Finding Eden

by Camilla Beavers

  My mind stops on that bit of information, “So you're telling me that there may be some information in that room that has the potential to be very damaging.”

  “I never looked at it that way, but yes.”

  “I want the magic on the door changed to recognize only me,” I say after a few moments of thought. “Those men were up to something, and I want it stopped.”

  “Okay,” he says. “There's only one problem.”

  “And what's that?”

  “You don't know the proper way to do it.”

  “Then teach me.”

  Sahariel gives me an exasperated look and rubs his forehead.

  “You don't think I can do it.”

  “No, it's not that,” he says, “it's just that, well, it's a very intense process.”

  “Okay?”

  “I don't know if I want you going through that.”

  “Oh,” I say. “I still want to do it.”

  “I figured you'd say that.”

  He gets up from his chair with a sigh and motions for me to follow him. He puts his finger to his lips, telling me to be quiet as I followed him through the hallway.

  “Where are we going?” I breathe.

  “Samir and Perul will know what to do. We're going to see them.”

  We eventually reach a door and Sahariel knocks softly on the nondescript wood. There's a thump and a soft curse before the door opens and Perul is standing on the other side, belting his robe.

  “Do you have any idea what time it is?” He asks.

  All I can think about is that no, I can't, because there aren't any clocks.

  “I know it's late, but her Highness,” I jab him in the ribs, “would like to speak to you about binding a door to herself.”

  Perul's eyes snap away from their sleepy haze as realization washes over him.

  “Very well,” he says, “let us go wake my brother.”

  Perul shuffles back into his room, only to reemerge seconds later with slippers on and a lit candle in hand. He motions for us to follow him down the hallway to another door around the corner. He knocks on the door only once, and before the second rap can fall, Samir has pulled the door open and is staring at us as if we've each grown a couple more heads.

  “For the love of god, Perul,” he says, “I understand the Queen not knowing the time, but you? It's too early for your shenanigans.”

  I hear Perul sigh and I stifle my laughter.

  “Not sure if you've noticed, but my brother here is the more uptight of us both.”

  “I'm not uptight,” Samir says indignantly, “just because I know it's much too early to be bothering someone at four in the morning does not make me uptight.”

  “So this is what four in the morning feels like,” I mutter to myself.

  “You act as though I don't have a good reason for bothering you,” Perul says.

  “You normally don't.”

  “The Queen would like to learn how to bind a door to herself,” Sahariel says over the bickering brothers.

  Samir stops and looks at me, as if it's the first time he's seeing me. He then glances back at his brother, questions in his eyes, before looking back at me with a calculating look.

  “It'll be close,” he says, “but I believe she can handle it.”

  And just like his brother he emerges from his room with slippers on and a robe tucked around his body. We walk quickly and as quietly as four people can to the library. Once inside, Samir checks the hall for followers, closes the door silently and then locks it.

  “Alright,” he says, “we have to do this quick. Someone is bound to come down the hall and find the door locked. The library is never supposed to be locked.”

  “And besides,” Perul says, “I'm guessing it'd be prudent to keep anyone from figuring out that we've changed the authorizing person to just the Queen.”

  I smile at both the men. Somehow, despite their differences in both opinions and personality, they always seem to agree on so much.

  “Alright,” Perul says once we've reached the records room, “let's do this.”

  Without warning, Perul's hand reaches out and snatches my wrist and he throws me to the door. I hear Samir chanting in the background and my eyes dart to Sahariel, who stands back looking at me with pity. My back hits the door and my head connects with the wood. Then the pain starts.

  It feels like someone has reached into my skull, grabbed my spinal cord, and is attempting to rip it up and out of my body. A deep, searing ache fills my bones and I manage to hold back my guttural scream before it tears out of my throat. Intense stabbing pain fills the rest of my body that the ache doesn't touch.

  Something invades my mind, even through the pain I can feel it, and I try to fight it. Tears wash down my face as I struggle the unknown force.

  “Eden,” I somehow hear Sahariel's whisperings loud and clear, “calm down. It's the magic from the door. The more you fight it the more it will hurt.”

  The cool wash of Sahariel's voice dulls the pain a little and I manage to comply. The magic warms a little, as if approving of my calming down. Magic seats itself firmly in my brain, my body aching all over. Samir stops his chanting of foreign words, and as soon as the last word leaves his lips, the pain rushes from my body and I collapse on the floor.

  “Good job,” Perul kneels next to me, “No one has survived that in a while.”

  Perul offers me his hand, and I take it. Sahariel is at my side in an instant, his strong arm around my waist, offering me strength when I have absolutely none.

  “Come on,” he says, “let's get you back to bed.”

  Samir unlocks the library door and Sahariel practically carries me all the way back to my room. Perul and Samir go their separate ways. He carries me inside my room and tucks me into bed, which seems to be a rather common occurrence these days.

  “I'm sorry.” He says.

  “Why are you sorry?”

  “Because that caused you pain.”

  “Yeah, and?”

  “And I don't want to see you in pain.”

  “Well,” I say, “that was kind of self-inflicted, wasn't it?”

  “That still doesn't make it any better.” He says, “I wish you wouldn't put yourself in situations like that.”

  “Well,” I say, “you're the one who said I'm a magnet for trouble.”

  “That I did,” he says.

  He sighs.

  “Alright,” he says. “Time for you to get some sleep. You're going to need as much as you can get, otherwise you're going to feel horrible tomorrow.”

  I snuggle down into the covers, my body relaxing into the fluffy bed. Sahariel moves to leave my room, but my hand flashes out and grabs his, stopping him. I don't want him to leave, and I think he can sense that.

  “Don't worry,” he pats my hand, “I'm not going anywhere tonight.”

  I smile and watch as he pulls a chair from the corner and sits at my side. His hand finds mine and soon I'm drifting off to sleep with his hand in mine.

  The next morning I wake up and feel Sahariel's warm hand in mine. I turn my head and look at him, seeing that his head is resting on the bed between his arms, his breathing deep. Looks like I've finally managed to catch him sleeping. I turn over on my side to face him and run the fingers that aren't twined with his through his hair.

  I pull my hand back as I feel him wake up and lift his head. He looks around the room then at me, a sheepish expression on his face.

  “Sahariel,” I say his name, an idea coming to my mind.

  “Hmm?” He doesn't look up from our clasped fingers.

  “I want to learn how to fight.”

  His eyes snap to mine before I'm finished with the sentence.

  “What?”

  “I want to learn how to fight,” I repeat. “I want to be able to defend myself.”

  “You're not a fighter, Eden,” he sighs, “that's not the type of person you are. Have you ever even been in a fight before?”

  “Well, no, but that
doesn't mean I can't learn.”

  “Eden,” he says, “you're not a fighter. You're not built like one, and that's not your strength. The only thing you should concentrate on is learning how to control your magic. That's the only offense or defense you'll ever need.”

  I frown at him, but I know that he's right. I've never gotten into a fight because I knew I could never win. I always avoided them. But how can I train my magic to use in battle only to forget it when it's actually important.

  I look down at our hands, which are still laced together, and try to figure out what to do with Illidan. I can't help but wonder where he is.

  “Don't worry about Illidan,” Sahariel practically reads my thoughts, “we will find him. I have men searching as we speak.”

  Sahariel lets go of my hand in favor of wrapping his arms around me for the briefest of moments, causing my heart to thump loudly in my chest. I hear footfalls stop outside my door, and when the rapid knocking is heard on my door, Sahariel lets go of me and goes to open the door.

  “We've found him, Sir,” the man at the door says, “We’ve found Illidan Sornova.”

  My attention is immediately brought to the man. Sahariel frowns at me and ushers the man outside and quickly closes the door. I climb quickly and silently out of bed and rush to the door, hoping that when I press my ear to the wood, I'll be able to hear the conversation on the other side of it.

  I hear something that sounds like a mutter apology and then a clipped reply. But my strain pays off when I catch the words I've wanted to hear ever since I found that missing page. Illidan Sornova has been found. In the abandoned corner within the city.

  I jump away from the door and back into my bed only seconds before Sahariel opens the door and looks at me. I look back at him with the most innocent expression on my face that I can manage.

  “What was that about?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You're lying to me again.” I point out.

  “But it's for your own good,” He says. “And you know it.”

  I flop onto my back in bed, “And there you go, being right again like always.”

  “It happens.”

  There's a light knock on my door and a boy, who I only know as being a servant for one of the women on the committee for festivals, enters the room and slowly walks toward me. I look over at him, trying to figure out why he's come into my room. He motions to me and I sit on the edge of my bed and lean down so he can whisper in my ear.

  The pertinent information enters my ear and as the little boy leaves I slowly sit up and stare at the wall, my eyes wide. This cannot be happening.

  “Eden, are you okay?”

  I turn to him, my face holding an expression that can only be described as horror, “Please tell me this isn't happening.”

  “What?”

  “Dear god, this cannot be happening.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  I don't really answer him; I just sit there and stare at the wall for a few minutes before cradling my head in my hands and shaking my head. Sahariel asks me a few more times what's wrong before getting up and chasing after the little boy.

  This cannot be happening. Is it possible to cancel something like this during a time of war, even if it only happens once every 25 years? I pace back and forth wishing that that little boy hadn't come to me and informed me that the committee had finalized its plans for this mate finding thing. There's not even an English equivalent.

  I stop my pacing and practically rip my hair out with frustration. I do not want to go to it, but for some reason it's sort of mandatory. Does an ultimate power have to go to something mandatory like that? It's like a principal not going to a pep rally or something.

  The edge of my bed sags as I sit down, trying to fend off the butterflies that are rumbling around nervously in my body. With so many things going on right now, why did this stupid thing have to roll around right in the middle of my attempted assassination and a war?

  A soft knock sounds at my door and Kal walks in. He can tell that I'm nervous and that I'm about ready to freak out on someone or something.

  “Your Highness,” he says. “Breathe. Calm down. If you don't then the whole castle is going to erupt into a nervous frenzy.”

  I do as instructed and take a couple deep breaths. It works enough to the point where I don't feel like ripping my own hair out. It also works enough to the point where I know the emotion isn't going to spring away from me like a bagged cat and attack the closest person.

  “Why are you so,” he waves his hand at me, my appearance significant enough to define my mood.

  “You know what's happening next week, right?”

  He looks at the ceiling in thought and then after a few moments he remembers.

  “Oh,” he says. “Is that what has you all nervous?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It's not that bad.”

  I raise an eyebrow at him and he looks back at me guiltily.

  “Okay,” he says. “If you ignore everyone else in the room it's not so bad.”

  “That still doesn't help.”

  He sighs and walks over to me and sits on the bed next to me, offering his friendship to try and soothe me.

  “Is Sahariel going to be there?”

  I shrug and shake my head. I didn't know, but the probability that he'd show up would be very low.

  “Well, who knows,” he gets up and pats my leg, “you may find your soul mate.”

  I roll my eyes and he walks out the door, none of the things he said making me feel any better. I sit and fidget for a few minutes before I decide to pace again, feeling like that's the only way to actually calm myself down. It feels like hours go by and all I'm doing is pacing around, but only a few minutes pass before Sahariel is knocking on my door.

  “You alright?”

  “No,” I say.

  “It's not that bad,” He says.

  “That's not what you said before.” I groan.

  “Are you going to be okay?”

  “I'm going to have to be.” I say, flopping back down on my bed, “Considering what all is happening right now.”

  I rub my face vigorously and try to figure out how I'm going to get all of this stuff taken care of. Out of all the problems facing me right now, Illidan is the only one that I'm remotely close to being able to deal with. The only issue is getting Sahariel to leave long enough for me to leave without him knowing, and being able to leave before he tries to take care of it.

  A yawn breaks through me and I stretch, the beginnings of my plan trying to come together in my mind. Sahariel, having moved to the chair in the corner and picked up a book to read, looks over at me as I rub my temples.

  “Headache?”

  “Yeah,” I say. “A little bit.”

  “Would you like some tea?”

  I sit up and blink at Sahariel. Did he just give me a way of getting rid of him? I thank whatever gods there are for my good luck.

  “That would be amazing.”

  “Alright,” He says. “I'll just call one of the servants and have them get it.”

  “No!” I almost scream the word. Sahariel looks startles at my outburst. “No. It always tastes better when you make it.”

  I smile at him, partly because it wasn't entirely untrue. His tea is infinitely better than anyone else. His book closes with a thud and he walks over to me.

  “Not a problem,” he says. “I will be back in about fifteen minutes with the tea, alright?”

  “That sounds amazing.” We smile at each other and he gets up, ruffles my hair and leaves my room.

  I jump up from my chair and scramble everything together. I practically tear my dress off and rush around my room, trying to tug on a pair of pants and yank my head through a shirt. I crawl under my desk and rip the page from the front of the desk and the support beam.

  Looking around, I try and decide what to do next. I can't go out the door; Sahariel is bound to feel that I've left. My eyes scan the room and fall up
on the window. Can I make it? I throw the window open and peer over the edge. For being in a castle I'm sure not up high. Shrugging, I pull myself halfway through the window and maneuver myself to move all the way outside.

  “I forgot to ask,” I hear on the other side of the door.

  In a panic, I practically fall out of the window as the door opens and Sahariel's head is poking in, asking what type of tea I want. I hold my breath, and though I'm not sure why I do it, I close my eyes as I hear Sahariel walk into the room.

  “Eden?”

  He calls my name as he walks toward the closed door to my bathroom. I bite my lip and hope that the magic in the walls works the other way around and that he can't feel me outside of the room if he's in it. Before I do anything stupid, I pull myself away from the window, shimmy down one floor, and race across the castle courtyard barefoot. My footfalls are silent against the cobblestone and my shadow races behind me in the dark of the night.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  The abandoned section of town looks bad during the day, but in the night it looks ten times creepier. Buildings barely stand against their own weight and half of the roofs are missing. Empty windows stare back at me as I walk down the old road, the weeds growing between the cobblestones adding little comfort to the bottoms of my bare feet.

  The further away from the castle I get, the worse the buildings look. So far all of the buildings I see are either too small for anyone to really hide in well, or don't have any walls. Either way, it's not remotely structural to be considered safe for any type of inhabitants. Human or not.

  Invisible, I creep through the shadows and try to figure out where exactly Illidan might be. If I were him, where would I be? I decide to take some clues from some movies and look for the most out of the way bad guy hang out.

  I move between shadows, shifting between bouts of sprinting and walking. I don't know why I'm attempting to move so stealthy since no one is around, but I'm not going to chance it. Turning the corner, the perfect bad guy hiding place is staring back at me.

  At some time, a person with a little more money must have lived here. Although only one story high, the house is pretty big with what must have once been large French doors and a couple of bay windows. But now the stone is weathered and dirty, the French doors decaying and the bay windows broken and abandoned.