Elora sat back against the rail. “All those things you said earlier were true?”
Nat nodded. “We’ll moor up here for the night.”
Elora folded her arms and opened her mouth to protest, to demand that he explain himself right away, yet she knew that he would only speak when he was ready and wouldn’t be moved on the subject. She shut her mouth and stared into the water, her mind mulling over what had happened and what Nat had told her.
The first stars began to appear in the night sky and she watched their reflection on the water, wondering if there were indeed worlds beyond the world she could see and touch and which she thought she knew.
It was a peaceful night. The secluded stretch of canal was far from any roads and only an unused pathway ran along the bank which was overgrown with grass and reeds. Elora brought her uncle a cup of tea as he sat on his favourite sofa, reading his old diary by the amber glow of an antique oil lamp. The book was one Elora was forbidden to read, even though it was written in the old language she didn’t understand.
Noticing her, he put the book aside and took the tea gratefully, then patted the sofa beside him. Elora sat down, drawing her legs underneath her as she wrapped cold fingers around her own mug of tea.
As she gazed at the burning embers in the small wood burner, Elora wondered if Nat was going to tell her more. Questions had been plaguing her since the freak wave earlier. The revelation that she was being hunted by people who wanted to use her for evil ends, or by others who simply wanted her dead, was hard enough to believe. Even harder to accept was that her mother was still alive and that she would never get to see her. She couldn’t get her head around it. What kind of mother would abandon her own daughter and promise to kill her if she ever returned? And her father - what kind of man was he, that people even feared his daughter, people who’d never even met him?
She couldn’t wait any longer. She wanted to know. Needed to know. Somehow Nat must have sensed her unease and chose that moment to speak.
“I’ve been writing in this,” he said, tapping his diary. “Ever since we left Aslania. It covers everything from the trek through the mountain-pass to the lake. From the crossing between the worlds to the journey through Europe, right up until this evening. Not every day, but every important event. I thought it would help me to explain things to you when the time came. I was going to read you a page each day, let it sink in slowly. Make it less of a shock than hearing it all in one go. But...”
“I mucked things up by singing yesterday,” Elora finished the sentence for him.
Nat nodded. “It’s not your fault. I should have told you when you were younger. Explained things so you could understand. But I didn’t. You’re not to blame.”
“You can explain things now.”
Nat nodded and placed his journal on her lap. She put her mug down and opened the old book. She smiled as she flicked through the old pages and marvelled at her uncle’s beautiful handwriting.
“I can’t read it, remember?” she said.
“You can now. I’m giving it to you,” he said with a loving smile.
“No, I can’t. I don’t understand it,” she said, tracing with her index finger the flowing swirls and symbols that were like no language she had ever seen.
Nat chuckled and leaned closer, shifting so he could point down to the book. “I’ll teach you. It’s not that hard to understand.”
“Oh really? Looks plenty hard to me.” She flicked through the pages until she came to the back where she saw a small ‘S’-like symbol within a circle. A phone number was beneath it. “What’s this?” she asked, seeing Nat frown.
“The Shadojak. He’s the person who helped us find refuge here.”
“A friend, then?” She was puzzled. Nat had few acquaintances and no close friends that he had ever mentioned.
Nat’s frown deepened. “No. Not a friend. Not somebody you’d ever want to meet, either.”
Elora was intrigued. “Why not? If he helped us, then surely he’s somebody we can trust?”
“You were only a small child then. He didn’t know who you were. If he had...” Nat slowly shook his head.
“He would have killed me?”
Nat nodded.
“So why keep his phone number?” she asked, tapping the book.
Nat took a sip of tea before answering. “In case you turned out to be ... different than you did.”
It was clear to Elora that he didn’t want to talk any more about this mysterious Shadojak character, yet her curiosity was stronger than ever. Maybe later.
“Are you some kind of wizard or something?” she asked light-heartedly, changing the subject in case he stopped talking again.
“No, not a wizard!” he snorted. “I’m simply a good elemental manipulator. All Minuans can do it on some kind of level.”
“Minuans?” Elora raised a questioning eyebrow. Nat had always called her his ‘little Minu’; it was a special pet name for her. She had never thought about what it meant.
“You’re a Minuan, as am I, and your mother, and our people of Aslania. We’re descendants of the Goddess Minu who lived on Thea some few thousand years ago.”
“Can they all do that thing you did with the water?”
“Probably not. It’s rare to be able to work the elements to that level. Most go through life without even trying to do it. Those that want to must be trained properly and it takes a lifetime of study to master.”
“Why wouldn’t they want to? I mean, it’s amazing. It’s ... magic.”
“Not magic. Only a greater understanding of the elements yet most people choose to follow the path of the Eversong.”
“Eversong?”
“What you were singing yesterday was a small part that makes up the Eversong. Now that is what you might call magic. It has great powers and Minuans are drawn towards that calling. It’s more of a religion going back to the time of the small gods.” Nat blinked and smiled. “But I’m racing ahead. We need to take this one step at a time.”
“But if you didn’t want me singing this Eversong, then why teach it to me in the first place?”
“I didn’t. The song is in your blood. And when it’s sung by a Minuan, it releases a power that can be felt by those sensitive to its tones and words. That’s why I got so angry with you when you sang it. It alerted people that there was a Minuan. Singing it twice would bring them closer.”
