“By the stars,” Mikel whispered, placing his head in his hands.
Jaron remained stoic. “What happened on the trail?”
Citera hesitated. She glanced over at her father then back at Jaron. “I’d rather not talk about that.”
“Does it have to do with the other night?” Jaron asked. He didn’t have to say which night, they both already knew what he was referring to.
Citera nodded her head.
“Tell me,” Jaron said, after taking a moment to appreciate her reluctance to share his and K’s fight in front of her father. “It’s all right.”
Mikel raised his head and looked at the two of them, his brow furrowed. “Are we talking about the night you got that?” Mikel pointed at the stiches on his forehead. Jaron simply nodded.
Citera sighed, “Yes, me and Dirik were talking about it. He was telling me he saw K standing outside the tent after I went inside to check on you. Dirik said she seemed sad, that he could feel her sadness, and that he didn’t think she was coming back.”
For a moment she thought she saw a flash of emotion in Jaron’s features, but it disappeared before she could identify it. “What else?” he asked, his voice firm.
“I started to think about what would happen to all of us if she didn’t come back. Then all these images flashed in my mind, images of the Black guard finding and attacking the camp. It was like I was having another nightmare, except this time I was awake.” As she continued, Citera struggled to push back the tears. “It was terrible, people were crying, things were on fire, and there was blood and death everywhere. I could feel everything they were feeling, all their despair, all their sadness, and their fear. It hurt so bad I couldn’t breathe …”
Citera lost her battle with the tears and they began to flow like a river down her cheeks. Mikel reached out, encircling his daughter in his arms. Jaron stood silent.
“Where is K? And what have the two of you done to my daughter?” Mikel snapped at Jaron.
“I don’t know where she is,” Jaron answered calmly, “but she is close.”
“You didn’t answer my other question. What have the two of you done to my daughter?” Mikel glared at Jaron, cradling Citera protectively in his arms. “I don’t think it is any coincidence all this started happening after she found you in your tent, and now that I know for certain K was involved, the two of you damn sure better start giving me some straight answers.”
Jaron watched the two of them silently, debating internally as to how far he should go, and how much he should reveal. But as he studied the face of the young girl crying uncontrollably and the desperation on her father’s face, Jaron knew deep down that he couldn’t keep the truth from them any longer.
“We didn’t do anything, Mikel. What is happening to Citera is beyond even our powers to control,” Jaron addressed them, his stoic expression unwavering. “K can help, but if Citera is in this bad of shape, I fear K is much worse.”
Mikel and Citera both stared at him, Mikel’s gaze full of rage. “What have you done to my daughter?” he bellowed, the sound of his angst echoing through the forest around them.
Jaron’s emotionless face remained unreadable; if he was angry or frustrated by Mikel’s ire being directed at him, he refused to show it. “We didn’t do it, fate did.” Jaron sighed and looked down at Citera’s blotchy face, his features softening slightly. “She is K’s Link.”
“Link? What does that mean?” Mikel snapped angrily.
Jaron sighed, his heart heavy with the burden of revealing information to the father and daughter that, in any normal circumstance K would have done herself. The goal had been to shelter the pair from the truth until Citera had showed signs of feeling the link on her own. It had honestly surprised him that she had not exhibited any symptoms until the night of their fight, unfortunately though, it seemed whatever had happened, caused them all to hit her at once.
But with K’s recent behavior and disappearance, along with Citera’s current condition, he could see now he had no other choice but to tell them the truth. Taking a deep breath he tried to find a way to relay the information to them in a manner that wouldn’t cause them more distress than necessary.
“Remember the first night we were traveling together and K told you about her immortality, and that there were others out there like her?”
The pair of them nodded silently.
“Well as surprising as this may sound,” Jaron continued, with more than a hint of sarcasm in his tone, “K has not always seen eye to eye with the other immortals, who believe her to be dangerous because of her vast powers and their emotional ties.”
Mikel humphed, “Big surprise there.”
“Yes, well, there was a bad time in K’s existence when she allowed her darkness to take control and consume her completely. For lack of a better word, she went mad.” Jaron leaned against the bed, feeling the burden of what he was about to reveal. “I wasn’t there, it all happened before my time, but I have heard the stories from the other council members. They say she wiped out entire towns, slaughtering without remorse, growing stronger and stronger off the blood of the innocent.”
Citera gasped and covered her mouth; Mikel, however, was strangely quiet.
“It was during this time that the council decided something had to be done so that she would never feel the temptation to succumb to her darker emotions again. Working together they bound her powers by placing her under a spell, tying her life energy to that of a mortal with an innocent soul. They reasoned that if K was forced to feel what the mortals around her felt and saw the world through their eyes, then she would be less inclined to destroy it. And so it has been since, whenever K awakens, the spell automatically binds her to the closest person with a pure soul. Creating a mortal link between K and the time she is living in.”
“Well tell her to find someone else!” Mikel growled at Jaron. Citera flinched inadvertently, having never seen or heard her father so angry. Removing his arm from around her, Mikel leaned over the bed, nearly on top of Citera. “Why did she have to pick my daughter?”
“K doesn’t pick the Link, Mikel.” Jaron sighed, running his hands through his hair. “It’s completely random. Like I said, it is usually someone near her when she awakens, often a girl, usually young, and always someone pure at heart.” Jaron paused, looking down at Citera. “The Link causes the individual chosen to feel an affinity for K, a need to be near her, and K feels the same for her. They long to be near one another because they feed off the other’s energy and emotions.”
“Emotions,” Citera whispered. “All the emotions I have been feeling, they were hers?”
“Yes,” Jaron answered quietly. “That’s part of her punishment. The Council made it so that K not only feels the link’s emotions, but the link can also feel some of hers. It is more noticeable though when she loses control. When that happens the intense emotions she is dealing with can cause discomfort and pain for the link. In return the link returns the pain back to K infinitely worse because they are experiencing it within a mortal body. It’s an exhausting, never ending cycle that drains them both in times like the present when K is in turmoil.”
Mikel looked down at his daughter as her gaze met his. He couldn’t help but feel he had failed her. It was supposed to be his job as her father to protect her, but instead of thinking of her safety, he had allowed Rigar to carry K through the clinic doors back at Vicaris. Now, because of his foolish sense of righteousness, his daughter was linked to an immortal that held all of their fates in her hand and depended on an emotional connection with her to keep from going completely mad.
“How do we break the Link?” a voice asked from behind the three of them. All their attention turned to Dirik, who stood in the entrance of the medical tent holding a plate of food. He came inside and set the plate on the table, filling the air around them with the aroma of freshly cooked vegetables and warm bread. The smell reawakened Citera’s empty stomach and brought on another wave of cramps.
Joi
ning Mikel on the side of the bed opposite Jaron, he repeated, “How do we undo this?”
Jaron stared over the three of them. “You can’t, only in death does the Link break.”
Mikel collapsed in the chair. “So she is stuck living with all these emotions that aren’t even hers?”
Jaron’s answer was simple and final. “Yes.”
“What about the nightmares, is K giving me those, too?” Citera asked quietly.
“No. The nightmares are your mind’s way of trying to make sense of emotions it doesn’t understand, by using past memories and thoughts it most closely relates to those particular emotions.”
“Despair over my dad’s arrest, sadness over Mom’s death, and fear of Jarod,” Citera recited, looking over their forlorn faces. But something didn’t make any sense. “Why didn’t I feel anything before? All this only started the day after the two of you fought.”
“Because until then she had been controlling her emotions, like the Link wants her to do so you aren’t forced to feel them. The night we argued, she lost control and hasn’t been able to regain it on her own. It’s why she has been keeping her distance; she is trying to protect everyone from herself, especially you.”
“What if they separate more, will the effects ease?” Dirik asked, frowning at Jaron. “Or better yet, why can’t we just leave here and sever it completely?”
Jaron shook his head. “I asked her the same thing when I first figured out Citera was the Link. Although she didn’t want to tell me at first, she eventually explained the spell was designed so that separating wasn’t an option. While distance might alleviate some of the effects on both parties, if they become separated for too long or for too great a distance, both of them will become physically ill until the distance between them is closed.”
“Is there any good news?” Citera groaned, flopping back into the bed.
“Depends. What is your opinion of semi-immortality?”
Citera sat straight up in the bed, Mikel’s eyes bulged, and Dirik’s jaw hit the floor, “What?” they exclaimed simultaneously.
Jaron shrugged. “As long as K’s heart beats, Citera will not age and she will be immune to disease and illness.”
Not age? The idea was both intriguing and frightening at the same time. Citera stared at her hands, turning them over back and forth in front of her. Not age. I’m going to be stuck seventeen until one of us dies? She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to meet her father’s gaze. She turned from him, studying Dirik and then Jaron. They were all staring at her with the same expression, much like the one she and her father had worn when they stood over her mother watching as she died.
“Don’t!” she shouted, raising her head and pushing her father’s hand off her shoulder. Determined, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and jerked the IV line out of her arm. “Don’t any of you look at me like that. I don’t need your pity, I can handle this.” She scooted off the side of the bed, her feet landing firmly on the floor. Spotting her shoes in the corner, she grabbed them up and flopped into a chair.
“Where do you think you’re going?” her father asked as she slipped on the second shoe. The three men appeared shocked at her sudden recovery. Honestly, she was kind of surprised at how good she felt, too. But was this K’s feelings or hers? No matter, she wasn’t going to stay here and continue to be gawked at. There was only one person who truly understood what all this meant and she needed to find her.
“I’m going to find K,” she snapped.
“No you’re not!” Mikel knelt down on the ground in front of her and grabbed both of her arms. “I understand you feel you need to talk to her about this, but you are in no shape to go traipsing through the woods alone. What you need to do now is eat and rest.”
“Your father’s right,” Jaron joined in. “It’s pointless to go wandering through the woods. Besides, there is nowhere you can go look that me and Tyran haven’t already gone. When she is ready, K will reveal herself, not before. Trust me on this.”
Sighing, Citera slumped in her chair. She understood what they were saying but she needed to see K. After all, she was the only one who really knew why these things were happening to her. But unfortunately, Citera also knew Jaron was right. K was the type of person who did what she wanted, only when she wanted to. And if K didn’t want to be found, then there was no way she was going to find her.
“Come and eat, rest today, and we will work together to figure this out,” Mikel coaxed, offering her his hand. She accepted it, allowing him to pull her to her feet, and lead her to the table where the plate sat waiting. Sitting down she studied the plate. Her stomach pleaded with her to eat, sending wave after wave of cramps through her abdomen, but something in her mind kept holding her back. Feeling defeated she glanced up at her father, who was leaning against the chair behind her, watching her with a worried expression. “I don’t think I can. I don’t feel like eating.”
“You have to ignore it, Citera,” Jaron instructed, taking a seat in one of the chairs beside her. “Your decreased appetite is a result of K’s depression. And while K can go long stretches without feeding, you can’t. If you don’t push it back and control it, you will waste away.”
Citera sighed, returning her attention to the plate. Steam rose from the dish, filling her nose with the aromas of freshly cooked vegetables and spices, causing her stomach to pang intensely with hunger. Picking up her fork, she stabbed a piece of bright yellow squash and lifted it to her mouth. However, when she opened her mouth to take a bite, she was instantly overcome by a wave of nausea. Cringing, Citera dropped her fork and covered her mouth, trying to coax the bile in her throat back down into her stomach.
“I can’t. I just can’t.”
“Let me try something. Give me your hand.” Jaron held his out, palm up. She placed her hand in his and he topped it with his other. “Now close your eyes and relax.”
Citera did as she was told. But when a warm sensation flared in her palm and began traveling up her arm, she squealed and tried to pull away. “Keep your eyes closed and trust me,” Jaron’s voice soothed.
“Trust … you?” Mikel snapped from behind her. Placing his hands on the back of her chair, Mikel leaned forward, his body rigid with anger. “Why should she, or any of us, trust you? You and K brought us here promising a better life. Now, after all this time, you finally decide to tell us about this ‘Link’? Oh, and let’s not leave out the part where the woman my daughter is linked to, the very same woman we were told was going to help lead our people to freedom, is actually a half insane immortal who isn’t even trusted by her own peers due to her tendency to go on killing rampages.” Mikel dropped his hands, but remained standing, continuing to glare daggers at Jaron. “Nothing you have told us since we met you has been the truth, yet you still sit there and have the nerve to ask us to trust you?”
Citera had managed to keep her eyes locked on Jaron during her father’s entire rant, watching nervously as his eyes rimmed red. He locked his gaze with Mikel’s and an uncomfortable silence engulfed the tent as the two of them stared each other down. But Jaron stayed true to his even tempered reputation and breathed through his discontent. Only once he had regained complete control and the red had faded from his eyes, did he relax his posture and address Mikel.
“Mikel, I know you are angry, and I don’t blame you. But we never lied. We may have kept some things from you intentionally but it was for your own protection. I … we would never do anything to purposefully hurt any of you. Like I said before, this is out of our hands. All I am trying to do right now is help ease your daughter’s discomfort.”
“Dad, please, I need to try something. I am starving, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t eat anything.” Citera coaxed, hoping to ease some of the tension between the two of them. Returning her attention back to Jaron, she then added, “Let’s try it again. I promise I’ll be still this time.”
Mikel begrudgingly relented and took a seat at the table next to her. Jaron watched
him closely, still obviously upset by what he had said, but thankfully choosing to drop the subject for the moment. Instead, he closed his eyes, while motioning for Citera to do the same. Taking a deep breath to relax her nerves, Citera obeyed. The moment she did, the warm feeling returned and began to flicker between their pressed palms, slowly increasing in intensity, before once again traveling up her arm until it reached her shoulder. There the warmth divided into two parts, with one half snaking its way to her head, while the other crept slowly down into her abdomen.
Once the two waves reached their final destinations, the heat inside her intensified to an alarming level and enveloped her insides in a swirling sensation. The feeling of it moving inside her was unnerving and caused Citera to shift anxiously in her chair.
“Just a few more moments, hang in there,” Jaron’s melodic tone comforted. Citera settled down, forcing herself to relax as the waves continued to swirl inside her until they had completely encompassed her head and stomach.
“Open your eyes,” Jaron said calmly, releasing her hand.
She blinked, the light in the room suddenly bright compared to the darkness of her eyelids. Across the table from her sat her father and Dirik staring at her anxiously. “What did you do?” Mikel asked Jaron, his attention still focused on his daughter.
“I gave her a block.” He pushed away from the table. “It should provide relief from the nightmares and make it easier for her to eat, but the effects are temporary. By tomorrow this time the block will wear off.” Jaron walked toward the tent exit. “In the meantime I’m going to find Tyran and resume the search for K. Once she is here, and back to normal, she can teach Citera what she needs to know to help minimize the link’s effects next time.”
“How are you going to find her?” Citera asked, as the aromas from the plate recaptured her attention. Suddenly overwhelmed with hunger, she picked up the fork, and ferociously shoveled the contents of the plate into her mouth.
Dirik watched, amused by her lack of table manners. “I guess that worked.”
Linked (The Shadow Chronicles Book 2) Page 20
