to follow her. “Food fit for a King, Kalmar. And I promise, it’s not rotten or drugged or poisoned. Killing you now would be a waste of my time, so I’ll save it for later.”

Kalmar had begun to follow, but stopped, looking up at her suspiciously. “How do I know this isn’t a bribe so you can get Annieran secrets?”

Amrah sighed, yet it was not a sigh of annoyance or frustration. “Kalmar, I don’t want any Annieran secrets. For that matter, I don’t even want Anniera. I did not want Gnag to destroy it in the first place. It was beautiful. I only wanted him to destroy the people. I wanted to live there with him and rule with him. I have no desire to rule if he cannot rule with me.”

Kalmar saw a brief flash of anger in her eyes, but it was gone in an instant. He almost felt as though he had imagined it. “Then what do you want?”

Amrah’s eyes glittered. “Come eat supper in the dining hall, and I’ll tell you.”

*****

“We’ll be back home soon, Janner,” Artham said softly. He glanced at his nephew who now lay on top of the bedcovers rather than underneath them. He was still skinnier than normal, but Artham had managed to get him to drink enough in the past few days to combat what could have been death by dehydration.

Janner was physically fine, but Artham could not even begin to work out the mess that had to be roiling inside of his nephew. 

He wondered what would happen if he simply asked Janner: “Where is Kalmar?” His own mind told him not to, though. Something terrible had happened. Maybe Kalmar was alive and maybe he wasn’t. Either way, Artham chose not to press him. He had waited ten years before telling his family what truly happened in the Deeps of Throg. Esben’s word of encouragement that Janner had relayed for him had been enough to push him into a confession. Surely he could wait longer than a few days before Janner told him the truth. 

Or maybe it can’t wait, Artham thought. If Kalmar is alive, there’s a good chance that time is of the essence in the matter. 

He rubbed his eyes in frustration and stood up. Janner glanced at him as he did so, and Artham counted it as a mental point of victory. Responsiveness was a good thing. It was better than the monosyllable answers or silence that he had been receiving when he asked a question during the past few days. 

“I’m going to fly ahead and let them know that we’re getting close,” Artham told him, smiling. “They’re expecting us to be gone for another few days. Arundelle will be happy about our early return.” 

Janner flinched and inadvertently wiped the smile off Artham’s face. He got down on one knee and took his nephew’s hand. “She’s alive, Janner, I’ve told you that over and over again. I promise you, Sara is not dead. She is waiting for you.” 

Janner shook his head at the words and pulled his hand away from Artham’s grip, turning to lay on his side so he could face the wall. 

Artham looked at his nephew and shook his head sadly, wondering whether even Sara’s very much alive form would convince Janner. “I’ll be back soon,” he promised as he left the room and shut the door behind him. 

He beat his wings and rose into the air. “Greston,” he called out.

“Aye, Artham, are you planning on letting them know we’re early and have precious cargo with us?” Greston grinned at him happily. 

Artham laughed a bit. “Yes, Greston. I will.” He flew off towards the Shining Isle, which was slowly growing bigger and bigger. “I have more to let them know than that,” he murmured under his breath, wondering what the family would think when they learned the search party had returned with only half of the missing persons.

*****

Artham landed in Castle Rysen’s courtyard a half hour later, and with a nod of greeting to the guards, he walked briskly through the more formal parts of the castle, the throne room, and ballroom (both small for their state, but large enough to serve the necessary purpose). He turned down a hallway that led into the more hospitable portions of the castle, the places where the family actually resided.

The kitchen and library were both down this way, and he assumed the two people he needed to speak to most were in these rooms. 

“Nia?” He called out as he approached the kitchen. When he received no response, Artham looked inside. But Nia was not there. Artham shrugged and headed for the library. Sara was bound to be there, and she was the first one who needed to know that Janner was alive.

Yet at the same time, he was hesitant to tell her. When he declared: "Janner is alive, not dead," she would be thrilled. There was a 'but' attached, though. It was what came after that Artham was slightly concerned about. What would she think when she learned that Janner was not exactly…mentally stable, in the most delicate sense? 

Despite his trepidation, Artham knew she would have to learn. “Sara,” he called as he stepped through the entrance. Every wall was lined with shelves and every shelf was crammed with books, but there was no Sara sitting on the sofa reading. 

Artham scratched his head. What is going on here? Why isn't anyone where they are supposed to be?

“Artham?” A gentle voice he knew so well spoke behind him, and Artham turned around to see Arundelle, a wonderstruck expression on her face. He smiled at her and she ran toward him into his arms. He swung her around in a joyous embrace, resisting the urge to lift her off the ground and into the air.

"Why are you back so soon?" Arundelle asked, a little laugh of joy in her words. 

“I—" Artham faltered. "I’m home again, my love,” he said simply. 

“But I don’t understand why,” Arundelle looked at him, puzzled. “I’m delighted to have you back early, of course, but why not stay the extra few days? You could have made more progress.”

Artham sighed. “Let’s sit down for this, alright?” 

Arundelle nodded, her brow furrowed in confusion and concern. She sat down softly and Atham followed her, landing on the sofa a bit more heavily than Nia would have appreciated. 

“We came back early because we were somewhat successful, but not exactly,” Artham began slowly, choosing his words carefully. Apparently he hadn’t, based on the horrified look on Arundelle’s face.

“They’re not dead, are they?” She whispered fiercely. 

Artham held his hands up. “Calm down. They’re not dead. At least, Janner’s not dead. I’m not so certain about Kalmar.”

Arundelle’s brow twisted in confusion. “Artham, what do you mean? How could you find one and not the other? Why didn’t you keep looking for Kalmar?”

Artham rubbed his face, trying to decide how to explain everything to his wife. He knew words, he understood them, but the deepest knowledge inside of him, the knowledge that was in his blood that tied him and every Throne Warden before and and after him together was one that was more difficult to explain. “This might take a little while,” he said, a hint of sadness in his voice. He glanced at Arundelle, and she nodded at him encouragingly.

“When I found Janner," Artham began. "He was laying in a raft out in the middle of the sea, no land in sight. He was half-dead from dehydration. The past few days, he’s been almost entirely non-responsive, even when he’s awake. He’s spoken more when he has been asleep than any other time. Arundelle, he’s trapped in his mind. Something happened to Kalmar, and it’s not something that Janner is proud of. The way that he has been acting since I brought him back to the ship—” he hesitated, but Arundelle urged him onward. “I think he may have failed in his duties as a Throne Warden.”

Arundelle looked at him as if she halfway understood what he meant but did not fully understand it. “Did he tell you this?”

“No. But the way he just is,” Artham paused again. “Arundelle, I know this! I remember this. I know this like no other person in all of Aerwiar. I failed, too. I admit that I failed. No, don’t try and object. I did and I have long since come to terms with it. Maybe this was the reason I failed, Arundelle. So I can help him.”

Arundelle stared at him, utterly confused. “Artham, I’m sorry. I just don’t understand it. I don’t understand what happened or, or anything, really. Maybe if you tell me again—”

Artham’s eyes softened and he leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “Love, I don’t think you want it explained. If I were to truly tell you every single thing about it, it would horrify you.” Arundelle nodded. “But the ship will be docking within the next hour, and I promised Janner I would be back before then. There’s one other person who needs to know even more so than the others that he is alive.”

“Sara,” Arundelle said with a hint of something that Artham did not recognize in her voice.

Artham looked at her with concern. “Did something happen? Oh, Maker, if something happened to her—”

“Relax, Artham,” Arundelle said, speaking to him in much the same way as he had spoken to her minutes earlier. “Sara is fine. Actually, she’s more than fine. Why don’t you come see for yourself?”

Arundelle smiled and got up wordlessly, heading for stairs that led to the second story. Artham followed her. Now he was the confused one. 

They climbed the flight of stairs and headed for one of Rysen’s many bedrooms — Sara and Janner’s. Arundelle knocked softly and waited until she heard a quiet, “Come in,” before pushing open the door and stepping inside.

Artham followed her and found himself looking into Nia, Leeli, and Sara’s surprised but happy faces. Leeli jumped up from the armchair where she had been sitting  and ran over to hug him. Artham patted her on the back but didn’t pay much attention. What he did pay attention to were the two, small white bundles before his eyes, one in Nia’s arms and the other in Sara’s. 

“You had twins?” he breathed, still stunned.

 Sara laughed merrily, her eyes twinkling. Then her gaze softened into one filled with bittersweetness. “Janner asked for them,” she said softly. “I wanted a boy and he wanted a girl. The Maker gave us what we both wanted.”

From where he stood, Atham could see her lips trembling as if she were about to start crying. Nia leaned over to comfort her.

Artham had planned to give specific instructions and recommendations, but he couldn’t bear the thought of his Sara being upset for any longer. “Sara, Janner isn’t dead!” he blurted out, getting looks of surprise from everyone in the room. They all stared at him in disbelief. “He’s just an hour or so away. I came early to tell everyone, especially you, Sara, and then I was going to fly back and dock with them.”

“Them?” Nia asked expectantly, a note of hope in her voice. “Do you mean Janner and Kalmar?”

Artham saw the light in her eyes and hated that he had to be the one to tell them. “No. Only Janner. I don’t know where Kalmar is. Maybe Janner knows, maybe he doesn’t. What I do know is that something went dreadfully wrong.” He sighed and looked at everyone in the room. Their joy was tainted, now, and he wished he was not the bearer of bad news, even though it was accompanied by some that was good. “Sara, I need to speak with you alone,” he said quietly. 

Nia and Leeli both glanced at each other and then him in surprise. “Please,” he added. 

Arudelle beckoned them toward her. They must have sensed the urgency in his voice, because Nia handed the baby back to Sara and left the room with Leeli following. They shut the door behind them, leaving Artham, Sara, and the twins alone in the room. She placed one of the babies in a cradle beside the bed and held the other, who had started fussing.

“Artham, what’s wrong?” Sara asked, worry evident on her face.

He paused, not wanting to alarm her with such a dramatic hesitation but also wanting to convey what had happened with the right words. “Sara, he’s not the same as he was when he disappeared.”

The look of confusion in Sara’s eyes deepened, and Artham sighed. “I’ll just tell you what I know,” he began.

Notes: Not a terrible cliffhanger note to end on, I'd say! I don't actually remember when you'll learn what actually happened to Amrah...wait, no! I think it's the next chapter :DD

Thank you for reading and commenting! I love them :DDD

Oh, and the clamoring and pleading is extremely motivational, LOL