Fathoms of Forgiveness (Sacred Breath, Book 2)

by Nadia Scrieva

  “I… have to go,” Aazuria said. She swam to the edge of the hot spring and lifted herself out quickly, in such a swift motion that Elandria could not protest. Aazuria frowned to see Naclana standing there, with his eyes downcast. A gallon of dread socked her in the gut.

  “Naclana, what’s wrong?” she asked anxiously.

  Elandria was carefully lifting herself out of her healing pod as her sister spoke, and she had to take a moment to adjust to breathing the air. Usually, the transition was more or less seamless, but she had been instructed not to leave the water at all until her health was less delicate. She had even been restricted to taking her (unusually thoroughly cooked and mostly mushy) meals underwater. Breathing the air felt like hyperventilating in comparison with breathing water. The way that the lungs extracted oxygen from the air was a very different, rapid process. It was like overdosing on sugar for an instantaneous burst of energy instead of slowly digesting complex carbohydrates. Elandria’s body was overwhelmed, and she had to exert a great effort in concealing this. Through her dizziness, she read the expression on Naclana’s face.

  Naclana noticed her movement and he paused before speaking. “Princess Aazuria, you will have to come with me to receive my news. Visola is waiting in the garden.”

  Aazuria understood that he was suggesting that Elandria should not be present to hear whatever information he carried. She nodded and turned back to her sister. “Elandria, you need to stay in the water. I will be back shortly, okay?”

  Elandria understood Naclana’s meaning as well, and her heartbeat immediately began to quicken. The strain on the newly-mended organ caused each beat to actually send sharp pain through her chest. She could acutely feel how challenging it was for her heart muscles to send the blood circulating through her body, and how difficult it was to deal with the massive influx of unnecessary oxygen. She admirably battled the urge to place her hand on her chest.

  Instead Elandria pulled herself completely out of the water and approached her sister and the messenger. Her legs threatened to buckle as the world spun around her, but she willed them steady. “No,” she signed. “If it involves Coral, then I need to be there.”

  “You should not leave the hot springs, Elandria. You are still healing. Sionna would kill us all. You heard her orders…”

  “Why are you treating me like an infant?” Elandria furiously signed. “I need to know, Aazuria. Show me the minimum measure of respect!”

  Aazuria hesitated, glancing at Naclana briefly for advice. His eyes were wide, and his lips parted as though he was about to protest, but no sound emerged. She gave him a stern, knowing look, requesting for him to speak up against Elandria coming along to make her look less like the bad guy. He did not utter a sound. She shook her head with impatience.

  “Fine. Come on then.” Aazuria went to her sister’s side, and offered her an arm for support. The two girls slowly followed Naclana through the corridors of the infirmary until they reached a room not too far away. The garden was a dimly-lit space which was carpeted with various forms of mushrooms. A small trickle of a waterfall adorned the Southern wall. Many medicinal remedies were nursed and harvested from the damp soil and rocks.

  Elandria smiled at the sight of the beautiful room, and the fragrant scent of growth which reached her nostrils. She squeezed Aazuria’s hand thankfully before freeing her hands to speak in signage. “The walk has been good for me. Thank you for allowing me to come along. I want to be at your side whether the news is positive or negative.”

  Aazuria nodded, reaching out to embrace her sister again, and holding on tightly for a moment longer than she had intended to. “Whatever happens, Elandria, promise me you will stay calm. For the sake of your health. We must be unemotional.”

  Elandria nodded. When her older sister pulled away from her, she lifted her hands to her thick white braid and began to toy with it nervously. The two women walked forward, into the room where three members of the Ramaris family were waiting for them, spanning three generations. It was not uncommon in submerged settlements like Adlivun to have many more than three generations of family together at once.

  Trevain, his mother Alcyone, and his grandmother Visola all sat near the waterfall quietly chatting. There were several guards in the room, since Visola had made a point of beefing up the security since Corallyn’s abduction. Elandria noticed this and her anxiety intensified.

  “Is this all of us?” Visola asked impatiently. “Naclana, I’m a very busy woman.”

  “This will do,” Naclana said, fidgeting. “I’m just not too sure that Elandria should be here.”

  “Please continue, Cousin,” Elandria signed. Naclana was not technically her cousin since he was a distant relative of Aazuria’s mother, whom she did not share, but technicalities like this did not matter to Elandria. She showed kindness and warmth to all.

  “Alright,” Naclana said, clearing his throat. “As we all know, Corallyn has been missing for several days now.”

  Elandria's head snapped around to look at Aazuria. “I did not know this,” she signed with a startled look in her eyes.

  “I did not wish to upset you,” Aazuria said softly. “Please understand.”

  “You have never lied to me, Aazuria,” Elandria said. “If you start lying to those who are closest to you, it is the first sign of your strength truly unraveling. You are this nation’s exemplar! What is to stop the bonds which hold Adlivun together from becoming weak and completely disintegrating?”

  Aazuria pressed her lips together tightly and nodded. “I am sorry, Elandria. I should not have lied.”

  “Take it easy on her, Elan,” Visola said, giving the quiet, stern-faced girl a forced smile. “Aazuria has a lot on her plate right now, and she is worried sick about Corallyn, and blaming herself for allowing the abduction to happen in the first place. We're all on the same team here, so let's not turn against each other.”

  Elandria nodded. She very much wanted to sit down and put her head in her hands, but instead she looked to Naclana. “Please proceed with delivering your news.”

  Naclana made a signal to one of the guards in the room, who bowed and exited. “A small case was found floating outside the castle today. It... it contained a message from Vachlan.”

  “Another letter?” Trevain asked with a frown. “I'm not sure that I want my mother to hear the types of letters that Vachlan writes.”

  “Young man, I am not as feeble as I appear to be,” Alcyone said, placing a hand on her son's knee reassuringly.

  “I'm not saying that you're weak, mom. It's just that the last letter really upset me, and I don't want you to...”

  “This is worse,” Naclana said gruffly. “I almost want to ask all the ladies to leave the room, but I know that will just make you all even angrier with me.”

  “Damn straight, Naclana,” Visola said, frowning. “So tell me what's going on, and stop pussyfooting around the problem. We all know that Vachlan is a douchebag. Get on with it. I’m expecting the worst here, and the longer you stall, the worse crap I imagine.”

  The guard returned into the room, holding a small, oblong waterproof case which looked like it contained a violin or clarinet. Naclana frowned and took it from him. “Fine. As you command.” He gritted his teeth before flipping the latch and opening the case. It was not a musical instrument which rested against the black velvet lining of the box.

  It was a child's severed arm.

  Alcyone dragged in a ragged gasp of air. Everyone else remained stunned and silent. Elandria’s fingers clutched her braid so tightly that the pattern of her hair was causing imprints on her palms. Aazuria stood unblinking as she stared at the small limb.

  Visola was the first to speak. “Is it hers? Have you been able to confirm that it's Corallyn's arm?”

  “No,” Naclana said. “We haven't done any testing yet...”

  “It's her arm,” Trevain said slowly. He had risen to his feet to closely examine the small fingernails which were painted in a bright orangey-pi
nk hue. His face was contorted, and it took a visible effort for him to speak. “I bought her that nail polish a few weeks ago. We chose it because of her name. Coral Catalyst.”

  “Since when has a man's judgment of color been precise enough to identify anything?” Visola argued. “Most straight men I know can't tell the difference between green and blue. It could be any…”

  “It is her arm,” Aazuria said softly. She reached out and slipped her fingers under the cold flesh, and lifted the small arm from the case. “At least it is only her arm. She has not lost her life. As long as she was given medical attention, she will be fine. Right? She can survive without an arm. She could still be alive. Right? Naclana?”

  “There's more,” he responded quietly.

  “Tell me,” Aazuria demanded. “Tell me everything you know.”

  “Not more news,” he said, choking on the words. “There are more body parts.”

  “Which parts?” Aazuria asked, her voice rising in desperation. “Fingers and toes, that type of thing? Good Sedna, even an ear? Parts she does not need?”

  Naclana sunk his top teeth into his bottom lip. He was unable to respond.

  “Naclana!” Aazuria shouted. The man slightly recoiled from the tone of her voice, and was unable to respond.

  “If you please, Princess,” said the young guard behind Naclana, a dark-skinned woman clad in heavy armor. She stepped forward and bowed before speaking. “Throughout the last few hours we found several more cases containing all the parts of your sister's body. Among them were her limbs, head, and torso.”

  The only sound in the room was Alcyone’s muffled sob.

  “The message was written directly into her skin,” the young guard continued hesitantly. “A different word is engraved in every body part.”

  Aazuria stared down at the arm she held, rotating it to see the word carved into the tiny wrist. Her awareness of anything happening around her dwindled as she stared down blankly at the symbol. She did not notice that a few steps away, Elandria was clutching her chest and fighting a massive bout of nausea and pain. Her heart was beating erratically and quickly, and she was unable to catch her breath. The pain in her chest was spreading and there was a pounding in her head. She felt faint, and although she knew that if she focused she could probably fight her body's inclination to shut itself down, she could not conceive of any good reason to even bother trying to do this.

  “Thank you for telling me, Naclana,” Elandria signed, closing her eyes. Her knees buckled beneath her, and she began to collapse.

  Trevain gathered his senses just quickly enough to catch the falling woman. He held Elandria against him and stared up at Naclana with rage on his face. “Did you have to make a fucking PowerPoint presentation about it, man? Jesus. I despise you.”

  “Power...” Naclana’s brow furrowed in confusion, but Trevain was already leaving the room with Elandria in his arms, depriving him of an explanation. He looked at the Captain’s broad retreating back in confusion, as two of the guards in the room left to escort him. He knew that the words were meant to be insulting, regardless of the details of what they meant.

  “Mama,” Alcyone said brokenly, reaching out toward Visola for support.

  “It’s okay, baby,” Visola said, quickly moving to embrace her elderly daughter. Alcyone’s frail body shook with sobs, and Visola held her, realizing that her daughter weighed barely ninety pounds. She was greatly weakened from her time spent on land, and even more weakened by the loneliness of the psychiatric facility she had lived in.

  “I can’t… I just can’t,” Alcyone was whispering. “I need to lie down.”

  “Sure, sweetie, let’s get you to bed,” Visola said, kissing her daughter’s wrinkled forehead, which was covered with wisps of thin grey hair. “I’ll be right back, Zuri.” She looked pointedly at the guards. “Watch over the princess.”

  When Visola had taken Alcyone out of the room, carefully supporting her mother around the shoulders, only Aazuria remained with Naclana and the other guards. She had not moved from the spot where she had stood as rigid as a statue since she had learned that her sister had been killed. Murdered and mutilated. Her hands holding Corallyn’s small arm were stiff—it was as though she herself were being infected with empathetic rigor mortis.

  “Princess Aazuria,” Naclana said softly. “I’m so sorry about your sister.”

  Her cousin’s voice drew her out of her trance, and she stared at him, disbelieving. She was suddenly startled by the fact that everyone had left the room. Where was Trevain? Where was Elandria? It seemed like the whole world was tinted in dark purple. Was she still standing? She was not aware of her feet. How had her body remained upright? Why were her cheeks dry? Had she not been crying? She vaguely remembered Elandria collapsing. She remembered Alcyone crying. None of the emotions had been hers. None of the reactions had been hers.

  She felt nothing. She squeezed on Corallyn’s ashen flesh, trying to convince herself that it was real. This was really happening. She tried to feel pain or hurt—that would be the normal thing.

  “Princess Aazuria?” Naclana asked, with worry in his voice. He was disturbed by her silent stillness. His voice pierced into her consciousness again.

  “Damn you!” Aazuria whispered sharply to her cousin, lifting her eyes to meet his. She tried to force fake emotion into her voice. “Are you out of your mind? Elandria just had heart surgery!” She reached out and carefully returned Corallyn’s severed arm to the case. Aazuria wondered why she was not even sad; she was just hollow. She could not blame the messenger for this. “I am sorry, Naclana. I just wish you had not allowed Elandria to know!”

  “With all due respect and more, Princess,” Naclana said, bowing deeply in apology. “News like this would have made Elandria swoon whether or not she was at full health.” It was no secret in Adlivun that the bond between Corallyn and Elandria had been as deep as between the closest of mother and daughter. From the time that Corallyn had been brought to them by their father, King Kyrosed Vellamo, Elandria had taken care of the young girl as though she was her own child.

  “Are you calling my sister weak?” Aazuria asked harshly. “I know she is not your blood relation, but that gives you no right to…”

  “That isn’t fair!” Naclana said with a frown. “She demanded to be present, and you permitted it.”

  “I did not know you wished to show me body parts!” Aazuria said. “You can be firm when it suits you, Naclana. You should have been firm here. If I lose my other sister too, I will consider it your fault.”

  He bowed deeply in respect, apology, and acceptance of this judgment. “Do you want to know all the words which were carved into Corallyn’s skin?”

  “Of course,” Aazuria said. “Let us wait for the others to return.” Her eyes fell onto the female guard who had been the one to actually break the news of Corallyn’s death. She had the appearance of a fourteen-year-old, and she had probably reached her full height. It was impossible to gauge her true age. From her armor, she was evidently a moderate-ranking military official. “What is your name?” Aazuria asked her.

  “Lieutenant Namaka,” she answered, with a bow.

  Aazuria studied the woman’s dark eyes and strong features, and tried to remember where she knew her from. She had likely been a migrant from some distant settlement, probably Bimini. “Lieutenant Namaka,” Aazuria said with authority. “I will need you to maintain a close watch on Visola from now on. It was her husband who did this to my sister, and I have a hunch that she is about to do something senseless to retaliate. She is the hot-blooded type. Are you capable of guarding her closely?”

  Namaka saluted across her chest with enthusiasm. “Yes, Princess Aazuria. I always have and always will.”

  Aazuria might have wondered about the girl’s unusual gusto, and considered how teenagers were always so thrilled to be given an important task. She might have grieved that Corallyn would never get a chance to reach even Namaka’s stage of bodily development, and she might
have heard Corallyn’s voice in her head wishing, like she frequently had, that she would grow breasts sooner rather than later. All these thoughts were interrupted when she was distracted by Trevain reentering the room. She immediately turned to him, with concern about Elandria at the tip of her tongue, but he was already answering her unspoken question.

  “She’s in a healing pod and the doctors are looking after her,” he said, as he approached her. “She should be fine.”

  “Thank you,” Aazuria told him with relief. “Thank you for seeing to her, Trevain.”

  “Nonsense,” he said. “Elandria took care of me when I was ill.”

  “She always takes care of everyone,” Aazuria said. She turned back to gaze at the limb in the box.

  “Rocket launchers,” Visola said as she entered the room. The echoing of her heavy footsteps made it sound like a giantess was approaching. She gritted her teeth together, as a growl was emitted from deep in her throat. “I am going to kill them all. With rocket launchers.”

  “We do not possess rocket launchers,” Aazuria said.

  “O, ye of little faith!” Visola responded. She placed her hands on her hips, and turned to Trevain with a raised red eyebrow. Although her voice carried a somewhat light tone, there was a new, predatory and almost reptilian hue glinting in her green eyes. “After all this time, she still doubts me and my capacity for vengeance.”

  “What are we going to do, Grandma?” Trevain asked quietly.

  “We’re going to give Vachlan exactly what he wants,” Visola answered. “He must have known somehow that we had decided to attack him instead of exchanging me for Corallyn. That means he has eyes and ears on the inside. A mole. It’s either someone extremely new to Adlivun who is masquerading as one of us, or an old ally of his from back when he lived here. I need to find this person.”

  “Before you decide what you plan on doing, you need to know the message…”

  “Probably more threats and bravado,” Visola said angrily.