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

  A company of one hundred Guardians would be clearly visible from a great distance on the flat prairie that lay before them, and the pass was an ideal place for an ambush. Their enemies would have ample time to prepare a concentrated assault if they were seen approaching. Celdorn hoped they were not.

  ~

  Elena spent most of the day with Sasha by her side, either sitting near the fire, staring at the flames, or on the balcony, gazing at the mountain peaks. She spoke little and refused to eat. The men encouraged her to do her training, but she was unwilling. She assured them that tomorrow would be better, and she would again be able to focus.

  For today, Elena just wanted to be left alone with Sasha, though she was never truly allowed to be by herself. The men were faithful in guarding her every movement. Haldor had reminded them that no place was to be considered safe or impenetrable.

  Elena chose to retire early that evening. Haldor assigned Silvandir and Mikaelin to sleep in front of the doors to the balcony in Celdorn’s room. Braiden was placed inside the door leading to the hall. Haldor, Dalgo, and Tobil took the same positions in Elbrion’s room. They drew the curtains around Celdorn’s bed to give Elena what privacy they could.

  As she lay there, stroking Sasha’s ears, unable to close her eyes, Elena envisioned Celdorn and Elbrion asleep under the open stars and hoped they found more peace this night than she.

  ~

  The Guardians set up camp near the Chiwala River halfway between Neldon and the Gap. There was open prairie for miles around, covered by new blades of wild grasses swaying in the chilly evening breeze. Few trees were visible. As the sun set, Celdorn noted the great beauty and serenity of this area. He would have enjoyed it immensely under other circumstances, but his heart was restless this night. He longed to know what lay ahead and wondered what was happening back at the keep.

  He met with Elbrion, Zarandiel and Shatur to plan strategies for the next day, though there were so many unknowns it was difficult to prepare. He finally sent all the men to bed, knowing they would need the rest for whatever tomorrow might bring.

  As he lay on his bedroll, Celdorn envisioned himself singing Elena to sleep, whispering words of love to her that he prayed the wind would carry to her ears.

  Chapter 8

  Elena’s night was miserable. She tossed and turned, unable to relax into a deep sleep. In the morning, she was more exhausted than before she’d slept. Her eyes felt like they were sagging onto her cheeks.

  “Did you have a rough night?” Silvandir inquired as they sat at table

  “It was all right.”

  “Were you having bad dreams? You cried out frequently.”

  “I’m fine, Silvandir. Stop treating me as if I were some fragile creature. I can manage my own sleeping and my own waking.”

  Elena said this more loudly than she intended, and all of the men turned to look at her. “I’m fine, everyone. You can stop worrying about me,” she snapped, before she got up and stormed out to the balcony with Sasha on her heels.

  “Mikaelin, Braiden, follow her,” she heard Haldor say.

  As they came onto the terrace, Elena groaned. “Are you my shadows? I don’t need a guard; I’ve got Sasha.” Though Sasha had already dashed down the steps to chase a rabbit in the gardens below. “Can I have no privacy whatsoever?”

  “N-not until C-Celdorn returns,” Braiden replied. “Th-those were his orders.”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  “One of the first lessons we teach at Kelach is that none of us is to stand alone. We’re to guard each other’s backs with our very lives,” Mikaelin said.

  “Somehow I missed that lesson in my upbringing. I learned I have to take care of myself because no one else will.”

  “B-but you’re learning d-differently now,” Braiden said gently.

  Elena glared at him but said no more. She stepped to the balustrade and watched Sasha plow between shrubs to catch a brown rabbit that lived there. It eluded her, taking refuge in a thicket behind the yellow rosebush. The gardener shooed Sasha away before she damaged the fragile blossoms.

  “Will we do training in Celdorn’s room this morning?” she asked.

  “N-not until y-you eat,” Braiden replied.

  She glared at him again. “I’m fully capable of knowing when and if I require food.”

  “You c-can’t train when you haven’t eaten. Your m-mind gets sluggish, and you’re a d-danger to yourself and others. Th-that is another lesson w-we learn at Kelach.”

  She felt the irrational urge to rip Braiden’s head off.

  “Elena, why are you so angry this morning?” Mikaelin asked. “Did we do something to offend you?”

  She took a deep breath and let it out in a huff. “No. It’s not you, any of you.” She waved dismissive hand. “My mind is tormented this morning. Something dark pursues me, and I feel ...harassed.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No.” Her gaze went to the eagles far above them. “Not yet, anyway.”

  “If you come inside and eat something, I’d be happy to train with you and give you opportunity to vent your aggression,” Mikaelin offered with a sideways smile.

  “A chance to beat you relentlessly does sound appealing.” Elena laughed, though it felt hollow. “I take it we’ll work on hand-to-hand combat then.”

  Mikaelin chuckled. “I may live to regret my words.”

  ~

  Mikaelin and Braiden accompanied Elena to Celdorn’s chamber to speak with Tobil. The girl was particularly interested in working on intuitive skills, an ability Mikaelin had never acquired.

  Tobil was still at table with Haldor and Silvandir, who wore a worried frown as they approached.

  “Will you teach me more about how to use my intuitive abilities for weaponless fighting?” Elena asked Tobil.

  The burly weapons master rose, straight and tall, and gazed down at her with an affectionate smile.

  “It would be my pleasure and honor after all you have restored to me.” He held out his left arm and flexed his fist.

  During Tobil’s last encounter with Elena in the training arena, something had happened to reawaken Tobil’s deadened limb. Within a day, full function had returned, and slowly he had rebuilt the muscles and coordination he’d lost. Tobil was convinced it was Elena’s healing touch that had revived it.

  “It’s good to see some spunk returning to those green eyes,” Tobil said with a playful wink. “Anything I can do to help you gain more confidence and reach your full potential would bring me great joy.”

  They moved to the open area in Celdorn’s chamber where Elena had first begun her training. In preparation, Mikaelin and Elena left their weapons and boots along the wall. Tobil positioned the girl in the center and told her to close her eyes. He pulled Mikaelin to the side for brief instructions before placing him opposite Elena to serve as her “attacker.” Mikaelin felt a flutter of misgiving at Tobil’s plan, but trusted the weapons master to recognize Elena’s limits.

  The girl waited, tense as a rabbit who’d caught wind of a wolf. Mikaelin circled. Elena’s head jerked with each of his movements, no matter how tiny or silent he made them.

  “Focus on what you sense, not what you hear. See Mikaelin with your mind’s eye. Your ears will fail you.”

  Elena stiffened a second before Mikaelin grabbed her throat with one hand. She gasped, but managed to keep her eyes closed. The girl clasped her hands together and struck at his arm to knock it to the side. Mikaelin held fast, mindful not to injure her. Elena attempted to kick then push him away, but his reach was too long. She clawed at his fingers and tried to twist out of his grip. All proved equally ineffectual. Her movements grew random and chaotic.

  Mikaelin wished someone else had volunteered for this training. He was sharing in Elena’s fear more than he should have been. Although he strengthened his internal guards, her panic hammered them like a battering ram.

  Tobil moved with them as Mikaelin forced Elena to dance
around the floor. “Master the fear.” His voice boomed, as if to break through her terror by sheer volume.

  Silvandir paced at the edge of the training arena, his jaw tight, fists clenched.

  Mikaelin drove Elena back until she was up against the wall. Instead of fighting, her body went slack. This was not what he or Tobil had anticipated.

  “Fear paralyzes you,” the weapons master said. “Release the anger that wants to fight for your life, Elena.”

  Being careful to hold her jaw and not damage her throat, Mikaelin slowly lifted Elena up until she was on the tips of her toes. Sasha barked in the background. The dog’s paws skittered on the flagstone floor as Silvandir pulled her back.

  Come on, Elena, Mikaelin cheered her on silently. Fight.

  When Elena continued to hang limply, Tobil put his mouth close to her ear. “Take back your life, Elena. You have great strength, use it. Now!”

  Elena’s form suddenly darkened. Her muscles rippled into taut cords. Her hands latched onto Mikaelin’s arms as she pressed her back into the wall. Mikaelin was so engrossed in watching the transformation, he didn’t notice her pulling her knees up. Elena planted her feet against his chest, and using the wall for leverage, shoved him away with surprising force. He skittered backwards and landed hard on his rear.

  With her eyes still closed, Elena dropped to the floor and assumed a fighter’s stance, hands curled into fists. Sasha’s barking grew frantic.

  Mikaelin shook his head at his own stupidity and turned over to get to his feet. Soft footfalls sounded behind him. “Watch out!” Silvandir called as something struck his back and sent him sprawling forward. A scuffle broke out. When he spun around, Elena was just a few feet away from him, face down on the floor with Tobil’s knee on her back and her hand twisted behind. The clatter of a dagger hitting the ground was drowned out by Sasha’s anxious yelps. A chill ran through Mikaelin as he stared at the naked blade.

  “I should be more careful with my words,” Tobil said. “I wasn’t encouraging you to kill Mikaelin, merely to block his attack.” When her body went slack, the weapons master eased his grip. “Is it safe to let you up now?”

  The color of Elena’s hair lightened as she returned to herself1. “Yes,” she replied, her tone meek.

  Tobil stood and offered his hand. Elena rolled over, her face clouded with confusion. She allowed the weapons master to assist her in standing. Sasha pulled free of Silvandir and charged at Elena, nearly knocking the girl to the ground again. Elena received a profuse tongue-washing before pushing the dog back.

  Elena glanced between Mikaelin and Tobil. “What did I do? The last thing I remember is being held against the wall.”

  “Well you definitely moved out of the fear and into the anger,” Mikaelin said as he picked himself up off the floor and rubbed his neck. The blow to his back had wrenched his spine, sending sparks of pain up and down its length.

  “Why was I pinned on the floor?” Elena asked.

  Tobil patted her shoulder. “You took me a little too literally when I encouraged you to fight for your life. You attacked Mikaelin with your dagger.”

  Elena stepped behind Sasha and hugged her neck. “I-I thought we weren’t using weapons.”

  “That was my understanding as well. Apparently, you have more anger than I realized. I think it’s best we not continue today.” Tobil studied Elena carefully then glanced at Haldor.

  “What if I can’t learn to control this angry part of me? What if I kill someone next time?” Her eyes shot to Mikaelin. “Did I hurt you?”

  “Nothing but my pride. And maybe my back,” he added as he massaged the lower muscles. “I’m just glad Tobil was anticipating your actions. I had lowered my guard and turned away. You could easily have run me through. Remind me never to taunt you again.”

  Elena’s shoulders sagged. “What’s wrong with me?” She hugged Sasha closer, burying her face in the dog’s fur.

  Mikaelin felt like a cad. “Oh, Elena, I was just joking. I don’t really think you would have hurt me.”

  Haldor approached and laid a hand on the girl’s head. “There is an angry warrior inside of you. We need to help you find ways to release that anger without hurting anyone in the process, including yourself.” When she looked up at him with distress, he added, “Let me consider this. I will discuss it with Tobil, and together we will find an answer, Yabéha. Do not fear.”

  ~

  Elena spent the remainder of the morning sullen and withdrawn, so confused about what was happening. Much of her life she’d experienced shifts, but no one had ever explained what happened during the times she didn’t remember—until she came to Kelach. She didn’t know if having the information was better or worse. She cared deeply for Mikaelin and didn’t understand why she would try to hurt him. She was so thankful Tobil stopped her.

  Mikaelin approached her later as she sat by the fire with Sasha. “Are you all right?”

  “No, I feel horrible. I’m wondering what evil lives in me that induces me to do such terrible things.”

  “It seems reasonable to me that you would have a great deal of rage after all that has been inflicted upon you. Helplessness breeds rage.” He sat down beside her. “I understand that well from my own life.”

  “Have you done things like cutting off people’s body parts or trying to stab someone without any memory of it?”

  “No, I haven’t done that, but I feel as if a volcano is rumbling inside me most of the time which will one day explode, and someone will receive the full brunt of its force.” He paused. “If I were pinned as you were today, it might cause such an eruption.”

  Elena considered this. “When you first grabbed my neck, all I could see and feel was the time the Rahima entered Silvandir and strangled me, the knife moving toward my throat. I froze, certain I was going to die. That’s all I remember. I don’t know where the fight came from.”

  Mikaelin hung his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “I realized that connection too late. It didn’t occur to me when Tobil suggested the scenario that it would cause you to revisit that ordeal. I’m so sorry.” He reached out his hand as if he would pat her arm, but seemed to think better of it and let it drop to his knee.

  “Well, don’t make the same mistake again, or I may have to kill you next time.” She scowled, hiding a half-grin.

  Mikaelin held up his hands in surrender. “I won’t; I assure you.”

  Elena grew serious again. “Mikaelin ...” She paused until he looked at her. “I’m truly sorry for attacking you. I would never intentionally hurt you. I ...” She looked into his eyes but couldn’t finish the sentence.

  Mikaelin nodded. “I know, and I as well.”

  As they both sat back and stared at the fire, Elena felt a crushing pain move through Mikaelin’s chest. She wondered what that was about.

  Chapter 9

  Later in the afternoon, Elena was on the balcony guarded by Silvandir, Dalgo, and a wandering Sasha. She had spoken little and was sitting on the bench watching birds building nests in a nearby tree. They had worked relentlessly for an hour collecting twigs and grass, their existence so simple.

  Silvandir sat next to her. “They never seem to tire, do they?”

  With a contented sigh, Elena pulled herself out of her self-imposed silence. “I envy the simplicity of their life. They can focus on the one task with all their energy and don’t have to concern themselves with other worries.”

  “Until a predator comes along.”

  Elena turned to him with a frown. “What are you, the voice of doom and gloom?”

  “I prefer to think of it as reality.”

  “Well, I don’t prefer your reality. Let me enjoy the simplicity. I’ve had enough to contend with lately.”

  “I beg your pardon. I will henceforth leave your fantasy world intact.”

  Elena scowled.

  Silvandir leaned back and stretched out his long legs, as if relaxing, but Elena felt something inside him tighten like a coiled rope. “
Do you ever think about that for yourself?”

  “What?”

  “Your future? Building a nest—a home?”

  “No, I’ve never had opportunity to think that far ahead. To be honest, I didn’t expect to live to see twenty.” Her thoughts flitted away as her eyes followed the birds. She felt a deep sadness from Silvandir that pulled her back, and she turned to find him gazing at her, his smile disappearing.

  She sighed again, only this time it was heavy. “If they didn’t kill me, I knew I would surely take my own life eventually. I was at that point when Celdorn and Elbrion found me. I saw no reason for continuing my life as it was.”

  “Have you had time to consider it now?” Silvandir straightened and moved closer to her, an expectancy in his gaze.

  Elena shook her head. “In truth, I keep waiting to awaken from this dream and find myself still in my father’s home ready to be given to yet another group of men.” Silvandir cringed. She glanced at Tobil, who stood ten feet away, acting as if he wasn’t listening, then back at Silvandir. “None of you feels real. Men like you don’t exist except in one’s imagination or the legends of the ancient days.”

  Silvandir laughed. “I’m quite real. I assure you. Though I’m hardly the stuff of an epic hero.”

  “Compared to what I have known, you are the highest saint.”

  Silvandir stopped laughing. “I am no saint.” He looked down, face grim, as a dense, dark grief washed over him. It hit Elena so hard she nearly rocked sideways on the bench.

  He cleared his throat and pushed the wrinkles in his trousers toward his knees. “Would you like to have a home and family of your own someday?”

  “That would only happen in a fantasy world, Silvandir. No man would have me after what I’ve been through. Men want virginity and purity in their partners, though they’re the first to take them away from as many girls as they can.”