Sacred Breath Series (Books 1-4)

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Sacred Breath Series (Books 1-4) Page 83

by Nadia Scrieva


  “Do not say that. I told you not to…” Elandria sat on the bed and pulled her knees up to her chest. She hugged them tightly, as tears slipped from her eyes. “Do you not think I know precisely how long it has been! Get out! Get out!”

  Trevain reached for his shirt as he obediently headed for the door. He hated this, but he knew that he would be back. He knew that she would accept him.

  “Trevain?” she called after him in a small voice.

  “Yes?” he asked, turning back. He was hoping she would ask him to stay.

  “Please stop knocking on my door.”

  “Stop fucking answering your door!” He stormed out of the room in a rage. He pulled his shirt on as he walked down the hallway briskly. He was so angry that he did not notice the shadow in the hallway before he found himself forcefully slammed into a wall. He cursed for the second time in that horrible minute.

  “Hey, kid,” Visola said in greeting.

  “This isn’t what it looks like,” he said, referring to pulling his clothes on as he exited Elandria’s room. He immediately felt humiliated by his hasty actions.

  Visola raised her eyebrows. “Trevain, I know you’re only fifty-five, but please try to be an adult. Everyone knows there’s something going on between you two.”

  “Everyone?”

  “Yeah. But I’m not here to bitch at you about being a horny teenager. I’m here to talk about that last battle.”

  “I’m kind of upset right now. Can we discuss this in the morning? And can you please stop physically abusing me before every conversation we have?” Trevain asked angrily, pushing Visola’s hands away from his neck.

  “Sorry, habit.” Visola said. “This is important. I was fighting in that battle and halfway through it occurred to me that it seemed kind of… staged.”

  “You were fighting? You’re not supposed to be fighting. How did you get to participate in that battle?”

  “Stole a sub.”

  “Visola!”

  “Don’t judge me, adulterer!”

  Trevain’s fist connected with Visola’s face.

  “Whoa!” Visola said with a grin after a second of seeing stars. “Did you just actually hit me in the face?”

  “My hand hurts, so I must have,” he said, shaking his fist out. “Jesus, what is your face made of?”

  “Ramaris steel, the same as yours.” Visola frowned, crossing her arms across her chest. “Okay, I didn’t want to go here, but since your mother died, and Vachlan is a loser, I guess I’m the closest thing you have to parental guidance.”

  “Oh, please no,” Trevain groaned. “I’m tired.”

  “Orgasms will do that,” Visola remarked. She glared at Trevain for a moment before unexpectedly slamming her knuckles into his jaw, sending him sprawling across the hallway. He cursed again. “That’s how it’s done, kid. Now listen to grandma.”

  She walked forward and crouched down before him. “I know you want to honor the dead, but you can’t do this to Elandria. You need to honor the living as well. She’s been good to you—she’s been devoted. If you can’t stop yourself from going to her room at night, then you should do the right thing and marry the girl.”

  “I… can’t.”

  “Trevain Murphy, what would your mother think?”

  He inhaled raggedly. “She won’t let me talk about it. She won’t even admit that it ever happened. It’s like she just blocks it out of her mind.”

  “Honey, how long has this been going on between you two?” Visola asked.

  “The first time it happened was three years after Aazuria went missing,” he said miserably. “I didn’t mean to ever… it happened three times that year. Then in the fourth year, last year, we promised each other that we’d stop. We didn’t… we stopped for about a year, and I thought it was over. But we started again, and for the past few months, it’s been… regular. What am I doing?”

  “You’re being a child is what you’re doing. You can’t have both of them, so choose. Give Elandria the respect she deserves, or be true to your wife. Make your decision.”

  Trevain clenched his eyes shut tightly. “Grandma. If I marry Elandria, it means that Aazuria is really dead.”

  Visola hesitated when she saw the tears beginning. “It’s been five years, kid…”

  “You’re the one who always says that she’s alive!” Trevain said, as his tears increased.

  “That’s because she is alive. Now, I once told you I would shoot you if you ever hurt Zuri, and I damned well feel like it, but I’ll make an exception since you’re so young and stupid. By betraying Zuri, you have already shown that you have no faith in my girl. That means you didn’t deserve her to begin with. I’m ashamed of you.”

  “That’s not it,” he said forcefully. “It wasn’t that I didn’t have faith in Zuri, and it wasn’t that I didn’t love her. It was just that circumstances forced me to spend all this time with Elandria, and…”

  “There’s always an excuse,” Visola said, “and there are much better excuses than ‘circumstances!’ Believe me, I’ve used them all.” The older woman snorted. “Listen, kid. You need to accept that you’re with Elandria now. You have been with Elandria for a longer period of time than you were ever with Zuri.”

  “But when you and my grandfather were apart, he was with Atargatis for over fifty years…”

  “And I threw a knife into her eye. I hate to tell you this, but Zuri loves her sister. She would never do anything to hurt her. And if Zuri returned today, and she found out that you were ‘regularly’ sleeping with her sister, it would be instantly over between you. She would accept that you were with Elandria and wish you both happiness. If it happened in five years, or ten or twenty years, the result would always be the same.”

  “So I’ve already ruined it?”

  “Of course,” Visola said. “And if she is dead—she still wishes you both happiness.”

  Trevain nodded. “What would you do? If my grandfather died?”

  “Me? Uhhh. Good question. Well, your grandpa up and left me for 200 years. And I hated him. And I wanted to kill him. And I slept with lots of people. Lots. But I knew I was never giving my heart to anyone else.” Visola smiled at Trevain. “He’s it for me. I wouldn’t ever consider marrying anyone else. He’s my perfect match. Perfect. So it’s lucky I met him, or you wouldn’t be here!”

  Trevain sighed. “I do love Elandria, and I do want to be with her.”

  “Then what in Sedna’s good name are you waiting for?” Visola asked, rising to her feet. “Life is short. Appreciate every minute of it while you can. Zuri would want you to.”

  “Thanks,” Trevain said softly. His grandmother was already walking away. “I mean it. Thanks.”

  She waved her hand in dismissal. “We’ll talk about matters of state in the morning. Fucking wimpy soap opera king.”

  Trevain had a chuckle at the expense of himself.

  “I was expecting you,” said the shrouded woman.

  “Of course you were,” Trevain responded. “That’s your job, isn’t it? To know what to expect?”

  Elandria placed a hand on Trevain’s arm to soothe him. “Be nice.”

  “So you two are here to find out whether you should get married? Whether you should become king and queen of Adlivun?”

  “No,” Elandria said. “We’re here to find out if my sister is alive.”

  The woman laughed. “The real question is: are those inquiries one and the same?”

  “Mother Melusina,” Trevain said awkwardly. “I was told that you needed something of Aazuria’s. I have brought her hairbrush. We left her room untouched for these past five years.”

  “Excellent,” the woman said, taking the tortoiseshell handle. “I only need a single strand of hair.”

  There was a giant globe of ice before her, and Melusina uncorked the top of the sphere. She slipped the strand of hair inside and said a few words. She added a sprinkle of dirt, and said a few more words. Next, she added a few drops of water.

/>   “This is ridiculous,” Trevain said to Elandria. “You can’t honestly believe that…”

  When Mother Melusina lit a match and dropped it into the globe, the whole sphere began to glow with an otherworldly light.

  “I can see how that would be convincing,” Trevain remarked.

  “Hush!” Elandria said, hitting him in the chest.

  When the glow simmered down, Melusina let out a sigh. “I am sorry, children. Queen Aazuria Vellamo is dead.”

  “That’s really helpful,” Trevain said, turning to leave.

  “How can you know?” Elandria asked, rushing forward to stare at the globe. “How do you tell?”

  “Well, this is a simple locator blessing, my child. The globe usually glows to indicate the location of the person if they are on the planet. As you can see, there is nothing lit up… wait. Wait.”

  The priestess gripped the heavy globe and tried to lift it. She struggled for a minute before she finally could roll it a few inches over. “Sedna spare me!” she muttered.

  “What is it?” Elandria asked, although she could plainly see the small glowing light on the bottom of the globe.

  “Antarctica,” Mother Melusina said in wonder. “Your queen is alive, but she’s at the bottom of the world.”

  “Wow, she sure does change her mind fast, doesn’t she?” Trevain asked. “This was a useless waste of time. Let’s go, Elan.”

  “But what if it’s true?” Elandria asked. “Shouldn’t we send the Americans to look for her? Or Visola’s elite forces?”

  “This is a ridiculous waste of time, Elandria. I don’t know if Aazuria is alive or not, but I’m pretty sure she isn’t in fucking Antarctica.”

  Chapter 25: Thief of Years

  “Again, Varia.”

  “Must we, Mother?”

  “I said again!”

  Varia sighed as she picked up the heavy ice club. It probably weighed more than she did. She lifted it over her shoulder shakily, crouching to balance the weight evenly on both feet. “Fine, but if I can hit you, I want a new story tonight. I get to choose.”

  “Sure, darling.”

  Varia launched herself at her mother, attacking with all of the strength and speed she had developed over the years. Aazuria easily dodged the advances and blocked the onslaught of the club every time it came close to her.

  “You’re not focusing,” Aazuria accused. “Be alert, Varia.”

  The eight-year old girl spun around, desperately trying to hit her mother. She swung and swung the weapon, but could not maneuver its heavy weight. She sighed in frustration at this pointless exercise.

  “I told you to use your lungs, Varia! Find the power in you—yell it out!”

  “Hah!” Varia yelled as she thrust the club forward, trying to connect it with her mother’s abdomen. Aazuria easily stepped aside. Varia had overextended herself in the thrust, and Aazuria used one hand to give a gentle tug to the club, and it sent Varia hurtling face first to the floor.

  “Your balance, child!” Aazuria complained. “Have I taught you nothing? You cannot fight if you cannot stand on your own two feet.”

  Varia grew angry. She picked up the club and planted it firmly on the ground before using it to lift herself up and kick her mother in the stomach. Aazuria stumbled backwards in surprise.

  “Oh, no,” Varia said. “I’m so sorry. I just got upset. I didn’t mean to stop using the club.”

  “But you did,” Aazuria said with a smile. “Sometimes it’s important to know when a weapon does you more harm than good, and you instinctively realized the only way you could hit me was to be fast enough to land a blow. The club compromised your agility, and you were better off using your body. You made the correct decision—this was good thinking.”

  “I don’t think I did that much thinking,” Varia said. “I was just angry.”

  “Then you had better create a list of things which make you angry so you can summon that anger on the spot. It makes you into a better fighter.”

  “Yes, Mother,” Varia said, bowing respectfully. “But if I did hit you and it counts, do I get my story?”

  “Of course,” Aazuria told her fondly. “Which story would you like?”

  “Something brand new I’ve never heard before, please. Something with an adventure.”

  “What kind of adventure, darling?”

  “Hunting something. In the water.”

  “Ah. Have I ever told you about Moby Dick?”

  “No,” Varia said, climbing onto the bed eagerly. “I want to hear it!”

  Aazuria smiled and joined her daughter on the bed. She was conscious that she no longer looked as young as she had when she had met her husband. She had done hundreds of push-ups every day of her captivity, and she had taken care of her daughter. She had kept them out of the water as much as possible to accelerate Varia’s aging process to increase her size and strength. Aazuria now looked like she was in her late twenties. Her body was less slender and girlish—it was more solid and robust.

  Even though she hated the little cabin with all the passion she could muster, Aazuria could not deny that she felt happy as her daughter’s head rested on her shoulder, and her different-colored eyes were fixated at a distant point in space as she imagined the scenes from the story. It was heavenly just to be here like this. Three whole years had passed since their attempted escape, and the prince had changed the codes on the elevator. No one had responded to Aazuria’s multiple S.O.S. writings in the snow.

  However, Aazuria had learned a valuable lesson from that experience. She had learned that her daughter’s life was too valuable to risk. She had learned to appreciate these simple moments of storytelling, and she had learned to force Varia to grow stronger and more athletic than any other child was expected to be. Varia also needed to be as humanly intelligent and clever as possible. Only all of this would keep her safe.

  As Aazuria conjured the scenes from Moby Dick, and tried her best to accurately describe the characters, she truly wished she had the book to read from. It was not the same without the precise narrative, even though she remembered the general ideas of what had happened. She often felt like she was making the story up from scratch.

  When she mentioned harpoons, and Varia asked for a description of the weapon, she smiled and showed her daughter her shoulder. She explained the story of how her enemy, Atargatis, had impaled her with a harpoon. She described how Trevain had gallantly saved her life.

  “That’s so romantic, Mother. He sounds so heroic!”

  “He really is, darling.”

  Aazuria returned to the story, but often grew sidetracked when something reminded her of Trevain. She spent far too much time talking about how her husband was also a sea captain, and comparing him to the captain from the story. Varia listened curiously.

  “I wish I could go whale-hunting,” the young girl finally said whimsically.

  Aazuria found herself freezing on the spot. A chill traveled through her spine, especially spreading through her neck. She felt a sensation similar to tingly, prickly cold needles attacking the base of her skull. Her head turned to Varia sharply.

  “What did you say?”

  Aazuria stood to the side of the cabin, quietly watching the touching father-daughter scene unfolding before her. She had a soft spot for fathers. Especially for fathers as kind and loving as Prince Zalcan Hamnil.

  “It was so kind of you to come sooner for my birthday,” Varia said enthusiastically. She reached out to give the disfigured man a loving hug before she stepped back to look up at him through sparkling young eyes. “I missed you.”

  It all unfolded in Aazuria’s mind more like a memory than something which was actually happening. She could see herself standing there before her own father and saying similar words. She could see that she had been blind to the way everyone else saw him for so long, while he had been blind to the fact that she would someday see. Their explosive combination of mutual blindness had resulted in much manipulation and heartache. Aazuria had
been victorious, and now she would be again.

  “I have something for the birthday girl,” Hamnil was saying as he handed her a package. “Go ahead and open it up, my pretty Pearl.”

  Varia compliantly opened the package, exposing a book. To her earnest surprise, it was Moby Dick. She looked up at her mother, displaying a startled expression. They had not planned for this.

  “Papa, this is lovely. Thank you, but Mother has already told me the story of Ishmael and Ahab. It is a beautiful story, and I am sure we will enjoy reading it again.” Varia let out a deep sigh. “I just wish… never mind.”

  “Tell me. What will make you happy, my pretty Pearl?”

  “I want to see the world. I am so bored here. Mother tells me all these stories…”

  “The stories aren’t true. This is all there is of the world.”

  Varia scrunched up her face. “I’m not a child anymore, Papa,” Varia said. “You can’t tell me lies forever.”

  “Little Pearl, I just…” Prince Zalcan Hamnil was surprised when Varia flounced off, running away into the chamber that led to the lake.

  “Don’t worry too much about her,” Aazuria said softly. “She’s at that age where she becomes sensitive and upset over everything. We’ve been having a lot of arguments lately.”

  “About what?” the prince asked.

  Aazuria was quiet for a moment before giving a gentle shrug. “She’s curious and bright. She yearns to see other places.”

  “I feel guilty for keeping her locked up here,” Hamnil admitted.

  “Well, it is her birthday. Eight years and she has never seen the sunlight. Maybe… you could treat her to a little trip?” Aazuria suggested “She has become obsessed with the idea of whaling since I told her the story of Moby Dick.”

  “Why do you tell her so many damnable stories anyway?”

  Aazuria gave a faint sigh before she turned to him. She coaxed her eyeballs to obey her will in sending out potent waves of sorrow to arouse his pity. Before several seconds had passed, her eyelashes were shimmering.

 

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