Aliah stood there with his hands behind his back, watching the Kentites rush around. He breathed in the yeasty scent of bread from the old bakery, mixed with the smells of beer and wine from the Bar next to it. He inhaled the sharp scent of rich loam from the vegetable stand to his left, and let his eyes wander over the bright colors and various textures of the textiles store and the machine shop. The food store, where Cookie worked, was to his right. A rushing, roaring sound filled the place. The sounds of people trading their services for wares, non-stop chatter, and the laughter of children playing rang in his ears like a familiar lullaby. Pleasure rushed through him and made his eyes moist.
He watched the steady stream of people overhead as they pushed carts of metal, gears, and levers across a narrow bridge. Pedestrians crossed over a wider bridge underneath. And in the center of it all, beneath the two bridges was the reason he found himself standing here. The Core's Lake. A vast underground body of water with a massive, metal wheel in the middle of it.
Adena had built the waterwheel as a means for Kent to supply their own power. Aliah had always found the turning of the wheel fascinating as it picked up water in its huge metal buckets. At the top of the wheel the water poured out of the buckets, the force of the flow caused the wheel to turn.
Two channels carried water, away from and to, the wheel. The channels flowed around the perimeter of the Core in a giant circle with the two bridges arching across the lake. A metal guardrail around the lake protected people from falling in but, the channels had no railing.
Kentites were fond of swimming in the channels and often floated around the ring, scrambling to the dirt embankment just before the water flowed back into the lake.
Aliah walked to the guardrail and leaned against it to look into the water below. A part of him hoped the water would be calm long enough for him to catch a glimpse of his reflection. He thought if he could see his face, just for a moment, he might see who he really was. Not Aliah of Lael. Not Ace, Watcher of Lael. But somebody who mattered. He began to long for the person the Book identified him as. The identity he was created to have. Aliah Elyon, warrior, rebel of the Division... one who'd be remembered for revolutionizing the Sectors. For overthrowing the dividing line that separated the original Edan. For restoring truth and standing up for the original Law that Remiel had talked about: the Law of Love.
Yes, he even wanted to know love again.
He leaned closer and the cool metal railing chilled his chest through his sweater.
The rapid current around the waterwheel reminded him of Lael's swollen river and fast undertow the night he smashed Remiel's jaw, and knocked him into the river. He rubbed his face, as though he could wipe away the memories of Remiel's lifeless body floating downstream. He had searched for three days for Remiel before he'd finally gone to Samael with his guilty conscience.
Samael. It had been years since he'd seen his father face-to-face. But his voice, he'd never forget even though he wanted to.
He stared into the water. Do I look like my father?
Tension made his neck and back ache. He squeezed the guardrail until his knuckles turned white. He closed his eyes. He didn't want to see his reflection anymore. When he opened his eyes the atmosphere in the Core had shifted. A hush descended and the only sounds were of the water crashing over the waterwheel.
Aliah turned around.
People had stopped walking and just stood staring at something in the middle of the street. Traffic paused on both bridges. Aliah pushed through the crowd to see the distraction.
The slender shape of a young girl in dirty trousers, bare feet, and a ripped, yellow shirt stood in the middle of the crowd. Matted hair that would've been blonde if it were washed, stuck in clumps around her head. She held both arms outstretched, her left hand held palm out in an effort to keep everyone away. Her right hand gripped a long knife. The curved blade glistened shiny-wet with a dark, crimson liquid that dripped down the blade and onto the hilt. The hand that held the knife couldn't be seen for the blood.
When the girl turned, Aliah saw the stain that spread down the front of her tunic. Dark red. Her wild eyes caught his and she ran towards him with the knife held high in the air, above her head.
CHAPTER 60
Shai
The darkness startled her with its suffocating strength. It pressed on her chest, her stomach, her face with the weight of a lead blanket. She pushed at it with her hands, clawed the air in front of her, but found nothing. She turned her head left and right to try and find a pocket of air. She gasped and gulped, choking, as icy water filled her mouth.
A pinprick of light appeared before her and she followed it, lifting her face higher and twisting her head to keep her eyes on it. When at last the prick of light flooded her eyes, she found she could suck in a gasping, wheezing breath.
Her hair, face, and upper torso were soaking wet. She was bent over at the waist looking at her own face reflected in the rippling water of a large bucket. Large blue eyes blinked back at her. She shivered and felt herself being pulled up to stand straight, then being turned around.
A hazy face appeared in front of her, and in a few seconds she made out a thin straight nose, flashing dark green eyes rimmed in long dark lashes and a full-lipped mouth. The mouth smiled, but not the kind of smile that makes you want to smile back. This kind of smile prickled her back and made the fine hairs on her arms stand erect. The face was handsome and a sense of familiarity touched the edge of her subconscious, teasing her, before it darted away.
"I was thinking I would give you another plunge into that tub of water if you weren't going to come around. Lucky for you." The deep voice sounded crisp, every vowel clipped short, every consonant clearly pronounced. His eyes never left hers and she became acutely aware that his hand rested on the back of her neck, neither pulling her towards him nor pushing her away. Just there. In spite of the warmth of his hand she shivered. The rough ridge of calluses on the inside of his palm scratched her skin.
He released her and she stepped away from him only to bump into the water tub behind her.
He stood several inches taller than her, broad-shouldered and dressed in black from head to toe. When he pushed a damp strand of her hair off her face, his hand brushed the top of her shoulder. She stiffened as his touch made something skitter inside her even though his eyes mesmerized her. The rich color of his irises stirred something pleasant in her mind. Just keep looking into his eyes.
There was a fireplace near her, and from the half-light of the fire, she noticed a bed with rumpled sheets at the opposite end of where she stood. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. She curled her bare toes into the hard, earthen floor.
"I know you don't remember anything. You've had an accident. Lost your memory. But I'm here to help you. You are Shai Eli from Lael. I've chosen you to be with me. To give me an heir. It's the happiest day of your life."
She blinked back a sudden prickling of tears and took a deep breath to calm the panic that leaped into her throat.
"And I know you?" She didn’t recognize her own voice, but it vibrated in her throat.
His mouth twisted into that smile again, but she stared into his eyes until her racing pulse slowed down.
"Of course, my love. I'm Samael. Just say my name and you will remember me."
Her tongue felt thick in her mouth, foreign. How could she have forgotten what her own tongue felt like?
She tried to speak his name, sliding the first letter across her lips and making a hissing sound. He smiled wider. White teeth, so white the sight of them made her head hurt. He nodded.
She tried again. "Sssss...sss...am...a...el." Each syllable she drew out evoked a look of pleasure from him.
"Again." He whispered and moved closer to her.
"Sam...a...el." His name slid across her tongue like a sharp blade against soft skin. Her heart fluttered inside her chest, and a chill grew in her stomach, filling an ache she was vaguely aware of. She breathed in deeply and watched a
s he closed his eyes and leaned his head back with a look of ecstasy.
Maybe I do know him. Maybe I do want to be with him. She probed herself for the happiness he spoke of. But the cold, achy feeling stretched into something deeper: a desperate desire to be wanted, to belong. But he must want me or I wouldn't be here. She pushed herself to remember. To make herself believe what he told her.
Then the cloudiness in her mind shifted, a shaft of light broke through. A figure stood behind Samael. Someone tall and lean with shoulder-length hair and a scar across one cheek. He entered the room and the lights came on in her mind. I know who he is. She mouthed his name. Remiel.
Samael's eyes darkened, and the muscles in his jaw twitched. The pulse in his neck jumped as he turned to look at his uninvited guest. One minute Remiel and Samael were across the room from each the other, the next they were grappling on the floor. Their bodies twisted and writhed around each other until Shai couldn’t tell them apart.
A sudden loathing rose up in her stomach and pushed up her throat like acid. Samael. I remember him. She looked around the room for a weapon and spotted a small table littered with an assortment of objects glinting in the light of the fire. A small hammer, a saw the length of her hand, a chisel, a long-handled pair of scissors. Her captor's objects of torture or pleasure? Her eyes fell on a knife with a long curving blade.
The sounds of the fight behind her diminished as she curled the fingers of both hands around the hilt of the weapon. She raised it above her head just as the weight of someone's hand on her shoulder turned her around.
She cried out as she turned, swinging the blade across the face there. Every muscle, every tissue pulsed. Alive with revulsion and hatred for Samael. The blade connected with soft skin, and cut through the cheek, flaying it open like a gutted fish. She watched his mouth fill with blood and he coughed, splattering the front of her dark crimson. The whites of his exposed back teeth turned red. He reached out and grabbed her arm. The sleeve of her once pretty, lemon-yellow shirt tore as he fell.
With slurred words he said, "I will die for you." His blazing blue eyes shone like pools of truth. Proof of his love for her. Remiel!
"Noooo!" She reached for him but missed. He collapsed to the ground at her feet just as a pain exploded in the back of her head, and everything was swallowed up in darkness.
CHAPTER 61
Aliah
The crowd parted to let the wild girl through. Pale-faced and glassy-eyed she streaked towards Aliah. The pendant at her throat caught the overhead electric light, reflecting it back to him in miniature rainbows.
She had Shai's face, Shai's hair and her slender body, but the eyes weren't the familiar pale shade of blue. These eyes looked so dark he thought they might be coal-black. His heart sunk to his knees.
It was Shai. How she came to be here in the Core he didn't know. Why she was covered in blood-splatter was a disturbing thought he'd rather not analyze now. In a moment she'd be on him, and quite possibly, he'd be sliced to pieces, judging from the look in her eyes.
"Shai!" A voice smooth as velvet yet hard as steel made Aliah jump and Shai stopped, her right arm still over her head, the long blade dripping thick crimson drops into her hair.
Aliah couldn't see who spoke. Shai completely filled his line of vision, but the tenor of it reached into the recesses of his mind and pulled on a memory like someone flipped a switch.
The memory was of a man whose face was like chiseled stone: angular, grooved and brown. His hair fell to his shoulders in soft white waves. Eyes as clear and deep a blue as a late summer sky. He was neither tall nor short, fat nor thin. And his age couldn't be told just by looking at him.
It was that same man that walked towards Shai now. He moved with precision, head straight, shoulders back, hands behind his back. He looked like a man who'd led a thousand countries into war and emerged the victor. No one moved and no one spoke. His presence seemed to fill the Core.
Shai's eyes focused on Aliah's and he saw a flash of recognition before she fell at his feet. The light had gone from her wide-open eyes, but the movement of her chest said she was still alive. The blade rolled from her open hand and Aliah kicked it aside, the smell of it so strong he could taste it.
The white-haired man knelt beside Shai and the blood from her hands stained his garments. He took her hand in his and kissed it while he stroked back the dirty matted hair from her face. Her eyes stared upwards, unblinking.
The man stood and looked at Aliah. A bloody smear near his mouth. "She's fighting hard. Her mind has already been wiped and Samael's already started reconditioning her. But she's fighting with everything in her." He turned and motioned to a few men standing around.
"Get her into my chambers. Do it quickly."
"Elchai." The name caught in Aliah's throat. It had been too long since they'd seen each other. The memories too new since the truth had come.
The older man gripped Aliah's shoulder, marking him with blood. "I was with her a moment ago. She seemed fine. Well, not fine, but not like this." He looked at the ground, at the bloody blade a few feet away, at the spot Shai had fallen and the red smear on Elchai's face.
"All this blood..." His stomach heaved.
"Son, go to my chambers and stay with her. She has crossed over. Something has happened on the other side. She needs you to watch her from this side so something like that doesn't happen again. Let Remiel take care of what's happening in Gershom." Elchai's voice softened.
Aliah shook the older man's hand off his shoulder. "I'm not your son. And what good am I if I stay here while Remiel is off doing whatever's he's doing in Gershom?" He didn't care if his tone was sarcastic. Didn't care that Elchai's mouth dipped down. He had wanted to see Elchai earlier, to talk to him about the Book in order to win back Shai's trust. But with Elchai standing in front of him, Aliah discovered he hated the Book as much as he hated the pendants. The Book had been responsible for the Laws and punishments in Lael, and it was the cause of Sileas's death.
The crowd had dispersed now that Shai had been carried off. Someone came to remove the knife and sweep the dirt, erasing the stain of blood on the ground without complaint or comment. A strange thought flitted through Aliah’s mind. Kentites are warriors. They are used to seeing blood.
Aliah walked back the way he came. His steps surer, his back straighter. He would go to Gershom. If he stayed here he'd want to plunge that curved blade deep into Elchai's neck or cut off each of his fingers that were responsible for writing the Book. In Gershom he could find the Book and put the page back. If Shai had crossed over into Gershom the three of them would be together. The Coalition could happen. He had to make it happen. Couldn't Elchai see that?
Heavy footsteps in the corridor behind him made him turn around. The whites of Elchai's eyes seemed to glow in the dim light, his hair a shimmery halo around his head.
"You can't go to Gershom. The Son of Thunder is the one the Book describes. The one who'll die to save the many."
"It's because of your damn Book that I have to go to Gershom! I have a page of it, Elchai! I can't sit here and let the future die! Why can't you see that!"
"It's you who can't see. Gershom is in another realm. In order to put the page back you'd have to cross over. That means facing Death. You won't come back if you go there.” Elchai touched Aliah's arm. "Shai is dying. And everyone in Lael will too if you don't let Remiel do what he needs to do. Samael only wants revenge against me. To take everything he can from me. Remiel has gone to trade his life for Shai's and all of Lael's. Life for life. Don't go."
Aliah jerked his arm away from Elchai then turned and ran.
Elchai's voice rang out in the corridor. "Only love is stronger than death. If you die for any other reason you'll lose your life as well as Shai's. Don't go!"
The pounding of Aliah's feet thundered in his ears and matched the pounding of his heart against his ribs.
"I'm going Elchai, and you can't stop me. I'm going to talk to my father! Maybe you should've writ
ten that in your Book!"
He wasn't certain, but if the echo didn't lie Elchai said, "one son's death is enough."
If Aliah had to die to set things right, it was a price he was willing to pay. He had nothing to lose. And going to Gershom had nothing to do with Remiel. He was still angry with Remiel for leaving. He was going for Shai, and for Lael. To fix what he had done.
CHAPTER 62
Shai
A deep red hue burned through her closed eyelids. Her cheeks warmed from the heat of a lantern, or something, held close to her face. Soft voices, the rustle of garments, and then the gentle pressure of someone touching her, first her face then her hands. Sounds of water dripping and the moist heat of a damp cloth wiping her face and her hands. Single words filtered into her foggy mind, none of them making sense on their own: crossed over, reset, pendant. Then a deeper voice, the same voice that had called to her earlier, whose depth and resonance had stopped her from jabbing the knife between those pretty, green eyes.
She trembled. The voice spoke in soft tones, but her body responded as though he had yelled. Reconditioned. Remiel.
Her legs suddenly jerked, and her arms bumped against her sides in violent pulses. Her head thrashed from side to side. She couldn't control anything. A sharp pain in the side of her tongue and the taste of blood filled her mouth. She bit her tongue and the inside of her lip until the blood flowed and tears ran. A narrow tunnel opened up in front of her. The voices grew quieter, the light dimmer, as the darkness reached for her and pulled her back in.
Remiel. It was her first conscious thought when she opened her eyes.
She turned her head and saw she was back in Samael’s room. Remiel was strapped to a chair across the room near the fire with his arms behind his back. The dirty rag tied across his mouth had turned bright red from his bloody wound.
The Coalition Episodes 1-4 Page 20
