Two Worlds of Oblivion

by Angelina J. Steffort

  “You are speaking of her as if she is already dead,” a man with olive skin and chocolate eyes similar to Heck’s countered over the table.

  “Probably not dead, Emir,” Neelis let the man know, and Heck got an inch or so smaller in his chair beside Neelis and Seri. Was that Heck’s father? Emir Brendal? “But if we’re lucky, never to return.”

  “When has luck ever been on our side?” Laura took back the word, making the room fall silent, all other questions smothered by her royal authority. Jemin suppressed the urge to second that. When, indeed, except for when he had run into Maray? When, except for when she had kissed him back? When, except for when she had saved his life with her magic?

  Maray

  Tension threatened to suffocate Maray’s shallow breathing. This was like one of those interventions on reality TV which she had watched to pass her time in her former life. All of it was there: the drama, the denial, the intrigues. And her family was at the center of it.

  “We are facing difficult times, and during these, I will need all of you at our side,” Laura spoke, voice steady but firm. “I don’t blame any of you if you have been oblivious to my mother’s true nature. I myself have only recently—through my imprisonment—discovered who she really is. And all the things she has done—”

  None of the nobles and officials dared to interrupt again, even though their faces gave away that they had millions of questions. There was Emir Brendal, Heck’s father, and next to him a dark-haired woman who, from the look of it, could be Heck’s mother. Both of them eyed Maray curiously while Laura held her speech. And they weren’t the only ones. Maray could feel their gazes, blunt and puzzled. They hadn’t seen Rhia in so long, and now they saw her looking like the young queen and, at the same time, learning about their own queen’s betrayal.

  Once more, she hooked her gaze into Jemin’s, hoping to make everything but him disappear. Jemin didn’t look away but held her gaze, as if trying to keep a drowning person afloat. It dawned on her that where they were, there in the palace, wasn’t exactly the calm and safe place she had been thinking, but merely the eye of a tornado. Any sway to the side might suck her right into the storm.

  “I know I haven’t been around much for all of you to know me enough to trust me, but believe me when I tell you that my heart beats for Allinan. It always has.”

  “Hear, hear.” A voice sounded from the back of the room; a harsher version of Maray’s own voice, making her shrink, and she wasn’t the only one to freeze. Beside her, her mother sucked in a breath in horror. “The stories our kids tell when we’re not listening, right?” The voice laughed, and heels clicked as the source came closer.

  And there, in the corner, she was. A vision in midnight-blue velvet and golden ornamentations, hair braided around her head like in the iconic image on the wall behind Maray—

  “You for sure know what I am talking about, Emir. You have a son who thinks he can do whatever he pleases.” Rhia walked around the table, ignoring the part-horror-stricken, part-surprised faces, and joined Maray at the head of the table, burgundy lips curved in a heartless smile. “Hello, granddaughter.”

  Maray turned her head, and her own face stared back at her. It was even worse than that first time in the dungeons when Rhia had attacked her—this time, the room was full of witnesses who were seeing Maray and the Queen for the very first time. It was like a legend and a rumor colliding in an artfully-decorated room under the curious gazes of people who were making up their minds about what they wanted to believe.

  “Guards,” Laura finally reacted, obviously suppressing the panic in her voice. “Seize her.”

  Beside the windows and doors, blue and red dressed men and women moved, hesitantly making their way toward Rhia—until she gave them a sharp look.

  “Do you want to be charged with treason?” she asked as if she was talking about the color of her gown. “Think well whose side you want to be on after I end this meeting.”

  Maray shivered under the weight of the meaning of Rhia’s words. Treason. If Rhia could convince the guards, everyone in this room would be charged with treason. She didn’t know her grandmother well, but she did know that.

  While the guards were sluggishly approaching Rhia, Laura grabbed Maray’s hand. “Whatever happens, Maray,” she whispered, “trust your friends and Neelis.”

  Maray’s eyes wandered back to Jemin whose hand had disappeared under the table, probably readying his sword to fight, his gaze hard and blue on Rhia. Beside him, Heck, Corey, and Wil were all wearing the same expression of horror.

  “Treason,” Rhia reminded the guards and everyone else in the room, “is punished with death.”

  A murmur ran through the room as one after another seemed to make their decisions.

  “You might not have seen me in years, my friends,” she spoke icily, “but I know each and every one of your faces.”

  Maray felt the impulse to run. She was fully aware that this couldn’t end well for her mother, her father, or herself. Everyone in this room was in danger as long as Rhia felt like they were a threat to her. How much did she know? Did she know about Neelis’ and Seri’s Yutu pack? Did she know about Langley’s rogue formation of revolutionaries? What did she expect was going to happen?

  “Your Majesty,” one of the men on the right side of the table said as he got to his feet, “if I may…” Rhia didn’t stop him but inclined her head with a fake smile. “Is it true… about the first breach of dimensions?”

  All gazes were on the man whose eyes were now nervously twitching as he awaited Rhia’s response—as they all were.

  Rhia walked around the table, sending cold shivers down Maray’s back as she passed behind her, ignoring the guards who were following her at a nearly unnoticeable speed as they hadn’t made up their minds yet, until she came to a halt behind the man who had asked.

  “Treason is an interesting phenomenon,” she explained with a dangerously calm voice. “It depends so much on the perspective whether something can be called treason.” She laughed and placed her hand on the man’s shoulder, her head level with his. “The first breach of dimensions was an eye-opener, wasn’t it?” She didn’t wait for a response but continued following her train of thought. “All those years I’ve been afraid of demons when in reality, there is no greater ally than a demon.”

  As Maray listened to Rhia, she still couldn’t paint a clear image of what a demon was, what it looked like…

  “Haven’t you been wondering why the harvests are richer every year? Why the people love their queen—their ever-youthful queen?” She glanced around the table, a minor sign of madness behind her lapis-lazuli eyes. Seeing someone look so much like herself, and then behave so entirely different, made her feel like she was becoming schizophrenic. “It was most certainly not because the weather was better than the years before or the farmers were busier.”

  “You really did it,” Emir Brendal concluded, earning a warning glance from the Queen.

  “What did you think?” Heck’s amused voice sounded in response.

  It was enough to push Rhia over her limit, and with a flick of her hand, the man before her sagged to the floor, hitting the table with his forehead as he slid down over the edge. For a moment, it looked as if the men next to him were going to attack Rhia, and Maray’s eyes automatically checked to see if Jemin was still in his chair; it wouldn’t have surprised her if he’d snuck away and was suddenly behind Rhia, sword above her head. But he hadn’t moved an inch. He appeared deeper in shock than any of the other people in the room. Maray could only guess why, and her presumption was on Jemin’s father, Sander Boyd, for whose death Rhia had arranged, whom she had made a traitor.

  Why wasn’t anyone doing anything? Why hadn’t the guards grabbed the rogue queen? Why hadn’t Scott raised his sword against her? When Maray glanced around the room once more, she had her answer—they were all scared to death.

  “Seize them.” Rhia’s words were as simple as they were final.

  From the c
orner of her eye, Maray noticed a silent exchange between her mother and Commander Scott; a tiny nod from both sides, informing her that Scott would play along with Rhia’s demands on Laura’s wish.

  “Do it,” Scott instructed the so far indecisive guards, and with no further ado, they stepped to the front of the table and grabbed Gerwin, Laura, and Maray by their arms. Maray sucked in a sharp breath as a man’s fingers closed around her elbow.

  “Leave her alone!” Jemin’s clear voice broke through the air like thunder, ripping the people into the room in two groups—the ones who were going to support Laura and the ones who were going to stick with Rhia.

  As much relief as Jemin’s words brought, they inflicted just as much fear on Maray. He was going to put himself in danger in an attempt to reason with the evil queen. Rhia didn’t reason. Maray had learned that in the brief encounter in the dungeons and now again in this very room. She glanced at the motionless man behind the table, hoping she had dreamed he had sunk to the floor as if he was dead. But his shock of salt and pepper hair was visible behind the chair. She swallowed. Why couldn’t she act? She had a voice and arms and legs. She could scream, run, hit someone. But she was petrified. Rhia’s mere presence scared the hell out of her.

  “Boyd,” Rhia said with a smile that made Maray want to scratch her eyes out. Jemin responded with an elegant motion, which reminded Maray of someone who danced out of his chair rather than furiously jumping to his feet, and ended with him drawing his sword. “So, you have decided to follow in your father’s footsteps then, Boyd,” Rhia mused coldly. “A traitor by blood.” She gave him and unimpressed glare before she commanded the guards to proceed.

  But Jemin didn’t back down. “I said, ‘leave her alone.’” His eyes were two frozen lakes. Almost unrecognizably chilly. His look reminded her of their first encounter in the park. It seemed like years ago now. Too much had happened. When she looked at him, she didn’t see that boy any longer, but the one who had recently told her he loved her. Her heart feared for him more than for herself.

  “Jemin, no,” Maray heard herself mutter, but he didn’t seem to care.

  Beside him, Heck had gotten to his feet, much to his parents’ dismay who were whisper-shouting at him to sit down and be sensible.

  Rhia observed the scene as if she had not a care in the world. “Take them to the dungeons.”

  A sharp pain in Maray’s arm reminded her that the guard was still restraining her as he pulled her around in an attempt to drag her toward the door. For a moment, Maray considered conjuring her fire. It itched under her fingernails to do so, but her experience let her shy away from the mere thought of losing control like that again. She still had no idea how many lives she had on her conscience, and she wasn’t going to add to that number—

  As she was still pondering what was happening, Jemin moved. As quickly as he had when he had saved her from that first Yutu, he was on the table, charging across the surface without regard for the shouts of caution from Scott. He launched himself past Laura, sword in one hand, propping himself up on the edge of the table with the other, and swung his legs in a wide circle.

  His feet hit the guard’s face, and the pressure disappeared from Maray’s arm. Jemin landed right in front of her, eyes searching hers. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Maray wanted to throw herself into Jemin’s arms. Again he was risking everything for her, and she had nothing to give back but the fact that her existence was a threat to everyone’s safety. She wanted to move, but her feet wouldn’t listen. And how could she bolt if it meant she would have to leave her parents behind. If anyone else would help… Neelis and Seri or Heck…

  Heck’s chocolate eyes appeared behind Jemin’s shoulder as he reached around him with his sword, directing it at the guard who was clinging to Laura’s arm in fear—whether it was of the queen or Heck’s blade was unclear.

  “Stop it, Brendal, Boyd,” Scott yelled, and all eyes were on him. “This is a command.”

  Jemin shook his head, but the guard he had tackled was back on his feet, and in the brief second Jemin hadn’t paid attention, the guard had set his blade under Jemin’s chin. The disappointment in both Jemin’s and Heck’s gazes was crushing. Scott was supposed to be on their side. They had obviously not noticed the silent exchange between him and Laura, or they would have not attacked like fools when there was no hope anyone was going to support them.

  “When you’re already on your way down there,” Rhia said to the guard as if nothing had caused an interruption, “take the boys with you, will you?” She came closer and laid her hand on Maray’s neck.

  Jemin gasped in front of her, almost stumbling into the guard’s sword as his body instinctively twitched forward. Simultaneously, a scream froze in Maray’s throat when for a moment, Rhia’s fingernails clawed into her skin, and she wondered if her grandmother was going to take her down like she had with the man who had dared to doubt her and was now still lying motionless on the floor.

  The rest of the room was petrified into a stone-like silence—all except for Maray’s mother and father, who were exchanging nervous glances when the guards set them in motion. Why weren’t they fighting back? Jemin had taken down Rhia and Feris singlehandedly in the dungeons. What had changed?

  “Oh, and take their weapons and bracelets on the way out.” Rhia gave Maray a brief grin that conjured mild nausea before she turned away and settled down in the very same chair where Laura had sat before. “Where were we? Ah yes, the punishment for treason in Allinan is death…”

  Rhia’s sickening tone faded as the guards escorted Maray and her parents ahead of Jemin and Heck out of the room and down the hallway. The palace guards, which had glanced at Maray curiously earlier, were now averting their eyes as the procession passed.

  “Down here.” To Maray’s surprise, Scott had accompanied them out of the room and squeezed past Maray as they made it to a small door at the end of the hallway. They had long passed Laura’s chambers and Maray’s new room, but it was clear that wasn’t where she was going to stay any time soon—or ever again. This was what Langley and his rogue revolutionaries had feared. Rhia had gotten both Laura and Maray in her hands, and now it was only a matter of time until she would take what she believed was hers to take.

  Jemin’s breath was right behind her as the guard led her down the dimly lit stairs. This was unmistakably the descent to the dungeons. The foul stench blew in her face as they arrived at the bottom of an irregular staircase. It was earth and mold, and the humidity almost took her breath away.

  “Stay calm,” Laura whispered as Maray’s head bobbed from side to side, screening the place for a potential exit.

  Maray caught her father’s eye, and he gave her a brief nod. So far, he’d been incredibly calm, and Maray wasn’t sure if this was his professional facade and underneath he was boiling with fear the way she did, or if he actually had a plan.

  Jemin and Heck had been oddly quiet all the way down to the dungeons, too. It was now, when a row of iron barred cells came into view, that Jemin started protesting behind her.

  “I wouldn’t do that, if I were you,” one of the guards warned him. It wasn’t anyone Maray had seen up there in the meeting room, but it was a man in a darker uniform. He must have been down here when they had arrived, and it dawned on Maray why he looked so familiar: it was the guard Jemin had knocked out with the back of his sword when they had rescued her mother. “I’ve got a special place down here for you and your friend.”

  When Maray looked over her shoulder at Jemin to verify what she was thinking was correct, the man blocked her view, stopping her with a harsh grasp on the shoulder and pushing her into an open cell right behind her mother. She stumbled over her gown to hit the earthy floor with her bare hands, scraping her skin at the impact.

  “Maray!”

  Maray wasn’t sure who had called first, but she was certain her parents and both boys had shouted her name in alarm. She scrambled to her feet, gingerly stretching her legs as her kne
es hurt almost as much as her hands. She needed to do something. But what was she going to do? She had no weapon, and her magic could kill them all. They were trapped, and obviously, her mother had a plan, or she wouldn’t have let Scott support Rhia’s wish to imprison them.

  When Maray turned around to face the man who had pushed her, her view was segmented by iron bars, but she wasn’t alone in the cell. Her mother and father were there with her, both of them with surprising dignity as they watched the vengeful guard disappear together with Scott and the rest of their escort the way they had entered the dungeons. The men’s laughter echoed off the walls, and Maray’s blood froze in her veins.

  Her mother and father were in the same cell with her, but where were Jemin and Heck? Panic rose inside Maray.

  “Jemin?” Maray muttered, eyes searching the space wildly. Where had the men taken them?

  It was less than a second before Jemin’s voice hit her from the side like an upset tidal wave. “Here.” There was disgust in the way he said it but, more than that, a deep, burning anger.

  Maray jerked around, ignoring her sore legs, and found Jemin’s face behind another wall of iron bars next to Heck’s which, for once, had lost all traces of amusement. With a few painful strides, Maray made it to the barricade and reached up to wrap her fingers around Jemin’s hand which was clutching an iron bar so hard his knuckles were white.

  At her touch, Jemin’s fury left his features. He glanced over Maray’s shoulder—probably at her parents—and slipped his hand out from under her touch. What had boiled in anger under the surface was now replaced by something far scarier. Jemin looked defeated. It was one of the worst expressions Maray could imagine on his handsome features. She yearned for the tender look he had given her in the cabin before the disaster with Langley and the rogue revolutionaries.