Unity: The Todor Trilogy, Book Three

by Jenna Newell Hiott

  Numa looked up at Soman with pleading eyes. “Gemynd’s mind is still asleep and I cannot get his permission,” she said in psychspeak. “If I leave him here, he will die.”

  Soman looked up in the direction of the keep, though he could no longer see it. “Take yourself and the others to the dungeon then,” he said. “I will bring Gemynd to you myself. Hurry! Tatparo is slipping!”

  The four people Soman had been holding vanished. The sudden change in weight threw Soman off balance and he stumbled, giving the wind the chance to pick him up and throw him against he city wall. He felt his ribs fracture and he struggled to inhale while forcing himself to stand.

  Soman looked up the wall. If it weren’t for the wind, he would simply fly to the top of the keep to get Gemynd. But if he were to take flight now, he’d be carried off to oblivion. This time, he would have to make the journey on foot.

  Using the stones of the wall as anchors, Soman held tight with his fingertips and pulled himself against the force of the wind. By the time he reached the other side of the wall, his ribs had healed completely. All he had to do now was cross the city square to the keep. Instead of lifting his feet to take steps, Soman slid one foot forward then the next to keep contact with the ground at all times.

  Once he finally reached the keep, it took all of Soman’s strength to pull the massive door open against the wind. He let it slam closed behind him and was, at last, free to move at a normal pace. He ran to the staircase, then took three steps at a time to the top. He had no way of knowing if Gemynd was even still on the wallwalk. For all he knew, the wind had already carried him away.

  As Soman ran through the throne room, he could feel the keep swaying with the wind. Even construction as solid as the keep could not withstand movement like that for long. Soman knew he’d be lucky if it didn’t crumble to the ground with him inside of it.

  He pushed through the door to the wallwalk and dropped to his hands and knees to find Gemynd. He remembered the approximate location where Gemynd had been, but found nothing there. Soman continued to feel around, blinded by a sky that was now black with debris. He could feel his skin shearing off where it was exposed, and was once again thankful for his body’s ability to heal. He worried that Gemynd might not have any skin left by the time he found him.

  Soman’s fingers felt a piece of cloth and he followed it until he felt the form of a human body. It was pressed halfway up the parapet and Soman knew another strong gust would have carried it over the wall. “I am here, brother,” he shouted, unsure if Gemynd was awake.

  Soman pulled the body onto his lap and bent low to see it. Gemynd’s cheeks had been badly abraded, but the rest of him appeared to be protected by Iturtian leather armor. The crown Gemynd had worn for such a short time was nowhere to be seen. Soman could not hear Gemynd’s heartbeat over the wind, but his body felt warm and Soman knew he was still alive.

  “Let’s get you underground,” he said and hefted Gemynd over his shoulder as he stood. When he did, he saw a flash and heard a clang of metal against rock. Soman patted Gemynd around the waist with his free hand and his heart sank when he realized what he’d heard. Gemynd’s dagger was missing from his belt. It must have flown away when Soman picked him up.

  “Scitte,” Soman said and closed his eyes. He knew what that dagger meant to Gemynd, especially after Golath’s death. “I guess we will have to go in search of a dagger first.”

  Soman ran down the staircase inside the keep as fast as he could with Gemynd over his shoulder. He held tight to Gemynd’s legs as he once again performed an awkward slide walk across the city square. He had no idea how he would locate a tiny dagger that had been tossed somewhere in Todor, but he knew he had to try.

  Soman’s eyes watered as he forced them open in the wind. He could see very little, but it was his only hope of finding the dagger. Suddenly a flash of light caught his eye not far in front of him. He lunged forward and wrapped his hand around the object before it could disappear again. He pulled it towards his face to inspect it and his heart soared. “Your dagger! It’s a miracle!” he shouted. “I’ve found it!”

  Soman held tight to the dagger with one hand and to Gemynd with the other while he turned to make his way back to the keep. The wind seemed even more intense than it had been moments before. He slid his left foot forward, then his right.

  And then the air around him sounded like it split in two. A piercing crack echoed through the air, followed by a crash so loud it drowned out the howling of the wind. The ground rumbled and shook beneath Soman’s feet.

  “The keep,” he whispered, horrified, just as a block of stone hit him in the side of the head. Soman looked up and saw that the sky was now raining stones. Soman knew the stones weren’t likely to kill him, but they could easily crush Gemynd’s skull.

  Soman shifted Gemynd around so that his head was protected as best as it could be, then he decided to take a chance on running. It was a risk, but so was spending any unnecessary time in the wind. He got to where the keep had just been standing and, for a moment, stared at the unnatural scene of enormous stone blocks being picked up off the ground and carried through the air as though they were no more substantial than fallen leaves.

  He stumbled around until he found a flat patch of dirt that he hoped had been the keep floor. His body ached with the continual battering of falling stones that was happening too fast for his body to heal. He knew his bones were broken in hundreds of places, some of which pierced into various vital organs. Soman’s consciousness was slipping as his blood failed to reach his brain. But he had to get Gemynd to safety. He promised Numa he would.

  Finally, his foot landed on something that felt hollow underneath. Soman bent down and felt the edges of the hatch. With his final burst of strength, Soman lifted the hatch and dove into the tunnel with Gemynd in his arms.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Gemynd

  Gemynd could not move any part of his body. Not the tip of his finger nor even his eyelids, which were heavily closed. He could not call out nor even manage a whisper. And the power of his mind was frozen. He could not nudge another’s mind nor even feel if his own was being nudged. But every now and again, he could hear what occurred around him. He heard Numa shouting and quick, heavy footsteps. He heard metal striking against metal and thousands of voices cry out in agony.

  Gemynd could also hear a constant low vibration, a hum, that permeated every other sound. It was the sound from which all the other sounds came and the thread that connected them. As he listened to it, Gemynd realized that it was the sound of chaos.

  “You can hear the battle,” a familiar voice said. Gemynd looked around the darkness of his mind and saw a figure emerge. A man.

  “Father,” he heard his own voice echo inside his mind.

  “I leave you to your own devices and you end up lying flat on your back, unconscious,” Golath said. “Not very kingly behavior if you ask me.”

  Gemynd tried to think of a way to defend himself, but then he looked at his father’s face. Golath was smiling. “You jest,” Gemynd said, though it was mostly a question. His father had never been one for levity, especially not when it came to matters of ruling Todor.

  “My son, I spent too much of my life forsaking Joy,” Golath replied. “I shall not spend my death that way too.”

  A red, hot pain pierced Gemynd’s chest as the memory of his father’s death became all too real again. He had ignored it before, distracting himself with the business of taking the throne of Todor. But now he was imprisoned with it, encaged within his own unmoving body. There was no escape this time. He was forced to look right at the pain and feel it. “How can I bear this?” he cried out, wanting to flee, wanting to tear at his own flesh to feel a more tolerable sort of pain.

  “You are Gemynd of Aerie,” Golath said, his tone both stern and soothing at once. “You are the Director of Iturtia and the king of Todor. You have the strength
to bear any pain.”

  “No, Father, not without you.” The hot pain flowed slowly through Gemynd’s veins, spreading out from his chest. It scorched his insides so completely that all he knew in that moment was torment, and no hope of relief.

  “Clearly, you are not without me,” Golath said. “I am here now.”

  “The moment I am able to open my eyes, you will be gone again.” The hot pain had reached Gemynd’s extremities and he wished for nothing but the sweet relief of death. “Let me trade places with you. Let me give my life so that you may live again. You are the true Director of Iturtia and it should be you on the throne. You were always meant to be king.”

  Golath sighed and, even though it was only inside his mind, Gemynd could feel his touch as he reached out and took Gemynd’s hand. “Even if it were possible to trade places, you cannot ask me to carry the burden of your death. The grief I would feel would far outweigh any pain you can imagine. You must bear this grief now so that I will never know the pain of losing my only son. You have the strength to do this, I promise.”

  Gemynd looked into his father’s eyes, those eyes that were nearly identical to his own. He knew his father was right. It was only natural that Golath should die first. And Gemynd knew that, somehow, he would find the strength to survive it. “How long will the pain last?” he asked.

  Golath squeezed Gemynd’s hand. “It will be part of you forever more. Grief does not pass nor lessen, but, in time, you will become more accustomed to it. You will begin to have moments when there is more Joy than rawness in remembering; and moments when you can feel the Love within the pain. I can assure you that all of that will happen. Now, can you carry this grief without reacting to it?”

  Gemynd stayed silent for several moments. He simultaneously felt the burning pain and his father’s presence. He could hear his own heartbeat and the cries of war below him. He knew what Golath was asking him. Would he react to his pain with rage as he always had before? “There is so much that is unclear to me,” he responded, knowing it wasn’t really an answer. “Should I fight to be king or let Numa lead as she said? Is her vision really what’s best for Todor? And where is the man who murdered you? I cannot let him go unpunished. I fear that if I do not react with anger, I shall never have the answers to these questions.”

  “Your greatest enemy has always been your fear,” Golath said. “You find solace in its familiarity and so you turn to it time and again. But now is the time for courage, my son. You must find within you the courage to trust. I know that this will be the greatest challenge of all for you, but I also know you are up to the task.”

  “I have never found it a challenge to trust you, Father.” Gemynd held tight to Golath’s hand. He could feel that their time together would soon come to an end.

  Golath smiled again. “If you were to look deep inside your heart, I’m sure you would see times when you did not trust even me. There were times when you feared me,” he said. “It is not me who you need to trust this time, however, but Numa. Trust not only her word, but her vision and her ability to lead. Trust her enough to follow her.”

  “You want me to step down as ruler?” Gemynd asked, shocked. How many times had he heard Golath say that he wanted Iturtia to rule Todor? “You want an Empyrean on the throne?”

  “I want you to support Numa as your wife, as your friend, and, most especially, as ruler of Todor. I cannot make it any more clear than that. Surely even you cannot find room for doubt in what I want.”

  Gemynd thought about his father’s request. He imagined himself taking the crown from his own head and placing it on Numa’s. Despite all that he had endured to take the throne himself, what he felt most when he thought of handing it to Numa, was relief. “You have my word, Father,” he said. “I shall follow her and obey her for the rest of my life.”

  “Numa will create a new Todor, one that will need a new sort of Keeper.” Golath gave Gemynd a sly wink.

  “You want me to be a Keeper?” Gemynd knew his father had felt only disdain for the Keepers. It was a surprise to hear him suggest his own son become one.

  “Someone must keep the wisdom for Todor and there is no one better suited to the task than you. The people need a record of truth. Keep this for them. The new Keepers will not trade in lies or secrets, and they won’t make vows of abstaining.”

  Gemynd smiled. A life as both a Keeper and Numa’s husband was all he ever wanted. “It sounds like a perfect life to me.”

  Golath pulled Gemynd into an embrace. “In this way, we shall all fulfill our destinies.”

  Gemynd held tight to his father. He knew that the man had just given him the greatest gift of all. He released him from feeling obligated to lead. “Thank you, Father,” he said.

  Golath pulled back then, his image beginning to fade. He turned and looked over his shoulder as though someone had called him from behind. “I must go now,” he said to Gemynd. “It is my turn.”

  Gemynd watched his father disappear and, despite the pain, he did not try to stop him. “Thank you,” he whispered again.

  Gemynd tried again to open his eyes or even wiggle a toe, but he was still paralyzed. He heard shouting, closer this time. Then a long moment of eerie silence, broken only by Soman’s voice wailing in anguish. The hum of chaos filled Gemynd’s ears once again and he felt as though his body was being lifted into the air.

  How many moments passed after that, Gemynd had no idea. His awareness faded in and out, but the only sound he could hear was a single set of heavy footsteps. He tried again to force his eyelids open and, at long last, met with success. But he was unable to make any sense of what he saw. It was mostly dark, with a faint flickering light allowing him to see the edges of things. His cheek rested against a soft cloth. A blanket perhaps? Was he lying down?

  He tried to lift his head, but it was far too heavy so he moved his eyes around instead. In front of him, he could see only the dancing shadows of a strangely moving mass. He looked up and saw his own right arm extending up above his head.

  Gemynd looked again at the cloth beneath his cheek and noticed it looked like a Zobanite garment. Soman’s garment. “What?!” Gemynd exclaimed, suddenly realizing he’d been using Soman’s backside as a pillow while the giant man carried Gemynd over his shoulder like a sack of grain. He tried to wriggle away, but still could not move his body.

  “You’re awake.” Soman’s familiar voice thundered above him.

  Suddenly everything tilted and swayed; what was up went down and what was down went up. Soman’s hands closed around Gemynd’s shoulders as he leaned him up against a wall.

  “You were carrying me,” Gemynd said aloud, glad his voice was beginning to work again.

  “Radine started a terrible wind, one that may destroy Todor. Since Numa could not get your permission to move you, I promised I would get you to safety,” Soman answered.

  Gemynd looked at his surroundings. They were in a tunnel carved out of stone, lit only by the oil lamp in Soman’s hand. It reminded him of Iturtia, but he knew that place no longer existed. “Where are we?”

  “In the tunnels below the Tolnick keep.”

  Gemynd tried to piece things together, but his mind felt like it was encased in a maze of spiderwebs.

  “I was supposed to bring you down to the dungeon and meet Numa there. My purpose is to serve her and I am already failing. I’m afraid we are utterly lost. I need your brainpower to figure out where we are.”

  The spiderwebs inside Gemynd’s head seemed to thicken as he tried to process what Soman had said. He could not make sense of any of it. But there was one thing that stuck out more than the rest of it. “Your purpose is to serve my wife?” he asked.

  “Radine, the one with the carus head, helped me figure it out,” Soman answered.

  “Oh, I’m dreaming,” Gemynd said, sighing loudly with relief. “I do not need to figure this out. I simply need to wake up.
And if I’m dreaming, then I must be sleeping next to Numa for she is the only thing that allows me such deep sleep.”

  A wave of serenity passed through Gemynd, knowing that he was really lying peacefully next to Numa. With his beloved nearby, all was well.

  “Brother, you are not dreaming,” Soman insisted. “You are merely impaired.”

  Gemynd felt a strange tickle run under the skin of his scalp, down his neck and through his limbs. It was as though an army of baby spiders had just been released from the webs in his brain and were taking over his body. “What has impaired me?” he managed to ask.

  “You were given a strong tea of something to make you sleep,” Soman answered, seemingly unable to look Gemynd in the eye.

  Gemynd thought back, recalling all he could. “You were against my plan to control the people.”

  “Of course I was against it.” Soman rolled his eyes. “Let us not dredge up the past now. I have forgiven you of everything that transpired. I have pledged not to live my life in blame, so we shall simply move forward from here.”

  Gemynd remembered Numa saying that she would be queen, and then her movements became so rapid they were merely a blur. The carus had flung Gemynd down the wallwalk and positioned Soman behind him. “You gave me the tea,” he said, clearly recalling that bit.

  “The cup was in my hand, but I had very little to do with it.” Soman sounded annoyed. He clearly did not feel like discussing the matter.

  There was something else Gemynd had wanted to speak with him about anyway. “I watched you strengthen your will when we fought. I tried to control you again and you resisted. How easily you could have killed me then, but you didn’t.”

  Soman leaned heavily against the wall next to Gemynd. “I couldn’t. You are my brother and I love you.”

  “After all I’ve done, I don’t deserve a friendship like yours.”

  Soman stood up, wiping at the dust on his legs. “That’s true enough,” he said and grinned. “You don’t deserve Numa either, but you’ve got both of us. Now, as soon as you are able, use your mind to contact Numa so she can bring us to her. As I mentioned, we are dreadfully lost.”