Shattered by Shadows: The Innocence Cycle, Book 1 Page 6

  When she stared back at him, his eyes softened, almost pleading with her. He seemed sincere, but she’d been fooled before. Maybe all the Morah worked for Anakh too. They certainly didn’t do anything to stop her.

  “Are you able to speak?”

  She held his gaze then gave a stiff nod.

  “Will you answer my questions?”

  She feared what he might do to her if she didn’t, but was also afraid of what might happen if she did. Having no way to measure this man, she couldn’t decide which was more dangerous, paralyzing her. Sasha snuggled in closer and Elena found herself stroking the dog’s floppy ears.

  Celdorn’s brow furrowed, and he turned to Elbrion. “Any suggestions?”

  Elbrion stood and stepped to the head of the bed. She watched him, measuring his every fluid motion. Sasha perked up her ears but didn’t move. Even in the glare of the afternoon sun coming in through the windows, he shone brightly. Elbrion hesitated when he approached as if to ask permission. Giara didn’t object, so he placed his hand on the side of her face, careful to avoid the injured areas. He spoke in his native tongue—or was he singing? She was wary but didn’t shrink from his touch, finding his unintelligible words somehow soothing. Warmth entered her body, her thumping heart slowed, and the fear subsided. The constant, chaotic movement inside her head ceased, and all was quiet.

  When Elbrion removed his hand, Celdorn was staring at the troubled expression that shadowed his face. Giara wondered what had happened to him. Elbrion’s light pulsed differently—slower, dimmer.

  He sat down.

  “Let’s try again,” Celdorn said. “What’s your name?”

  “Giara.” Her voice was raspy. She’d been quiet for so long, she’d almost forgotten what her voice sounded like. “But I like the name you gave me better, my lord.” She made sure to let him know she knew her place.

  Celdorn chuckled. “You don’t need to call me lord. Among my companions, we aren’t nearly so formal. Celdorn will do. And you may be addressed however you like.”

  “I prefer Elena, sir. What does it mean?”

  Celdorn’s face softened. He was actually quite handsome when he smiled, and not nearly so intimidating. “It means little light. It's Elnar, the language Elbrion speaks.” He nodded toward his companion.

  She pondered this. “I like it.”

  “What does Giara mean?”

  “Useful,” she said with a grimace. “I’d rather be Elena, sir.”

  “Then Elena it is.” He gave a quick nod. “And you can stop with the sirs; it's really not necessary. May I ask how old you are?”

  Her mind immediately swirled. It was an easy question, but she couldn’t seem to find the answer. Her heart thumped again. The room wavered, and she heard what sounded like doors opening and closing in her head. Her eyes couldn’t seem to focus on anything.

  Answer, a sharp voice demanded.

  And she knew. “Seventeen, or close to it.”

  “Where’s your home?”

  Her muscles tightened. “Will you return me there?”

  Please say no. Please. They’ll punish me, a tiny voice whimpered.

  Sasha’s tongue bathed her hands while Celdorn studied her. “Not if you don’t want us to.”

  She shook her head, ever so slightly.

  “Then we will provide a safe place for you.”

  Don’t believe it. This voice screamed.

  “Rhamal,” she answered, ignoring the warning. “It's one of the Wallanard villages.”

  Fool!

  She swatted at her ears. When Elbrion noticed and gave her a quizzical look, she clasped her hands in her lap.

  “I know Rhamal. I’ve been there many times.” Celdorn scratched the unkempt beard on his cheek. “The camp we found you in was ten leagues from your village. How did you come to be so far from home?”

  She felt a hand grip her throat. “I can't tell you.”

  “Do you not know? Or do you choose not to tell?”

  Her voice came out a mousy whisper. “I know, but I'm not allowed to speak of it.”

  “Who has forbidden it?”

  A whip snapped in her mind. A child gasped for breath. Sasha growled and nudged at her hands.

  “You may speak freely, Elena. No one here will punish you,” Elbrion broke in.

  She glanced at him, frightened by his insight.

  Celdorn’s brows pulled together. “Who doesn’t want you to speak?” His body tensed, and his hand curled into a fist. She knew she had better answer.

  She glanced at Elbrion first. “M-my father.”

  “But he’s not here to know.”

  “Oh, he’ll know. He always knows.”

  “What will happen if you disobey him?”

  “I’ll be punished.”

  Just then, there was a knock, and the men with whom they’d traveled entered. Elbrion motioned for them to be quiet and sit in the meeting area.

  Elena cringed inside. These men were so big, and there were so many. She was too exhausted to manage this number in one night. Her arms wrapped around Sasha’s head, hugging her closer. The dog seemed more than happy to comply.

  “How does your father punish you?” Celdorn asked, tipping her chin toward him, pulling her attention away from the other men.

  She could not meet the gaze of his too-demanding eyes. “It depends on what I’ve done.”

  “Elena, how are you punished?” Celdorn’s tone was harsh; he wanted answers.

  She glanced at Elbrion. He nodded, giving her an encouraging smile. She opened her mouth to answer then froze. Her body started to shake as knotted lashes whipped her skin, and the crack of cudgels jarred her bones. She curled away from the men as her body throbbed with warning pain. “I can’t,” she whispered.

  Sasha inched closer and snuggled into Elena, whimpering. She buried her face in the dog’s soft fur, grateful for her solidness and warmth, which kept Elena safely in the present.

  “All right,” Celdorn said. “I won’t force you to say more, but rest assured that whatever was done to you will not be repeated here.”

  When Elena found the courage to pull back from Sasha, she looked around the room and noted the men’s dark expressions. Somehow she had angered them, though she didn’t know what she could have done. Maybe they already knew about the punishments.

  “Sir, I’m sorry if I’ve upset you and your men. I-I’m not a bad person.” Her gaze shifted from man to man, trying to read the situation. “I just...find it difficult to obey sometimes. I try, but I’m not always...able to cooperate.” She looked directly at Celdorn, her chin quivering.

  Celdorn grimaced and grabbed up the front of his tunic in a fist. He swallowed hard as if bile rose in his throat, sickened by her weakness and lame words. Elena’s mind raced. She could only think of one thing to salvage the situation—the one thing she was too tired and broken to do.

  The Lord Protector took a few deep breaths, restraining his anger. “You’ve done no wrong, Elena.” His voice was unexpectedly soft. “We’re saddened and disturbed by how you’ve been treated. It is clear you were severely punished by your father, enough to render you mute. No child deserves to be disciplined in such a manner, even if he were a total reprobate.”

  Words. Just words. Meaningless. Twistable.

  The room tilted. Elena gripped the bed as if that might somehow keep her head from swimming in the foggy sea that had developed.

  “Did your father know the Farak took you?”

  “He gave me to them.” The answer slipped out before she could stop it.

  Celdorn jolted like she had struck him. “He gave you to the Farak? Your father did?”

  “Yes, in exchange for money.”

  “He...sold you?”

  “Yes.” Why did he think this so odd? Surely he knew how the world worked, being a man of means and all.

  “When did you leave home?”

  She hesitated. The fog grew thicker. “A week ago, maybe more.”

  “Were they p
lanning to take you to the mountains to live with them?”

  “No. They just bought me for the week then they were to return me.”

  “So your father sold you to these men so you could cook and keep the camp for them?”

  “No. I was to service their personal needs.” As I’m sure you will expect me to do for all of you, she thought but didn’t dare say aloud.

  Celdorn didn’t respond. He just gawked at her, the look of disgust back on his face.

  Elbrion broke in. “Elena, Celdorn is trying to understand the arrangement. He does not realize that you have been trained as a gille d’zhajh and that your father has sold you many times.”

  “A what?”

  “A pleasure giver, trained to perform sexual acts with those to whom you are sold.”

  “Oh.” Her gaze dropped, and the fog swirled. “Yes, that’s true.”

  In the hollow silence that followed, she peeked up at Celdorn and found him staring at Elbrion, the scowl deepening on his face. He glanced toward the other men, who had begun to fidget and move about. They were all revolted by what she'd revealed. Perhaps they had truly believed she was just some innocent kidnapped by the Farak. Her face burned, and she squirmed, trying to think of a way to keep these men from disposing of her.

  She lifted her gaze to meet Elbrion’s as hurt clutched at her heart. “How did you know that?” She'd thought he was kind, but he had exposed her.

  “When I touched your face, I learned many things about you. I saw memories inside your mind.”

  Elena gasped and covered her mouth. What else had he seen? She felt like a boat cut loose at sea. The bed rolled beneath her, and she couldn’t find her bearings.

  Elbrion touched her arm. “Do not fear; I did not look far.”

  She felt the color drain from her face as she gripped the blankets. Her eyes flitted, searching, searching. In the murkiness, she heard feet scuffling, doors slamming, whispered warnings. Lost at sea in a netherworld, she couldn’t bring her mind back to Celdorn’s room. She didn’t want to. Her eyes eased to a stop, and the damaged lids grew so heavy she couldn’t lift them.

  Celdorn’s voice came from far away. “Elena, since Dalgo’s here now, I'm going to have him examine your injuries. I need to speak with Elbrion in the other room.”

  A new panic rose, and her eyes snapped opened. They were going to discuss how to get rid of her. What type of end her repugnant life deserved. Perhaps Anakh was waiting in that room, would question them and demand her death.

  “We’ll return shortly.” Celdorn patted her hand as he spoke, gently, kindly. Maybe he was noble enough to feel bad about having to execute her. “Bria, Sasha, come,” he called to the dogs. Bria followed immediately. Sasha hesitated, looking back at Elena. “Sasha, now.” Celdorn’s voice was firm, and the dog jumped from the bed and trotted after him.

  Elena shivered, already missing the warmth of her only ally.

  Dalgo approached the bed. He didn’t seem to want to touch her and did so as little as possible. His hands shook as he moved from place to place, explaining in a tight voice what he was doing.

  She wanted to tell him she was injured, not dangerous; she didn’t have the pox or flux or anything contagious, unless depravity was transmittable. Maybe it was. Perhaps he was wise not to have much contact.

  While Dalgo reluctantly took care of her, Celdorn and Elbrion slipped through the door to the small room off Celdorn’s chamber and closed it behind them.

  A door slammed and bolted in her chest as well, locking out possibility.

  Chapter 8

  “Tell me what you know,” Celdorn demanded of Elbrion just as one of the dogs darted in front of him, knocking him sideways. “Sasha!”

  The dog raced away chasing Bria, which was probably a good thing. The mood he was in, he might have kicked her, and she didn’t deserve that. She was a sweet dog, young and energetic, but full of love. He heaved a breath and redirected his thoughts as they reached Elbrion’s room. “What did you see when you touched the girl?”

  “It would take me hours to explain what I have seen.” Elbrion stood behind a chair at his table, a smaller version of the one in Celdorn’s chamber, gripping the ornate wood. “Elena has an elaborate and vivid internal world, more so than any other person I have been inside. Her inner landscape has been different each time I touch her, as if she were completely different people. The first time it was a constantly shifting maze of corridors, full of doors and voices screaming. The second time it was a torture chamber consumed with the sensations of repeated death; I felt as if I myself were dying. And this time, it was like a mirror that had been shattered; on each of a hundred broken pieces there was an image of a rape, a beating, or a death. There was blood on everything and terror woven among them all.”

  “Can you make any sense of it?”

  “Very little. I cannot bear to remain long enough to do so. Suffice it to say, she has been tortured and vilely used for years.”

  Celdorn’s frown deepened. “What is this girl? How can she change forms in this manner? And what is happening when the air wavers around her or her eyes change color? It’s like she almost shifts, but doesn’t.” He held up his hands, at a loss. “How is any of that possible?”

  “I have been pondering those very questions, and I have no answers. The Alraphim have not been seen on Qabara since the Nasara, and what I recall of that lore is nothing like what we are seeing with Elena. She seems to shift with her emotions, though she appears to be unaware of it, confused by it. She also projects her feelings outside herself with the strength of a catapult. Twice I felt as if I had been physically struck by their potency. I am an adept empath, but I have never felt anything like it.

  “I have also heard things which I believe are coming from inside her mind—doors slamming, voices shouting, whips cracking. I do not usually hear people’s thoughts unless I am walking in their memories, but I heard this clearly although I several feet from her. At other times, her body seems no more than an empty shell through which she speaks from some distant place.”

  “Weren’t the Alraphim the original Guardians…magnificent, powerful beings?”

  “That is my understanding.”

  “How could this young, terrified girl be a Rahima?” Celdorn began to pace. “But how else do we explain it?” He argued with himself. “I'm out of my realm of experience here even without the shifter element.” Bria joined Celdorn as he plodded back and forth, staying at his heel. “I know nothing about girls or young women. I command men. Day and night, I'm surrounded by men. I’ve never been a father. I have no mother, no sisters. How do we help her?”

  “We already have. She will no longer be terrorized and misused.”

  Celdorn paused in his movement, nodding. “You're right. She’s safe here. But I’m just so... I feel such... Ahh!” He focused his mounting frustration on the nearest chair, kicking it across the floor. Both dogs yelped and sat where they were, ears sagging as they watched him.

  “This is not supposed to happen. Not here. Not since the Nasara. To the east, perhaps. In Penumbra, most likely. But this is the Shalamhar, the protected realm. We are under the Qarhelon. We are beyond such things.” He began to move again. “Here, we are supposed to cherish children as our future, educate them, nurture them, protect them. If a family is in need of coin or supplies, they need only come to us or to the Doqajh of Light for assistance. A child need never be sold in order for the family to survive. Not here. How could her family not know that? It has been this way for a millennium.” Celdorn shook his head as he paced. “Her own father? How could he sell his daughter to strangers? How can he face himself when he sees the scars on her body? How—” He stopped and glared at Elbrion. “Aren’t you angered by this? You look so...placid.” He spat the last word. Bria and Sasha trotted to his side and licked his fisted hands.

  Elbrion’s brows went up. He straightened and met Celdorn’s glare, lifting his chin. “I feel great anger, but I choose not to misdirect it on chairs an
d innocent friends.” His cool gaze doused Celdorn’s fire. Sasha inched toward Elbrion and nudged his hand, which he lay on her head. “I also have other strong emotions stirring. There is a sadness emanating from the girl that has invaded my being. It is so intense, I could weep for days. I also feel as if the Jhadhela has been disrupted in me.”

  Celdorn eyed his friend. “I saw the shadows pass through you. Still, you never cease to amaze me. You stand here so serene.”

  “There is much you do not see.” Elbrion looked away, and Sasha leaned her big head into him, gazing up at him with such tenderness. Elbrion stroked her ears. “As for the girl, she is a master at deception. She is keeping up a strong facade while, in fact, she is terrified, full of grief, and wearier than any child her age ought to be. She is constantly reading us, attempting to give us exactly what we want, so that we will not harm or dispose of her. She believes we are like every man she has ever known, and she is now our possession to use at will.”

  “What?” Celdorn was horrified. “I thought I made it clear we want to help her.”

  “She does not believe you. Why would she?”

  Celdorn shook his head and resumed pacing. “You're right. Why would she?” He rubbed his temples as he walked, an intense headache forming. “What do I do? How do I convince her?”

  Elbrion put his hand on Celdorn’s shoulder, stopping him. “We cannot convince her with words. We must work to gain her trust, which will be no small task. It will require time and consistency in our dealings with her. One day she will understand. For now, let the girl lead us. She will tell as much as she feels safe to tell.”

  Chapter 9

  Elena could almost hear the gallows being built.

  When Celdorn and Elbrion returned, their faces were grim. Her stomach twisted, and she fought to hold its contents down. It wouldn’t help her cause to vomit on the Lord Protector’s bed. Sasha reclaimed her place on the bed next to Elena and nudged her hand until she stroked her soft ears.