“Stop that.” She swung her fist, connected with his arm. She followed it higher until she felt his ear; then she cuffed him, as hard as she could.
He swore and grabbed her wrist again. “I never expected Arman’s prophetess to be an ungrateful wench.”
She tensed at his sharp tone. “Leave me be.”
“You? You lay around all day. I am the one who is tired. Tired of serving you like a slave with no form of payment. You owe me much, so you can give yourself to me or I can give you to the entire camp. What will it be?”
She longed for Sir Kalenek to arrive and whisk her away to safety, but he would not come today. And for reasons she did not understand, she must pass through this shadow.
Shelter me, Holy One. Let me not be afraid. My enemy attacks, but you are my redeemer. You make beauty from terror, joy from pain, laughter from tears. Focus my mind on the good you promised that such hope might carry me though this darkness.
“WHEN YOU PASS THROUGH DEEP WATERS, I WILL BE WITH YOU; YOUR TROUBLES WILL NOT OVERWHELM YOU.”
Arman’s warmth reminded her that her God was with her. He saw her fear. She was not alone.
She felt Master Burk’s hot breath on her face and grimaced. His lips touched hers. She cried out, slapped his head, and kicked her feet. He crushed his mouth over hers. The stubble on his face was sharp and needled her, scratched like sandpaper as he dragged his cheek along hers and again kissed her neck.
“Stop.” She tried to scoot back. “Don’t do this.”
But he did not listen. Hands snaked around her waist and pulled her body against his. He twisted her in his arms and suddenly she fell. Her back hit the straw mat and his weight landed on top of her, pinning her down.
She screamed and pushed at his chest, trying to keep him back, to put obstacles between them. Her memory returned to the last time men had attacked her. She had somehow stopped the one called Aloz. She had been desperate. She had pushed him away with her mind.
Onika focused on Master Burk’s thoughts, felt his presence there, his dark intentions. She shoved with all the strength of her voicing magic.
They flew.
Off the mat and up through the canvas ceiling. Onika stopped struggling and gasped, awed by the sights around her.
She could see.
They were sailing through a dusky sky, over the tops of trees capped in white. She released her attacker and willed her motion to stop. Watched as Master Burk floated away, arms and legs pinwheeling. His head whipped around until his wild eyes met hers.
“You are a witch!” he yelled across the distance. “Is this what you did to Aloz?”
No.
Perhaps.
Onika didn’t know. If she had pushed Aloz to this place, she had not come with him. Not like she had with Master Burk.
She could no longer see him. Where had he gone? What was this place? Had the both of them died? Onika couldn’t have. There was to be more to her life, she had seen it, shadowed though it was.
She took a moment to marvel at the land around her. So much beauty! It had been far too long since she’d lost her sight. Snow covered everything, like a sheet of thick cotton. A vast stretch of flat land separated a lake or pond from a forest where trees coated in layers of snow bobbed and swayed in the wind, sending flurries of white dust from their branches. The sky above was a riot of purpled clouds against a fiercely orange sky.
Sunset. She’d never thought she’d see one again.
She let herself float along, taking in the stunning prospect until the sun set fully and darkness fell over the land.
What now?
Arman, what has happened? I do not understand.
“WHEN JUSTICE IS DONE, IT IS A JOY TO THE RIGHTEOUS BUT TERROR TO EVILDOERS.”
Yes, she did feel joy. And Master Burk, wherever he’d gone, must surely be terrified.
Something moved up ahead. Onika flew toward it, cautiously. She did not know if Master Burk could harm her in this place, but until she was certain, she would take care.
It was not Master Burk. It was not human at all. It looked very much like a mouse—a large mouse—yet it was yellowish green and transparent, as if it was made of fog. She followed it at a distance, curious.
As she neared, she saw dozens of the strange creatures in many different shapes, sizes, and colors. Some flew fast, painting the air in rainbows of color. Others remained still, alone or in small groups, talking to one another. Nearest her she regarded a two-headed orange-and-black snake having a conversation with some kind of silver fish with a face like a man.
A cackle. “Look! A deader lost.”
The voice brought with it a chill and a sense of foreboding. Onika turned toward a red rabbit with tail feathers like a rooster.
“What you doing here, girlie?” the rabbit asked. “Can’t you tell which way to go?”
“Feels like a pure to me,” said what looked like a bushel of dead grass, yellowed and wilted. “Best keep your distance.”
“She looks scared,” said one head of the two-headed snake as the second head hissed.
Onika floated backward, wanting to get away from these strange creatures, but a group of them surged forward, taunting and cackling. Some floated around her, bringing with them a frigid breeze. One flew right through her.
She shrieked and glided away, but the creatures gave chase.
“IN MY NAME YOU HAVE THE POWER TO BANISH SHADIR. SPEAK WITH AUTHORITY AND THEY WILL FLEE FROM YOU.”
The heat of Arman’s voice felt warmer here—like heat from a fire, as if he were nearby. Peace filled Onika, and she found it suddenly easy to ignore the creatures.
Shadir. She should have known. And Arman said she could send them away.
She turned back to face her pursuers. “You who torment me, in the name of Arman, I command you be gone to the depths from which you came and never return to this land again. Now go!”
A chorus of screams pierced the air. Onika clapped her hands over her ears as the group of shadir fell toward the earth like drops of rain. The shadir who hadn’t taken part in taunting her scattered to the wind. Curious, she flew after those she had banished, but just as she reached the ground, they passed into the earth and were gone.
She stopped above the thick snow and sent up a prayer. Praise you, Arman, for you are mighty and powerful. Thank you for saving me. She closed her eyes, then, eager to feel his presence the way she was used to—without the distraction of sight.
She grew warmer, joyful. A tingling pressure in her chest made her sing a song of praise. How mighty was the One who made everything, the One who spoke into being all that had been void. Holy and glorious and merciful and kind was he!
A sweet nectar filled her lungs, and she opened her eyes to see what smelled so lovely. She found herself in a new place. A place without snow. Inside a leafy green forest of trees so tall they stretched out of sight overhead. Bright light shone just outside the forest, as if a fire were burning the whole land. Drawn by the warmth, she drifted toward the light, eagerly longing to see the glow for herself. She passed out of the forest and over a vast meadow carpeted in mossy green grass and flowers of every color. Oddly, the sweet nectar on the air did not come from them. It smelled of hope and laughter and endless joy. She followed it, and the light turned out to be not a fire at all but a gate.
Onika’s heart longed to go inside, to enter into the joy of such a place. She started toward it but found she could not move.
“THIS IS NOT YET FOR YOU, MY CHILD. YOUR DAYS ARE DETERMINED WITH LIMITS YOU CANNOT EXCEED, BUT YOUR SOUL IS NOT REQUIRED OF YOU THIS DAY. GO BACK AND DO THE WORK I HAVE SET OUT FOR YOU.”
The heat of Arman’s voice dizzied Onika. A high-pitched whistle drew her gaze. A great speckled brown bird was soaring toward her, bringing with it a great calm that pushed away every concern. It flew past, and somehow Onika knew to follow. The bird led her away from the glowing gates, soared over the meadow and back into the forest. The occasional flap of its massive wings brought
a warm gust of wind over her face, and she eagerly anticipated the next.
The bird moved quickly, and within moments, they were descending into the darkness of night toward a snow-covered land and the torchlights of a camp set up outside a castle.
New Rurekau?
The great bird dove toward a tent near the center of camp and flew right through the roof. Onika followed, wincing slightly as she passed through the canvas. Shockingly, she felt nothing, not even a tug. She stopped inside, searched for the bird—Nesher, for it had to have been Nesher—but the bird was gone.
Her gaze fell to the bed on the floor, where a man lay on top of a woman. Both looked dead. Onika drew close and studied herself. How pale she looked against Master Burk’s dark skin. No wonder everyone thought her so odd.
What should she do? If she was to remain in Er’Rets, she would need her body, wouldn’t she?
The thought transported her, and instantly the world blurred into a kaleidoscope of shifting dots. Her heart sank. She was back in her body, blind again, with Master Burk’s weight pressing down. Oddly, she felt him breathing still. So he was alive, but could the part of him that was still drifting find his way back?
Onika pushed Burk’s body to the side until he rolled off. She sat up, heart pounding in her chest. What now? How could she escape when she could not see?
Arman? What would you have me do?
“PUT YOUR HOPE IN ME.”
Onika relished Arman’s warmth, which was not as hot in this realm as it had been in the Veil. She knew now that was where she had gone.
“Prophetess?” a man called.
She jumped. “Yes?”
“Is Master Burk in there?”
“I think so. I can hear him breathing, though he has not spoken in quite some time.”
Canvas rustled and footsteps sounded as the man came inside. “Woman . . . What did you do?”
“Is something wrong?”
The man growled. “I’m not carrying him out of here myself. I’ll be back with help, but just you leave us alone, you hear?”
“You are safe in my presence,” Onika said, then added, “for now.”
The man breathed out a shudder as he stalked away mumbling about witches and goddesses. He promised an offering to Cetheria if she would protect him.
Onika smiled.
For the first time in a long time, she was not afraid. Arman had given her a way to protect herself from evil men and to destroy the enemy’s minions. In fact, if she could leave her body again, perhaps she could study the camp and discover something important to pass on to Rosâr Trevn. Finally, she was taking a step toward the future she had seen so long ago. She had no ideas as to what Arman wanted her to do at present, but until he made that clear, she would make good use of her time here and her new gift by spying for Rosâr Trevn. She concentrated, and as she left her body again, everything came back into focus.
About the Author
Jill Williamson writes fantasy and science fiction for teens and adults. Jill grew up in Alaska, staying up and reading by the summer daylight that wouldn’t go away. This led to a love of books and writing, and her debut novel, By Darkness Hid, won several awards and was named a Best Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror novel of 2009 by VOYA magazine. She loves giving writing workshops and blogs for teen writers at www.GoTeenWriters.com which has been named as one of Writer’s Digest’s “101 Best Websites for Writers.” She lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband, two children, and a whole lot of deer. Visit her online at www.jillwilliamson.com.
THE KINSMAN CHRONICLES
Darkness Reigns
The Heir War
The End of All Things
Kingdom at Sea
Maelstrom
Voices of Blood
The Reluctant King
A Deliverer Comes
Warriors of the Veil
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