Princess Reviled

by Butler, J. M.

  Amelia held up her hands. "You want to kill yourself. All right. Fine! But why? Tell me why now. Why is it so important now?"

  AaQar stood. His grip tightened on the dagger hilt. "I owe you no explanation. Sister or not, I will kill you if you remain. Now go!"

  Amelia pulled back, fighting the urge to run. The coldness in his eyes haunted her. It was as if he was no more than a vengeful spirit. Her voice shook a little as she spoke. "No, AaQar. No. We need to talk. The book says that the Neyeb can cure mental maladies. Some of them have a gift for it, and it comes easily to them. Any of them can learn." She ran her hand on the edge of the tapestry and then extended the flat of her palm to show the film. "This stuff is destroying your mind. This is eating you alive."

  AaQar laughed coldly. "Should this not delight you? Are we not enemies?" He ran his finger along the dagger, not even flinching when the tip sliced into his flesh. "Why would you want to help me?" He chuckled, then shrugged. "Don't even tell me. It makes no difference. I warned you to leave. I warned you that you were not welcome. But you didn't listen. So die, Neyeb." Roaring, he lunged at her.

  Amelia dodged to the side, dropped to the ground, and slid under the tapestries. Her slippers squeaked on the dull black floor. She then dove under another.

  AaQar bellowed again. The tapestries snapped to face inward, but Amelia dove beneath another and ran in the opposite direction. After sliding under a few more, she slowly rose to a half crouch and listened. Her heart thundered in her ears as she held her breath. Yet all sound except her own heartbeat had ceased. The entire chamber was muted. Though the tapestries slid along, there was not even the slight whooshing of the double woven fabric.

  Still holding her breath, Amelia looked around. Where had AaQar gone? The film had increased even more on the tapestries. In some places it had become so thick that the fabric underneath could not be seen at all. The tops sagged even more.

  AaQar really is dying. The thought pained Amelia deeply. Crouching down further, Amelia lifted the bottom of the nearest tapestry and peered under. Still no sign of AaQar, though the horrid smell was much worse now.

  Cautiously, Amelia made her way back. The crater itself was bigger now. Her stomach rolled. At least she hadn't eaten. There was nothing for her to vomit up.

  She set the bag down and then grabbed a fistful of the nearest white film. It was greasy and cold, resisting her grip. Gritting her teeth, Amelia gave the strands a hard tug. The tapestries pulled forward. Then, all at once, the film began to come together. Even at the points when she could not see how the film was attached, it joined and folded in. If she plucked at the side rather than pulling straight into the crater, the film broke apart and reattached. But so long as she drew it in hand over hand, it came together and slowly slid into the festering wound.

  The awful stench worsened. Amelia grimaced, struggling to keep from taking too deep a breath. But the fetid odor filled her mouth and nose, coating her hair and clothing. Shivers and shudders of disgust raced through her. She focused on pulling it along like giant strings and funneling them ever downward.

  Her arms began to ache after several minutes of this. But slowly the crater was shrinking. "Come on." She gritted her teeth and quickened her pace. "You can do this."

  Suddenly someone seized her from behind. "You just won't leave, will you?" AaQar hissed in her ear. "Do you even know what you're trying to save?"

  Amelia kept her chin high. The blade of the dagger pressed against her throat, its jagged points cutting in lightly if she breathed too deeply. "Yes, I—"

  "No, you don't." AaQar's grip tightened on her. "And you don't need me alive. If I die, Naatos and WroOth will take on my role. Unlike the Nalenths, we are not all required to be present at specific Tue-Rah's restorations. Only one of us must survive. I am unnecessary, and I am tired. Please. Let me go."

  He didn't sound as cold as before. Some hint of reasonableness tinged the sorrow. "You aren't unnecessary," Amelia said. "You aren't. And you're just sick, AaQar. I promise! This is an illness. You are needed and wanted. Your family loves you. And you're the sanest member of your family."

  AaQar chuckled, but his grip loosened slightly as he moved the blade away. "That does not speak highly of my family, now does it?"

  "AaQar, WroOth is this close to losing his mind. He was beating himself bloody trying to get to you. I don't even know what Naatos is doing, but if you die—"

  "They will be fine without me. Everyone will be better without me. Trust me. A few hundred years ago, I might have questioned that more. But no longer. They know they need one another." He thrust the dagger back against her throat. "When I am gone, they will not fall apart. They will grieve, and then they will find they are well. Far better than they ever were with me."

  Amelia held her breath. She didn't want to say it, and yet the words pressed deep within her, begging to be released. "No, they won't. And I won't be either."

  AaQar's hand dropped.

  Amelia turned.

  He wore the robe once more, though it was only loosely fastened. The harshness in his eyes had softened. Clear blood dripped down his chest, but the deep gouges had mostly healed. He stared at her. Amelia met his gaze, unsure what to say, uncertain what he would do.

  AaQar sighed heavily. Then he sheathed the dagger. "You are tenacious. And I am worn. Apparently I am also ill."

  "Does the whitening lead to this? Is it the same as rulpevro?" Amelia watched him, relieved but cautious. The tension and heaviness in the air had lessened though, and the festering odor was not so bad.

  A block of stone appeared behind AaQar. He sat on it and shook his head wearily. "No. Rulpevro sounds like a Neyeb name, one of the diseases they catalogued. As for the whitening, I have never heard of it causing such problems. In truth, Amelia, I don't know where this…substance came from. But my mind like this…this is your creation. The tapestries and the crater. When I close my eyes, this is not what I see unless I search for it. But I only know that location or transformation technique, whatever you want to call it, because of Killoth. And why would I go to a Neyeb or permit deep mindreading? This…these are my thoughts. I would not invite anyone here. Especially not a stranger." He studied her, his gaze sorrowful and disturbed. "I don't know why I can't seem to kill you. You should be dead."

  "I should have died a long time ago." Amelia edged closer. "Let me help."

  AaQar glanced at her. His voice grew colder. "You aren't going to change me, Amelia. Do you understand that? If you knew me, you would leave me in this place and let me die."

  Amelia opened her mouth, but AaQar held up his hand. "You do not understand." He gripped her shoulder and pulled her along. "You do not know." He stopped in front of a tapestry, exhaling slowly. The film weakened and thinned enough over the tapestry so that she could see into it. "Tell me if you wish to save me even after this."

  Amelia peered into the tapestry. A red stone room carved from a mountain appeared before her. Three Neyeb were there, two men, one woman. It startled Amelia to see how much they looked like her, not only in form but in their manner. Long, dark hair bound back, high swooping cheekbones, dark marks on their foreheads and wrists, a distinctive energy radiating from them. Her hand lifted out of instinct. They were speaking with words! Not with telepathy. Her heart leaped. Vague recognition spread over her, telling her their names and odd details of their lives.

  "And tomorrow..." The tapestry Naatos spoke slowly, almost as if the words pained him. "It would be for the best if all three of you set aside your claims. This time of turmoil will only increase."

  Othia, the woman, gave a slight nod. "Lord Para, what are you hiding? Why are you so grieved?"

  Amelia dropped her gaze, unable to watch, knowing what was coming. Naatos and his brothers had murdered the Neyeb Paras-to-be when they had refused to cooperate. That was what this memory held. An unnatural pain struck her amid her grief. She pressed her elmis back against herself to block the external surges of emotion further. "I know you killed
Neyeb. I know you killed other people. I know that you have done horrible things. What is it you want me to understand?"

  "Who I am. What I have done. My flesh may be white as snow, but I am drenched in blood." AaQar pointed to the tapestry. "This man…that is who you are saving."

  In the tapestry, Amelia saw the coldness of the tapestry AaQar's eyes. The paleness of his features made the horror stand out all the more. The look in his eyes there was similar to what she had seen when he attacked her moments before.

  "The greatest irony is that Naatos did what he did to save the Neyeb most of all. Only if we retained our leadership could he ensure that they were protected. And while we were there, killing these, someone else was murdering the rest." AaQar stared at the tapestry as the scene began once more. He closed his eyes. "There have been so many…I was born in blood. Death is my skin. Those people…they're the ones you should have saved."

  Amelia remained beside him, the emotions still swelling and flowing all around her. But her own were clear. "I can't save them. I don't even know that I can save you. I think in the end, you're going to have to want to live. But I'm going to do what I can."

  "I don't deserve it. Leave."

  "Helping people isn't about deserving though." Amelia's chest tightened. If Vorec heard this, he'd probably cuff her into the next week. The truth of the matter bloomed within her own mind, and she almost laughed and cried at once, covering her mouth to stop the sound.

  "No," she said at last. "I could say that I don't want you to die because this is about the Tue-Rah, and I don't want to risk that you're wrong and it only takes one of you to restore it. But it's more than that. Deep down, at the heart of everything, AaQar, I…" She dropped her gaze to the ground. "I have to save you if I can because even though you're a murderer and a liar and a despot…"

  Vorec and the others had been right to distrust her. Shame rose with the tears in her eyes. Yet denial was somehow worse. "It's not that I don't recognize what you are. I do. I don't agree with you. But it's like in a family. Just because your family does something terrible doesn't mean you want them to die. You want them to do better. You want them to stop. But you don't want them to die. And I don't want you to die." She put her hand to her head, startled at her own realization of herself. "I don't want you to die, AaQar. And I don't want WroOth or even Naatos to either. And maybe the prophecy can be fulfilled in another way. Maybe I really don't have to kill you. Maybe I just stop you. But I don't even really care about that right now. Right now, the only thing I care about is getting you out of here. And I…I love you."

  AaQar's eyebrow arched. "Pardon?"

  Amelia's cheeks heated. She rubbed the back of her neck. "It isn't theoretical at all. I guess I do feel like you're part of my family, and I love you like you are my brother. I'm not changing my stance on the Tue-Rah, but we can settle that another time. For now, just let me help you. And don't make me say it again." She choked on the words, unable to hide the tears. "I just don't want you to die, AaQar."

  AaQar scoffed, but his voice had lost its venom. "We don't always get what we want in life."

  "No. I didn't want to be a part of this family, but I am. And you can't leave me now." Amelia wiped the tears with the back of her hand. "Do you really think I can manage your brothers without you?"

  Shaking his head, AaQar opened his mouth to speak. The words failed to come. He then put his hand on her shoulder, and she grabbed him in a tight hug.

  "Please don't die, AaQar," she whispered. "If you regret what you've done, then change. If there is more good to be done, then do it. But please, I…" She choked on more tears. They streamed down her face and into his shoulder. "I know you miss Rasha and Nydas. I can feel it. I know you feel like you ruined everything, but you didn't, and deep down, I think you know that. You're just afraid of what it really means. And we all want you. So let me help you. Don't you deserve at least a chance to see what you are like healed? What if all of this was gone? What if that's why I'm in your life? Neyeb heal minds. Won't you let me at least try?"

  AaQar started to laugh, the tension in his hands and shoulders lessened. "I don't understand you. I never have. I didn't understand why Elonumato chose you for this, but there is one thing I can say: you are a tenacious little vespyr. You aren't going to stop until I say yes, are you?" He smiled, though the weariness in his eyes remained as he placed his hands on her shoulders. "All right. I'll let you help me. Do what you think a Neyeb is supposed to do. Then I will make my decision."

  17

  Rest

  Amelia wiped the tears from her damp cheeks and resumed drawing the strands back into the crater. Though they had been stiff when she first started, they released easier now, coming in to fill the wound. AaQar grasped some of the other strands and began pulling them as well. For a time, they worked in silence, the only sound the whirring of the greasy strands.

  "Is this going to heal the whitening as well?" Amelia asked at last.

  AaQar stared down, his focus on the crater, the strands loosely grasped in his hands. "I chose to take the whitening upon myself. I must choose to remove it as well."

  Amelia wasn't sure how to respond. She didn't want to be rude, but she suspected they might be connected. "I saw in some of your memories that you had black hair and blue eyes like your brothers. Do you like looking this way now instead of that? Is there a way you can stand out without being at risk for more problems? If the whitening is part of the problem, I mean."

  AaQar smiled a little. "It's a mark of shame, little sister. Every Vawtrian can change his base appearance. Hair color, skin color, eye color, and so on is easy enough to transform. Removing all color to this, well…It's more dangerous for many reasons though I had not given much thought to what might happen in my mind. It's different from albinism, hyperpigmentation, and olcarism. It is beyond melanin, eumelanin, and phaeomelanin. This goes to the soul. It is a sign of mourning, sorrow, and shame. Shame that the recipient feels, not that his people or family place upon him. Rasha would not have left me without reason, and she would not have avoided all word with me unless I had done something to deserve it. But…" AaQar paused. His brow creased as his grip on the strands tightened. "She was a good woman, Amelia. A good mother. A good Vawtrian. A good warrior. A good strategist. A good leader. A…a good wife. Something went wrong, and I don't know what or how. And at times I despise her as much as I love her. This…" He gestured to his body. "It's a reminder of my guilt. Somehow I erred and failed both my wife and my son."

  "How do you know that it was your fault?" Amelia asked.

  AaQar's eyes narrowed. "Because if I stopped believing that any more than I have, I would hate her more than I ever loved her. I would curse her memory and existence. But those good memories are all I have left. If she was the only one who was guilty, then the last thing I will permit her to steal is what little joy I have in the memories of our past. I don't want to think about her role any longer. But I will not give up the possibility of feeling those memories of happiness and love when life was beautiful."

  His perspective was distinct from what Amelia had expected or would have wanted for herself. But there was something sweet in it, albeit destructive. "How does the whitening weaken you?"

  "Oh, in so many ways. It's exceptionally difficult for a Vawtrian to kill himself. Our own bodies resist it, even in grief. Not that it is much easier for our enemies to kill us once we reach a certain point of form. This form looks the way it does because I am draining away much of my strength and essence while maintaining a certain camouflage."

  "And yet you go into battle?" Amelia eyed him with surprise. "You healed many times."

  "Healing is instinctual. And lately we have only battled against the Awdawms and Machat. To die, my healing must be exhausted entirely, and, for the purpose I have chosen, my intentions and suffering complete and the price paid. Things just got out of hand."

  "Do your brothers know?"

  "It has been the source of many fights." AaQar smiled wry
ly.

  Amelia noticed that the tapestries shifted and changed places. She couldn't see through the film as the ghost images danced beneath, but she suspected memories of those conversations and interventions had come to the forefront of AaQar's mind. She tugged harder on the web.

  "Naatos wanted to find and kill Rasha. That was how he saw the situation resolving," AaQar said. "And WroOth, well, he was far more concerned about losing me, so he too thought revenge would somehow be a comfort. They think that need and vengeance will end this grief. But that was never what it was about. There was so much more. So much more. It was—" AaQar stopped short, blinking. The strands fell from his hands as he clasped his head. He drew in a shuddering breath. "Something changed…"

  Amelia glanced from him to the crater. It was far smaller now, and the silver blue of the yarn wrapping the tapestries glimpsed through in some places. When she looked back, she realized he had staggered away, the strands sliding from his hands.

  She rushed to his side and steadied him, then searched for a pulse. The reassuring thud thud reached her. She nodded, grateful it was stronger. "I guess we're farther along than I thought. The book said you'd need to sleep to finish healing. I'm going to finish pulling those strands off. And you're going to sleep and heal."

  "What is this?" AaQar mumbled. He struggled to keep his eyes open. "It's still for me to choose. I haven't decided what I'm going to do." His eyes slid shut. "What did you do?"

  "Yes. It's still up for you to choose. I'm helping you heal." Amelia placed her hand over his. "You're getting better. Look." She gestured toward the tapestries, her own relief growing. The colors had brightened a little. Images, some clear and others misted, were now apparent. The crater likewise was no wider than his elbow's length. "And the smell is going away."

  "Yes." AaQar frowned, his voice more distant. "This sleep is different."