Princess Reviled

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Princess Reviled Page 16

by Butler, J. M.


  "No, no, you're fine." Amelia placed her hand on his arm. The connection intensified, a stronger fluttering now that moved out from her mind and over his. "I would not ask you to violate the elder commander's orders about me. I am just making sure that you remember what was said. I am sure you know also that the white Vawtrian is in bad condition. They think he is dying. I cannot go down there, but no one else knows how to treat him."

  "Even ill, he may be dangerous," Dian said, nodding in affirmation.

  "Yes, exactly. Now, if you remember that the elder commander said that I was not to be allowed into the dungeon but you were, you will also remember that the king said that none of the Vawtrians can die because we need them. Do you remember that?" Amelia tilted her head, watching him intently.

  Dian frowned, four worry creases forming in his brow. "I…do remember that," he said. His expression eased.

  "The white Vawtrian will die if he is not tended. So that means something must be done. And you'll also remember that the king told you exactly what to do if he needed to be treated, yes? That you are to enter into his cell, bind his arms, wrap him in cloth, and bring him to my room so I can treat him in private. You remember this, yes?"

  Dian shifted his weight. His jaw worked, but then he slid his hands into his pockets and nodded. "Yes, I remember that very clearly."

  "Good. Now you will also remember that extreme caution must be taken. People are very angry with these three and for good reason. But we must do what we must to keep Libysha safe and restore the Tue-Rahs. So you will need to wrap his body in this." She handed him a large blanket with various buckles and fasteners which converted it essentially into a body bag. "You will bring him up the back way so that no one sees him. And then when I have finished treating him, you'll take him back. Are you going to need any help with this? I can find others to help you."

  "No. I remember." Dian took the large navy blanket from her. "I will complete this as swiftly as possible."

  "And remember you are not to tell anyone about this." Amelia squeezed his arm, hoping that the commands would stick.

  "I will not say a word."

  "Good. If anyone sees you, you are just bringing me new clothes."

  Dian nodded and murmured his assent, then descended, the blanket over his shoulder. Amelia breathed with relief. That had been far easier than she anticipated. The internal logical way of presenting it had made the alterations feel so real she might have believed them herself.

  As soon as Dian entered the dungeon, Amelia returned to her room. Her heart beat faster, urging her to complete all preparations. She checked and doublechecked the windows to ensure they were covered. Then she analyzed and reanalyzed her supplies. The books on the races contained some medical information on the Vawtrians, so she opened them to the appropriate chapters and spread them out on the small desk, vanity, and book shelf. Almost every empty space in the bedroom was covered, the tiny toys dwarfed by the massive tomes, bottles of herbs, and a sizable mortar and pestle.

  A knock at the door announced the presence of a servant. Amelia slid the door back just enough to accept the large kettle of broth and thanked the woman. The servant eyed her cautiously but handed the vessel over without question. "Will you be wanting anything else?"

  "This will do for now. Thank you." Amelia closed the door at once.

  The copper kettle steamed with the rich liquid, filling the room with its nourishing scents even through the lid. Amelia set it on the woven rug beside the double doors that led out to her balcony.

  Then she waited.

  The seconds and minutes passed like hours. But finally Dian arrived with AaQar. Dian's face wasn't even reddened from exertion.

  "Just put him there," Amelia said, pointing to the bed. She rolled up her sleeves, bound them with a ribbon, and put on a clean pair of gloves and a headband.

  Dian did so. "Is there anything else you require?" he asked, his tone courteous.

  "Return to your post. I will let you know when you can take him back."

  "Do you need any assistance?"

  "No. You have done perfectly. Remember though, you must speak of this to no one."

  Dian nodded once more as Amelia ushered him out. She closed the door firmly and then locked it, taking a bracing breath. "Please don't be dead, AaQar. You're the only sane one in your family," she whispered.

  It took only seconds to unfasten the buckles and uncover AaQar's face. He looked like an alabaster sculpture wrapped in blue cloth, ready to be put on display. Both the gauntness and pallor had increased. Amelia's heart lurched. His skin was so cold. She pressed her fingers against his neck, searching for a pulse. A soft irregular thumping reached her.

  Relieved, Amelia let her head fall forward. "Thank you, Elonumato. All right. Don't give up on me now, AaQar." She brought the most useful of the books to the bed beside her and began examining AaQar as thoroughly as she could. She checked the glands in his throat, listened to his heart, searched him for wounds, and tested his blood pressure. Nothing was swollen, obviously infected, or broken. The only clear symptoms were his unconsciousness and the cold of his body. This was nothing like any of the natural illnesses that could set upon a Vawtrian. He did appear exceedingly malnourished though. It was as if the skeleton tried to break free of the flesh.

  Standing, Amelia shook her head. He needed food. She brought the kettle to the bedside and carefully ladled the soup into a bowl, cooled it, and then poured it down his throat. A slight sigh escaped AaQar's lips, and he swallowed each time. But there was no other response.

  "Did you do this to yourself, AaQar?" Amelia asked softly. She poured a little more broth into his mouth, no more than a sip. "Are you still trying to kill yourself? I thought you were going to wait until the Tue-Rahs were restored. You really shouldn't be doing this. WroOth is about to lose his mind, and I don't even know what Naatos is doing. But you have to come back. I don't think I can manage the two of them alone."

  AaQar remained still. No color had returned to his face, and his breaths remained just as slow.

  Amelia pulled off her gloves. A faint bit of nausea twisted in her stomach. As soon as her elmis were exposed, waves of emotion rolled over them. And like a deadly riptide, a dark and horrifying grief threatened to tear her into oblivion. Amelia's eyes widened, tears springing up and spilling over. While AaQar had overwhelmed her with his grief before, this was far worse. Vicious. Crushing. Engulfing. She drew back, pushing against the deluge. As the books instructed, she envisioned putting up a wall against those feelings to protect herself and still observe him. Clarity slowly returned to her mind.

  "You did do this. You didn't mean to, but you did do it." Amelia covered her mouth, unable to take her eyes off him. Some part of her understood this even if she could not entirely explain it, and instincts told her what she needed to do. She knelt beside him, placing her hand on his cheek. The emotional cacophony of AaQar's mind strengthened, but it was not part of her. The wall she had created held. "AaQar, you have to come back, and if you won't, I'm going to go in there and get you. We can work together and fix this."

  Rising, Amelia glanced about the room. Everything was locked and as secure as she could make it. She grabbed a bag, put the Neyeb skill book inside along with some herbs and a couple daggers. She was not going to make the same mistake she made with Matthu and his mind. Slipping the strap over her shoulder, she returned to AaQar's side. He probably wasn't going to be happy about this. He liked his privacy, and he had made several comments regarding his feelings about Neyeb prying. But what else was there to do?

  Amelia knelt back at AaQar's side, then leaned over him and pressed his eyelids back. His pupils widened, but there was no other response. "I guess we're just going to have to hope no one else comes in," she said. She stared into his pupils, focusing on the deeper connection. His pupils contracted, then dilated. Darkness swallowed Amelia's vision.

  It no longer disoriented her so much to return to the black room filled with slowly dancing tapestries. W
hat startled her was the deep film and threadlike substance that had misted over AaQar's memories. Not like the spiderwebs but a thick woven greasy dust. The scent of rotten flesh and stale cooking oil filled the air. Amelia cringed, covering her nose. What was that smell? And what had happened to his mind! She pulled out her book, hoping to find answers.

  "What are you doing here?"

  Amelia turned as AaQar strode out from between two of the tapestries. His long blue and silver robe flowed out around him, making him look far larger and stronger than his current physical form. He stood with his hands behind his back, but his eyes blazed.

  "I came to—"

  "Leave now." AaQar crossed his arms, his gaze fastened on her. "Leave. Or die with me in this tomb I once called a mind."

  16

  A Brother in Need

  Amelia stiffened at the harshness of AaQar's tone. She adjusted the book in the crook of her arm. "You're trying to kill yourself. I can't let you do that."

  A sarcastic smile tugged at AaQar's mouth. "Indeed. As the Third Nalenth, is that not your task? To stop us from succeeding in a conquest of the worlds?"

  Amelia tilted her head. The strange film covered most of the images within the tapestries. Vague movements came through like half-hidden shadows. The urge to save him was as strong as breathing. She'd felt a similar pressure to save Shon, a deep knowledge that this was what she had to do. This was how it had to be. She slipped the book into her satchel. "What did you do to yourself to cause this?"

  "It is none of your concern," AaQar said. "Just go."

  "Why do you want to die?"

  "You know that already." AaQar circled her, his arms folded.

  "What is all this?" Amelia ran her finger along the edge of the tapestry. The film clung to her finger like old grease and dust.

  "Do you know what happens if I die while you're here?" AaQar asked, his voice sinister yet soft.

  "Probably nothing good." Amelia kept her eyes on him. The harsh glint in his gaze intensified. It was AaQar, but something was wrong. Her unease increased, tightening in her gut.

  "Exactly." AaQar hissed the word through his teeth. He stopped in front of her, leaning in until he was a breath away. "So leave or suffer."

  "AaQar—"

  AaQar backhanded her. "I said leave!"

  Amelia fell back, cupping her hand over her cheek. Pain flared up through her face as she gave a startled cry. It hurt as if he had actually struck her, but she wasn't sure whether the damage affected her physical body. "I came to help you. I'm going to bring you back."

  "Did you not hear me?" AaQar lunged at her. He seized her by the throat and lifted her off the ground. "I said leave!"

  Amelia kicked and struggled, gasping for breath. His fingers crushed her throat, terrifying her. The bag slammed against her side. But though she punched and fought, it made no difference to AaQar. This AaQar was terrifyingly strong, capable of lifting her with only one hand. Her struggle had no effect on him as he carried her through the tapestries until he reached their end and cast her into the darkness.

  Amelia gasped, rolling onto her back. The bag clattered beside her. Her heart hammered as adrenaline roiled through her veins. Tiny black spots danced before her eyes.

  "You are not welcome here, Neyeb," AaQar said, glaring at her. The whiteness of his skin almost glowed as he stepped back amid the tapestries. "I will not warn you again." The tapestries snapped together into a wall, facing inward with no spaces in between.

  Massaging her neck, Amelia stared after him. The horror of the past few moments clung to her. She had never guessed he would be this angry at her arrival. Even in battle, he had not seemed so terrifying.

  Slowly she stood and adjusted the bag's strap on her shoulder. No other sounds came from within the tapestries except the faint rustle of the material. The backs of the tapestries faced her. They continued to shift at a slower rate, but they maintained a consistent wall, not allowing even the slightest crack of light through.

  "Come on, woman," Amelia muttered. "No backing out now." Rubbing her neck once more, she sat back on the ground and pulled out her books.

  Streams of profanity and rageful bellowing rose from within the tapestries. Amelia froze, cautious. He was moving farther away, his voice muffled by the fabric until it vanished. The thick film on his tapestries had to be part of the problem.

  Time was not in her favor.

  She thumbed through the indexes and searched the tables of contents. When she had checked earlier she had found nothing about how to treat the whitening. But this had to be something else. The disgusting substance covering the tapestries had to hold a clue. At last she uncovered an entry that might help: "Manifestation of Mental Collapse in Rulpevro: Greased Threads, Mental Wounds, Kulsinols, and Memory Shrouding.

  At last! Amelia flipped through the yellowed pages until she came to the appropriate section.

  The final stages of this disease manifest in a large crater within the mind of the patient. It typically centers around a single or series of traumatic events that cut to the core of the patient's identity, resulting in a deep and ever-growing depression. Unchecked, it will consume the mind, draining all memories and thoughts of joy, happiness, and peace until they crumble. It can sometimes accelerate without the patient's realization until it is too late. Additional traumatic injuries or events may increase the rate of decline. Memories will be shrouded in thick strands that will smell foul and diseased, some memory tapestries may be almost entirely hidden. The kulsinols will usually be apparent but will always have one central craterous wound typically at the center of the mind.

  The Neyeb must find this wound within the mind and then begin drawing the white strands into the crater. The strands will all be connected. These should be pulled through in a smooth motion and pushed into the crater. As the strands fill the crater, it will shrink until it vanishes entirely. Afterward, the patient will sleep for another twelve — twenty-four hours. Broths and liquids should be administered upon reawakening. Solids if the patient feels capable of such foods.

  If the patient is in the latter stages, desires for death and an end will become even stronger. The patient will likely become more violent and may even attack the Neyeb, causing significant harm. If the Neyeb knows the individual, the Neyeb should not presume that the previous relationship will mean much. Periods of lucidity may prevent full aggression, but it should be assumed that the individual the Neyeb is dealing with is not the person whom the Neyeb originally knew but often a shadow and embodiment of the worst. Death of the Neyeb and the patient may occur. Physically such patients are typically quite weak. Death of the patient while in the mind will result in death in the body. Neyeb should be highly cautious of inflicting any harm as this could result in death, even if only inflicted upon the mind.

  Ideally, a Neyeb should not enter unaccompanied. A second person should maintain guard over the Neyeb and restrain the Vawtrian with non-violent force when necessary. Violent force should never be used.

  "Now you tell me." Amelia shook her head. "So much for the dagger." She stood as she slipped the books back into the bag. She already knew that AaQar had adopted the whitening and had planned to kill himself. It wasn't hard to believe that there had been at least one or perhaps two things in the past couple days that might have been even more traumatic for him. And apparently there was more to his condition.

  Amelia wrinkled her nose, cringing. The stench had worsened. No sense in putting this off, she thought. Sticking her arm out, she pressed in between the tapestries and wriggled through. Though at first the thick-woven fibers resisted, the tapestries soon gave way and allowed her in. Amelia pulled herself free and slowly strode forward.

  The tapestries had not formed a straight wall. Many coiled around as if spiraling like a shell while others cut in and stood at odd intervals in irregular spacings. The faint movements within the tapestries were like ghosts, flitting in and out of sight. Each time she caught a flicker with the corner of her eye, her heart bea
t faster and sometimes she jumped a little.

  A low wail rose. Amelia stopped short. The moan rose and fell again, shuddering. Sadness rose within Amelia. The sound cut through her heart. The grief was so thick it almost choked her. All around her the tapestries sagged, the film growing heavier.

  Amelia closed her eyes. She'd never heard such a heartrending sound. But the bruises on her neck and swelling in her cheek as well as the warning in the book convinced her to remain guarded.

  She continued on, following the spiral and stepping around the tapestries that were not in the right place. The stench intensified further, but soon another scent reached her: fresh blood. The sickening warm smell with tinges of copper made Amelia's stomach knot and twist. What was he doing? She pushed forward faster, soon hearing trickling and slicing.

  As Amelia rounded the corner, the tapestries formed a small round room. In the center, a large hole gaped. A festering orange substance filled the crater. Large red veins bulged up from the black floor. The film from the tapestries connected to the veins in thicker strands, covering them like a shroud.

  AaQar knelt near the center of the room, his robe and tunic pulled down around his waist. He clenched a jagged dagger in his fist, dragging it across his chest in deep lines. Each time he shuddered, grinding his teeth. With each completed stroke, he then dropped his head and let the clear blood drain from his chest until the wounds healed again. Low moaning cries fell from his lips as tears streamed down his gaunt cheeks.

  Amelia swallowed, her throat tightening. She covered her elmis with her sleeves, the agony washing over her with each of his sobs. The wall in her mind wasn't keeping quite so much out now. All fear fell away as pity and sorrow welled up in their place. She wasn't sure what to do. Help me, Elonumato.

  AaQar stared down at the blade as he finished yet another deep gouge. Tears mixed with the blood. Suddenly he paused, stiffening. Slowly he turned his head. His eyes narrowed, and his muscles clenched. "Do you understand I don't want you here."

 

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