Birth of Innocence: The Innocence Cycle, Book 4 Page 3

  A scream erupted as she spun. She clamped her hand over her mouth and stared at the shimmering giant who stood behind her.

  “I am sorry I frightened you, Sheya.” Although his voice was gentle, the man towered over her, taller than any she’d ever seen before. Light pulsed beneath his pale skin, far brighter than the radiance of the wood.

  What was this place? She edged toward the corner until her back met the wall.

  “Elena, are you all right?”

  She shook her head as she slid down the wall, cowering before the glowing giant.

  “You are not well?” Concern etched the man’s radiant face.

  “No.” She swallowed the dryness in her throat. “I am not Elena. Nor am I Sheya. I don’t know them.”

  When the man frowned at her, an odd vibration moved through her chest. He stepped back toward the hallway and called down the long corridor. “Celdorn!” There was an urgency in his tone that sent a chill up her back.

  In a moment, another giant of a man appeared, taller than the glowing one and as dark as the other was light. He was shirtless, his chest muscled and scarred like a warrior’s. His wavy hair and beard were disheveled as if he had jumped from his bed. The glowing man whispered to him, but she caught only a few words. “... a part of her ... does not recall us.”

  The dark one approached and dropped to one knee a few feet from her. “Do you know where you are?”

  She shook her head.

  “Does nothing look familiar?”

  There was not much to the room: a wooden table with stiff, carved seats huddled around it, a couch, some cushiony chairs, and of course, the luminous floor and walls, which were like nothing she’d ever seen before. Why couldn’t she remember how she got here? And where was here?

  Finally, she summoned the courage to whisper, “No.”

  “I am Elbrion,” the man of light said as he squatted nearer to her than the dark one. She pressed in tighter to the corner. “This is Celdorn.” He gestured toward the darker man, then was quiet for a time as if considering something. “May I touch your face?”

  Fear erupted, sending a wave of tremors throughout her body. No doubt this man’s fingers burned with energy that would launch her into convulsions. She shook her head vehemently. If she could have moved back further, she would have.

  He held his hands up as if surrendering. “I will not harm you. Perhaps if I could see into your memories, I might be able to help.” His voice was gentle, his face so full of kindness, but she knew better than to trust.

  A knock sounded on the door, and another dark giant entered. When she saw the dim light of the dawn outside, she wondered if she could squeeze past him and out the door before they caught her. But in a second, the opportunity was gone.

  The new man closed the door and took in the scene with a scowl that shook her to the core. A sick dread hit her stomach as a puddle formed beneath her. She pulled her trousers over her feet, hoping to hide it.

  Elbrion steered the newcomer toward the hallway, whispering all the while.

  The one named Celdorn glanced at her feet. His eyes squeezed shut as he huffed out a sigh.

  She cowered into the corner, arms wrapped around her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

  “Do not fear, little one. No one here will punish you.”

  When he called her ‘little one,’ it felt as if something inside her stilled then reached toward him. She peeked out. Tears slid down the stranger’s cheeks. She noticed the younger dark one wiping his face on his sleeve. Who were these men, and why were they crying?

  Celdorn cleared his throat. “You don’t remember us, but we are ... friends of yours and have been for some time. We know of your history and understand the basis of your fears.”

  ‘Friends’? Why would she be friends with these giants? None of this made sense.

  A thought occurred to her. “Will you let me go home?”

  Pain shattered Celdorn’s features. “You ... you are home.”

  Oh. “You bought me for good then?”

  The big man looked as if she’d slapped him. “No, little one. No. You live with us willingly, freely.” He swallowed hard and rubbed the back of his neck. “Something must have frightened you and caused you to lose your memory. Maybe a bad dream.” He searched her face. “May I ask your name?”

  Her defenses, which had slowly lowered, snapped back into place. “If we’ve been friends for some time, why do you not know my name?”

  Celdorn gave her a sad smile. “A fair question. When first we met, you could not speak. I named you Elena so that I could address you personally. You later told us your name was Giara, but you preferred to be called Elena.”

  She pointed toward the luminous man. “But he called me, Sheya?”

  The smile broadened across Celdorn’s face. This time it reached his eyes. “It is a term of endearment from his language. It means ‘precious one.’”

  She studied Elbrion, and her head began to throb. A blinding headache would soon follow. “My name is Kitara.”

  Celdorn jolted as if a blast of energy had just struck him. He cocked his head and studied her again. His emotions seemed to be crawling into her body. She squirmed and shifted her position. Cold dread seized her when she felt the mass in her belly. Her hands gripped the mound. “Whose?” she choked out as her gaze drifted among the men. Then a fierce tremor shook her, and she lost control again.

  Celdorn leaned back on his haunches and scrubbed his face. “I fear we have overwhelmed you. Perhaps now is not the time to answer that question.” He reached toward her, but his hand froze mid-air, hung there for a moment, then dropped to his side. “Would you like to change your clothes?”

  “You would allow that?”

  “Of course.”

  She glanced toward the hallway. “Is the room where I awoke mine? Do I have clothing there?”

  He nodded. She was trying to figure out how she could get past the other two giants without exposing her humiliation, when Celdorn asked another question.

  “Do you remember anything before you awoke? Anything from last night? A dream perhaps.”

  She searched for some memory of this place, any thread that would lead here. Nothing. The room tilted and the floor rolled beneath her. White light exploded in her head. She fell onto her side and screamed, “Make it stop,” just before the darkness took her.

  ~

  “Elbrion,” Celdorn called as Elena went limp and collapse onto the floor.

  Elbrion hurried over and laid his hand on the side of the girl’s face. He closed his eyes and sang a quiet Elrodanar chant.

  “What made her faint?” Celdorn asked.

  “She is fighting within.” Elbrion opened his eyes and looked toward Celdorn, though his gaze remained distant, unfocused. “Everything is in turmoil. It is as if someone smashed her inner world then put it back together incorrectly.”

  Celdorn scowled at him. “What?”

  “I do not know how to describe it any better than that. I can find no entry point.”

  “Silvandir, go find Yaelmargon,” Celdorn ordered.

  The young Guardian didn’t move. He watched from across the room, body hunched, eyes sagging with concern and grief. He looked as if his beloved had just passed from this world once again and his own heart had gone with her.

  “She’ll be all right, Silvandir,” Celdorn assured him. “But go, now. Hurry!”

  Silvandir straightened at Celdorn’s command and dashed out of the house.

  Elbrion continued to sing, while Celdorn worked to believe his own words. He massaged his aching temples, wondering if Elena’s mind would ever be whole?

  Chapter 5

  When Yaelmargon returned with Silvandir, he wasted no time. He laid his hands on the girl’s head and hurried into her internal world. He found himself in the rubble of what used to be the vestibule; the shattered pieces of her fortress lay in piles around him.

  Frantic, angry screams came from behind the middle corridor’s
demolished entrance. Yaelmargon stepped over the fragments of the door and followed the sounds of breaking glass and splintering wood to the last room on the left. He glanced through the open portal.

  “I hate you!” Elena repeated over and over as she battered a mirror with a chunk of the damaged doorframe, which she wielded like a club. When the mirror fell from the wall in a heap, she spun around and lashed out at another object. “Go away! Die already,” she raged at her own image reflected on a metal shield that hung there. She swung with a vengeance and knocked it to the ground, where she continued to attack it until it lay gnarled and twisted.

  When she noticed Yaelmargon’s light glinting off the metal, she turned toward the door. Elena stared at him from crazed eyes, her face shining with sweat and tears, her clothes slashed and saturated with blood. Crimson scars covered her arms.

  Yaelmargon glanced up and down the hall. Frightened eyes peeked out from the wreckage—dozens of them, studying him from their hiding places. He turned back to Elena and said, “You do not have to punish yourself.”

  The girl scowled at him. “I would be dead, if I could kill myself. But apparently I’m. Not. Allowed. To. Die!” she screamed at the ceiling. “I slash the flesh, and it heals in seconds. I can’t cut fast enough.” She held out arms that shook with rage and frustration. “But I can cause the death of everyone around me.” Elena swept her hands emphatically through the air. “It seems my punishment is to stay alive—maybe forever—and endure this guilt.”

  Suddenly, she squatted and wrapped her arms around her knees. A sob squeaked out. “I’ve begged to die since I was tiny, but it seems I’m doomed to live.” Her tone had gone flat and lifeless as she continued to pull into herself, her eyes now a rich mahogany.

  The rage flared again with a flash of white light. She threw her head back and shouted, “It’s not right!”

  Yaelmargon eased toward her, his hands outstretched in a conciliatory gesture. “You did nothing wrong. You did not cause Haldor’s death,” he reasoned with her. “He is in that blissful realm you visited. And I am certain he would not come back even if given the choice. You will see him again, Yaena.”

  She propped her chin on her knees and gazed at him from hollow, deadened eyes, which had returned to their emerald hue. “It should have been me.”

  “No, Yaena. It was as it had to be.”

  “I foresaw it. I was supposed to die, and it was all supposed to end,” she argued lifelessly.

  “You misunderstood the vision. Come to the outside with me, and we will reason this out together.”

  “I don’t deserve to be out there. They love something I can’t be. I failed them all—yet again. And it cost them their dear friend.”

  “Lies!” Yaelmargon snapped. Then, he caught himself and softened his tone. “They—we love you as you are. No expectation of perfection. No grandiose ideals. We love you with your history, your flaws, and your inadequacies, just as Haldor loved you. He would be so saddened to see you in this state. He willingly sacrificed his life for all of us—for you. He knew what he was doing. You did not mislead him, Yaena. Haldor was following the Jhadhela, not you.”

  Elena was no longer looking at Yaelmargon but was transfixed on the hallway behind him. Her mouth dropped open. When he turned, he saw dozens of brilliant lights filling the corridor. The sound of delicate chimes tinkled in the air while an intoxicatingly sweet scent enveloped them.

  “Did I not tell you, Yabéha, that I longed to return to this place?” a deep voice spoke.

  “Haldor!” The sight of her friend ripped Elena from her wretchedness. She lunged forward and threw her arms around Haldor, bursting into tears. It was several minutes before she could gain control over the heaving of her chest to speak further.

  “Forgive me. Oh, please forgive me for misleading you,” she whimpered.

  “Shh, no, no, Elena,” Haldor soothed. “You enabled me to do what I could not have done alone. Thank you, dear girl.”

  “Oh, Haldor, don’t thank me. You might as well thrust a dagger in my belly and twist it.”

  “Be at peace, Yabéha. I have no regrets. It was as it had to be,” he assured her, reiterating Yaelmargon’s words. “You, however, must stop punishing yourself. You are wasting precious time and energy. Must we have yet another harsh lesson?” He broke into a mischievous grin then sobered. “Those waiting outside for you thought they had lost you—as did I. Our grief was immense. Now their joy is overshadowed by their fear of losing you yet again to your own mind.” He laid his hand on the back of her head. “You should not be in here with me when you could be with them. It is time to live.”

  Elena stepped back and blinked away tears. “I’m sorry yet again. It was not my intent to demean your sacrifice,” she whispered.

  “No apologies needed. I am not angry with you. I love you, precious girl.” He grasped her face in his large hands. “I will watch over you until we are reunited. And we will be reunited.”

  All the tension seemed to flow from Elena’s body. “I-I will miss you, Haldor.” She sniffed and wiped her nose on her sleeve.

  Haldor glanced at Yaelmargon. “As the master once told you, I am as close as your thoughts, Yabéha.” With that, he kissed the top of her head and was gone.

  Elena clutched her heart, and Yaelmargon felt the pain that twisted it. “I-I love you, too, Haldor.” The words echoed in the silence around them. Then she broke into a broad smile. “Yes, I hear you. I’m going.”

  She turned to Yaelmargon, shoulders slumped as if she carried a heavy burden on her back, and held out a hand, brows arched. “Lend me your strength?”

  Warmth swelled his heart. Yaelmargon gripped her hand firmly and said, “As much as you need, Yaena.”

  The two walked through the rubble to the double doors at the far side of the vestibule.

  ~

  Elena opened her eyes and pushed herself to a sitting position. Yaelmargon stepped back. She glanced around and realized she was hunched in the corner of the common room in their new home in Queyon.

  Celdorn knelt in front of her, his dark brow furrowed. “Do you know me?”

  “Of course, Ada.” She smiled and Celdorn blew out a breath.

  “I’m so relieved.” He laid a hand on her head, and his chest shuddered as a sob shook it. “We could not bear the thought of losing you again.” Tears glistened in his dark, weary eyes. He looked as if he hadn’t slept in days.

  Elbrion edged closer and squatted next to Celdorn, grasping her arm. Tears spilled all around, and she was unable to stop hers from joining them. These emotional men were going to be her undoing.

  When Elena stretched out her numb legs, she realized her clothing was damp. Then the stench hit her and her cheeks burned. Elbrion noticed. He patted her arm and moved back without a word. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, keeping her eyes on the floor.

  Celdorn didn’t move. “You use those words far too often, and for things over which you have no control.”

  Elena looked up to find her ada smiling at her. “Why don’t you go change,” he whispered. “We will wait. Then we must talk.”

  Elena nodded. When she rose, she noticed Silvandir for the first time. Her blush deepened. With a trembling smile, he turned his back.

  Thankful for Silvandir’s consideration, she fled to her room.

  ~

  While Elena was changing her clothes, Silvandir grabbed a bucket and some rags and cleaned up the floor so she wouldn’t have to face the mess again. His heart ached as he realized how immense her fear of them had been to evoke such a visceral response.

  How could she not have known us at all? Will she ever feel completely safe with us? With me? The questions haunted him as he scrubbed the floor. Then he forced his mind to turn to better things. She had been returned to them; little else mattered.

  Silvandir had been so excited to see her this morning, to tell her the news about her son—their son. In all of the previous night’s chaos, he had decided it would be better to wait u
ntil they were in a more private setting. He imagined she would want to see Terzhel right away, but they would need to find someone to help them communicate. He was fairly certain Lamreth, the current head of the council of elders, was a reader of thoughts. Perhaps he would be willing.

  While Silvandir took care of the mess, the others sat around the beautifully carved table and waited. No one spoke, as if to do so might break their current good fortune. Silvandir wondered if everyone else was as tentative as he was about Elena’s future. He set the bucket outside on the landing and rinsed his hands in the washbasin near the door.

  Silvandir joined the others at the table. “I need to tell her about Terzhel.” Yaelmargon raised a brow, but Silvandir directed his comments to Celdorn and Elbrion. “I want to tell her before anything else happens.”

  Celdorn cleared his throat and nodded toward the hallway.

  “Tell me what?” Elena said.

  Silvandir spun. Her footsteps were so quiet, he hadn’t heard her. He stumbled to his feet and swept her into his arms. “I’m so glad you’re all right. That you know us.”

  She patted his back as she returned the hug. “I’m sorry I frightened you. Again.” Elena pulled back and searched his face. “That’s not what you wanted to tell me, though.”

  “Here, sit down.” Silvandir directed her to his chair. His stomach fluttered, wondering how she was going to take this. “This might be a bit of a shock.” He knelt in front of her, took her hands in his, and broke into a grin. “We-we have a son.”

  Elena’s brows arched in surprise then pulled down into a frown. “I don’t understand.”

  “Your son. We found him. Well, he found us really. You’ve met him, but we didn’t know he was your son until after you ... But he knew. I named him Terzhel, which means son of the light, so he’d always carry a part of your name.”