Journey to Queyon: The Innocence Cycle, Book 3 Read online

  Journey to Queyon

  The Innocence Cycle

  Book 3

  by

  J D Abbas

  © 2016 by J D Abbas

  Editing by P.N. Hopkins

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States by Tamak Books.

  Tamak Books supports copyright. Copyright protects authors so they may continue to share their creativity, promote the free expression of thought, and be fairly compensated for their work. Thank you for purchasing an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission.

  A Pacific Northwest Company

  Cover art designed by Maduranga via Fiverr.com

  The Innocence Cycle:

  Shattered by Shadows

  Beyond the Third Door

  Journey to Queyon

  Birth of Innocence (Spring 2017)

  Power of Innocents (Fall 2017)

  Dedicated to

  my readers who have shared

  their stories of healing.

  Your words and lives

  are gift to me.

  Table of Contents

  Table of Contents

  Trigger Warning

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  About the Author

  Names & Pronunciation Guide

  Foreign Words

  Trigger Warning

  This novel series deals with what we now call human trafficking, specifically child sex trafficking. There were no such labels or designations until somewhere around the year 2000, so you will not find those words in this series. But the construct is there. And it’s ugly. I exerted great effort to ensure there is no gratuitous violence or sex, but I did not shy away from truth. Well, I did at first, but my characters would not let me get away with it. This is their story, and it had to be told their way.

  So, I warn you, if you are a survivor of abuse—physical, sexual, verbal or emotional—this novel may trigger PTSD or rouse buried memories and emotions. If you choose to continue reading, please have a self-care plan in place—a soothing activity, a friend you can invite to sit with you, or a therapist you can call.

  While The Innocence Cycle, like life, is dark in some ways, it is also filled with light and love. It is my hope that the story will ultimately be empowering and healing for survivors and anyone else who may read it. Please know that every word was written with that intent.

  Prologue

  Lily stared into the face of death for the first time, thinking it looked so much like her mama. But, unlike her mother, it had invisible arms that reached into her and squeezed her heart until all the love spilled out of her eyes. Now her insides felt hollow.

  A warm hand rested on her head. “Death is not the end, Lily.” Her papa’s voice was a scratchy whisper. “Mama has returned to the Source of all Light.”

  Lily scrunched up her nose as her eyes traveled up Papa’s tall, skinny body until they reached his bearded face. His eyes were saggy from being up with Mama every night as she coughed and tried to suck in air.

  Papa chuckled when he saw her expression, a sad chuckle. “You know how the sunbeams dance in the doqajh, spreading rainbows of light everywhere. That’s what it’s like always when we reach our final home, when we reach the Source.”

  Mama always loved rainbows. She and Lily would squeal with delight when they saw one in the sky. Lily wondered if Mama could climb on rainbows and slide down in this Source place. She pictured Mama laughing, her hands up in the air as she swooped into clouds.

  Then Lily looked at the cold, not-smiling face again, and the death-arms squeezed her, finding more tears.

  Papa scooped her up and held her tight. He smelled of sweat and horses, a good smell. She buried her face in his neck and snuggled in tight as he settled in the rocking chair, humming Mama’s favorite song.

  A knock on the door made her jump. Papa rose with a groan, as if his whole body hurt, like the time he got caught between an angry horse and the slats of a stall.

  Still holding her close, he opened the door.

  It was Zola, the local healer, whose face looked like shriveled fruit—but she was nice. She glanced at Lily then across the room. “She’s gone then.”

  “Um hmm.” The sound rumbled in Papa’s chest.

  “They’re requiring all”—Zola’s eyes flicked to Lily—“umm ... bodies to be burned on the day they ... pass.”

  “I’ve already been informed.” Papa sounded angry now.

  “People are panicking, saying Qho’el is punishing us for something.”

  “Hmmph. So how does burning the bodies ease that ignorant fear?”

  Zola shook her head. “There is something ... unnatural about this illness. I’ve never seen anything like it. The ones taken sick are all in the prime of their lives with healthy children and fruitful land. And it seems to attack both partners but spares the children. Isn’t that odd?”

  Papa’s arms stiffened around Lily.

  The healer cleared her throat. “How are you feeling, Jordah? You look a little flushed.”

  “It’s been a rough few days. I’m just tired.”

  Zola cocked her head. “Any cough?”

  “No.”

  Lily was surprised. Her papa never lied. She pulled back and looked up at his face. His big hand cupped her head and gently pushed it back onto his shoulder.

  “Jordah, I know you and the girl are alone now. If you need anything. Let me know.”

  “We’ll be fine.”

  Lily felt the lie in those words too.

  ~

  The next knock at the door came weeks later.

  Lily was doing the best she could to care for Papa. He was so tired all the time, and he coughed up dark stuff that made him choke. She wanted to fetch Zola, but Papa wouldn’t let her.

  Lily opened the door a crack. A hunched old woman stood on the other side. When she saw Lily peeking out, her eyes widened.

  “My, you’re a beautiful girl.” The stranger looked at Lily in the same way Papa used to look at Mama’s fresh baked bread. But Lily never wanted to hide when Papa ate b
read.

  “Is your father home?”

  Lily nodded, though she really wanted to lie and tell the lady to go away.

  She heard her father moving in the other room. “Who is it, Lily?”

  The woman smiled, though her eyes looked more like herding dogs when they spotted a wolf. “Lily. What a lovely name.”

  Papa came up behind Lily, his big hand cupping her shoulder. She immediately moved behind him and hugged his waist.

  “Vargona? I haven’t seen you in years. What brings you out here?”

  The stranger’s eyes finally looked at Papa, and Lily felt as if a cloud moved away.

  “I heard you were ill.” She glanced down at Lily again, making her squeeze Papa harder. “I know you don’t have any family left, so I thought I’d offer what help I could, in the event that ...”

  Papa gave a big sigh, his broad shoulders moving up and down, which brought on a coughing fit. Lily ran to get his rag. When she came back, Papa was sitting on a chair, working to catch his breath, and the stranger was inside, walking around their small house and touching her Mama’s things with that fresh-baked-bread look again.

  Lily handed the rag to her Papa then huddled up close to his shoulder.

  “I know people who can offer her a good home, away from all this sickness.”

  Papa looked down at his hands.

  “I could take her now, before it gets too close to the end.”

  Lily clutched at his shirt. “No, Papa, don’t send me away. I want to take care of you.”

  Papa held his head like he had a bad headache, and his big shoulders shook. “Lily, you’re only eight. You shouldn’t have to take care of me.”

  Lily’s stomach hurt.

  “She’s already had to watch Nayla suffer. You don’t want to make her watch you go through that as well.”

  Lily patted his shoulder. “You’re going to get better, Papa. I know you are.”

  “If you do improve, we can always bring her home.” The stranger moved next to Papa’s other shoulder, her gnarled hand gripping it. “It’s what’s best for her, Jordah.”

  The next thing Lily knew, Papa was scooping her up in a tight hug and praying for Qho’el to bless and care for her. He set her down and knelt in front of her, gripping her face in his strong hands. “Remember, death is not the end. We’ll see each other again and count the rainbows.” He kissed her cheeks, and their tears swirled together.

  “We’ll take good care of her,” the stranger told Papa as she pulled Lily through the door. “Don’t worry.”

  “I love you, Lillianna,” Papa called from the porch. “Always and forever.”

  “No, Papa, no. Don’t let her take me.”

  Papa covered his face with his hands and turned his back as if he didn’t want to see her anymore.

  The stranger hurried away, dragging Lily behind her. When the woman yanked her around the corner of the house and she could no longer see Papa, Lily wailed and kicked. The woman’s nails dug into her skin as she tightened her grip on Lily’s arms.

  “Shut up, you untamed wench. This is hard enough on him already.”

  Lily pulled free of one gnarled hand, but when she turned to run away, the woman slapped the side of her head so hard it felt like her ear was bleeding.

  Lily’s mouth hung open. Her parents had never hit her, never even raised their voices. Why would Papa let this mean woman take her?

  “Your life has been too easy, the life of a flower.” The woman sneered as she said the words, her voice filled with hatred. Lily couldn’t understand why; she’d never met the woman before. “Well, it won’t be so sweet from now on.”

  The stranger suddenly grew taller, and all her wrinkles disappeared. She picked Lily up and threw her over her shoulder as if she were just a sack of seed.

  “Now you’ll learn the truth about what life is truly like for beautiful flowers.”

  Chapter 1

  “Elena,” Celdorn called from the doorway, “would you please come with us?” He and Elbrion stood just inside the room that had once been the antechamber to their living quarters, sealed off from the outer corridor decades ago. It had served as Elena’s private bedchamber for the past two months.

  Their daughter turned from her conversation with Silvandir and Mikaelin and immediately tensed. She moved toward her room, looking back and forth between Elbrion and him, her expression half-expectant, half-wary. Celdorn knew she didn’t like surprises, but this one had been months in the making, and he hoped it would bring a smile to her face.

  Earlier, Elena had nearly danced when they told her there was going to be a celebration in the Great Hall this evening with music and feasting, and that Celdorn was allowing wives and sweethearts to join the Guardians for the festivities. He thought Elena might appreciate not feeling quite so alone among the hundreds of men. Celdorn hadn’t told her, however, that she was the guest of honor, that they were finally having a formal celebration of her adoption with the entire keep present.

  Elena’s eyes narrowed when he and Elbrion silently turned and led her through the antechamber and into Elbrion’s room. As they approached his bed, the two men parted and pulled the curtains back, motioning Elena forward.

  On the bed was a gown, the color a perfect match for Elena’s emerald eyes. It was fitted through the bodice with a full, flowing skirt. Beside it were the corset and underskirts to be worn with it, as well as ladies’ shoes. There were also three simpler dresses of various colors and designs, along with a pair of everyday shoes.

  “You will finally be clothed in something suitable for you,” Celdorn said with a grin. “You may wear the gown tonight.”

  Elena gaped at the bed, frozen and silent.

  Celdorn’s smile faded. “Is something wrong? Don’t you like it?”

  “The dress is beautiful,” she replied, her voice little more than a whisper, “but I won’t wear it.”

  “Why would you refuse?” Celdorn’s brows pulled down in a knot.

  Elena turned her back to the bed. “I prefer the clothes I’m wearing.”

  “We’ve dressed you in men’s clothing out of necessity, little one,” Celdorn said, his frown deepening. “But our tailors have worked long and hard to provide you with clothes that will allow you to dress like other women. They had to make a special trip to Greenholt to procure the fabric.”

  “I appreciate the effort, but it wasn’t necessary. These clothes are fine. I like them.” Her chin jutted out.

  “You’re a woman, Elena, and you should be able to dress like one.”

  “I won’t, and you can’t make me.” She turned and fled to her room, slamming the door behind her.

  Celdorn looked at Elbrion completely bewildered. “She may think she’s just like the young men here, but none of them behave in this manner. One minute she’s affectionate and agreeable, the next she’s angry and defiant. What just happened?”

  “I am at a loss.” Elbrion spread his hands with a shrug. “I have had little experience with seventeen-year-old women, so I can offer no counsel. I feel great turmoil in her, but only she can explain herself.”

  “Then we will pursue this until we understand.” Celdorn headed to her room with Elbrion following.

  As he lifted his hand to knock, Celdorn heard Elena weeping. He rapped on the door and eased it open. The girl hiccupped, and her crying immediately ceased. She hid her face behind her curled up knees, refusing to look up when they entered.

  Elbrion sat beside Elena while Celdorn remained standing, his arms crossed.

  “Sheya, what is the battle I feel inside you?” Elbrion asked.

  Elena answered into her knees. “I don’t want to dress like that.”

  “What is it you fear?”

  A long pause. “Being ornamented like some item on display for people to gawk and paw at.”

  Celdorn bristled and straightened. “We would never—” Then understanding dawned on him, and he eased his stance. “Were you forced to dress up for men in your past?
”

  Her head bobbed, though she kept her face hidden. “Only to have the garments ripped from me.”

  Celdorn’s mind flashed to the torn dress he’d discovered in the Farak tent the day they found her. The image shattered all his arguments. He squatted down in front of Elena and tried to make eye contact. “We don’t wish to make a spectacle of you, Elena. We want you to be free, to be able to dress as a woman without fear of being misused.”

  “But I don’t want to be a woman.” Elena finally looked up and tears spilled down her cheeks. “I want to be a warrior,” she added with a sniffle, her chin trembling.

  Celdorn’s heart twisted and warmed with deep affection for their daughter. He laid his hand on her knee and smiled. “But you are a woman, little one. No matter what you put on your body.”

  Elbrion laid his arm across her shoulders. “Elena, those that misused you have altered and distorted your perception of yourself. You have never been free to be who you are. There is no shame in being a woman.”

  “But I despise everything about being a woman.” Elena suppressed a sob and turned her gaze to him. “Men do terrible things to women.”

  “Being male does not prevent such violations. You have seen it yourself,” Elbrion countered.

  Elena bit her quivering lip.

  “We want to honor your womanhood, Elena, not degrade it.” Celdorn reached for her hand. “You are a beautiful young lady, and you have nothing to be ashamed of. I want you to be free to walk among men proudly and unafraid. You’re a lord’s daughter,” he added, squeezing her fingers. “You have been chosen and honored, and tonight we long to celebrate who you are.”

  Elena’s eyes widened, and her mouth formed an O.

  Her expression brought a renewed smile to Celdorn’s face. “It was going to be a surprise, but perhaps that was ill-considered.” He embraced both her hands. “We know that the departure of Yaelmargon troubled you, and with all else that has happened, we thought a time of joy was much needed. We want to publicly acknowledge you as our daughter and make this day the first of many festive times we can enjoy together—music, feasting, even dancing, if you wish.”