Aerenden: The Child Returns (Ærenden) by Kristen Taber

rolled down her cheek and around Nick’s thumb.
He brushed it away, and she covered his hand with one of hers, pressing her
face into his palm. “I realized it when you told me she was a Seer. She told
Dad to pack the backpack, didn’t she?”
    “Most
likely, but that doesn’t mean anything. She could’ve had that ready for years,
just in case.”
    “Maybe,
but I don’t think so. The morning she died, when she and I talked, she told me
to remember she loved me. I felt sorrow in her then. I thought the emotion was
mine, because it was right after you’d told me you were leaving, but it
wasn’t.” She withdrew his hand from her face. “Mom knew she was going to die, Nick.
She knew and she let it happen.”
    “You’re
certain?”
    Meaghan
nodded. “If you trusted her as a Seer, then you have to trust she kept you as
my Guardian for a reason.”
    Nick
turned his attention to the rain again. When Meaghan realized he was
considering her words, she continued. “You’re right. Mom wouldn’t have put me
in danger, so I know I’m safe with you. I can’t say what her reasons were, but
I think we’ll find out in time. At least, we will if you don’t give up on me.”
    “All
right,” he agreed and returned his eyes to hers. “But if you change your mind
when we get to my village, I’ll understand.”
    “I
won’t.” She reached up to give him another hug, and then stepped back. Her foot
sank into a puddle, soaking her sneaker and her jeans. She jumped away from it,
regretting the movement as soon as her ankle buckled with pain, refusing to
support her weight. Nick looped an arm around her waist to keep her from
falling backward.
    “We’re
flooding,” he said, turning her so she could see the stream flowing into the
cave. It pooled in the center of the floor then flowed back out, exiting the
opposite side of the cave from where it entered. “There must be a groove in the
floor causing it to do that. I imagine it will spread soon, which means we need
to start traveling before the rain eases.”
    He
grabbed the blanket from the floor, stuffing it inside the backpack before
handing the bag to Meaghan. She clutched it at her side, but remained rooted to
her spot as she watched the stream. The water gurgled when it hit small pebbles
in its path, creating a soft melody and triggering a memory in her mind. She frowned
and dropped the backpack.
    Nick
rescued the bag from the floor before the water claimed it. “Are you okay?” he
asked.
    “Yes.”
She grabbed onto his arm. “Nick, it’s not natural.”
    “What
isn’t?” He raised a hand to her shoulder. “Meg, are you sure you’re okay?”
    “The
stream.” She pointed toward it. “It’s not natural. It’s magical. It’s flowing
uphill.”
    He
stared from her face to the stream and back again. “The Guide,” he realized. A
smile spread across his face. “He’s controlling it.”
    “I
believe so.  And I remember now what he sang in the forest. He told me we
had to follow the water.” She watched the river bend, beckoning to them.
“Nick,” she said. “The water is leading us up the mountain.”

CHAPTER TEN
    T HEY FOLLOWED the stream for several miles. It deviated from the mountain path at times,
detouring up steep slopes and across jagged terrain, wandering under bushes and
behind boulders. Nick supported Meaghan when he could, and tested off-trail
paths ahead of her when he could not. In silence, he pushed them forward.
    As
rain pelted harder on their heads, the river swelled, stirring red silt with
mud. The resulting orange flowed down the gray mountainside, reminding Nick of
rust on steel. He enjoyed the beauty of the scene for a moment, but his joy soon
disappeared when the river took a path he knew Meaghan could not manage. He
refused to follow and familiar clouds gathered in her eyes.
    “We
need to,” she insisted. She sat down on a boulder beside the path and crossed
her arms over her chest. “Going up that hill is the only way we