by Nashoda Rose
Tears?
My heart pounded so hard it echoed in my ears. I opened up my scenting ability and smelled the mixture of fear and anguish emanating from Jedrik’s pores.
I shook my head as terror gripped me for the words he’d not yet said.
“It’s Waleron.” The deep valley between his brows creased. “I don’t know how to tell you…. Christ.”
My breath stopped.
Everything inside me stilled.
No.
Waleron was fine. I’d know if something was wrong. I’d feel it.
He was a Taldeburu. Nothing could hurt him.
“The Lilac… Jesus, Delara.”
My heart skipped a beat and I yanked from his grip, staggering backward. “No. Please. Don’t say it.” If he didn’t say the words, it wouldn’t be true.
He dragged a hand down his face. “Christ. Delara. Waleron is dead. The Lilac, Jasmine, killed him.” No, he’s lying. He’s lying to me. “Zurina found his blood near the docks. She placed her hands in the blood and saw the images. She saw him being killed, and Jasmine… the Lilac sucked the air from his lungs, Delara. Her images went dark.” His words were like rough pebbles, as if something were lodged in his throat. “Waleron’s gone. I’m so sorry. God, I know you loved him. We all did.”
His words continued, but I no longer heard them as I stood frozen, staring at nothing because nothing was real or logical. The sun was a blur, the heat on my skin cold, the man in front of me a stranger.
It was impossible. Waleron was our Taldeburu, one of the strongest. His Ink, the snake tattoo on his neck and shoulder, was rumored to be the most powerful of all Inks. A Lilac could never defeat him.
They were wrong. They had to be wrong.
“No! It’s a mistake. Zurina made a mistake. Waleron is alive. We need to find him.” I ran for the house, but my legs shook so badly that I stumbled several times, finally falling to my hands and knees.
“Delara.” Jedrik snagged my arm and hauled me to a stop as I scrambled to my feet. “Delara. He’s not coming back.”
I glared at him. “No. You’re lying. It’s a lie. I’d know.” God, I’d know. I’d feel it if he died.
A tear trailed down Jedrik’s cheek. A tear. I’d known him since we were kids and he’d never cried. Ever. Even when that horse kicked him in the chest and broke all his ribs. Or when he fell off that cliff and shattered his leg when he was eight.
It was like a punch to the stomach.
“Nooooo,” I screamed as the reality of his words slammed into me.
My legs gave out and I collapsed to the gravel before Jedrik could catch me. “No. Please. No.” The words tore through my throat between choked sobs. “Please, I’m begging you. Not him. Not Waleron, please. Please.”
The sobs engulfed me as I dug at the gravel, pawing like a wild animal trapped in a cage, the stones tearing at my skin, imbedding beneath my fingernails.
“Delara. I’m sorry. Christ, I don’t know what to do here.” His arms came around me and tried to lift me off the ground.
“No!” I shouted. “No.” I flailed against his embrace, but he refused to let me go.
Tears streamed down my cheeks as my mind spun in a tornado of devastation. I couldn’t grasp the truth; it spun out of my reach only to slam into me again.
“No. I’d know. I’d… I’d feel it.” I punched my fists into Jedrik’s chest. “He’d never leave me, Jedrik. He promised.”
“It’s a promise he shouldn’t have made.” Jedrik trapped me in his arms, rocking back and forth, murmuring soft, soothing words. “Shhh. We’ll get through this. I’ll look after you. We all will.”
“I need him. Oh God, please… I. Need. Him.” The agony clutching at my soul was unbearable. I glanced up at him, but my tears blurred his face. “I can’t… I can’t live without him, Jedrik. Please, please bring him back. Bring him back. A Healer—”
He caressed my hair, his hands trailing down my back. “He’s not coming back, sweetie.”
His words ripped through my heart, cutting out every ounce of sanity, reality, and logic.
Waleron would never leave me. He’d promised. He’d promised we’d be together for eternity.
A roar erupted from my lungs and Jedrik grabbed the back of my head and pushed it into his chest, muffling my screams.
Escape. Find him. Help him. Be with him.
“Please, Delara,” Jedrik whispered in a haggard tone. “Please stop.”
His tears dripped onto the top of my head, his sorrow merged with my own. But the pain was trapped inside me and I couldn’t stop the screams as they tore from my constricted throat. Over and over again, until finally there was nothing left, my voice ragged and broken, throat raw.
“He promised,” I whispered. “I can’t let him…. I love him. Please, I love him. I can’t lose him. Bring him back. I’m begging you.”
“I can’t, sass. Jesus, I’d do anything for you, but I can’t do this.”
My breath came in short, jagged gasps; I desperately tried to control the darkness that invaded—but there was no return from the despair.
Living without Waleron was like asking me to live without my heart. To breathe without air. To feel without life.
Another choking sob wrenched from my throat and I buried my head in my hands.
“I will always be here. The Talde, too, we’re here for you. We all loved him.” Jedrik cradled me in his arms.
“I… I need him to survive. To breathe.” He was my other half. How could I survive without him? How could I open my eyes in the morning to know he wasn’t ever going to hold me in his arms again? I’d never feel his lips. His touch. His whispered words, or see his blue eyes filled with love whenever he looked at me.
Escape. I had to escape.
I jerked from Jedrik’s arms, scrambled to my feet, uncertain what escape meant except maybe death as my sanctuary.
Jedrik hooked his arms around me before I could run. I flailed against his hold, kicking and screaming with a hoarse, crackled cry. “Stop. Jesus, Delara, stop.” His grip tightened and I fought harder, needing to be free from the pain.
Keir’s deep voice penetrated through my frantic need to escape. “Take her upstairs. Have Zurina put her in Deep Sleep.” I stilled for a second as Keir stopped in front of us. He reached out to touch my ravaged, tear-streaked face, but pulled back, arm dropping to his side. “We’re family, Delara. Your loss is ours. We heal together.”
“Keir. Please, let me see him. I want to see him,” I pleaded.
He sighed, lips pursed as he looked at Jedrik. “Their bond was too strong. A Taldeburu’s bond.”
“Yeah,” Jedrik said.
“I need to see him. Let me see him. He’s not dead. I’d know it! I’d know.” I was rambling, words rushing out of me with panic as Jedrik picked me up in his arms and threw me over his shoulder.
“No. Take me to where it happened. Please.” I pounded my fists into his back, but he ignored my pleas as he strode into the house and up the stairs.
My words were lost to the sobs and the fight slowly died as I faded into an abyss of anguish.
Reality slipped away and left behind misery that jigsawed its way through my mind, ripping it apart and putting it back together again and again.
Jedrik lowered me onto a soft, warm surface.
“No,” I murmured.
I fought the comfort.
I fought the hands holding me down.
I fought the heaviness in my mind as Zurina’s voice chanted the words of DS, Deep Sleep.
I fought the life I had to live without him.
Until nothingness claimed me.
Three months later
LOST IN A CHASM OF crushing sorrow, I lie curled in a ball on the hardwood floor, listening to the whistling wind. It rhythmically rustled the lace curtains as it came through the open window and brushed over my skin.
I shivered violently, teeth chattering as the cold breeze sank into my bones.
My mind ple
aded for warmth, but I denied it that salvation.
I searched for the physical pain in order to kill the emotional.
End the pain of losing him.
“Delara! Jesus. What the hell are you doing?” Jedrik stormed over to the window and slammed it shut, causing the glass vase on the sill to fall and shatter on the floor.
He ignored it, striding back toward me, then crouched and picked me up in his arms. I didn’t fight him. Not today. I had no strength to fight the comfort today.
“Sass, this can’t continue.”
He laid me on the bed then grabbed the blankets and pulled them over my trembling body.
My body sighed with relief while parts of me rebelled against the comfort. I didn’t want comfort or warmth; I wanted pain.
For weeks or months, I no longer knew which, I’d remained alone in my room, fighting Jedrik, Keir, or anyone else who tried to make me leave. I reacted so violently that they finally stopped.
And then they stopped coming in my room altogether.
Except Jedrik. He came to see me every day. Weeks ago, he’d picked me up and thrown me in a bathtub filled with freezing cold water. The effect wasn’t what he wanted, because I craved the numbness, the cold to blanket me in its arms and take me away.
He’d been so mad, he threw a cloth and bar of soap at me, told me I stank, and stormed out.
Sometimes Jedrik sat on the floor near the door and read a book to me, and other times he’d say nothing at all. I liked those times.
Quiet. Nothingness.
Lately, he’d been more persistent, shouting at me, even threatening to call one of the Wraiths. But as each day passed the fog around my mind deepened and I felt my body fading.
Alone. Desolate. Unable to climb from the darkness that kept me locked away. I’d fallen down a long, dark tunnel. Trapped, yet I was safe here from the pain.
The mattress sagged as Jedrik sat on the edge. “Delara, the Taldeburu of Europe, is on his way here. You’ve heard of Xamien, right? A Reflector. He can help you get through this. I know your bond with Waleron was strong, but he wouldn’t want you to die. I don’t want you to die.”
He smoothed back my hair and I closed my eyes, the trembling easing.
I’m almost there.
Deeper into the darkness from where I’d never emerge. Where I was safe.
A shield lowered over my mind and I felt myself slip further and further away.
“Waleron,” I whispered.
“Delara. Open your eyes. No, damn it. Stay with me.”
Was someone shaking me? I had to go further.
Darkness enveloped me and Jedrik slipped away. Everything did. I was alone with my nothingness.
“I don’t know how long it will take to reach her mind. Her shields will be strong and she’ll fight to keep me out.” I’d never met the Tracker Delara, but I’d heard of her and Waleron’s immeasurable love. Christ, everyone had. And from the moment I walked into the Talde house, I felt her all-consuming grief. “I may need your assistance. I’m uncertain what I’ll find once I’ve connected with her.”
Jedrik nodded. “Anything. I’ll wait outside the door until you need me. However long it takes. Whatever it takes. She can’t stay like this. She hasn’t moved in days, almost like she’s in Rest. Her body has shut down and I can’t wake her anymore.”
Rest was a state a Taldeburu put a Scar into when they were imprisoned. Their body shut down and the Scar was forced to relive their nightmares over and over again.
Delara was lost deep within her mind and shutting down. Soon there would be no way back for her.
I felt the love Jedrik had for Delara and it was that of a brother for his sister, a love so unconditional it could never be broken. If I could reach Delara and bring her partway back, then Jedrik could do the rest.
“It may be hours,” I said.
“I know.”
I nodded then opened the bedroom door.
Immediately, I was overwhelmed with the scent of stale, morbid air. Grief lived and breathed in this room. Jesus Christ, the woman was drowning in pain. I worried—even if I brought her back, would she be able to live a normal life? The connection between her and Waleron was too strong, and it was killing her without him.
I walked over to the bed and glanced down at the woman. She was beautiful. Not in a stunning way, but she had natural beauty that people were drawn to.
Far too pale, however. And skinny, with pronounced cheekbones.
I swept a finger across her temple, pushing aside a few stray strands of hair. There was something about her that triggered a familiarity. Maybe it was because I’d lost someone important to me like she had.
“He’d want you to live.” She lie still, her chest barely moving. There were no emotions lingering around her; she was too deep within herself.
I walked to the window, pulled a wooden chair away from the wall, and moved it beside the bed. Sitting, I took her hand in mine, and closed my eyes, immediately searching for the lock that would allow me to enter Delara’s mind.
As a strong Reflector, I had the ability to read emotions and manipulate them. Scars had shields around their minds; a Reflector had to find the lock and the key in order to open the door.
Humans were much easier, as they had no shields; however, every mind had a protective barrier. As far as I knew, I was the only Reflector capable of manipulating a Scar’s mind.
Attempting to enter Delara’s mind was like slamming into an ice block: I had to chip away at it in order to find the key.
Delara’s mind was a dark, empty fortress. Most minds had something on the other side of the wall, but not this one. I searched around it, every nook, every cranny, and was unable to find a single memory, feeling, or emotion.
Her mind was dead.
That meant one thing. She was so far hidden within herself that she’d turned her mind off. I had to find a way to flick the switch. Bring back emotions.
And the way to do that was use the one man who had taken her away—Waleron. If I could lower her shield for one second, I could enter her mind and try to influence it from there.
I’d only met Waleron briefly a couple of times, when I sat on the Deaconry with the Wraiths. But I was able to recall his scent, and that was what I needed her to smell.
The ability to manipulate the air around me wasn’t a gift from the Goddess. It was my mother who’d had the special gift of magic in her veins. It was something I’d never been great at, but I’d learned some of the spells she’d taught me.
I reached into my pants pocket and pulled out the small black marble and rubbed it between my palms. Closing my eyes, I chanted quietly the words my mother had so eloquently spoken, letting the particles of air cling to my skin as the marble grew cold.
“Waleron’s scent let be.” I employed the air toward me, heaviness enveloping me. “Bring forth into me.” I continued to roll the marble between my palms; it was now ice cold.
Suddenly, I was slammed in the chest, my breath knocked out of me as Waleron’s scent emanated from the marble, shot into the air, then settled onto my skin like a blanket.
I opened my eyes, slipped the marble into my pocket, and leaned forward, forearms on the mattress beside Delara’s motionless form.
Patience was the key to her mind. When she smelled Waleron near, she’d release the lock on her mind in order to take in his scent. I’d have one second before the gate closed again.
And if I failed, I knew I wouldn’t have another chance. This was it.
I watched and waited for any signs of movement, but Delara remained passive. Her eyes were closed and languid beneath her lids, her body lifeless, lips parted slightly to take in subtle inhales.
The first sign I had her were the goose bumps on her neck.
I held my breath, waiting.
Her inhales deepened.
Her finger twitched.
“Waleron?”
Her soft voice was a haggard whisper, barely audible. I shifted closer, my palms
resting on either side of her head, hoping, praying I’d be able to enter her mind.
Her eyes moved back and forth beneath her lids then her breath hitched, followed by a choked sob, before a horrific cry emerged from her throat.
I closed my eyes and searched for the break in her mind, a place to enter the darkness. I pushed at the shield again and again trying to find the weak spot I knew was there.
Finally, the wall gave way and I free-fell into her mind, into the cold darkness filled with webs of confusion and grief.
I needed to reach the end of the tunnel in order to knit a path for Delara to return to the living, which meant I had to go back to the beginning. She stayed here because the world had nothing left to offer. Here, deep in her mind, there were memories of him. Waleron.
When I reached the end, I began building a path out of the darkness for her to follow. My scent of Waleron was the lure. But each time I made it further upward; I had to wait while she slowly and cautiously climbed up after me, following Waleron’s scent as if he were the one calling to her.
I tried to stay out of the memories as much as possible, but on occasion, to make a new path, I needed something to entice her. A memory.
Waleron teaching her how to grapple. When she’d fallen out of a tree. Waleron racing across a meadow on horseback after her. Both of them laughing. I’d use their intimacy if I needed to, but for now, she was coming with me out of the darkness.
One more path. I saw the light, but I also felt her hesitation. She was pulling back from me. Fuck. I couldn’t let that happen.
“No, Delara. Come with me,” I said softly. My finger trailed a path down her cheek, hoping she was close enough to the surface of her mind that she could feel my gentle touch.
“Waleron wants you to live.”
She fell back and I swore beneath my breath. If I didn’t take control, I’d lose her.
“Do as I say, Delara. I will not leave you here.” I cupped her cheek. “This place is no longer safe. The memories of him will die and you will be left in the darkness. The light is already fading. Do you feel it? Do you feel your body getting cold? That is the darkness.”
The uncertainty in her mind fought against me. She was frozen. Refusing to go any further. Untrusting.
