Duality by Rowan Erlking (classic books for 13 year olds txt) 📕

“You said you and your sister are leaving Yapan,” the deputy said, peering at him. “Where will you go?”

Sighing, Bernum replied, “Back to Yolund.”

Beyan rushed forward. “But you just said—”

“I know.” Bernum didn’t want to stand there any longer. This was wasting time, and he wanted to get back home as soon as possible so he and Malkia could hurry on. “But she’ll be safest in Yolund. I can protect her at the magic school—even if Jonori police come looking for her.”

The deputy frowned then looked down and nodded. “All right. Fine. We will make sure no one messes with your father or Dennik.”

Bernum lifted his head again. It was the second time someone called Dennik by name. When he was a kid and during all his home visits his brother had always been referred to as the ‘crippled kid’ or the ‘deformed one’—the kinds ones did at least. The others had called him ‘demon’.

“How has Dennik been doing since I was last here?” Bernum watched both men’s responses.

Both Beyan and the deputy merely blinked as if it should not have been a wonder to Bernum. The deputy said, “Quite well. He’s as competent a pharmacist as your father. Better, rather. He seems to have the magic touch with medicines. Nearly cured my father’s gout in two treatments.”

Bernum blinked. Of course he knew Dennik was skilled with herbs and had even applied the healing spells he had passed along during holidays to the herbs they were selling in the shop, but it was how casual and accepting the two men were that amazed him. So, testing them still, Bernum said, “Really. Well, that’s good. I was beginning to wonder if the shop was suffering because my father had been ill for so long—with only Dennik to tend to the customers.”

A slight flush of red touched Beyan’s cheeks though the deputy still just blinked at him. In fact, Deputy Henak leaned forward and said, “I don’t see why. Dennik still can handle coins and all that. He may not have gone to school, but that kid is smart.”

That was enough.

“Good.” Bernum smiled then nodded to Beyan. He turned toward the door. “Very good. Well, then. I need to hurry home. Malkia will be getting impatient for us to start on the road again.”

The men watched him go out, Beyan almost waiting for Bernum to leave so he could speak with the deputy privately.

Bernum rushed home as if he could still feel the Jonori police on his back. He jogged into the house, up the back steps, gave a quick salutation to the housekeeper then rushed up the stairs to his father’s room where he hoped to find his family gathered. They weren’t there. And though his heart jumped with a ripple of panic, Bernum hurried next to Malkia’s room. As expected, both Dennik and his father were standing around his sister as she hastily packed up the remainder of her belongings so she could be on her way to Yolund. Their protests for her to calm down and slow down were no match for her tearful retorts with hugs that she had to hurry for their sakes.

“They could come any minute,” Malkia said, stuffing her winter robe into her bag next.

“But the hate ward you two put around the house ought to keep any one dangerous out,” her father said. “There is no need for you to go rushing off like this, especially after all this time. Bernum, tell her she needs stop. Tell her she’s safe here.”

But Bernum shook his head, striding to his father’s side and setting an arm around the pharmacist’s bent shoulders. “I’m sorry, Dad. But we have to go. You’re not safe if we stay here. That’s the trouble.”

The pharmacist’s wet eyes blinked at his son with despair. “But I…it has been so long since we’ve been together and…confound it! I ache whenever you go away. We have been apart long enough. Haven’t you learned enough magic?”

“This isn’t about that,” Bernum said.

But Dennik squared his jaw with a look to his father and said, “I’m fine without a cure. You don’t have to look anymore. If you need to make a stand, make it here. Dad and I both agree—we don’t want you to leave.”

Bernum and Malkia looked at their little brother, both of them blinking in surprise. Malkia was the first to reach out to him, wrapping her arms around her little brother.

“This isn’t even about that.” But she started to cry.

Bernum put his arms around his brother also, holding his sister as well. “This is about keeping you two out of the trouble we caused in Jonori.”

Dennik frowned, pushing back a little. “But why can’t you make your stand here?”

“Because, we are dealing with people who would see you as a demon,” Bernum said.

Malkia let go, nodding. “And they would kill you if they thought we were working with another demon.”

“With another?” their father repeated. He pulled back to eye his children. “What have you been doing in Jonori? Bernum, you were just supposed to fetch Malkia. What is this about demons?”

The twins shared a look. Malkia sat on her bed and Bernum shifted on his feet, gesturing for Dennik to sit down and rest his foot as the story he had to tell would be long. When his brother refused, stuffing his arms across his chest in a tight fold, Bernum sighed and went into his explanation, starting with the cabinet in Mr. Omoni’s study to its owner then to the circus performers’ problem. Malkia interjected a number of times, making claim to all the things she had done as if to take the blame off Bernum’s shoulders. Their father looked from brother to sister, his lips tightening and loosening as if he would say something—but he never did. Dennik exclaimed at all the right parts, which was good and yet somewhat discomforting—as they realized they had to hurry before any news of the death of Omoni reached Yapan. They didn’t bother mentioning the deal they had made with the wizard.

“So,” their father asked at last, “where is this northern demon now? That ghost demon has been in the news for the past two months—just about killing those that come in contact with him.”

“Just about killing,” Bernum repeated, pointing that out. “He could have drained them of everything entirely.”

But the pharmacist still frowned, eying Malkia mostly. “Yes, you said that. But the fact is that he was a—”

“He gave us these.” Malkia pulled out one of the scrolls Jonis had given them from the pack she had been stuffing. “And he mentioned collaborating on a magic book with him.”

The Pharmacist grumbled, looking towards the window as if guarding against the demon following them home.

“He is one of the foremost magisters in Brein Amon, Dad,” Bernum added, though he was peeking out the window now, but for other reasons. He then gestured for Malkia to get up so they could hurry. “The point is—he made it so I could get Malkia out safely.”

“And he’s not wantonly killing,” Malkia added.

Raising his hands up in surrender, their father said, “Fine! Fine. I give up. You both obviously have strong feelings about this…demon…man, whatever. Just…I don’t want you damaging your futures any further—especially it forces you to leave us.”

Both Bernum and Malkia shared another look. Malkia lowered her head and Bernum cleared his throat with an awkward rocking on his feet. He said, “Someday we’d have to leave anyway.”

The Pharmacist’s face went a little pale, the corners of his mouth turning down. He averted his eyes to the floor. “You weren’t planning on coming back to Yapan?”

They shared another look. Both had been out in the world. Malkia still thought of going to Northborder for her own self-imposed internship, while Bernum was eager to get back to Yolund and the society of magicians there. Neither of them wanted to admit it, but they had both outgrown small town Yapan and its quiet ways. In fact, in absolute center of their hearts, they really wanted to work on that magic book with Jonis.

Malkia tried to say something, but her mouth stuck halfway open without anything coming out. Bernum pressed his lips together, thinking of the best way to phrase his honest feelings on the subject. As a pair they were as much alike as ever in their mutual apprehension, so much that Dennik exhaled aloud and interpreted the mood for their father. “They’re magicians now, Dad. Not pharmacists.”

“Magisters, really,” Bernum mumbled. He then looked to the window. Somewhere outside he heard the bell to the shop ring.

“I’ll get that,” Dennik said, lifting a hand for all three of them to stay where they were. He hopped out the door, his club foot limping with strength rather than with weary soreness. Apparently it had not slowed him any, even after all those years.

Bernum swallowed with another look to his father then to the road outside through the window. “I…we can’t stay. We’ve—”

“We’ve grown up,” Malkia said, lifting her chin. She put Jonis’s scroll back into her pack.

Her brother frowned at her, not so pleased she had been so blunt.

But Malkia walked closer to her father, embracing him. “Dad, it is about time you let go. We’ll visit after this all blows over, of course—but it may never.”

Frowning, Bernum nodded. It was true. It was possible that the family of Omoni would persecute their family for a long time yet. There might even be a legal injunction taken out against them. The possibility that they would have to migrate from Maldos also seemed real. Most likely, if the brother and sister had to, they would move north to Brein Amon. At least there they would not have to give up the standard of living they were used to—though it would be colder.

Malkia closed up her bag. She nodded to Bernum. “I’m ready.”

Exhaling, Bernum nodded back. He then headed toward the door.

“Wait.” Their father’s eyes widened from the sad droop they had been holding while watching them. He stepped from the room, skipping steps towards his own chambers. Rushing inside the door just as Malkia and Bernum were heading into the hall, he hopped out again with a number of things in hand. One was a wood carving their mother had treasured. Another was a pair of blankets their mother had made when they were babies and had been named, and the last was a string of painted porcelain beads that Malkia was supposed to wear on her wedding day. He stuffed all of these into Malkia’s hands.

“Take these,” he said.

The Pharmacist then pulled off the dark wooden beads he was wearing and strung it over Bernum’s neck. Bernum flustered as he felt the round beads roll over his skin, settling around his neck.

“But…” Bernum watched his father wipe off the tear that had escaped his mostly controlled gathering of wetness in his eyes. “Why are you giving this to me? Dennik is going to inherit from you. Not me.”

“This goes from father to the eldest son,” the Pharmacist said, then patted Bernum on the shoulder. “Not father to heir—though I had hoped you would be my heir, at least in spirit. I never expected you would both leave me for always.”

“Nothing is for always,” Malkia retorted, reaching to his hand and kissing it. “We’ll return some day.”

But the Pharmacist just pulled them closer in, hugging his two grown children. “I will pray to the gods for that day.”

“And we will write,” Bernum said.

Malkia chuckled.

They turned to the stairwell.

Dennik climbed up the stairs again at that moment. He was going slower than before, as if weighing his feet carefully on each step. His eyes stared blankly in front of him, or rather at his opened hand, his fingers flexing with the palm up. He then looked to Bernum and Malkia with their father. Dennik’s eyes were brimming with tears. He hopped up the last step, looking ready to throw himself of them for the last hug. But when his other foot