Lost Prince

by M. A. Roth

  My heart deflates. I feel the loss of his touch immediately.

  “Avitus will be worried about you.”

  I search his face for more, but he has closed up on me again. I tighten my cloak and leave him. This time he doesn’t follow me. Well… at least I don’t see him follow, but more than likely he watches me from the shadows, making sure I don’t cause anymore trouble.

  When I reach Avitus’ house, I can see a shadow alongside his home.

  “What do you want, Carew?” I ask as I made my way for the steps.

  His lips tug up into a dark smile. “Lovely to see you again, princess. Sorry our conversation was cut short.”

  Carew is beginning to annoy me. I walk up to him. Wanting to poke him in his bare chest. “Well, the conversation is over. Anyway, what is your problem and what the hell are you doing in Humus. And where are all your little exiles?”

  I know taking my anger over Tristan out on Carew isn’t wise: in fact, it’s downright stupid.

  Carew’s smile falls from his face; he grabs me and drags me into Avitus’ house.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  SARAJANE

  Fear grips my throat as Carew slams the door behind him, I feel very stupid for antagonizing him. He turns to me and I want to run. I’ve never seen him look so frightening before. I take a step back, waiting for him to say something, but he just stares at me with violence in his eyes. “You have no idea of this world. And you think it is all a big game.” He takes two steps forward, backing me into the wall. “If you don’t start listening, you will die.”

  I swallow a lump in my throat; this close, he really is huge and I’m so aware of how easily he could kill me. “Is that a threat?” my words come out in a whisper.

  “What? You think I will kill you?” He gives me a dark smile that sends shivers racing across my flesh. “I won’t have to. There are plenty other people waiting for the right time.” He takes a deep breath, and for the first time his face softens, letting me see him properly. My stomach tightens again and I hate the attraction I feel towards him.

  “Please trust me, Sarajane. I know I haven’t earned it, but this is for your own good. Be careful. Not everything is as it seems.”

  Riddles and more riddles. I am so sick of everyone talking in circles. “Carew, just be straight with me. Who should I not trust?”

  He hesitates, as if unsure whether to tell me or not. “Musa most of all.”

  “When you ask for someone’s trust, you must earn it first,” I say, hoping I sound brave.

  Carew’s lips tug up into a grin at the tremble in my voice. But I don’t let it stop me.

  “The exiles, they are not the people banished to the mountains. How come you never told anyone?”

  Carew doesn’t look surprised at all. Instead, he looks like he doesn’t care. “Why would I tell anyone? Who cares?”

  “I care, because they are the creations of Suraga and she has no right over their souls.”

  One of his brows rises. “How do you know all this?”

  I run my hands along the wall behind me to ground me. “It does not matter how I know. The only thing that matters is what is she creating them for… and more importantly, who is she creating them for?”

  I wait for an answer, but don’t get one. Carew continues to stare at me, as if weighing whether to tell me anything.

  “Trust,” I say as a little reminder of why it is important to answer my question.

  “Yet you won’t tell me how you know this. Now where’s the trust?”

  I almost laugh. “Are you serious? You ask me to trust you… now this has become about me gaining YOUR trust? That’s laughable!”

  “So we don’t trust each other,” he says.

  This feels like such a pointless conversation. “Look, Musa has never done anything to make me not trust him, so unless you give me some sort of a reason, just leave.”

  “Musa is a greedy and selfish old man, and he does not have your best interests at heart.”

  I laugh this time. “Oh yes, and you do.”

  Carew does not join in with my laughter. “Yes, that’s why I came to warn you. I hope you heed me. Good night, Sarajane.”

  I have no words as he stares at me before backing out of the room. I’m left with a huge headache. I hate how he spoke of Musa, he had seemed so genuine.

  I leave Avitus’ shortly after Carew. Avitus doesn’t seem to be here anyway or he would have come to see what all the noise was. So I make my way to the only person I truly trust, Mirium.

  When I reach Mirium’s, voices make me pause under the small window sill. Rain starts to pelt down, soaking me, but I ignore it and strain to hear the conversation.

  “I need you to do this for me, Mirium.” Musa sounds agitated. His voice becomes distant; he must have moved.

  “I need to know why first, Musa. You know the rules better than anyone else.” Mirium must have been close to the window, as his voice sounds clear.

  “They are criminals and from my tribe. So I asked you just help capture them and I shall deal with them myself,” Musa says.

  “I will speak to the council and get back to you, Musa,” Mirium replies.

  There is silence. I duck down smaller under the window sill. As the front door opens, light pours from the door. I am far enough away that it doesn’t reach me, but I still hold my breath. Musa leaves and the door closes behind him. I let out a breath. I’m soaked right through; my body shakes from the cold. A tapping sound makes my heart go into overdrive.

  “Come out of the rain, child,” Mirium says.

  Great. Of course he knows I am here. I stand up and drag my drenched cloak into Mirium’s sitting room. He has a roaring fire burning again. I start to tremble. Mirium gives me a look of amused disapproval before getting me a towel. I remove my cloak and started to dry my hair by the fire. Mirium says nothing and we stay like that for a while. I bask in the heat, letting it warm my skin.

  “Mirium, who was Musa speaking about?” There is no need to beat around the bush; he knows I had heard them talking.

  Mirium moves slowly over to an oval stool that held two little tiny cups and a pot of tea. The steam rises as he pours them out. “Carew and Adora,” Mirium answers as he hands me the tea.

  I look down into the tea, not wanting to show my reaction. “Adora… as in Linda. Why?” I ask.

  Mirium sits back down on his chair beside the window and takes a small sip from his cup. “Why? That is a good question,” is all he says.

  We lapse into silence again.

  “Do you trust Musa?” I ask Mirium, looking at him then. His answer is so important to me.

  He takes his time answering, rubbing his white long beard, like he often does when he’s thinking. His gray eyes grow tired. “I am not sure, yet. I’m not sure. Why did you come here, Sarajane? Avitus will be worried.”

  I roll my eyes. I can’t go anywhere, but still I don’t want to tell Mirium the truth, as I don’t exactly have anything to report back to him, so I keep it light. “I came to visit, that’s all. Avitus was out, so I got bored.”

  A smile creeps up his old face. “Of course you did, child.” He laughs slightly, as if he knows my lie, but lets it go. “Tristan will be here soon. We have some business to attend to, then he can walk you back.”

  I start to protest. But Mirium gives me his look that says there shall be no argument. So I sit like an obedient child.

  “Fine,” I say feeling a bit huffed. I don’t want to see Tristan. We have had enough run-ins for one night. Everything about him is so confusing. Why can it not be boy meets girl? Boy and girl fall in love, full stop. No, it is never that simple.

  A knock at the door sends my heart tripping over itself. But I hope sitting at the fire explains my rosy cheeks.

  “Come in!” Mirium calls.

  I don’t look around, but I can feel Tristan’s heavy stare on me. “Sarajane?” he questions with annoyance.

  “She came to visit,” Mirium explains with a touch of
amusement in his voice.

  I keep my gaze on the flames of the fire, they rise faster and crackle making me want to move back. Not for the first time I wonder if my emotions are effecting the elements around me.

  I can’t see Mirium or Tristan as they sit at the table behind me. My body starts to relax after a while as their voices send me into a lull. I listened for a while as they talk about the war and battle tactics, but the heat of the fire relaxes me even further and I drift off slightly, still aware of their voices.

  I open my eyes when the room is silent. Tristan sits across from me. I reposition myself and rub my eyes. I’m tempted to ask what time it is, but remember there is no time here in Saskia. I glance behind me.

  “He went to bed,” Tristan answers in explanation to Mirium’s empty chair.

  “Was I asleep long?”

  “A while.” Tristan’s gaze dances across my face and now I wonder how long he has been sitting there watching me sleep. There is so much I want to say, but instead I just return my gaze to the fire.

  “I best get back,” I say pushing out of the chair stiffly. I can’t meet Tristan’s eyes as he stands too. He picks up my cloak and hangs it around my shoulders, his hands linger longer than they need to. I want to lean back into him, wanting his warmth, and try to forget about everything and pretend it was just me and him, a woman and a man. “Tristan?”

  “Yes?” His breath fans out across the back of my head.

  “Do you think I am good enough for this?”

  His hands leave my shoulder and he steps into my view. “Why would you ask that? God picked you, Sarajane, and I can see why.”

  Relief floods through me. I hadn’t realized how much Carew’s words had upset me, about how I thought that this was a game. “Sometimes it’s hard to believe in the magic of this world. I know I can see the magic, even feel it, but it is still hard to really believe.”

  Tristan surprises me when he takes my hand in his. He raises it to his mouth and places a kiss on my knuckles before looking at me again. My heart stalls in my chest. He wasn’t good for my heart.

  “In your world,” he says, “Men only lived to thirty-seven years old in 1959. Now they live to a hundred years old. Do you not ever think that in another century that people will live to, let’s say, three hundred? So our immortality will one day be matched with yours.”

  I have to smile at him. “You have been studying our history.”

  A smile grows on his face. His smiles are so rare that my stomach erupts with butterflies, and I can feel the heat climb up my neck and into my cheeks, but I don’t care. The way he is smiling at me is magic.

  “I find mortals interesting,” he says and the smile still lingers on his lips.

  He surprises me again when he moves closer and I can’t look away as he places a soft kiss on my nose before laying his forehead against mine. “Magic is in your world, and you believe in it so strongly that you forget.”

  I look up into his intense stare.

  “You believe that God created your world with his hands, that Jesus turned water to wine, that Moses himself parted a river. I could go on. So how could you believe in that and not believe in ours? Our magic is God’s elements that he gave to your world every day. How is it so hard to believe?”

  I don’t get to answer. Tristan’s lips find mine and he kisses me with so much passion and want, that I feel it all the way down to my toes.

  “I love you, Sarajane Anderson, with every part of my being.” He pauses and his face tightens. “But...”

  I put my finger to his lips. “No buts, Tristan, not now, just for this one moment,” I plead.

  He nods his head, seeing the want in me to just let us be, even if it’s just for a moment.

  “Come on, I better walk you back.”

  I lean up on the tip of my toes and give him a small kiss on the lips. I don’t want to let this moment disappear but I’ve lingered too long already.

  We walked back to Avitus’ hand-in-hand. The warmth of Tristan’s flesh on mine has me taking peeks up at his side profile. He’s everything and more. I try not to think about tomorrow or the next moment, and when we stop outside Avitus’, Tristan lets my hand go. I don’t look at him, I don’t want this perfect moment to end as I climb the steps to Avitus’. When I reach the top step and look back, the street below is empty.

  I creep in and get into bed, not wanting to wake Avitus.

  The next day Avitus tries to teach me how to use my spirit affinity, but I feel so drained. After two hours, Avitus gives up. “Just go to bed, Sarajane.” He looks at me with suspicion. “What has you so tired today?”

  I let my hair fall forward covering my red cheeks. He did not look too fresh himself; I wonder what he was doing last night that he didn’t notice my disappearance.

  “I don’t know. Maybe all the training?” I say.

  Avitus gives me a guilty look, which makes me feel like shit for lying.

  “Maybe you should rest for the day.”

  I leave the room quickly, feeling like such a bad person.

  I can’t sleep, so I decide to try to practice like Avitus taught me. I make myself comfortable on the rug and practiced my breathing, going through the motions, trying to draw the magic toward me. I don’t know if magic is the correct term, but that is how I see it.

  A strain on the line of magic makes me jolt. I close my eyes tighter and pull softly at first, but it won’t budge. I tug a little harder, but instead of the line of magic surrounding me, it pulls me through a tunnel of darkness that sparks into colors, and stops abruptly. I move my hands; they don’t fit or feel right. I feel as if I am closer to the ground.

  “Morrick, we can’t trust them.” My heart races at the sound of Tristan’s voice. I open my eyes and meet Mirium’s, who gives me an odd look. Hair tickles my forehead. What the hell? I don’t have a fringe.

  Then I catch my reflection in a mirror just across from me. My heart thumps against my chest. How is this possible? My eyes move across to Tristan. His ice green eyes turn to me.

  “Alana, is there something you want to say?” he asks. Annoyance laces his words,

  I’m Alana. That is who he saw. I try to breathe.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  SARAJANE

  “No.” I choke on the word, hearing Alana’s voice. Tristan shakes his head in annoyance and confusion. He goes to continue his conversation, but Mirium raises his hand, and walks toward me. The look on his face suggests he knows it is me.

  “The eyes are the door to the soul,” he says as he stops right in front of me. I lower my lids. Mirium leans in and whisper, “Sarajane,” and my eyes shoot up, meeting his powerful stare. “Out!” he says. I am falling backward through the dark tunnel, looking at Morrick and Tristan’s worried faces. Their faces become smaller and further away. I slam back into my body, landing flat on my back. My breathing is heavy and ragged and sweat coats my face. The exhaustion tugs at me as a slow smile spreads across my face, with the knowledge of entering someone’s body.

  I wake in the early hours of the morning. I get up stiff and sore from lying on the floor. Slipping out of my room, I move quietly down the hall, avoiding all the creaky floorboards that I have learned by heart. Sneaking through a dark city at night is no fun, especially if Tristan, Linda or Carew are around, but I hope no one is looking for me at this hour of the morning.

  I get to the building where mum and Jessica are staying and sneak in without any interruptions. Two soldiers are stationed in the hall, they look bored and don’t notice me as I pass through the shadows.

  Taking the stairs is easy, as the steps are made from stone—no creaks. But finding Jessica could prove to be a problem. Opening each unlocked door as I pass, it shows I am not so lucky. What if she is behind a locked door? Two more and then I will leave.

  The next door opens and Jessica is curled up in her bed. I close the door gently behind me. Mum is asleep across from her. I reach Jessica’s bed and give her a little shake. Jessica’s e
yes open slowly as she looks at me.

  She rubs her eyes. “What are you doing here?” she asks as she realizes where she is.

  “Sh.” I place my finger on my lips and point at mum, then I point at the door. Jessica nods.

  I leave and wait for her outside in the hall. A few moments later, she joins me with a small backpack on her back. I make my way for the stairs, but Jessica grabs my arm, indicating the other way. We leave through a back stairway and out a small door into the morning air. Once outside, we don’t need to whisper.

  “I will remember that the next time.”

  Jessica smiles. “It’s handy. I don’t have to hang around when Morrick comes over. It’s a great escape.”

  I look at Jessica, horrified, but she laughs and makes a puking gesture. “Sarajane, you have such a dirty mind. When he comes over to talk in his posh accent.” I laugh knowing exactly what she means.

  We make our way to the fountain where Jessica had shown up only yesterday. It already felt like ages ago. Jessica sets her backpack on the ground and rummages through it, taking out a tin box. “Here,” she says handing me the box. “What is it?.”

  “You have to open it.”

  I open it, but I just laugh when I see its contents.

  Jessica leans over and looks in. “This obviously isn’t for me.”

  Tears sprang to her eyes. “It’s a piece of home.”

  I sink my fingers into the sand thats from a beach close to our home. “Maybe one day I’ll see it again.”

  Jessica brushes away a tear. “Yeah, maybe.”

  She sounds how I feel. I’m not sure if I will ever see home again. What if I can’t save Saskia? At times it all feels too much. I find it easier if I don’t linger on it.

  “Do you look at me differently?” Jessica starts. “You know, only being your half-sister?” She looks away as if afraid of the answer.

  I grab both her hands. “Don’t ever say that. You are my sister no matter what. And if you weren’t, I know you would be my best friend. In the whole world.”

  She smiles, lifting my heart.