Three: The Circus

Asbel was nine, Hubert was eight, and Asbel couldn't sit still because the circus had come to Lhant.

"I'm still not certain about this," his mother said, and Asbel barely managed to bite back a groan. He'd seen the brightly colored caravans roll through town from his bedroom window that morning, and though he'd never experienced the circus, just seeing the streamers and banners had been enough to set him off. He'd nearly dragged Hubert out of the manor, and the two had almost made it out of the garden before their parents had spotted them. "There are so many people gathered in town right now. What if something were to happen? Perhaps we should send Frederic or Bailey with them . . ."

"Mom, we don't need a babysitter!" Asbel tried to sound firm, but his voice came out sounding closer to a whine. "I'm nine years old! I can look out for myself!"

"It's not just yourself that you need to watch out for," his father said sternly, and Asbel couldn't resist an eye roll this time. "You also need to watch out for your brother."

"I know that," Asbel said, and petulance rang loud and clear in his voice. "I always watch out for Hubert." This much was true, and Asbel's mulish expression dared anyone to deny it. There were a lot of responsibilities he slacked on, and he would freely admit that. His desk was a mess, as was his portion of the laundry pile, and he rarely kept up with his studies. He put absolutely no effort in training to be a future lord, and though he'd promised Cheria three weeks ago that he'd help her fix her broken doll house, he had yet to do it. But he never, ever stopped looking out for his little brother, and he had no intention of starting now.

"I can look out for myself, too," Hubert muttered beside him. Asbel glanced over. "I'm eight. That's not that much younger than nine."

"Yeah, but I'm your big brother," Asbel said, and he reached over to pat Hubert on the back. "So, watching out for you is my job." Hubert looked like he wanted to contest this, but their father spoke up before he could.

"That's right, and it's a job that you must take very seriously, Asbel." Asbel huffed, about to say again that he very obviously took it seriously, when his father continued speaking. "Kerri, I believe the boys will be fine. We are in Lhant, after all, and they know better than to leave the city."

"Who would want to leave, anyway?" Asbel said, and he was already grinning ear-to-ear. Their father's word was usually law, so if he was saying they would be fine . . . "The circus is here, not out there."

"Exactly." His father actually smiled a little, and Asbel felt his heart soar. His mother frowned.

"Aston, are you certain? I still can't help but think . . ."

"So long as Asbel knows to look after Hubert, yes, I am." Asbel's father reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, the smile gone. "I'm serious, Asbel. Keep an eye on your brother at all times."

"I will, I will! I always do." Asbel shrugged his father's hand off, and then looked over at Hubert, grinning broadly. "Ready to go, Hubert? We're going to tear this circus up!"

"Tear it up?" Hubert seemed uncertain, and Asbel knew why; his over-anxious little brother was probably already thinking about the sheer destruction Asbel could cause (Asbel would proudly admit that he was a conqueror of kingdoms, giant among men, and destroyer of worlds), and about how much trouble they would get into because of it. Even so, Asbel knew that Hubert wouldn't decline a chance to go along, especially because Asbel himself would just drag Hubert there, anyway. Their parents, however, frowned.

"Asbel . . ." their father started, as Asbel started walking down the lane toward the main street, Hubert following along. "What do you mean, 'tear it up?' You better behave yourself, or—"

"C'mon, Hubert, time's wasting!" Just as Asbel's father began to scold him, Asbel took off running, sprinting down to the street and taking a sharp turn around the corner, toward the main part of town. Hubert's reflexes weren't the best yet, and so Asbel was sure that it took him a minute to catch on to what was happening, especially when he heard:

"A-Azzy! Big brother! Wait up!"

from behind him. Even so, Asbel wouldn't slow down—couldn't slow down.

After all, the circus had finally come to Lhant, and he wasn't going to miss a single second of it.

The circus was set up in the main square, with a variety of tents set up around the plaza. In truth, it was more of a carnival than a circus; there were monster tamers who worked with monsters kept in iron cages, but there wasn't a tight rope, or any large, central tent for shows to take place. Instead, smaller shows took place all around the plaza, with a variety of games and gimmicks to attract kids. At any rate, it certainly attracted Asbel, and even Hubert – who arrived a few seconds after his brother due to not being able to run as fast – looked upon the spectacle with awe and wonder. There was so much to behold that at first Asbel didn't know where to start, though he had a jingling allowance that was burning a hole in his pocket, and he spotted a few kids walking around with large tufts of cotton candy.

"Asbel! Hubert!"

"Aw, man," Asbel muttered, and he looked up to see Cheria Barnes running toward him, her pink hair tied back in a ponytail that bounced along her shoulders. As she neared, he could see that she was breathing with some difficulty, and her cheeks looked flushed even though she hadn't run that far at all.

Despite his less than enthusiastic reaction to seeing her, Asbel didn't dislike Cheria. Far from it, actually – she was his second best friend, after Hubert. No, it was more that every time they saw each other, they ended up arguing, usually because Asbel either didn't do something Cheria wanted him to do (though she rarely outright said what it was that she wanted him to do), or because he did do something that she didn't want him to do (same deal). Lately, she kept mentioning princess stories wherein the handsome prince would kiss the princess to bring her back from death or some such, and usually came down with a mysterious fever that caused her to faint soon after. After the third time this happened, Asbel had mentioned that perhaps she should stop talking about the stories if they kept making her sick, at which point she called him an idiot, said he was unbelievable, and stormed off.

They didn't speak for three whole days after that, though Asbel still couldn't figure out why she'd gotten mad at him in the first place.

In any case, she approached them now, and while Asbel felt as though his day had just gained a touch of annoyance, Hubert smiled brightly when he saw her.

"Hi, Cheria! Are you okay? You look a bit tired."

"N-No! I'm fine," Cheria insisted, though Asbel could hear the strain on her breathing in her voice. This fact only caused his frown to persist. She matched his frown with one of her own, placing her hands on her hips. "What's that look for, Asbel? I said I'm fine!"

"I know you did," Asbel retorted, a bit indignantly. "I didn't say anything about that. I was just wondering if you were actually talking to me now, or if you were still mad at me because you got sick over your princess stories." Cheria's cheeks got a bit darker, and she stomped her foot.

"I did not get sick over my princess stories, Asbel! That wasn't what happened at all!"

"You fainted every time you told me about one of them! They obviously made you sick, Cheria!"

"Did not! You're so unbelievable!"

"How am I—"

"Guys!" Both Asbel and Cheria looked over at Hubert, then, who was wringing his fingers in front of him—something he usually did whenever he got nervous. Asbel felt a guilty little flip in his stomach, then, wondering if Hubert had tried getting their attention before that, only for Asbel to not notice until he raised his voice. "How about we just not talk about the princess stories for now? We can still have fun at the circus without them."

"Yeah, that's true," Asbel said, nodding once. After all, Cheria and her princess story fevers were not the reason he'd gone to the circus, and he was determined to have a good time regardless of anything else. "Sound good to you, Cheria?" Cheria huffed, her lips still puffed out in a pout.

"Yes, of course it is! I never said anything about my princess stories until you brought them up, Asbel!" She turned around, her ponytail spinning around her, and Asbel made a face and soundlessly mocked her words. Hubert hid a giggle behind his fist. "Well, what are you waiting for? Let's go explore!"

"Yeah, yeah, we were already planning on it!" Asbel stuffed his hands into his sweatshirt pockets, but Cheria turned back around, her cheeks a little bit flushed again as she held out her hand toward him. He stared at it. "What?"

"Aren't you—we should hold hands!" Cheria's cheeks turned even darker, to the point where they almost matched her hair, and Asbel gave her a strange look. This just caused her to blush even more.

"What for? Do you think you'll get lost? And hey, are you sure you're feeling okay? Your face looks really red."

"I—I already said I'm fine!" Cheria's voice was shrill enough to attract attention at this point, and Asbel didn't quite manage to hold back a groan. "Why don't you ever understand what I'm saying? You're really unbelievable, Asbel!"

"If I'm so unbelievable, why do you keep hanging out with me?" he demanded, but Cheria only gave him a furious look before she turned and stomped off, heading farther into the carnival. Asbel had half a mind to just let her stomp off and work out her temper by herself, but the other half of him knew that he shouldn't. They'd already gone three days without speaking, and his father had already scolded him for making Cheria upset when her health was so frail. The last thing he needed was for her to pass out again or something. "Wait, Cheria! Ugh, come on, Hubert."

"Okay, big brother." Hubert sounded as disappointed about this as Asbel felt, and that only added fuel to Asbel's fire, causing him to start running into the ground. He could hear Hubert's footsteps behind him as he dodged around and pushed through the people, but fortunately, it didn't seem as though Cheria had gone very far. Her weakened constitution cost her, and she was standing near one of the small vendor's booths – a ring toss game, from the looks of it – one hand to her chest as she panted.

"Cheria!" Asbel didn't stop running until he reached her, and she looked up at him in surprise. "There you are. What didja go running off like that for? You're gonna pass out or something, you idiot." Cheria's surprise melted quickly into anger.

"Don't call . . . me an idiot . . . Asbel," she gasped, her small hands clenched into fists. "I ran . . . because you're . . ."

"Unbelievable?" he deadpanned. Her brown eyes flared.

"An unbelievable . . . jerk!" She reached out and pushed him, causing him to stumble, and Asbel considered it lucky that she was both sickly and a girl, or else he would have pushed her back.

"I am not! I just don't understand you, Cheria. What do you have to be mad about?"

"Everything!" Cheria began to cough, and Asbel felt guilt worm its way through him, especially as she started to choke when she tried to speak again. "I-I'm mad a-about ev-every-everything."

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" He meant it, too, as he watched how much trouble she had just breathing, let alone speaking. He still had no idea why she got so mad at him, but whatever the reason was, it wasn't important enough for her to seriously endanger her own health like that. "Just try to calm down. You can't have fun at the circus if you die, you know."

Some of the anger faded from Cheria's eyes and she nodded, working to calm her breathing down. Though he didn't know if it would really help or not, Asbel reached out and put a hand on her back, lightly patting her shoulder until some of the redness left her cheeks and her breathing returned to normal. Once it was easier for her to breathe, Cheria smiled at him, and Asbel gave her a small smile back.

"Thanks, Asbel," she said. "I'm sorry I got so mad." Asbel laughed.

"Don't worry about it. Happens all the time." Cheria pursed her lips, and Asbel – wondering if he was going to get in trouble for that, too – decided to change the subject quickly. "Anyway, let's start exploring the circus. I wanna see all of the cool monsters, and maybe play some of the games or something. And definitely get some of that cotton candy. How 'bout you, Hubert? What do you want to check out first?" Asbel turned to look at his little brother, but was met with nothing but empty space. "Huh? Hubert?"

"Where did he go?" Cheria asked, sounding confused and even a bit worried as she glanced around. Asbel spun on the spot, but his little brother wasn't anywhere by him, and a scan of the nearby area didn't reveal a tuft of blue hair or a green sweater, either.

"Hubert?" Asbel called, his heart starting to beat a bit faster with each second that passed without a sign of his brother. "Hubert? Little brother? Hey, where are you? Hubert!"

"Do you think he might have wandered off?" Cheria asked, and Asbel barely restrained from snapping that if he knew what Hubert had done or where he was, he wouldn't be calling for him. "Or maybe he got separated from you when you were running over here."

"He was right behind me," Asbel said, and he couldn't stop that from coming out as a bit of a snap. "I know he was, I heard him."

"But you were running through a lot of people, Asbel."

"I said he was right behind me!" Cheria flinched, and Asbel felt a bit bad, but he could barely spare the time to look at her as he scanned the crowd around him for his brother. No such luck. "Hubert! Hey, Hubert! Agh—excuse me! Excuse me, wait!" He reached out and grabbed the shirt of a passing woman, who looked down at him in surprise. He didn't recognize her – she certainly wasn't from Lhant – but . . . "Excuse me, have you seen a little boy with blue hair recently? He's wearing a green sweater, and—and he has blue eyes like mine, and he probably looked kinda scared." Because if he was separated from Asbel, then he was definitely scared. The woman seemed to think on it a moment before she shook her head, and Asbel's heart sank.

"No, I can't say that I have. Is he your friend?"

"He's my little brother," Asbel said, and he didn't know why he sounded or felt so defensive – he just did. The woman looked worried for just a moment before she smiled kindly.

"Well, maybe he's with your parents."

"My parents didn't come today. They stayed home." Even as he spoke the words, Asbel felt his stomach drop. His father had specifically reminded him to watch out for Hubert, and Asbel had brushed his words off because he always watched out for Hubert. But now Hubert was gone, and Asbel . . .

"Do you live here in Lhant, young man?"

"Yes."

"Well, then maybe he went home." The woman reached out and patted his head, and Asbel hated it – he hated how she was treating him like a child, hated how she acted like Hubert being missing wasn't a big deal, when it was. "You should probably check there before you do anything else."

"Okay. Thank you." Asbel's words weren't sincere at all, but the woman seemed to buy them anyway as she turned to continue her way through the crowd. When Asbel looked back to Cheria, he saw that worry was creasing her forehead, and her eyes looked uncertain.

"Are you going to check back your house first?"

"Of course not. Hubert wouldn't go home without me." Asbel was certain of this—absolutely positive. Hubert had wanted to go to the circus, too, and he'd never return home without telling Asbel first. Granted, he wouldn't just wander off without telling Asbel first, either, but . . . "Come on. He has to be close by. We just have to find him."

Finding him proved more difficult than Asbel hoped. Holding Cheria's hand so as not to lose her, too, Asbel darted through the crowd, his eyes peeled for any sign of his little brother, calling out just in case Hubert heard him before he saw him. Cheria, too, called out for him, and she seemed more inclined to stop people and ask if they'd seen him around; a few people pointed in the directions they thought they'd spotted him, but each person pointed in a different direction, and Asbel found himself more irritated and scared by the second.

Hubert was gone. He was just gone. There was no sign of him and Asbel had no idea what to do.

"Maybe we should go ask someone for help," Cheria said. By this point they were near West Lhant Road, standing by the apple tree, the circus all but forgotten behind them. "We can ask Grandpa, or some of the guards—"

"We don't need to ask anyone for help," Asbel said roughly, though this was more out of stubbornness than anything else. He clenched his fist. "Hubert is my little brother, and I can find him myself." Cheria bit her lip.

"But, Asbel, we've been looking for a really long time, and—"

"I don't care!" Asbel exploded, and once again Cheria flinched, but by this point Asbel was so upset that he didn't care, even if it wasn't her fault. "I'll look forever if I have to! Hubert's my little brother, and so I'm not gonna just give up!"

"I wasn't saying to give up!" Cheria cried, and her eyes looked oddly bright. Asbel couldn't help but glare at her, though he tried not to. It wasn't so much that he was glaring at her, anyway, as it was that he was just glaring and she just so happened to be in his line of sight. "I just . . . I just thought . . . I'm sorry."

He let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, though his heart was still beating like crazy. "It's okay," he said, and a part of him realized that he should be the one apologizing for yelling, but yelling at Cheria wasn't nearly as big of a problem as losing his little brother was. "I just . . . I . . ."

"Asbel?" Cheria looked back at him, and he could hear the confusion in her voice, though he was no longer looking at her. "Asbel? What is it?"

The apple tree was near enough to the entrance point to West Lhant Road that – when standing under the tree's branches – one could see down the road a good portion of the way. Asbel was staring down it now not because it was particularly interesting, but because a group of men had gathered just a little ways down the way. They were around his dad's age, if he had to guesstimate, and they looked to be dirty and greasy, with torn and muddy clothes and ratty hair tied back. They were likely bandits, but none of that was important. Those little tidbits weren't what grabbed Asbel's attention.

No, what had Asbel staring at them was the fact that they were all gathered around something – or rather, someone. The someone they were circled around was a child, his arm held tightly in the grasp of one of the bandits, his eyes squeezed shut as he shook in fear.

"Asbel!" Cheria gasped. She'd finally noticed what he was looking at, and he felt her grab his arm. "Asbel, is that . . . Hubert?"

It was. It was Hubert. His little brother.

Asbel wasn't near enough to hear what they were saying, but he was near enough to see one of them pull some kind of dirty rag out of their pocket and pour something on it. Then, while the one holding Hubert held him in place, the one with the rag shoved it over Hubert's face, causing him to kick and struggle for a moment before he went limp, dropping to the ground like one of Cheria's broken dolls.

And that – seeing that – was what made Asbel snap.

Losing Hubert was bad enough. Seeing Hubert scared and surrounded by strangers that were holding him there was even worse. But watching as they made Hubert pass out somehow was the final straw. Asbel started running before he even realized he was running, charging straight for the bandits despite the fact that Cheria was screaming at him to stop. As he ran, Asbel crouched down and scooped up a thick stick off the ground, wielding it like one would a sword. And for one, shining moment, he was no longer just a nine year old, but rather, a knight from the Kingdom of Windor, rushing forward to defend and protect someone he cared about. Of course, that wasn't really the case, but he was a big brother, and sometimes being a big brother was even better than being a knight.

The one thing Asbel had going for him was the element of surprise, and so he was able to get the first attack in, swinging his stick hard at the knee of the bandit holding Hubert. The man shouted in surprise and (Asbel hoped) pain, and dropped Asbel's little brother on the ground. Hubert had been forced to pass out, so he collapsed with a thud and didn't move, and though Asbel did want the bandits to get away from Hubert, the sight of them just dropping him carelessly to the dirt just made Asbel even angrier.

"What the—who is this kid?" one of the bandits asked, and Asbel stepped protectively over Hubert, brandishing his stick like a broadsword.

"I'm Asbel Lhant, and if you know what's good for you, you'll get away from my little brother," he proclaimed, tilting his chin up in an attempt to look down at all of them. The bandits exchanged looks, quiet for a moment, before they burst out laughing. Asbel frowned.

That wasn't exactly the reaction he was hoping for.

"Two for the price of one? This is perfect." The bandit originally holding Hubert reached down and grabbed the back of Asbel's sweatshirt, picking him straight up off the ground. Immediately, Asbel began to squirm and thrash, but he seemed unable to wriggle out of his sweatshirt, and the bandit held him firm regardless. "Double the ransom, double the fun. Hey, drug this one too, Earl."

"You got it." The other bandit – the one with the skinnier arms, named Earl, apparently – pulled out the same rag they'd shoved against Hubert's face. Asbel didn't know what was on it, but it looked dirty and gross and he didn't plan on fainting any time soon. "C'mere, ya little bugger."

"Screw you!" Asbel snapped. Technically, he wasn't supposed to say things like that, but technically, he wasn't supposed to get kidnapped, either. As Earl neared, Asbel swung his stick, hitting Earl's wrist to knock it away before he swung and caught Earl in the face. Earl hissed in pain and smacked a hand over his now wounded eye, and Asbel took the opportunity to twist just enough to smack his own captor in the face with the stick, too. He was dropped instantly, and it was only through virtue of good reflexes that he managed to not land on top of Hubert, but rather, standing over him. Asbel shifted his stance, glaring, holding his stick just as he'd always seen his father wield his sword. The bandit that had been holding him glowered though one eye, one hand rubbing his injured eye as the other reached for his sword.

"So, you wanna play kid? Fine. Let's play." He pulled a dirty iron sword out of the sheath at his waist, and Asbel actually felt a little thrill of fear flash through him. He was more than ready to defend his brother, but even he wasn't foolish enough to think a stick could stand against a real sword. "See how you like this, you little brat!"

Asbel shut his eyes and moved his stick up, hoping against hope that he'd be able to block the blow. With his eyes shut, the loud clang of metal against metal sounded louder than ever, and Asbel opened his eyes in shock to see that a sword had blocked the one aimed straight for his head. The sword, naturally, was not held by his hands; but when Asbel craned his head back a bit more, he saw that his father was standing over him, sword in hand.

"W-Who . . ." the bandit asked, backing away. Asbel's father lowered his sword, though he didn't put it away.

"I'm Aston Lhant," he said, and he sounded angrier than Asbel had ever heard him sound before, "and I suggest – for your own good – that you get as far away from my sons as possible."

The bandits looked at each other, seemingly struck dumb for a minute, before they turned and bolted down the path, hastening to put as much distance between themselves and Asbel and Hubert as possible. Asbel's father motioned to a few of the guards standing behind him, and they immediately gave chase, their armor clanking loudly as they ran. Asbel, on the other hand, moved as quietly as he could, tossing his stick to the side and crouching down so that he could check on Hubert. His father, however – his sword sheathed – reached down and picked Hubert up easily off the ground, though he cradled him with a lot more care than the bandits had. Seeing as how he could no longer check on Hubert, Asbel looked past his father and saw that Cheria and Frederic were standing just behind him, Cheria looking incredibly worried.

"Frederic," Asbel's father said, turning to face his servant, "you can take Cheria home now. I can handle things from here."

"Yes, sir." Frederic put a hand on Cheria's head, leading her back to town. "Cheria, come with me. Let's get you some tea."

"Okay, Grandpa." Cheria spared Asbel another look, raising her hand in a wave. "Bye, Asbel. See you later. Let me know how Hubert is, okay?"

Asbel nodded. "I will." For some reason, he couldn't raise his voice very much, and he felt incredibly tiny next to his father – tinier than he'd ever felt. And for the first time since that encounter, his father looked down, and made contact with him.

"Asbel. Let's go home."

The disappointment and anger rang clear in his father's voice, and Asbel kept his eyes on the ground as they headed back to Lhant. The circus was still underway as if nothing had happened, but the loud noises and bright colors no longer seemed appealing. Every now and then, Asbel looked up at his brother's unconscious form in their father's arms, or tried to match his strides to his father's long ones. He couldn't, no matter how hard he tried, and I was almost hard for him to believe that he'd started that day feeling so confident and in control.

As soon as they reached the manor's grounds, Asbel's mother ran out to meet them, nearly crying as she fussed over Hubert. Asbel held his hands behind his back, kicking lightly at the ground, before she swooped down on him as well, grabbing him in a fierce, almost lung crushing hug.

"Mom—Mom, I'm okay!" Asbel tried to squirm out of her grasp, but she seemed reluctant to let him go. "It's not me you should worry about, it's Hubert—"

"That's exactly right." Asbel stiffened and looked up, though his father wasn't looking at him. Instead, his father merely stared straight ahead at the manor, his voice low and tight. "We don't know what they did to put Hubert in this state, which will make it difficult to care for him. I told you to watch out for your little brother, Asbel. You don't know how upset I am that you didn't listen to me."

"I . . . I only looked away for a minute," Asbel said, but the excuse sounded weak even to his own ears. "I—I didn't want anything bad to happen to him, I just—Cheria—"

"Don't blame Cheria for this." His father's voice was harsh, like a slap, and Asbel flinched. "You and your brother both could have died - would have died, had Cheria not gone for help - and it was a direct result of your actions. Blaming others for what you yourself did isn't a way for a man to act."

"Aston," Asbel's mother tried, as Asbel turned his eyes to the ground again, "please, what's most important is that they're both all right. We'll know better for next time, we simply won't let them go to things like that again—"

"You're absolutely right, Kerri," Asbel's father said, and he finally started to carry Hubert back to the manor. "We most certainly won't."

Asbel watched his parents take his little brother inside the manor, and though he knew he should follow - though he knew he was grounded, quite possibly for life - he didn't. Instead, he walked over to sit on one of the benches by the fountain, feeling lower than he'd ever felt, and not just because his parents were angry with him.

Hubert had almost died. His little brother was almost killed. Asbel wasn't the type to not care about his own safety, but his own condition did pale in comparison to that of his little brother. If something had actually happened to Hubert - if Hubert had been seriously hurt, or worse, killed - then Asbel didn't know what he'd do. He pulled his knees up to his chest, hugging them tightly, staring hard at the ground. Before that moment, he'd always thought that he alone was enough to protect his brother. He always had been in the past. When Hubert had hurt himself, Asbel made sure that he got bandaged up properly. When Hubert was scared due to nightmares or imaginary monsters at night, Asbel was the one that offered him protection. But now . . . now it seemed like he needed something more-like he needed protection that was more than what Asbel could give him.

And, like lightning, a spot of inspiration struck him in that moment.

Asbel looked over his shoulder, glancing back at the manor. There was no sign of his parents. Carefully, he climbed off the bench, and started down toward the end of the lane. As soon as he reached it, he bolted around the corner, running full-pelt back toward the main plaza of Lhant, toward the circus. He no longer cared about seeing the monster tamers or getting cotton candy, but there was one thing they sold there that he absolutely had to have.

He could only hope that he wasn't too late.

Hubert was unconscious for about five hours, and when he woke up, he seemed stricken with a horrendous migraine and a scratchy, sore throat. Their mother fussed over him, ensuring that he got medicine, water, and a cool compress for his head, while Asbel sat over on his bed, watching. He wanted to say that he could take care of Hubert, that he could make sure Hubert got what he needed, but he felt as though that would likely make the situation worse, so he refrained.

Still, when their mother finally left their room, Asbel hopped off his bed and went over to sit on Hubert's, instead. Hubert hadn't gone back to sleep, though he looked weary, his eyes half-open as he laid back on his pillows. When Asbel bounded over to sit on his little brother's bed, though, Hubert pushed himself up into a more upright position, smiling a little. "Hey, big brother," he said, and is voice still sounded scratchy. Asbel frowned.

"Don't push yourself, Hubert. You need to rest." Hubert shook his head.

"No, I'm fine. I was out for a really long time. I don't wanna go back to sleep." He looked down at his blanket, though, and started toying with the hem. Asbel recognized the action as a sheepish one. "I'm sorry, though, Azzy. I know you got in trouble for it." Asbel stared at Hubert in a small degree of shock.

"You're sorry? For what? Jeez, Hubert. For someone so smart, you really are dumb sometimes." Hubert looked up, and he looked a bit indignant. Though Asbel would never say it out loud - because he was nine, and nine year old boys did not admit stuff like this, even about their little brothers - it was kinda cute.

"I am not dumb!"

"You're being dumb now," Asbel insisted. "It wasn't your fault, Hubert. It's not like you got kidnapped on purpose." Hubert looked down at the blanket again, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth.

"I know," he said quietly. "But . . ."

"But nothing," Asbel cut him off, and then he reached into his sweatshirt pocket, pulling something out. "But hey, I got you something. Just to make sure nothing like this ever happens again." He held his hand out to Hubert, and Hubert - curiosity washing away residual sadness or sheepishness - reached out to gently take the small object from Asbel's palm.

"What's this?"

"It's a good luck charm," Asbel said, and he grinned as Hubert stared at the small tag in wonder. "A cryas good luck charm, to be exact. It'll keep you safe, no matter what, just in case I'm not around to protect you." Of course, it wasn't actually filled with cryas. They sold the empty charms at the circus, but not the cryas to go with them, and - at age nine - Asbel didn't exactly have enough resources to go procure cryas himself. So, naturally, he did the next best thing: he snuck into the kitchen, got some pepper, and filled the charm with that instead. But Hubert had no way of knowing that, and if Asbel said it was cryas, then it was cryas. He was the big brother, after all; he was always right, about everything. "You know, just in case."

"Just in case . . ." Hubert closed his fingers around the good luck charm, and then looked up at Asbel with a smile so bright it was like he'd never even been kidnapped in the first place. "Thanks, Azzy. Thanks a lot!"

"No problem, little bro-hey!" Asbel laughed as Hubert tackled him in a hug, sending them both sprawling on the bed. "Be careful! You've still gotta rest!"

"I'm fine!" Hubert insisted, though he did crawl off his brother, still grinning as bright as the sun. "I really am. You're the best big brother ever, you know?"

Asbel returned his little brother's smile, reaching out to ruffle his hair. "Yeah," he agreed, a bit cheekily. "I know."