“What do you mean they’re different than humans?” Aiden asked, blowing air into his stiff hands. The Capital definitely wasn’t as warm as the south had been.
“Well from what I heard, they are stronger than us. Their hearing and sight is better, as are all their senses. They could blend in with humans if it weren’t for their eyes.”
“Why? What’s wrong with their eyes?”
“They are pure white. I’ve been told it is quite unnerving to speak with one. Personally I’ve only seen paintings of them, and question the validity. But those who have met an Elite swear by it.”
Aiden thought of the man with wings. He opened his mouth to ask, but Stefan was already shaking his head. “They look like us in all ways except the eyes. I’ve never heard of any of them having wings.”
“How did you know I was going to ask that?”
The northerner looked at him with a small smile. “Your thoughts are easily read on your face. Your eyes darken when you are thinking of her.” Aiden didn’t know what to say to that. They continued in a heavy silence. “They also move differently than us,” Stefan added, just as the Sanctuary came into view. “I’ve heard they can slow time down so that they can move from one spot to another quicker. To us it would just look as though they flashed from one place to another, but for them everything slowed down. Can you imagine?” The other boy laughed. “Some of these stories must be wrong, for I cannot believe any being would have this ability.”
Breathing had suddenly become difficult for Aiden. His mouth was dry, and his pulse drummed in his ears. His thoughts flew back to the last battle, the way he had found himself in another spot before the thought had even finished crossing his mind. The way it sometimes felt like everything around him had slowed down. The smells would become more vibrant, the air like a living thing against his skin. He swallowed past the lump in his throat. It must be a coincidence, he thought. He managed to smile, although it felt strained against his face. “Pretty crazy,” he agreed as they approached the Sanctuary door.
CHAPTER TEN
“Well that couldn’t have gone any worse.”
Jameson turned to see Turk standing in the doorway to his chambers. His voice had brought Jameson out of the stupor he’d been in. Standing up, he moved over to pour himself a glass of spiced wine. “Do you want one?” he asked, holding out an empty cup.
“Why not?” his Captain said, stepping into the room and moving to take a seat by the fire. “It is late, and I am officially off duty.”
“Friend, you are never off duty,” he pointed out.
“I know. I think I need a new job. This one is too demanding.”
Jameson snorted, carrying the two drinks over to the chair he had just vacated.
“So?”
“So?” Jameson repeated, looking deep into the fire. “So you’re right. There is no way that could have gone any worse. To be honest, it didn’t go at all how I imagined.”
Turk chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Forgive me for saying so, but you did just break the girl’s heart. I can’t blame Melaine for handling it the way she did.”
Jameson let out a deep sigh. “I know. I feel awful.”
“Don’t. She always knew there was a part of you that you kept from her. I’m sure it didn’t come as much of a surprise, despite her actions tonight.” They both turned to look at the broken glass shattered across the woven rugs on the floor. “She really did make quite a mess, didn’t she?”
“I’m just happy nothing actually hit me in the head,” he murmured.
“What hit you in the head?” Jameson turned at Diana’s voice. “Goddess! What happened in here?” A heavy weight in his chest lifted when he noticed the bags at her feet. Even after all that had happened between them, a part of him had still been worried she wouldn’t really move into the Palace with him. He was afraid she would come back and change her mind, picking her duties over him. The sight before him now made the whole debacle with Melaine fade into memory.
Moving quickly, he placed his wine down and took long strides over to where she stood, gathering her into his arms before she could doing anything but let out a squeak. Then his mouth was on hers, and he let the smell and taste of her surround him, drowning his senses. She was everything to him. When he pulled back he smiled triumphantly at her swollen lips and cloudy eyes. Her cheeks flushed with desire.
“What was that for?” she asked, clearing the hoarseness from her voice.
“I’m just happy to see you,” he replied with a smile.
She gave him a speculative look. “Are you going to react like this every time I’m out of your sight?”
“Probably,” Turk said.
Diana placed her hand on his cheek. He leaned into her touch, kissing the sensitive skin at her wrist. “I told you I’d be back,” she reminded him.
“I know.”
“But you were still worried?” It was a question, but she said it more as a statement.
“Maybe.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “Men,” she said. “Are you going to tell me what happened in here?”
“I think not telling you would be wiser,” he replied, walking to where he had left the wine. “Would you like a glass?”
“Please,” she said with a nod, moving to the empty seat by the fire. “Turk? Are you going to tell me why there is broken glass everywhere?”
He smiled at her, lifting his feet to rest on the small table in front of him. “Let’s just say, things didn’t go as well as our King had hoped it would tonight.” He gave her a knowing look.
“That’s my chair,” Jameson pointed out when he walked up to them. Diana took her wine as she stood. As soon as Jameson sat down he pulled her with him so she sat comfortably on his lap.
“You almost made me spill!” He smiled, giving her waist a firm squeeze that caused her to jump with a squeal.
He gave her an impish grin as he watched her fight to keep one from her face. Finally she lost the struggle and smiled begrudgingly.
“I love you,” he said.
She rolled her eyes, smile widening. “I know.” She sighed playfully. “So is this mess from Melaine?” she asked, growing serious.
He nodded slowly. “She didn’t take it well.”
Diana looked around. “I can see that.”
“Don’t let it bother you,” he said, already aware of how her mind would be working. Diana was a compassionate person by nature. Knowing Melaine was upset by their relationship would upset her. He didn’t want that. He didn’t want anyone or anything causing Diana to feel guilty over their love for each other. “She’ll get over it,” he assured her.
Someone knocked loudly on his chamber door. Diana jumped slightly in his lap, her wide eyes looking over his shoulder at the source. Jameson turned to see a confused Turk. “Go and see who it is,” he ordered.
A young soldier stood outside, visibly nervous as his eyes flickered between Turk and himself. “My Lord,” he greeted, bowing his head. “The High Priest has requested an audience with you. He says it is of great importance, and cannot wait till morning.”
Jameson let out a tired sigh. No matter what he wanted, which was to spend a quiet night with Diana, specifically in his bed, he should have known it would never happen. Life just did not stop for a King. Would there ever be a time when they could enjoy each other’s company without someone interrupting? He looked up at Diana, her forehead lined with worry. He could sense her desire to get off his lap. Alistair wasn’t one to send for him in this manner, so it must be important. Perhaps they wouldn’t have very many stolen moments, but at least he knew she would be by his side now while he dealt with the kingdom’s matters.
“Tell him we will be there shortly. Is he at the Sanctuary?” Jameson replied.
“Yes my King,” the young man answered. “The Warrior is with him also.”
He felt Diana tense. If this had to do with Aiden then it was even more important than Jameson had initially thought. He and Turk suspect
ed the High Priest knew more about the boy from the other world than he was letting on. Perhaps tonight was the night he would shed some light on the mystery of how exactly a boy from another realm became destined to save them all.
Aiden watched as the small priest took the blood offering required to enter the Sanctuary. He thought back to the first time Elisa had brought him here. He smiled at the memory of how sick he had felt that day. Blood had never been his thing. Now it didn’t faze him at all.
Stefan had already left to go back to the dorm. Aiden went inside and followed the priest to the chapel where Alistair was reading the closing rites. Most of the pews were filled with worshipers so Aiden took a seat way in the back. When he looked up he caught Alistair’s eye instantly. His entrance had not gone unnoticed by the High Priest, not that he had expected it to. Aiden doubted there was much that got past the old man. He sat in silence as Alistair continued his sermon. When he was done, the bells rang out again and people began to leave in large groups. Aiden stayed seated while Alistair spoke to a couple of people as the room emptied.
“To what do I owe this honour?” Alistair asked when he finally approached him. Aiden smiled. If he was being honest with himself, he had to admit that he was happy to see the High Priest. There was something about Alistair that seemed to instantly put him at ease.
“I wanted to talk to you, if you’re free,” Aiden replied. “About the prophecy, to be exact,” he added.
Alistair nodded his head as if he had expected him to say that. Nothing ever seemed to surprise him. “I wondered when you’d start asking the right questions,” he said before growing quiet and thoughtful. “There are things you must know and understand before you face Aziz. I can’t promise you they will be easy to hear, but it is necessary.”
“About the prophecy? About me?”
He nodded. “About all of it,” he confirmed. “However, I think we should wait and have the King join us before I begin my tale. He does not know what I do, and the time has come that he should. You all must know what you face when you meet Aziz in battle. You must understand how it all began.”
Aiden sat in the High Priest’s chamber. While they waited for the others, Alistair went in search of the prophecy, handing it over to Aiden for him to read as they sat by the fire. Aiden had read the damn thing ten times already, and still it made no sense.
“And there will come to be, two souls made from one. Dark as night and light as day. Without one there can be no other. Both made from the darkest of hearts, one will rise up to defend the weak, and return peace to the lands. Made from the God’s children, swift on foot and sure in mind. On land he will rise, while the dark takes to the sky. The Warrior must be raised as such, away from poisoned minds. He will be our saviour.” Aiden sat back. “I don’t understand it.”
He looked over at Alistair. “How is it that I was chosen from this? Where does it say ‘go find Aiden Carter, resident of Glenn Williams, Ontario’? You could have picked anyone according to this nonsense. I feel like my name was pulled out of hat and it was just decided I’d be this warrior.” He huffed in anger.
A soft chuckle escaped Alistair. “So many questions,” he said. “If you try to find some patience, all of these questions will be answered. I know you must have wondered time and time again why you were chosen, and I will tell you why. I will also explain the prophecy itself, but only when Jameson is here. Your grumbling over it won’t help you solve the puzzle any quicker.”
Aiden put the piece of parchment down on a small table by the fire and sat back, annoyed. Fine, he’d wait, but now that he actually read this prophecy everyone had been talking about since he first arrived, he was starting to seriously doubt they picked the right guy for the job. It just didn’t make any sense, and nothing in the prophecy pointed to him as the warrior they foretold.
Finally the King arrived, along with the Captain and Diana, just when Aiden thought he was about to go insane. Everyone greeted each other briefly before Jameson turned to face Alistair.
“So? What’s so important that you’ve called this urgent meeting?” he asked, walking over to stand beside the Priest. They stood at the open window, looking out over the Sanctuary gardens. From where he sat, Aiden could see the weariness in the Priest’s shoulders. He looked older all of a sudden, like the weight of whatever he was about to tell them was finally taking its toll.
“Aiden came to me tonight, with questions about the prophecy,” he began, turning to face the King. “I knew it was time that I shared all I know. The prophecy was given to me, not in a dream, but on a night very much like any other, by the one person I’ve sworn secrecy to all this time.” The room became unnaturally quiet the moment he started speaking. Aiden sat forward on his chair a bit more so he could hear everything that came out of Alistair’s mouth. He could sense the tension in the others around him. “She always said I would know when the right time came to reveal what happened all those years ago. I wondered how I’d know, but now that the time has come, it makes sense.”
“I’m pleased that you have decided to share what you kno –” the King’s words cut off abruptly as Alistair’s body crashed into his. Aiden watched as the King tumbled to the ground with a loud humph. Alistair’s body twisted in the air, landing only a short distance away from the King. It took Aiden a moment to realize what he was looking at as he stared at the feathered end of the arrow sticking out of the High Priest’s back. Small wheezes were coming from his mouth as he struggled to breathe. Everyone and everything in the room froze for those two seconds after Alistair’s initial fall. Then all hell broke loose.
Aiden sprang out of his chair, rushing to where the High Priest lay. The King was yelling out orders to Turk and the other Priests that were running in after hearing the commotion. Someone was wailing, but Aiden didn’t have time to look around and see who it was. Diana kneeled on the other side of him, her face stricken with horror.
“We cannot move him,” she said quickly. “I need the arrow removed so we can see if there is any poison on the end, but from the position of it, I fear it has pierced his heart. If I push it all the way through there will be no saving him.”
“Can we pull it back out through his back?” Aiden asked, his hands shaking as he reached for the arrow.
Diana placed her hand on his, stopping him. “No, we’ll rip too much flesh that way. If there is poison, we’ll only make it spread quicker.”
A gargling noise was coming from Alistair. Aiden looked down at his ashen face, and realized that he was trying to speak. Bending over him, he placed his ear right beside Alistair’s mouth so he could hear him better.
“What’s he saying?” Diana whispered. There was so much going on around the room, but it felt like the three of them were in their own bubble. A fragile one that Aiden could sense was about to burst.
“I think he’s saying poison,” Aiden answered. It was hard to tell, but he was pretty certain that Alistair was repeating the word. “He must be telling us that there is some on the tip.” He looked up at Diana and saw unshed tears fill her eyes.
“I…I don’t know what to do for him,” she said. “I can already tell by his colouring that it’s moved too fast.”
“No!” Aiden argued. “There has to be something. You saved me when I was poisoned, there must be a way to save him.” She was shaking her head the entire time he was speaking.
“You’re different Aiden,” she replied. “This, this is different. There is nothing I can do.”
“I’m not different!” he yelled. “I’m just like everybody else! You have to save him.” It felt like his head was about to explode from the pressure inside it. A hand gripped his. He was about to shove it off when he realized it was Alistair’s. Aiden bent down again so he could hear him.
“T…t…he p…p…ai…n..t..ing…” Blood spilled from his mouth as he tried to speak. Aiden could see foam at the corners, his lips now a deep blue.
“The painting?” he whispered. Alistair closed his eyes and open
ed them again. Was that a yes? “What painting?” he urged. “What about it?” Alistair’s lips were moving again, but no sound came from them. Try as he might, Aiden couldn’t understand what the man was struggling to tell him. Frustration and a feeling of helplessness rose within him. He didn’t know if he wanted to shout, cry, or punch something. The blood in his veins thrummed with energy. The hairs on his arms stood up like static electricity. There was such a deep seeded anger in him that Aiden didn’t know what to do with himself. How many people would he see die before all of this ended?
The pressure on his hand suddenly eased. Aiden looked down at Alistair’s motionless body. His mouth hung open from his last breath, his eyes unseeing even while open. A chill ran up Aiden’s spine. He looked up at the now silent room. Every set of eyes there was trained on them.
“He’s gone,” he said. A deep voice cursed. Aiden turned to see that at some point Callum had joined them. His hair hung about his shoulders in wild disarray. He looked like he had rolled out of bed and rushed here.
A strangled cry came from the open doorway, catching their attention. Elisa and Wolf stood there. Wolf’s face set in a mask of outrage, while Elisa openly cried. She ran to where Aiden knelt, her hands immediately reaching for the High Priest. Aiden moved out of the way allowing space for her to grieve.
The King ordered everyone to the throne room until they caught whoever had shot the arrow. Aiden stayed behind as the others filed out. Jameson stood by himself, looking down at the elegant chess board set up near the windows, now shut against any further attacks. Aiden moved to stand beside him. “Do you think it was meant for you?” he said, his eyes moving to the lifeless form.
“I don’t know,” Jameson answered, his voice deep with anger.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The Eden Series: The Complete Collection Page 88
