by Casey Odell
“Look.” He gestured forward with his head.
She had to turn slightly, adjusting her fierce hold on him to do so. A tall mountain range stood far in the distance, past fields of green and rolling hills, their imposing stature a little foreboding.
“Beyond there is Zaqar. I will be going there first before I go north to Rhutham in Belquiel.” He circled to follow the direction. “If you need me, I will be there. Focus your power in that direction. Lianna will show you how.”
It took her a few moments to figure out just why she would need him, but then it dawned on her. The mark. He had been able to calm it down when it went berserk the other day. Perhaps he was worried that it would do that again. She’d be lying if she said it hadn’t been a concern of hers as well.
“Alright,” was all she could think to say. If it did happen once more, she doubted he would be able to make it back in time before… before what, she didn’t know.
He leaped up into the air, garnering a sharp shriek from her. She clung to him even tighter, her eyes clamped shut. She could feel that they had started to descend. Soon, she’d be back on solid ground, safe and—
Before she could complete that thought, Razi let her go, the solidity of his body suddenly gone, and she was free falling, her back plummeting to the ground. A blood-curdling scream ripped up her throat. Her eyes snapped open as her arms and legs flailed through the air, searching in vain for something, anything to grab ahold of. Her stomach seemed to float up, out of her body. The walls of the surrounding courtyard sprung up around her, growing at a startling pace. She started to count down her last moments as a complete human being as she anticipated the second she’d hit the very ground she wished so desperately for.
Razi caught her just before she would have splattered into a pile of mush. His laughter filled the small space, echoing off the stone walls. Her body rigid, she remained motionless in his arms, waiting for her heart to start beating again. She stared straight ahead, in shock, waiting for the anger to set in, waiting to feel something, but all that came was a fine tremble.
“I can teach you that trick someday if you would like.” Amusement still laced his voice.
“I hate you,” she muttered. That was one trick she could do without.
He only laughed before setting her down carefully.
Her legs still gelatinous, she collapsed straight to the ground on her hands and knees. “I think I’ll pass on that ability.” She took deep breaths to help calm her nerves.
“But it is very handy, me chaqana.”
“Even if it is, I’m afraid it would just collect dust.”
“We shall see.” He knelt in front of her. “Fear may make it easier to find your power. Would you like to try?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Was that why you did that?”
He grinned and she already knew the answer. “Not exactly. But why let it go to waste?”
“Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. The men in this palace desperately needed a lesson in manners. “But if you teach me something, make it something I can beat you with.”
He offered her a hand and pulled her to her feet. He gripped her shoulders to keep her from swaying.
“Good. Now close your eyes.”
She did, taking a deep breath. She felt the bare tips of his fingers touch the side of her neck, then the familiar sharp pain in her head when he entered her mind. “Stay out of there,” she whispered almost dreamily. She wanted to pull back right then, but she couldn’t. The uneasiness and ache that had plagued her for the past couple weeks dissipated the moment he touched her. Waves of calm and warmth swept through her. It was so… relaxing.
Images of the General flashed in her head suddenly, the memories crashing down on her, ruining her quiet reverie.
“I can kill him,” Razi whispered.
She grabbed his wrist. “Razi, please,” she breathed as she pried his hand away from her neck.
He looked down at her with a slight look of surprise. “I am sorry, I did not mean to.”
“Yes, you did.” She was starting to get the feeling he liked to rummage around in there. She held her right arm up and he took her wrist in his hand, fingers brushing along the scar.
“I will try not to pry again.”
“Good” she snapped as she closed her eyes once again. Her arm tingled with energy, so that was where she focused her thoughts.
“Your power, I can feel it already. Can you?” Razi asked softly.
Concentrating, she muttered, “Yes,” rather absently.
He lifted her hand and turned it palm up, his own still clamped tightly around her wrist. “Good. Now picture that power, try to focus it into your palm. Visualize it, feel it, try to form it into a sphere.”
After a few moments of trying with no results, she said, “It’s hard.”
“It gets easier the more you do it, almost second nature.” His voice was soothing, an almost hypnotic quality to it. “Picture the energy flowing to your hand, the ball forming.”
She did just that, concentrating with all her might, finally finding a strand of power— like a string, thin and brittle, but it was there. Heat spread across her hand as she tugged on the imaginary thread.
“That is good,” he said, “just a little bit more.”
A slight sting started along her scar, but she pushed past it, trying her best to ignore it. She could feel the magic start to flow through her, just a pale shadow compared to that night in the cave, but it was there— powerful, mystical, and just a tad bit frightening. If she could learn to harness it, then who knew what she’d be capable of. If she could control it, then maybe her fears really would fade.
“Open your eyes, Claire.”
She did. A little blue ball hovered above her hand, pulsing with the same glow that edged along the lines of her mark. The dark lines moved languidly across her skin. The pain grew steadily, but she let the awe overshadow it.
“You did it,” Razi said.
Claire narrowed her eyes at him. “You’d better start running.”
He held his hands up in front of him. “Now, now,” he said. “I was just fooling around earlier. I would not have let you get hurt, me chaqana.” He took a couple steps back, a nervous smile playing on his face.
She hurled the ball at him, but he ducked at the last moment, barely avoiding it. Crackling sounded from behind him as a flowered plant caught fire, the flames a vibrant blue, but then it was out as quickly as it had started, leaving the green leaves singed and brown. Quickly, she concentrated again. This time the ball formed much easier and faster, although slightly smaller.
Razi’s amusement grew as he took a defensive stance, knees bent, hands up in front of him. A red glow peeked around the leather glove on his right arm.
“It wasn’t fun or funny,” she growled, taking a step towards Razi. “My heart nearly gave out!” She threw the ball at him, but he countered with one of his own, sending hers flying high into the sky. A piercing crack resonated off the walls.
Fire spread throughout her body in a sudden rush and Claire doubled over, gasping for breath. Her right arm throbbed, the pain becoming unbearable. Before she could cry out, Razi’s hands were on her wrist and a calming wave washed away the pain. She straightened up and leaned against him. Her body felt sapped of all its strength already. Although glad she was finally able to use her powers, she wondered if this would happen every time she did.
Filled with relief, she leaned her forehead against his shoulder. His hand found the nape of her neck and squeezed it lightly.
“Or maybe it would be best if you did not learn how to use your powers, me chaqana,” he said. “Lianna’s power… it is calming, and at times frightening, but she keeps a tight control over them. Yours, though, there is something unsettling about it, like a thunderstorm brewing. Whenever I am around you, my skin starts to prickle. I feel… uneasy.” His other hand gripped her shoulder, keeping her steady against him. “But when I touch you, it is like the clouds dissipate.
”
Claire closed her eyes and let her breath out in a long sigh. It was like the anxiety just seeped from her body, and all she wanted to do was melt to the ground, catch up on all the sleep she’d been missing— mostly due to the nightmares— and maybe due to some silver-haired elf.
She could feel the heat of his body edge closer to her. He was close, so close. It must have looked suspicious to others. She wanted to pull away, but she couldn’t, not yet. Just a little bit longer. The mark had been getting worse lately, the terrifying dreams more regular, the ache in her arm more frequent, the uneasiness inside of her… and all of it was gone the second he touched her.
She hated to admit it, but maybe she really would have to learn how to contact him when he left. Either that or put her training on hold until he returned. But who knew when that’d be? Especially if he was to fight a giant beast, then the question would be if he returned…
Robe in hand, Claire made her way through the halls to the magnificent baths and their warm soothing waters and fragrant oils, exhausted from her and Razi’s latest training session. Her skin still tingled along the scar on her right arm. And although the glow had subsided, the lines still extended to just below her elbow in a wild, almost unrestrained way. Strange, since by now they should have reverted to their usual state.
After bidding Razi farewell, she had promptly returned to her room, only stopping to collect her robe. She looked forward to lounging in the steam and incense-filled air for the rest of the night.
Even though she had finally managed to use her powers, she wasn’t sure she liked the consequences. Was that going to happen every time? And why was it that Razi was able to calm it? Would Lianna be able to do the same thing? Ever since Farron had come back to the palace, she’d hardly seen Lianna. It almost seemed as if she were avoiding her, though she could say the same for herself. She felt awkward, given both their relationships, past and present, with Farron. But it looked like she would just have to suck it up and pay a visit to her. She needed answers, and now Lianna would be the only one in the palace that could give them to her.
Just around the corner to the baths, she caught a curious sight and stopped. Far down the hall, Farron crossed an adjoining corridor, daggers strapped to his back. Claire squinted, eyebrows scrunching together as she tried to get a good look, but then he was gone.
That was odd. She stood for a moment before her feet lurched forward, away from the baths to follow after him. She reached the hallway he’d disappeared down, dark and barren and lined with doors on each side, most closed. The robe fell from her hands onto the floor and Claire took off at a slight jog down the hall. He had to be somewhere.
Worry hit her all at once. Why was he armed? Was he going somewhere?
Claire ignored the doors to her sides, her feet propelling her forward at a frantic pace. A foreboding feeling punched her in the gut. He wasn’t planning on leaving, was he? Without even telling her? Perhaps the palace had gotten to him again. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d just left, after all.
She came to another intersection and peered around the corner, down the left hallway. Two female maids walked together, folded linens stacked in their arms, talking in hushed voices. Quickly, she glanced down the other halls, but still found no sign of him.
Claire leaned a shoulder on the wall and crossed her arms. Where in the world—
“I had a feeling I was being followed,” Farron’s voice came from close behind her.
Claire jumped. A yelp escaped her throat and echoed down the halls. She spun to face him.
He leaned casually against the wall, mimicking her earlier posture. A grin was plastered on his face, but it lacked his usual cockiness. Black made up his somber outfit, a nostalgic sight, except for the addition of dark leather armor that covered his arms and shoulders. The hilts of his two daggers stuck up over each shoulder, the silver pommels clean and polished.
“Are you going somewhere?” she asked as she took in his appearance.
He opened his mouth, but he seemed hesitant to answer.
The voices of the two servants drew closer.
Not wanting to be interrupted, Claire grabbed Farron’s arm and dragged him to the nearest door. She pushed it open, pulling him in after her into the dim room. Furniture and trunks were stacked up high in the small area. A storage room by the looks of it. A small window high up on the wall let in the waning light of the day, dust swirling thick in the air.
“Are you leaving?” Claire asked again, spinning towards him.
Farron closed the door quietly behind him. “The Council… it seems that I’m not able to escape their clutches after all.” He stepped towards her, face serious. “They’re sending me on a mission. I received the order this morning.”
She stood silent for a few moments, letting his words sink in. “What? Where?”
“I cannot say.”
“Why not?” she asked as the first stirrings of anger arose. She stepped onto a trunk next to her, bringing her just above eye level with the tall elf.
He was quiet as he looked down at the floor.
“What are they having you do?” The fear of him coming face to face with one of the Beasts of Old struck her suddenly. He was strong, but she doubted he would walk away from a fight with them unscathed. Or at all.
“I can’t—”
“When exactly were you going to tell me this?” Her throat grew tight.
He took a step towards her and opened his mouth to say something, but he didn’t. He didn’t need to. The look on his face was answer enough, one of guilt and sadness.
“You weren’t going to tell me, were you? You were just going to leave…” Her stomach sunk down to the floor.
“Claire, I…” He raised a hand as if to touch her, but he let it fall back to his side.
Tears already brimming, she asked, “Are you even coming back?” Her voice trembled. She wanted to scream, lash out at him. Even though she had told him to leave once before, she’d never thought he’d just go, without even saying goodbye.
“Do you want me to?” His voice was quiet. “Lately it seems like you wouldn’t have even noticed if I were gone.”
Before she could stop herself, she raised her right hand and slapped him hard across the cheek. “Don’t! Don’t you even!”
He stood silent, head to the side, eyes avoiding her.
“Don’t turn this on me and your jealousies. This is you, your decision, your secret. I thought we’d gotten past this, all the hiding.”
“I’m sorry,” he said finally.
Claire took his face in her hands and turned it back to her. “Why can’t you tell me, of all people?”
“Because I wish not to.” His hands found her wrists, lingering, making no effort to remove her hold on him.
She was quiet for a moment. “Why are you doing this? Weren’t you the one that warned me against the Council? Weren’t they the reason you left in the first place?”
“They came to me with an offer I couldn’t bring myself to refuse.”
Lord Hyndor, it had to be. He had refused to tell her in the library. Perhaps this was what it was. “What was it? Money? Power?” She lowered her hands to his shoulders. “Your old position back?”
“No,” he said simply, running his bare fingers up her arms. “Something much more valuable than that.”
She sighed, getting frustrated with his answers, filled so little with the information she sought.
“How long?” she asked.
“I don’t know.”
Her insides wrenched as she realized this could be the last time she saw him. Who knew what the Council was sending him to do?
“Please don’t leave me… not here.” She would be alone in the palace. The thought frightened her. She’d just gotten used to his company, close and warm in the evenings, lying next to her while she slept. A friend and ally both. And what of the nightmares? With him gone, surely they would return in full force.
“Claire…”
“Take it.”
“Claire, I can’t.” He tried to push the bracelet back, but she stopped him, putting her other hand on top of his.
“That way you’ll have to come back, to return it to me.”
His expression softened and he looked down at his hand. “Claire, I think as long as you are here, I’ll keep coming back.” He clasped the bracelet around one of the straps crisscrossing his chest. Then he slipped his hands around her waist and pulled her close, his mouth finding hers.
Long and deep, the kiss held a hint of sadness. A farewell kiss if she’d ever had one.
He pulled back after a while and said, “I wouldn’t leave you here if I didn’t think you were safe. The Council will not touch you, I have made sure of that.”
“What do you mean? What have you done?”
“My lady, you don’t need to worry about the details. Just wait and miss me. And stay out of trouble. I know how prone you are to it.”
“Who said I would miss you?” She raised a defiant eyebrow, a little offended at his last statement.
“You’re a terrible liar, Claire.” He pulled her in again for another kiss.
Claire quickly gave in, throwing her arms around his neck. When exactly had she started to feel like this? When had she grown so fond and attached to him? Her old self would have just sent him on his way with a pat on the back and a simple farewell.
“Wait for me, Claire,” he whispered.
“What if I’m not here by the time you return?” Who knew what would happen to her? The king or the Council could send her away at a moment’s notice, and she’d be powerless to stop it.
“Then I will find you.”
He leaned his forehead against hers with his eyes closed, and they simply stayed like that for a while, neither of them saying a word, their arms still locked around each other. She breathed in his scent, felt his warmth, filling her senses with him, trying her best to memorize each one, in case… well, she’d rather not think about that at the moment.
“I have to go,” he said quietly.
