"Is that not what you believe?" AaQar asked.
"I'm not going to be manipulated. I already know you think I'm weak and controlled by compassion."
"Because you are. Naatos was right about you."
"No." Amelia said, her voice sharpening. "I may show compassion, but I am your enemy, and I will destroy all of you. Your life is not worth all of the worlds."
AaQar held up the gecko. It now perched motionless on the top of his hand. "You took time out of your search to rescue a gecko so it wouldn't be eaten by snakes. And that body—you took the time to dig a grave and bury a Machat youth whose name you don't even know. Your natural inclinations are to heal and to bless. You may be fierce and determined, but you are a gentle soul. It must be so hard for you now that your elmis are no longer covered. But this creates an even bigger problem for you.
"For Vawtrians and Awdawms, knowing one's enemy is vital. It provides insight into behaviors and patterns, and some Vawtrians and Awdawms are able to compartmentalize and sort out these matters to obtain their goals and bring about great good, growth, and healing. But knowing your enemy will be your undoing, Amelia. For you, knowledge, true knowledge of all a person has suffered and endured, their lives spread out before you in panels of thought and emotion…it draws on your heart. You cannot see only a side of a person and segment away what is unnecessary to your purpose. You must see the whole person and then act. But you have not learned to do this, have you?"
Amelia folded her arms, shielding herself and pressing her elmis against her torso.
AaQar continued to regard her, his expression contemplative and his voice almost hypnotic. "For you, right now, I suppose this must be hard, but you aren't the threat I thought you would be. All your tenacity and determination will be undermined by your heart. If Elonumato truly wanted to stop us, he was a fool for choosing you."
"Hearts can harden." Amelia glared at him. "I will sear mine if that is what it takes."
"No. You won't." AaQar released the gecko. It scurried along the cracked-stone dais and disappeared into a sun-blistered crack. "You may think you are our enemy. You are not. You never have been. You never will be. Not truly. But if you are so determined that no one should die because of you, then we should leave now."
Amelia hung back, her hand on her arm. Her elmis were the cause of all this. They weren't going to make her a vicious monster. They made her weak! She'd have to do something about them. Even though the gecko had been part of a ruse, the truth in AaQar's words stung.
Neither she nor AaQar spoke on the journey back. When they landed, one of the Talbokians approached. He bowed to AaQar. "The Para of Eiram requests that you retain possession of the Salvation of the Third Nalenth, Lord Para."
AaQar cocked his head, his expression incredulous. "And where is the Para of Eiram?”
"In his chambers. But he does not wish to be disturbed by anyone."
"Except his wife." AaQar dismounted the cloud dragon.
The guard cleared his throat. "Pardon?"
"Presumably the Para wants his wife sent to him if he's in his chambers," AaQar said, his tone terse.
"No. He wishes to see no one. Not even his wife. He stated that expressly. He said when he is ready to speak with her, he will find her."
"Ridiculous," AaQar muttered. He removed the small bag with the remaining boxes from the saddlebag.
Amelia slid down as well. At least she didn't have to worry about talking to Naatos right now. That was one good thing to come from all this. "What about Shon and Matthu?" she asked.
"Naatos asked me to handle that." WroOth walked down the staircase. He gave AaQar a meaningful look. "It is not as bad as it sounds, but it would be wise if you spoke to him. I've said all I can." He turned his focus to Amelia and clapped his hands together. "I saw you both coming, so I've already sent the guards to bring your Awdawms back. You can say goodbye before we ship them off."
AaQar carried the Salvation of the Third Nalenth into Polfradon. Amelia watched him go, wondering where she would hide the orb in her sleeve. She resisted the urge to fiddle with it.
"Be careful about getting lost in your own mind." WroOth leaned close to her ear. "Inexperienced Neyeb sometimes never find their way out."
Amelia looked at him sidelong. "I take it you missed me." She folded her arms. Her fingers pressed against the orb. Touching it reassured her.
"With the exception of the times I'm aiming for you, I always miss you, little sister."
Amelia closed her eyes. "Could you please not call me that?"
"You would prefer ‘little brother?’"
"I'm not your brother or your sister."
"Well, you're half right."
Amelia opened her mouth to argue when she heard familiar footsteps. Two Talbokian guards escorted Shon and Matthu down the staircase. Amelia's heart leaped, relief flowing through her. She almost cried out but checked herself. No matter how happy she was to see Shon and Matthu, she had to keep herself focused. Once they were closer, she spoke. "Are you both all right?"
"Yes." Shon and Matthu both nodded, their stances at ease. Shon cleared his throat and lifted his gaze to hers. The faint smile he gave did not reach his eyes though. "We are fine, Amelia. I am sorry to inform you that your betrothal and mine must be ended in light of your marriage to Naatos."
"Our betrothal?" Amelia echoed. She caught her surprise. What was he even saying? Yet her instincts warned her against denying it. "You're ending it?"
"I'm sorry, Amelia," Shon said.
Matthu avoided looking at her.
WroOth placed his hand on Amelia's shoulder. "I'm sorry for your loss, dear heart. But this is for the best. He is right that Naatos is the better choice for you."
Amelia tightened her grip on her arms.
Shon's expression darkened. "That's not what I said."
WroOth flicked the side of Shon's head. "You've already lost that argument, and we don't have enough time for further debate. If you men will follow me, our journey takes us below."
"Below?" Matthu looked around, then pointed at the thick gate on the far side of the courtyard. "Why can't we leave by the front gate?"
Amelia frowned as well, her suspicions roused. She set her arms akimbo, giving WroOth a suspicious look. Her elmis picked up a myriad of emotions, but no specific thoughts came through.
"If you'd like to leave by the front gate, you're more than welcome to, but you might wind up a love offering for the hook-fanged spiders. One of the queens escaped from a pit and has set up her receiving chamber on the front gate. The males have been trying to tempt her with little delicacies all morning. In fact, you can see one of the guard's boots. His leg is still attached. For the moment."
Sure enough, the slight bulge at the top of the gate's arch moved. Amelia's stomach turned. She stepped back, her hands shaking. A nauseating chill wrenched through her. "They're loose?"
"Nothing for you to worry about," WroOth said. "They won't attack you anyway, Amelia. Not now. Naatos gave them your scent. You could waltz under there and play a full game of besreds and dragons without having to worry about a thing. Same goes for the crudons and the guaras. Unless something masks your scent or possibly if you get too aggressive with them or they think you're a threat. For these two on the other hand…well, at least it would be a romantic end. Served up on spikes to a petulant queen."
"So the only way out is through an underground passage." Shon sounded neither impressed nor convinced.
"Exactly. I'll show you the way." WroOth squeezed Amelia's shoulder. "Find some way to occupy yourself. I'm sure Naatos will want to see you soon enough."
"Hopefully not." Amelia pushed him away and then looked into his eyes. "You are letting them go free, aren't you? You aren't taking them somewhere to kill them?" She reached out to touch his hands like she did with AaQar.
WroOth swept his hands away and tapped her head lightly. "The Mallakish passage is safe enough. I have no desire to see either of these men dead, and neither does Naa
tos. Despite your brief romantic interlude with this one, they really aren't much of a concern."
Amelia nodded slowly, a wave of sadness washing over her. She was going to be alone soon. Well, other than Naatos, his brothers, and the Talbokians, she'd be alone. But this was for the best. "Shon, Matthu—" she started.
Shon shook his head, cutting her off. "No. Don't say it. This isn't goodbye or farewell or any other such thing. I meant what I said to you, but I also want what is best for you. And that is why I'm leaving."
"Point of clarification." WroOth circled them. "If you ever return or we catch you around Amelia again, we will kill you."
Matthu shrugged and folded his arms. His posture was tighter now, uneasy. And now that Amelia looked closer, there was something odd about his eyes. The pupils were dilated, and a faint sheen of sweat was on his neck and cheeks. Matthu forced a smile. "I guess the key there is not to get caught."
WroOth scoffed. "Yes, you two masters of illusion and disguise will most certainly succeed in that."
"WroOth." Amelia motioned toward Shon's and Matthu's empty sheaths. "What about their weapons?"
"Prisoners don't get weapons. If they get to leave, they're doing better than most."
Shon exchanged glances with Matthu. Amelia frowned at WroOth. "They will need their weapons. Let them have their weapons."
Laughing, WroOth rubbed the back of his neck. "Amelia…how do I put this? You are my sister, but you are not my master. And while Naatos has stated that these two are to be set free, I made no such promise. In fact, I frequently don't do what Naatos says. So if you decide to push the weapon issue, I'm going to break one of their necks."
"Why?" Amelia demanded. "What difference does it make to you if they have their weapons?"
"At this point, it's because you want them to have weapons. Now had you asked me politely whether they could have their weapons, I might have considered it."
"So what…this is a lesson in etiquette?"
"More or less."
"All right." Amelia swallowed the distasteful bile that rose in her mouth. At least this was marginally better than the grief and fear. "WroOth, will you please let them have their weapons?"
"Hm…" WroOth cupped his chin as if thinking. His gaze slid from Shon and Matthu to Amelia. "That was much more polite, but…no."
"And why not?" Amelia balled her fists.
"Because I said, 'no.'" WroOth leaned closer, his face inches from hers. "Now you're going to turn around and find something to do other than annoy me."
Amelia lifted her chin, meeting his gaze. "And what happens if I say 'no?'"
"Amelia," Shon said. "It's fine."
"Yeah, we can use whatever is out in the forest," Matthu said. "Ayamin training covers all that. You can't always have your weapons with you. Even if you do treat your weapons like they're your best friends."
Amelia kept her focus on WroOth. "Give them their weapons, WroOth."
WroOth laughed, looking away for a moment. "Guards, keep an eye on the prisoners." Stepping forward, he grabbed Amelia, threw her up onto his shoulder, and strode up the staircase.
"Put me down!" Amelia flailed and kicked, but WroOth acted as if it was no inconvenience at all. Shon and Matthu shouted and started for her, but the guards restrained them.
"What are you doing?" Amelia demanded.
"Demonstrating how things work around here," WroOth said cheerfully.
Amelia pushed her hands against his back. "Put me down, WroOth. Right now!"
As WroOth entered Polfradon, the coolness of the shadows enveloped them.
"I imagine you learned a lot of tricks from the Awdawms while you were living among them," WroOth said. "While we were visiting, we happened to see this performance where this man put another inside a box, locked him up, and then left him there until he escaped without the key. Easy enough for a Vawtrian, but devilishly tricky for an Awdawm. Equally so for a Neyeb, I should think." He stopped in the hall in front of a large chest and kicked it open. "Let's find out, shall we?" He dropped Amelia in and slammed the lid shut.
35
Trouble
"WroOth!" Amelia shouted. She beat on the wooden walls of the chest. Light and air flowed through the keyhole and cracks. "You let me out of here right now."
WroOth locked the trunk and leaned on the top. The wood creaked in response. "You seem pretty good at getting out of little scrapes, don't you? Let's see just how good you are. I'll be back in oh, ten, fifteen minutes, and if you've made it out, well congratulations to you. And if you find you can't escape, we'll deal with that too. In the meantime, I recommend you contemplate your situation and why it's not wise to command those you cannot control. A simple enough mistake for anyone in your position, but not one you should repeat. I'm sure we'll come to an understanding about one another, won't we?"
Amelia punched the wall, glaring in his general direction. "When I get out of here—"
"Yes, I'm sure, I'm sure." WroOth chuckled. "Well, I need to finish escorting your Ayamin friends outside, and then I'll come back for you." He started to walk away, then turned back. He crouched in front of the keyhole. "And if you're thinking up a way to get even, well…just make it good. I'm easily bored. See you soon, little sister."
Amelia listened to the fading footsteps. Hunched up as she was in the trunk, she could still move and breathe. The orb was still secure as well, thankfully. The air, however, was quickly warming. Obviously, WroOth did not intend to leave her here to suffocate, but she had no intention of remaining.
Amelia pressed her fingers against the wooden panel around the lock. It was a basic lock. She could pick it if she still had the—
She stopped, remembering the dagger AaQar had given her. He hadn't taken it back. She unsheathed it and worked it around the lock. Compared to some wood, this was fairly soft and easily dented. She worked as fast as she could, determined to get out before WroOth returned.
With each cut, air flowed in, cool in its relief. She soon broke the lock out entirely, lifted the lid, and stepped out. Sweat had formed along the back of her neck and shoulders as well as her cheeks. Wiping her face, she sheathed the dagger. Now it was time to find a place to hide the Salvation of the Third Nalenth.
Padding along as quietly as she could, Amelia made her way up the staircase to the fifth level. The air did not flow so freely up here, but she soon found one of the hidden passages beneath a distinctive tapestry depicting a free-falling waterfall, with numerous bunches of vibrant leaves floating on a rippling pond, colorful fish dancing beneath.
The hidden door grated open. Amelia removed the Salvation of the Third Nalenth from her sleeve, wrapped it in the strips of cloth, and fastened it to the ceiling, wedging it into one of the dips. Even if someone uncovered this particular passage, they probably wouldn't notice this.
Satisfied, Amelia smiled. It was safe. She stilled the tapestry, wiped away the dust, and then stepped back. Yes. This would work for now.
Turning, she walked slowly down the hall. The big question now was…well, now what? She turned her hands over and stared down at her elmis.
A deep hatred rose within her for the strange dark marks. If she wasn't a blood child and the last of the Neyeb, Naatos probably wouldn't be interested in her at all. And these elmis were her weakness, the essential physical mark of being a Neyeb. What if the reason that she had been told to keep them covered was because it was the only way she could fulfill her destiny? Not because she was so powerful but because she was…
Amelia struggled to find the word. Only one settled easily in her mind: weak.
She pressed her hands to the window arch. As the cold of the stones seeped into her elmis, it soothed the fever in her mind. What am I supposed to do, Elonumato? It's not going to go as planned, I know that. But what am I supposed to do?
A hand suddenly gripped her backside, fingers searching along the edge of the tunic for her bare thigh. Amelia responded on instinct, assuming it was Naatos. She reached down, grabbed the hand,
twisted it, spun, and punched him in the throat. To her surprise, her assailant wasn't Naatos. It was one of the Talbokians.
The man fell back, choking and glaring at her. Four other guards stood behind him. "What kind of welcome is that?" he wheezed.
"Careful, Cheruch," said one, a young man with an extra silver bar on his insignia. All of the sub-insignias on their collars indicated they were from the same sub-tribe in the Talbokians.
"What do you think you're doing?" Amelia demanded. She unsheathed her dagger and pulled the tunic down.
The five Talbokians blocked her access to the hall. The back of her neck tightened with apprehension. While she had caught Cheruch in the throat, that was about the only exposed point. That and the face. Unlike the previous guards, they wore chainmail like the invaders. Punching someone with chainmail would do more damage to her than them. And apparently stabbing them in the throat would kill her.
"You need allies, Neyeb," Silver Bar continued. He scanned her body before scratching his head. "And we heard your husband doesn't want to see you now. Seems you aren't as important to him as you thought."
"Uh-huh…" Amelia analyzed the situation. They stood at equal distances apart. Going for the one left her exposed her to the others. Unless she could launch herself and knock one down, then keep running. Her one dagger wasn't going to do much good. All five were armed, some with daggers and rondels, others with short swords.
"You know,” Amelia said, “as true as that is, I don't think you're the allies I'm looking for."
"I am Phelsco," said the mercenary closest to her. He had gaunt features and tight muscles. Stepping forward, he brushed a piece of thread from her sleeve. "I have tremendous authority within these ranks, not merely among my own. More than you might guess to look at me. It would be incredible to see what I could do if I were persuaded." He placed his hand on her shoulder, his fingers squeezing lightly. "Of course, even if I didn't have such authority, the fact is you need allies, whether you like them or not. Otherwise, it's just going to get worse for you."
Identity Revealed: The Tue-Rah Chronicles Page 32
