Obsidian by Lindsey Scholl

Author:Lindsey Scholl [Scholl, Lindsey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Young Adult Fantasy
Publisher: eLectio Publishing
Published: 2013-09-19T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The three women were exhausted. Poor Ester was almost incoherent with grief and worry. She kept whimpering to herself, “It’s because I can’t see. If only I could have seen where he went. . .” N’vonne and Alisha had tried to comfort her several times on that score, but she would not listen and soon, they were too tired to try.

Nightfall had not deterred their efforts, but as the hours dragged by, their despair of finding Trint became acute.

They had stopped to rest in an alley. Ester had become very still in her grief, while Alisha was doubled over, rocking back and forth.

“How could I let him go?” She muttered. “I have lost two sons. I cannot be trusted with sons. I have lost them both.”

She was repeating this refrain over and over, when Ester suddenly raised her hand.

“Shh! Alisha, do you hear that?”

She jumped to her feet and ran down the alleyway, turning left, then right, not caring whether the two women were keeping up with her. When they caught her, she had stopped on another quiet street (so many of the side streets were deserted now), and was listening intently.

“It’s coming closer.” she whispered, her voice quivering with excitement.

The words had just escaped her mouth when a man rounded the corner with a small boy perched on his shoulders. They were both singing.

“Trint!” Alisha cried, startling both the boy and the man.

Trint waved as they rushed up to him. The man, meanwhile, recoiled as Alisha started pummeling him with her fists.

“Let him go, you monster! Drop him this instant or you’ll have me to deal with!”

But Ester tilted her head to where she thought Trint would be. “Trint, are you okay? Who are you with? He doesn’t sound like Gorvy.”

At the sound of her question, Alisha stopped her attack, stepped back, and studied her young charge. It certainly didn’t look as if he was being kidnapped.

Trint was beaming from ear to ear. “He’s my daddy.”

Ester frowned. “Trint, your father has been dead for almost four cycles.”

Trint shrugged, clamored down off of his father’s shoulders, and allowed Alisha to swallow him in a hug. “Still,” he responded, his voice muffled by Alisha’s dress, “he’s my daddy.”

N’vonne had watched the scene first with relief, then delight, then with amazement. She alone of all of them could suspect what had actually happened. She approached the man cautiously, as if approaching a cornered animal.

“Sir, are you this boy’s father?”

The man, a picture of health and energy, nodded enthusiastically. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen him but, oh, I’d know that boy anywhere. My name’s Wake.”

“Okay, Wake. How did you, uh, find Trint?”

The man scratched his head, then stooped to pick up his son again. “Hard to say. I was with Kynell and some others, then suddenly I was in this room. Dingy place—nothing Kynell would have done. There was a man. . .” His face darkened at the memory. “He was about to hurt my boy. I stopped him, of course, chained him up.

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