Journey to Queyon: The Innocence Cycle, Book 3 Page 4

  “How did she do that?” one of the trainees asked, and Elena knew the others could now see the stranger’s true form.

  Ignoring the question, Silvandir ordered four of the spectators to take the Wallanard man to the dungeon and keep him under guard until Celdorn decided what to do with him. Then he turned back to Elena.

  “What did he say to you?”

  “He called me by my old name and said he knew me, that he’d ... been with me before.” Elena’s face grew hot as she stared down. “He told me my father is searching for me and won’t stop until ...” She glanced up at Silvandir with distress and whispered, “Until I am back in his bed. It’s just as I feared; I’ll never be free.” Her body trembled, and her knees suddenly refused to hold her up.

  Silvandir caught her and pulled her into an embrace. “That man is a liar. He’s trying to frighten you. What proof did he offer that your father lives, other than his empty words?” He rested his chin on her head and squeezed tighter. “You’re safe here, Elena. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

  “But this man found me and walked past all of the guards somehow.” She pushed Silvandir back. “My father is equally adept at disguising himself. Unless he’s truly dead, I’ll never be safe.”

  Braiden cleared his throat. “El-Elena?” She turned to see him dangling the man’s severed part between his thumb and forefinger. “H-how in the world did you d-do this with no one n-noticing?”

  Elena kept a hand on Silvandir’s arm to steady herself. “Instinctively, I suppose.” She struggled to remember what happened. “I ... appealed to his lust and then it was as if my dagger moved on its own and removed ... that.” She nodded toward Braiden’s hand. “Then when he went for my throat, the dagger pierced his palm.” Elena was as surprised as they were at the recounting. She found herself reluctant to mention the warrior part of her; it made her feel slightly mad.

  “T-Tobil’s right, y-you have great intuitive f-fighting skills. R-remind m-me never to anger you,” Braiden said as he tossed the part back into the pool of blood, signaling for two of the trainees to clean up the mess. He wiped his hands on his trousers.

  Elena tried to get the blood off her own hands, but the more she wiped at them, the more blood seemed to appear from nowhere, oozing out of her uninjured flesh. Frantic, her focus turned to the spots on her clothing. She scrubbed at them but they just kept spreading.

  Braiden enfolded her hands. “I-it’s all right, Elena. We’ll g-go upstairs, and-and you can w-wash.” She looked up at him, feeling half-crazed. He tightened his grip, his eyes so gentle. “I-it’s always d-difficult the first time y-you shed blood.”

  “It’s not the first time,” Elena blurted before she could stop herself. She yanked her hands away and clawed at the spatter, desperation exploding. “Get it off me!”

  Chapter 4

  “What happened?” Celdorn jumped up from his meeting when he saw the blood on Elena’s face and clothes. He hurried across his chamber. “Are you injured?”

  Elena didn’t respond. Braiden steered her toward a chair at the far end of the council table, away from the men from Marach, and eased her into the seat. Her gaze was unfocused, her face slack.

  Celdorn grabbed her chin, examining her forehead. Blood, but no visible wound, no swelling.

  “She isn’t hurt,” Silvandir replied for her. “We had an intruder. That’s his blood. He approached Elena in the practice arena. They had an ...altercation. He was the only one injured.” His lips moved as if he would say more, but when he glanced at Elena, then around the table at those from the other keep, he seemed to think better of it. “He’s in the dungeon, and a healer is tending the injuries.”

  Celdorn flushed with anger. “How could this man have gotten so close to Elena without anyone seeing him? How did he get past our guards?”

  “He was in the guise of a Rogaran. Only Elena saw differently.”

  Celdorn noticed Elena rubbing her hands frenetically, her gaze unfocused. She was lost in another time and place. He squatted in front of her. “Can you tell me what happened?”

  Her eyes darted around as if searching for something. Finally, her rabid gaze settled on Celdorn. “I can’t get it off.” She held out her hands, her voice filled with distress. “Please, get it off.” Her eyes changed color as she started to shift.

  “Hold on, little one.” He lifted her and hurried toward the antechamber, away from the many curious eyes. “I’ll be back shortly,” he called behind him.

  Once in her room, Celdorn sat her on the bed and searched for clean clothes. “Stay with me.” She was smaller but seemed to have stopped shifting for the moment. When he found what he needed, he carried her to the bathing room, put her down straddling one of the benches, and went to get water. Elena was staring at her hands when he set the basin in front of her. She didn’t move toward it, so he sat across from her and submerged her hands, scrubbing at the blood. He wet a towel to wipe the splotches from her face and helped her to change her shirt. She didn’t resist him but seemed focused on some faraway place.

  “Elena, what are you seeing?”

  “I killed her.” Her voice was chillingly hollow.

  Her? Celdorn’s heart sped up. “You killed who?”

  “Kitara.”

  “Who’s Kitara?”

  “My lover.”

  Celdorn startled. “Little one, I’m confused.” He gently held her face to help orient her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Elena’s eyes focused on Celdorn. She blinked a few times and stared hard at him. Then she slowly scanned the room. When her gaze returned to him, he asked, “Do you know where you are?”

  “In the bathing room. But why am I here?” She looked down at the bloody water in the basin and her soiled shirt on the ground.

  As he saw clarity returning, Celdorn let go of her face. “Do you remember now?”

  She nodded. “There was a man in the practice arena. I hurt him.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I-I cut off his ... manhood.” Her gaze drifted again.

  Celdorn swallowed a gasp. “How?”

  “With my dagger.”

  Stunned, he shook his head and patted her arm. “You can tell me more about what happened when we rejoin the others.” He hesitated, not sure how much to press her at this point. “Little one ... who is Kitara?”

  Her gaze shifted to the side, and she tilted her head. A look of horror swept across her face, and she stared back at Celdorn. “How do you know about Kitara?”

  “You mentioned her.”

  Elena put her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide. “What else did I say?” she whispered.

  Celdorn hesitated. “You said you ... killed her. That she was your ... your lover.”

  She gasped and raised her other hand to her mouth as the color drained from her face.

  “Elena?”

  She closed her eyes. “It’s one of those horrible memories that are always there, at the edge of my mind, like lurking shadows. But when you said her name, I saw the images clearly.” She buried her face in her hands. “I can’t believe I told you.”

  “I still don’t understand. Was this someone from the camp?”

  “From the camp and ... other places.”

  “Why did you kill her?”

  “I was forced to.”

  “But why did they want her dead?”

  “Because she was planning to run away. She was going to tell the priest.” Elena peeked over her hands. “Do you remember the second day I was here, I told you about a girl who died because of information Anakh got from my mind? That was Kitara.”

  “And she was your ... lover?”

  She blushed and shut her eyes again. “She was ...” Elena flinched and swatted at her ears. Celdorn sensed an escalating internal conflict. Then her jaw tightened, and she opened her eyes. They were no longer green. Someone else was with her. “She was a girl ...” Elena faltered and her eyes changed color again. In their depths was a plea for u
nderstanding. “They often put me with her, forcing us to do ... things for them to watch. They didn’t allow us to talk to each other, but we found ways. We grew to love each other and found solace in each other’s arms.” Elena covered her face. “I’m sure that sounds horrible to you, but ...”

  Celdorn’s heart broke for his daughter. He lowered her trembling hands, so she could see his expression. “On the contrary, little one, it is understandable. You had so little love in your world.”

  She took a shaky breath. “I’m horrified that I mentioned her, that you know.”

  “Do not fear, little one. It changes nothing.” He stroked her cheek. “Did the blood today remind you of her death?”

  “Yes, it was brutal ... blood everywhere.”

  “Did you feel somehow responsible?”

  Her body shook violently. “I-I wielded the knife.” She looked into Celdorn’s eyes as if begging for further mercy. In a nearly inaudible whisper, she added, “I slit her throat.”

  Celdorn fought to conceal his shock. Elena was so young, so gentle; he couldn’t imagine an impetus strong enough to drive her to cut someone’s throat. He took a long, slow breath. “Would you have done it if you had not been coerced?”

  “Never!” Her answer was immediate, emphatic. “I loved her. It ripped out what was left of my heart. Much of me died with her.” Elena stopped and swallowed hard as tears welled. “They wanted me to slice her open from neck to groin while she was still alive. Instead, I slit her throat to quicken her death. They had already tortured her terribly.” She paused, trying to suck in air. “I was punished severely for my disobedience.” Her focus slipped away again.

  “Elena, come back.” Celdorn cradled her face in his hands, and her gaze moved to meet his. “Her blood is not on your hands, little one. It is on the hands of those who controlled yours.” He traced her cheekbones with his thumbs, willing peace into her. “How old were you when this happened?”

  Her eyes flicked to the side. “Thirteen, maybe fourteen.”

  A knot formed in Celdorn’s stomach, appalled by the horrors she’d lived through. “So young—too young to be responsible, too young to have to carry such burdens.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “Oh, little one, how I wish I could heal these deep wounds.”

  With that brief touch, Celdorn realized Elena was on the verge of collapse. He moved the basin and pulled her into his arms. The love he felt for her burrowed deeper, twisting his gut as the roots took hold.

  Elena leaned into him, body quaking. “I-I was never allowed to weep for her. They defiled and burned her body, and there was no one to defend her, no one to lament.”

  “You lamented. You held her memory inside, and you grieved in the only way you could. Now you are free to weep as much as you need to.” He found himself rocking as he spoke. “No one here will punish or shame you for your tears. Kitara deserves to be mourned.”

  “No,” she whispered, her hands clenched in fists. “If I start, they’ll never stop.”

  “It’s all right, little one. They’ll stop; it may take a while, but they always do.” Celdorn’s arms tightened around her as they continued to sway.

  Elena buried her face in his tunic as she lost the battle. Sobs rose from deep in her belly. Sobs that shook her frame. “Kitara, I’m so sorry,” she murmured into his chest. “I did love you. I’m so so sorry.” A long pause. “If only I had died with my little brother. If-if only I had never been born.”

  “No, little one, no. It wasn’t your fault. Kitara knows that. She wouldn’t want you to carry this guilt.” He stroked Elena’s hair, wishing he had the power to dispense light. All he could do was wait and whisper tender words while she released the pain that had been buried for so long.

  After some time, she grew still. Elena slumped in his arms, exhausted.

  “I’m so sorry, little one, and so proud of you.”

  Elena pulled back and stared up at him as if he had lost his mind. “How can you be proud of what I did?”

  Celdorn cleared his throat and spoke in a harsh whisper, hoping he could explain this without hurting Elena further. “You showed mercy to your friend at the risk of great pain to yourself. You, who had never known mercy or kindness, found it within you to sacrifice yourself in order to spare her a slow, agonizing death.”

  Elena tilted her head and blinked hard. Her gaze went distant and her lips moved. Celdorn wondered if she was talking to someone inside. He pulled her back into his chest and waited.

  Sometime later she stirred again. “Thank you,” she whispered, her words muffled by his shirt.

  Celdorn kissed the top of her head, then let out a heavy sigh. “Are you ready to return to the others?”

  “No.”

  “You may rest soon; I promise. But before you do, I’d like to speak with you and Silvandir about the man you encountered today. Do you think you can manage that?”

  She gave a tiny nod.

  Celdorn stood and held out his hand. Elena grasped it limply. But as she rose, the room swayed and the ground beneath her feet seemed to roll like a wave. Elena slumped onto the bench and gripped her head. “I need to wait for things to stop moving.” She hoped her stomach would not lose its contents before then. After a few minutes, she tried again. This time she moved less quickly and allowed Celdorn to brace her arms. When she was sure she was steady, she nodded and stepped over the bench.

  “When these memories come, it’s difficult to find my way back into my body. I feel as if I’m crossing a wobbly hanging bridge. It’s the strangest sensation.”

  ~

  The men were gathered around Tobil, examining his arm, and engrossed in a loud debate when Celdorn and Elena returned to his chamber. Seeing the girl, they immediately quieted.

  Sasha jumped up from her place beside the hearth and charged at Elena. The girl braced for the impact and crossed her arms to cover her face as the dog mercilessly licked her cheeks. She let out a giggle, then a deep laugh. The sound warmed Celdorn’s heart. He was so grateful for the bond that had developed between them.

  “Enough, Sasha,” Celdorn said as he pushed the dog back. “It’s not as if you never see the girl.” He directed Elena toward the table, and Sasha fell in line behind them.

  Celdorn took his place at the end with Elena to his left. Sasha plopped her head in the girl’s lap as if laying claim to her. The others settled into their seats.

  Silvandir and Braiden had waited in his room, along with Elbrion, Haldor, Tobil and Mikaelin, who had been there for the earlier meeting. The others had dispersed.

  Celdorn asked Elena to explain exactly what had transpired in the practice arena. When she told them how she’d used her dagger on the stranger, Celdorn saw surprise and an undisguised admiration around the table.

  “I don’t quite remember doing it. It was like I was in a fog. While my actions may have been precise and direct, my thoughts were not.”

  “I’d be amazed to see what would happen if you were thinking clearly as well,” Tobil said. “You would no doubt be a formidable opponent.”

  “Do you know who this man is?” Celdorn asked.

  “I don’t recognize his face. If I’d truly been with him, I don’t recall it. But then, there were so many men, their faces became indistinguishable, and rarely were their faces the focus of my attention.”

  There was an uncomfortable shifting around the table. Elena didn’t seem to realize how blunt and devoid of feeling her comments sometimes were.

  “Did he give any indication as to how he knew your father was still alive?”

  “No, he just said I should have realized he couldn’t be killed.”

  “Is he from your village?”

  “I don’t think so. Rhamal’s not that big. I know most of the people, though perhaps not by name.”

  “Are you always able to recognize those who are disguised?”

  Elena considered. “I don’t know. I often saw my father as himself when others couldn’t seem to recognize him. The same was
true with my grandmother. Sometimes others would say they didn’t see her even though she was plainly there. But I don’t know if that is always the case with other people.”

  “Silvandir, is there anything you noticed? Or you, Braiden?” Celdorn asked.

  “The stranger was clearly insolent and not easily intimidated. In spite of being surrounded by Guardians, he was defiant and arrogant,” Silvandir replied.

  “Then he will learn some humility before he dies.” Celdorn rose. “I will speak with him now. Elbrion, I want you to accompany me. Elena, you stay here with the men.” He heard a tail thumping. “And Sasha,” he added with a smile.

  ~

  Celdorn returned over an hour later, a dark scowl on his face. Elbrion’s light pulsed dim and slow as he followed Celdorn into the room. Panic flared in Elena as soon as she saw them.

  “Were you able to obtain any information?” Silvandir asked as he rose from the chair beside Elena.

  “Yes,” Celdorn said without looking at Silvandir. His attention was fully on Elena. He knelt in front of her and took both her hands in his. She stopped breathing. Holding her gaze, Celdorn spoke in the gentlest tone she’d ever heard him use.

  “I’m so sorry to tell you this, little one. Your father is alive.”

  Chapter 5

  Elena sagged in the chair, deathly pale. “You’re sure of this?” she whispered as she wrapped her arms around Sasha’s neck and pulled her closer.

  “Yes, little one,” Celdorn replied. “Domar is alive, and he’s stirring up trouble.”

  “The stranger admitted that to you?” Silvandir asked. He had posted himself next to Elena’s shoulder, arms crossed, legs spread as if braced for the worst.

  “No, he volunteered nothing. Elbrion was forced to travel in his twisted mind to find the truth.”

  Elena’s eyes filled with fear. “What kind of trouble?”

  “Apparently, he’s hiding in Penumbra. Domar is the one responsible for the infestation of Zakad. He apparently has some connections with the red wizards in the east, who breed the Zakad and keep them like pets. Hundreds of those vile creatures have been sent out and instructed to attack any Yadari, Barqelon, or Guardians found on the roads, as well as to bring any children they find to the pleasure markets in Penumbra, where they will be trained and sold. Domar did this without Anakh’s permission or knowledge, as a challenge to her authority.