Shattered by Shadows: The Innocence Cycle, Book 1 Page 7

  While Dalgo reported to Celdorn, Elena listened with the detached interest of the condemned. If they didn’t kill her, Anakh would. Life as she knew it was over.

  Life? She scoffed at herself. She’d been dead for years. She existed. Nothing more. So what did any of this matter?

  “Her leg is doing as well as can be expected, though she won’t be able to put any weight on it for a few weeks...”

  Weeks? So maybe they weren’t planning to execute her. If not, she needed to find a way to appease them until she could walk again, then she would find a way to escape.

  “...wounds also need to be stitched but, again, not until they’ve been scrubbed.”

  “Thank you, Dalgo. We’ll prepare a bath for her after we finish. I can’t leave things where they are.”

  Dalgo nodded. “I understand.”

  The largest warrior, Silvandir, knocked on the door as he entered. Elena wasn’t pleased to see him. He’d be one more vote against her. Sasha disagreed, thumping her tail enthusiastically at the sound of his voice. Following behind Silvandir was the tense Mikaelin.

  “The girl’s room is ready, Celdorn, and the food will arrive shortly,” Silvandir said.

  Celdorn gave him a quick nod. “Thank you. Have a seat.”

  Silvandir and Mikaelin glanced around at all the solemn faces, puzzled. Soon they too would know what she was, and Silvandir would feel vindicated in his initial assessment of her. He sat at the table while Mikaelin chose the floor, leaning against the wall nearest the door, as far from her as he could get.

  Celdorn returned to the chair by the bed. “Elena, I’m sorry to press you with so many questions, but there are other answers we need.”

  More? She gripped Sasha’s ears until the dog yelped and tugged free.

  “I want to be clear about what you’ve already told us.” His voice was steady but tense, as if trying to control his anger. “Your father sold you to the Farak a week ago so that you could service their needs...sexually?”

  She looked away and nodded.

  “And your father has done this before?”

  She nodded again.

  “How many times?”

  She shrugged. Celdorn waited. “Many.” Elbrion frowned at her. He already knew the answer; he just wanted her to confess it aloud for everyone to hear, so they could feel justified in their punishment. All eyes focused on her, waiting for her to hang herself. “Dozens...hundreds of times. I don’t know,” she snapped. Murmurs echoed through the room. What does it matter? How much evidence do you need to condemn me? she wanted to scream, but knew better. They could still decide to execute her, or worse.

  Celdorn closed his eyes, and Bria laid her head on his knee. His next question came out in a strained whisper. “How old were you when this started?”

  Her heart thumped. Again, a simple question, but it was lost in the swirling muck in her brain. She couldn’t find an answer. “Since I can first remember; since I could walk, I suppose. That’s when they usually begin the training. But I didn’t go to far places when I was small. For some reason, my father was allowed to keep me.”

  Celdorn’s face went red and tight, like he might erupt at any moment and beat her then and there. But, being a self-possessed leader, he maintained control. Apparently, he wasn’t done with his interrogation. “The others you mentioned—the ones who train and punish, who are they?”

  Her face twitched. “I-I can’t tell you that.”

  “Elena, we need to know who they are in order to stop them.”

  “You can’t stop them. No one can.” She turned away and stared off into the distance, wanting so badly to disappear.

  “Why not?”

  Elena didn’t respond; she barely heard him as she searched for one of her internal hiding places, but everything was blocked off.

  Celdorn repeated the question more forcefully. “Elena? Why can’t they be stopped?”

  While the rest of her remained limp, lifeless, her eyes began to move on their own—slowly, evenly, until they locked with Celdorn’s. Sasha gave a low growl, and her hackles went up. Elena heard her own voice from a distance, hollow, haunting, already dead. “Because they have power. They control life and death. They read thoughts, and they can find me anywhere.” Though she was looking him directly in the eye, she felt as if she were seeing him from the far end of a tunnel. “If you kill them, they will just rise up again.” Her voice—or the voice that came out of her mouth—was an eerie, otherworldly whisper. The lanterns in the room flickered, as if to emphasize the words.

  Celdorn sat back in his chair, frowning as he glanced at Elbrion. “What do I say to that?”

  “You speak the truth.” Elbrion turned his attention to Elena and gripped her hand. “No human has that power. They lied to you.” One of his eyebrows arched, and he leaned back.

  “No, I’ve seen it,” she argued, suddenly reanimated. “They killed my brother to punish me, and then they brought him back when I obeyed. I watched him die.” Her voice grew louder and more emphatic, unable to stop herself. “I know dead. He was dead. Now he’s alive.” A fire burned behind her eyes as she held Elbrion’s gaze. “I saw!” She tightened and lifted her jaw in defiance, making it throb.

  Elena didn’t know where those words came from, nor the strength to speak them so brazenly. She didn’t know. She hadn’t seen. Why had she lied? She felt as if she'd become a spectator to her own life again.

  “Elena, they played tricks on you to make you believe them. They lied to you, so they could control you. They were afraid that if you exposed them, they would be stopped. We can stop them but only if you refuse to believe their lies,” Elbrion said, his voice even, his hand reaching toward her, palm down, as if to calm a skittish animal.

  Sasha let out a loud bark just before Elena’s head pulled back and her torso arched and stiffened. Her body convulsed violently, sending her arms and legs flailing. Surges of energy jolted through her, making her head feel as if it might explode. An unearthly, high-pitched wail rose from somewhere, like a dying animal caught in a trap. Sasha sat up on the bed, barking at her.

  Elbrion grasped her head just as her eyes rolled backward. He sang, hesitantly at first, but as his volume grew, the shrieking stopped and her vision returned. His powerful voice filled the chamber, and from a great distance, she watched light pour forth from the rock walls. The entire room erupted in dazzling, pulsating radiance.

  Then something happened that scared the life out of her—or maybe it scared it back into her. Shafts of light burst through the broken places in her flesh. For a brief moment, it was so bright the men covered their eyes and turned away. By the time they looked back, she'd stopped jerking, and the illumination had faded.

  Elbrion removed his hands. He stared at her with something close to...admiration? A look no one had ever given her. “Elena, do you know what just happened?”

  “My body was remembering something.”

  “A time they hurt you?”

  She searched for an answer as Sasha lay next to her, putting her head in Elena’s lap. She clung to the dog. “Y-yes, to make me remember the threat.” Swallowing hard, she willed back the tears that threatened to betray her. “Can we stop, please?” Her voice came out weak and small, the world around her suddenly huge, and the people in it too powerful. And she had nothing, was nothing. All she wanted was to be done…with this…with life.

  Celdorn rubbed his eyes, his face stern. “Yes, Elena, we can stop for tonight, but we’ll need to talk more tomorrow.”

  In spite of her best efforts, her mouth pulled down in a pout, her lips and chin both quivering. She hugged Sasha closer. How long was this interrogation going to last?

  Celdorn sat on the edge of the bed. She flinched when he raised his hand, but rather than striking her, he moved to put his arm around her shoulders. She tried not to cringe but couldn’t stop herself. Now? He was going to use her now when she had nothing left, no strength to hold up her walls?

  “I’m sorry,” he whisp
ered, his lips against her hair. His arm was shaking, his touch gentle.

  She'd never had someone apologize before he hurt her.

  “I’m so sorry to have put you through this. So sorry for what you have suffered.”

  Elena’s swirling world wrenched to a halt. She pulled back and stared up at Celdorn’s face, which looked so sad. The room tilted sideways. Some part of her wanted to move around her well-maintained guards and curl into his arms, but if she did, tears would follow. She couldn’t have that. Every inch of her exhausted body shuddered, straining to keep the tears safely locked away—the tears were hers, and she wouldn’t let anyone take them from her.

  Celdorn stroked her hair with a tenderness she’d never experienced. Elena nearly dissolved into him but resisted the urge. For too many of her youngest years, she'd secretly yearned to be held and comforted but had long ago given up any hope of that—of ever finding solace. A desperation rose like a ravenous hunger, terrifying her and threatening to undo all her resolve.

  You can’t trust this.

  Don’t give him that power over you.

  Be strong. Weakness is death.

  They will punish you for this. They will take it out of your flesh, piece by piece.

  The cacophony in her head was overwhelming, each voice clamoring over the other worse than ever, demanding she listen. She wrapped her arms around her head, whispering in a tiny voice, “Please make it stop. Please.”

  “If you help us, we will stop them.” Celdorn didn’t realize she meant the inner turmoil. “You’ve been very brave. I’m proud of you.”

  Startled by the foreign words, she raised her eyes to see if he was mocking her.

  Celdorn met her gaze, but his warm smile melted into bewilderment, almost as if he didn’t recognize her. Perhaps he already regretted his hasty words.

  The door to Celdorn’s chamber opened, and the world went off balance again. She stiffened and pulled away from Celdorn, her fortress walls shifting back into place. Relief swept through her as she regained control.

  Fortunately, Celdorn moved back as well. He ruffled Sasha’s head as he stood and acknowledged the man who had entered, the one named Shatur.

  “A guard has been established at both ends of this corridor as well as the foot of the staircases leading from this floor.” An animated speaker, Shatur gestured with both arms, which drew her attention to his missing hand. Perhaps he’d lost it in battle. “They’ve been instructed that no one is to come or go from this floor without direct orders from you.”

  Elena was surprised they were going to so much trouble. It wasn’t likely she’d try to escape. She wouldn’t make it out of the room, let alone down the stairs.

  “Thank you, Shatur.” Celdorn turned back to her. “Our next order of business is to tend your wounds. When that’s done, we’ll have a meal.”

  Elena stared at Celdorn’s back as he walked across the room, stunned they weren’t going to make use of her on this bed. Now she didn’t know what to expect.

  Celdorn spoke with his men and a quiet argument ensued.

  Silvandir’s voice stood out. “...beneath you, Celdorn...couldn’t someone else...?”

  With an angry scowl from Celdorn, the argument ended and most of the men left.

  She hugged Sasha’s head as her fear mounted. What now?

  How she wished she could run away.

  Chapter 10

  Celdorn turned his attention back to Elena and gave a nod toward Elbrion. He lifted her and followed Celdorn into the corridor. The dogs jumped up to join them.

  “Sorry, girls, not this time. Elena needs some privacy.” Celdorn stood in their path and pointed toward the side of the fireplace where two large cushions lay. “Go lie down.” His tone was commanding. The dogs lowered their tails and obeyed. Elena felt sorry for them and didn’t understand why they couldn’t join them this time. She already missed Sasha’s warmth.

  Celdorn led the way down the dark hallway to the last room on the right. When he opened the door, Elena’s jaw hung slack. She’d never seen an interior bathing room, and this one was big enough for two dozen people to be in at one time. There were several large metal tubs and three long benches in the middle of the room. Water jars and basins lined the wall to their right. In the far corners were two over-sized wardrobes.

  Dalgo awaited them next to a half-filled tub from which steam arose. Her body went rigid as images exploded in her mind.

  Celdorn was watching. “Elena, I don’t know how to do this without frightening or offending you. Since you can’t bend your leg or put any weight on it, you will require assistance in moving around, dressing, bathing, relieving yourself or anything else that requires the use of your leg. In our other strongholds, there would be women to assist you, but Kelach is a training facility for male Guardians, and we allow no women here. So I’m afraid we’re your only option.”

  “I trust women less than men anyway.” The bitter words spilled out of her mouth before she could stop them. Her eyes fixed on the floor.

  She heard Celdorn start to say something then falter. She glanced up and found a bewildered expression on his face. He looked at Dalgo, who awkwardly turned away. “Wh-what I’m saying is, my men are trustworthy and won’t harm you. Once you entered the keep, they came under the Oath of Sanctuary to guard and protect you at all times. So I'm asking you to trust us, as best you can, and tell us when you have need.”

  Celdorn stopped. Elena didn’t speak; she wasn’t sure what he wanted her to say.

  Elbrion broke the silence. “The bath is prepared for you. I will help you undress. Do you need to relieve yourself first?”

  She immediately blushed and gave a stiff nod, wondering how she would squat with the brace on her leg and how far the facilities were that the men used.

  Elbrion carried her toward the corner and set her down in front of a double-sized wardrobe. He opened the door, and she saw that it concealed an indoor outhouse. There was a platform built of stone with a hole in the middle that connected to the outside. A board with the center cut out lay over the top of the opening. There was a narrow window a few feet above allowing for fresh air, which was sorely needed.

  Elbrion laughed at her expression. “Have you never seen a garderobe before?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve heard people talk about the indoor privies the rich use but have never seen one with my own eyes.”

  With a chuckle, Elbrion helped her into the garderobe, which was no easy task. They weren’t built for two to enter together. The seat, sized for Rogaran men, was far too high for her, so Elbrion had to lift her, which left her feet dangling like a child’s. He supported the injured leg until she was done. Celdorn and Dalgo kept their distance.

  After she’d finished, Elbrion carried her to one of the benches and helped her undress, her back to the others. When she stood to remove the trousers, her hair swept to the side and Celdorn gasped. She glanced over her shoulder, gripping Elbrion’s arms for balance. Celdorn was gaping at her exposed backside, his wide eyes focused on the dozens of trenches scored into her flesh from her shoulders to her feet—ugly, darkened scars. There were probably some newer lash marks from the Farak as well. As his gaze reached her feet, his face reddened, and an angry scowl replaced the shock.

  Elena swallowed hard. “I’m told I was very stubborn when I was small.” Her eyes focused on the floor. “I’m much more obedient now. I swear I’ll cause you no trouble.”

  When Celdorn made a strangulated sound, she glanced at him and saw his face contort. Elena squared her shoulders and braced herself. Whatever happened, she could endure it.

  Celdorn moved toward her then froze. “Are those…brand marks?” His eyes widened as his hand reached toward her hip, stopping short of touching her.

  Elena’s achy chin quivered. “W-we were all marked. The...difficult ones, more than once.” She had four—each one the merger of a curved R and Z, which no one ever explained the significance of.

  Celdorn’s face went red ag
ain as his eyes flitted from her hip to her face. She looked away. When he stepped next to her, she stiffened. Without a word, he laid his hand on the top of her head, gently, and held it there. Puzzled, she gazed up at him and saw tears glistening in dark, troubled eyes.

  With a choked cough, Celdorn stepped back and motioned for Dalgo to take care of her leg. The healer carefully removed the splint, then Elbrion carried her to the tub where Celdorn waited. He laid a towel across her midsection, and they lowered her into the water.

  A melee erupted in her head, voices shouting, chaotic movement, walls crumbling. She clamped onto the men’s arms, digging her nails into their flesh. “Please don’t. Please. I’ll be good.” Her breathing turned to rapid huffs, her trembling to spasms.

  “Be at peace, Elena. We are cleansing your wounds, not punishing you. We will keep your face above the water,” Elbrion assured her.

  Her eyes locked on his. How did he know? What was he seeing, hearing?

  Once she was in the tub and realized the water wasn’t deep, the tumult eased. After Elbrion’s comment, Celdorn kept a hand under her head the entire time. With his free hand, he bathed her wounds.

  Dalgo had brought some special tools to remove the embedded rock shards. The water was cold by the time he finished.

  They wrapped her in a blanket and laid her on a bench where Dalgo applied chiaq, some sort of an Elrodanar salve, to the many open wounds and reconstructed a splint for her leg. Then he worked on straightening her broken nose. He apologized repeatedly for the pain he thought he was causing her, but she really wasn’t feeling anything. Only a few tears escaped when he adjusted her nose. Dalgo offered her a cordial for pain before he stitched the wounds on her face and side, but she refused.

  There was a knock and Silvandir opened the door a crack, informing Celdorn he had fresh clothes for her. After being assured she was covered, he entered.

  “We couldn’t find anything more suitable, so these will have to do.” Silvandir held out a small brown and cream bundle.

  Celdorn, who was straddling the bench above her head, stroking her newly stitched brow, nodded his acknowledgement.