by Callie Kanno
He only shook his head. Signe had suggested more extreme measures to tie Adesina to himself, and he had begun his assignment with no qualms. He had been immediately struck by her exotic beauty, and admitted to himself that he had looked forward to following the orders given to him.
However, as their relationship grew and Kendan fell in love with her, he began to have misgivings. Deep down he knew that everything between them had been built upon lies. He had determined to start fresh, making her truly his this time.
Then she had disappeared.
Kendan had scoured the lands looking for her, pulling together all of his resources and devoting all of his energy to it. He had only discovered her whereabouts when Basha had contacted him, also informing him that she had turned against the order.
He hadn’t believed it at first, knowing the depth of Adesina’s loyalty. Regardless, Kendan assured himself that it didn’t matter. He had intended to convince her to run away with him. With their skills combined, no one would have ever been able to find them.
Kendan had not even gotten the chance to really talk to Adesina, thanks to Basha’s interference. Instead, he had been forced to say the words that were expected of him, rather than the ones in his heart.
He had seen the heartbreak in her eyes, and he knew she would never forgive him for what he had done.
While all this was going through Kendan’s mind, Signe grew tired of his silent musings. She moved away from him, gesturing impatiently. “Did you at least discover their intended destination?”
He ducked his head in shame. “No, Sharifal.”
She sat at her makeshift desk, surveying him in contempt. “I am surprised you found the courage to return to my presence in such disgrace.”
Kendan kept his eyes on the ground, not wanting her to see how little he cared right now. He heard her irritated sigh and the shuffling of parchment.
“I shall send a team to track them. In the meantime, our plan goes forward as before.”
He nodded, even though his stomach clenched in anxiety.
The Sharifal turned her attention away from her nephew. “You are dismissed.”
Kendan felt the weight of sorrow on his shoulders, but bowed obediently. He then turned and walked out of the Sharifal’s tent.
Chapter Thirty-nine: Prisoners
Me’shan laid on his back on the cold stone floor of his cell, gasping for breath. The new pains inflicted on him from the guards overrode all of the old wounds that had never healed. Tears streamed out of the corners of his eyes and he whispered L’avan prayers, searching for some source of relief.
When the sound of footsteps reached his ear, he could not find the willpower to react. He closed his eyes and simply laid there, hoping that death would come to him soon.
Looking through the slits of his eyes, he could see the door opened and four guards entered the room, followed by a gray haired man who occasionally questioned Me’shan. He glanced over at the huddled form of the L’avan and nodded to one of his bodyguards. The man walked over and nudged Me’shan with his foot.
Me’shan remained still, praying that they would leave him alone.
“The guards gave him a pretty severe beating, sir. He is probably unconscious.”
“But is he alive?” he asked sharply.
Fingers were pressed to the pulse in Me’shan’s neck. “Yes, he is alive.”
The gray haired man waved a hand carelessly. “Then leave him.”
The guard walked away and returned to his place at the man’s side. He turned his icy gaze to Me’shan’s fellow prisoner.
“Well, what have you to say?”
Faryl cringed away from the man speaking to her. “Please, Breyen! I did not betray the order, I just wanted a life of my own.”
Breyen drew his hand back and struck her with all of his strength. “You would not have a life at all if it were not for me!”
She shook her head, staring at the ground. “That does not mean that I belong to you.”
He crossed his arms. “What the Shimat give, the Shimat can take away.”
Breyen nodded to his guards and two of them moved toward the prisoner. One of them held her up while the other beat her again and again.
Me’shan shed a tear for every cry that sounded from her frail throat. He wanted to get to his feet and fight them, but he had no strength left.
The guards only stopped when Breyen held up a hand. They dropped Faryl, and she stayed still, weeping brokenly.
“I want you to tell me everything. How you escaped, how you evaded us for so long, who you talked to, what you learned. Everything.”
When Faryl didn’t respond, he leaned forward, lowering his voice to a deadly whisper. “When an experiment fails, the Shimat cut their losses. I can erase you with as much pleasure as I brought you into being.”
She still didn’t respond, and he straightened slowly. “I will give you until tomorrow to think about it.”
With that, Breyen walked out of the cell, motioning for his bodyguards to follow. The door slammed shut and echoed throughout the dungeon. The light and footsteps faded away, leaving Me’shan to ponder what he had heard.
Gathering all of his strength, he crawled over to where she lay sobbing and placed a empathetic hand on her shoulder. “Do you know any songs?”
Her reflexes jerked away from his touch, but she calmed when she remembered that she was not alone in her prison. “I thought you were unconscious.”
He smiled to the darkness. “I thought it best to act as if I were.”
Faryl’s voice trembled. “So, you heard everything.”
“Yes.”
“I am not one of them,” she insisted quietly. “I cannot help how I was born.”
“Do you know any songs?” he asked again. “Happy ones.”
She paused in confusion at his question. “I used to.”
Me’shan reached over and took her hand. “Sing them. It will help with the pain.”
He felt her shaking her head. “I do not think I could sing right now.”
He nodded in understanding, but encouraged her anyway. “It does not have to be loud or beautiful. You do not even have to vocalize the music. Listen to it in your mind, and it will comfort you.”
Faryl sighed heavily. “I cannot hear it.”
Me’shan started humming quietly, and then turned the wordless tune into a song he had learned as a child. He was exhausted and his voice was hoarse, but he let the music flow out of his soul to comfort his companion.
Dawn
Like a long awaited breath of air
It fills me with life and light
Dawn
Like the warmth of a fire in winter
It revives my body and soul
Dawn
The hope of each child of earth
Dispelling the darkness from the world
Dawn
The beginning of a brand new day
It opens my path to all possibilities
She continued to cry quietly, but remarked, “You have a lovely voice. Thank you for sharing it with me.”
He replied distractedly. “My wife used to sing that song to our son when he was young.”
Faryl moved into a sitting position. “How old is your son now?”
“Twenty-two.”
“You must miss him very much,” she said softly.
“Yes,” was the pained response, “I miss my son…and my daughter.”
“How old is your daughter?” asked Faryl, grateful for the distraction from her present situation.
Me’shan had spent much time thinking about his daughter since E’rian’s disappearance, and even more since his capture. The answer came readily.
“She must be seventeen by now.”
Her voice became even more quiet. “What is her name?”
He fought back the tears that came with the knowledge that he didn’t really know. He gave the name that E’rian had picked for her. “Ma’eve.”
Faryl could hear the l
ove in his voice when he spoke her name. She wrapped her arms around herself tightly. “You must love her very much.”
Me’shan nodded, but said nothing.
She continued without any encouragement. “Fathers should love their daughters. That is how things were meant to be.”
He frowned at this statement, perplexed by the tone in which it was spoken.
“That is how it should be,” she repeated. “Even if…”
The silence was filled with tension. Me’shan raised himself up on one elbow. “Even if what?” he urged her gently.
Her voice was barely a whisper. “Even if it was nothing but an experiment.”
Understanding washed over his mind. “That man was your father?”
“If you think it right to attach such a title to that man,” she said flatly.
Me’shan’s heart filled with pity when he thought of the kind of childhood she had endured.
“I am so sorry, Faryl.”
She shook her head. “It does not matter anyway. I will not give him the information he wants, and he will kill me for that.”
He stared into the darkness intently. “What information does he want?”
“I doubt you would understand,” she said dismissively.
A smile touched his lips. “Try me.”
After a thoughtful pause, she shrugged. “Well, I suppose it does not matter whether you know or not. He wants to know if I contacted the L’avan.”
A chill ran down Me’shan’s spine. “What?”
Her voice was colored by an ironic smile. “I knew you would not understand.”
“Did you contact them?”
She sighed. “I attempted to several times, but I was not successful. Every time I came close, something happened to prevent me from proceeding.”
He sat up slowly. “Perhaps I understand the situation better than you imagine.”
“Oh?”
He hesitated, wondering if he was making the right decision. “Faryl, I was not honest with you. My name is not Trayse, it is Me’shan.” he paused again. “I am L’avan.”
Several moments of silence followed this declaration. Then, Faryl began to laugh bitterly. “I should have guessed that they put a spy in this cell with me.”
He shook his head. “I am not a spy.”
She did not believe him. “If you were a L’avan, you would not be in this dungeon. You would be in the one on the level above us.”
Another shudder ran through Me’shan’s body. “There are others? You know that for sure?”
The shock in his voice gave Faryl pause. “You must have known that.”
A feeling of dread weighed down his chest. “We suspected it, but it could never be confirmed.”
Truth rang in each of his words, and she found herself beginning to believe him. “Prove it.”
He was startled by this abrupt command. “What?”
“Prove that you are a L’avan.”
Me’shan shook his head sadly. “I do not know if I have the strength.”
Faryl folded her arms stubbornly. “Very well. I will just assume that you are a spy.”
He debated on whether or not to even try. “If I prove it to you, will you tell me everything you know about the captured L’avan?”
“Yes,” she agreed eagerly.
With a weary sigh, he got to his feet. “Stand up.”
She did so immediately, and with much more energy than what he had.
Me’shan put his arms around her waist and said, “Hold on to my shoulders.”
He reached down deep inside of himself, searching for his vyala. It had lain dormant for so long, hidden from his captors, that it took some effort to rouse it.
It eventually flared to life, lighting his vision to details of the black pit in which they were imprisoned. Everything took on a light blue tint, and he felt Faryl start at the sight of his glowing eyes.
Me’shan focused on his own body, imagining that it was lighter than air. His vyala responded to this desire, and he felt himself being lifted off of the ground. He held tightly onto Faryl, taking her into the air with him.
She gasped in amazement. “What is happening?”
They only hovered for a minute or so before Me’shan returned them to the ground. Even so, he was exhausted by the effort.
“You really are a magic user,” she said in a voice mixed with awe and fear.
He nodded to the darkness, laying back down on the icy cold stone. “Yes.”
“I wish I could have seen how you did that. Perhaps then I could learn-” she cut herself off abruptly.
Her companion didn’t seem to notice the change. He simply replied, “Knowing the method does not do any good unless you are L’avan. Our gifts are passed through the blood of our race.”
Faryl herself was debating on what to say. She finally settled with, “I know.”
This time he caught the tone. “What are you talking about?”
She hugged her knees to herself, rocking slightly, back and forth. “The Shimat have been conducting experiments on L’avan for many years, and they know much about the science of your gifts. The main hindrance to their research is that they only know the science, and that does not seem to be enough.”
“What has your science taught you?” he asked cautiously.
She fixed her eyes on her clasped hands. “We know that it is an hereditary trait, and that it is passed through the females.”
Me’shan frowned. “How do you know that?”
Faryl’s voice became subdued. “Because of what has been found with the half-L’avan children.”
“What?” he demanded in shock.
“The children who were born of a L’avan mother had hints of the gifts given to your race, but the children who had a L’avan father showed nothing.”
“No L’avan would ever agree-” he began, but she cut him off.
“They had no choice in the matter. The Shimat are willing to do whatever it takes to get what they want.”
Me’shan felt sick to his stomach. “How long has this been going on? How many are there?”
Faryl became preoccupied with a piece of straw that clung to her ragged clothing. She spoke quietly and quickly, as if speed would ease the pain of the statement. “There are only a few of us now. I was the first.”
He stared in her direction, wishing he could see her face. “You?”
“The experiment ended abruptly about seventeen years ago. I was never told why, only that they had a better experiment to begin.”
Me’shan had a sneaking suspicion of what that experiment was. His mind ran over a hundred horrible possibilities, and he wondered fearfully what they had done to his daughter.
“That is when I escaped,” she continued, “and I took a few of their precious experiments with me!”
He was almost afraid to ask. “What did you take?”
She shook her head. “Just some of the work they had done with L’avan blood.”
He shuddered at the casual way in which she said it. “Such as?”
“Well, most of it was faulty, but the loss of the prototypes probably set their research back several years. I did steal a very powerful salve made with the blood of one of your healing L’avan. It was the first successful result that all their work had seen, and it was the only container.”
All of this was said with a resentful sort of pride. She enjoyed hurting the Shimat order, even if it could not compare with how they had hurt her.
Me’shan was a flurry of emotions. He honestly didn’t know of which he felt most: pity for the bitter woman beside him, disgust and hatred for the Shimat, or fear for his daughter. His mind was dizzy with the conflict, and tears ran out of his eyes when he remembered how powerless he was to help anyone.
“I suppose the Shimat have all of their experiments back now, and their work can go forward.”
Faryl gave a short, unamused laugh. “Oh, I am sure that the work went forward, regardless of what I stole. Still, they do not have what
I took with me. I destroyed most of it, but I gave the salve to a young L’avan woman in one of my attempts to contact the race. I was hoping she would recognize how important it was and take it to one of your leaders.”
“Did she?”
“I do not know,” she said in a voice heavy with defeat.
Me’shan strained to sit up and took her hand. “Faryl, you must tell me everything you know about the Shimat and their experiments. Perhaps we can find a way to put a stop to all of it.”
Although he couldn’t see it, a tear ran down her face and she nodded.
Chapter Forty: The Ravine
Adesina awoke long before the others. She carefully climbed out of her bedding and moved away from the camp. Sa’jan, who was keeping watch, nodded to her as she walked past, but said nothing.
She stood at the edge of the trees, gazing across the open grassland before her. The first traces of light could be seen on the horizon, but the sky was still dusted with stars.
Ravi appeared at her side and sat down, looking up at the twinkling heavens. They were silent for several minutes, listening to the dark and enjoying one another’s company. The peace couldn’t last, and Adesina found herself seeking her guardian’s counsel.
“Should we turn back, Ravi?”
“Turn back?” he asked in surprise. “Turn back from what?”
She smiled, even though such answers used to frustrate her. “From the mission.”
His voice became gentle. “Why would we do that, Ma’eve?”
Adesina shook her head and stared hard at the ground. “The Shimat know that I have betrayed them, and they are bound to take action. It is only a matter of time before they come after us.”
He nodded in agreement. “Yes, the risk is much greater now.”
She barely heard him, she was so caught up in the possibilities running through her mind. “Or perhaps they are setting traps for us at the fortress.”
Ravi’s tail twitched slightly. “They do not know our destination, dear one.”
That was no consolation at all. She pressed her lips together and furrowed her brow. “It does not take much imagination of figure it out. A group of L’avan traveling south, led by a former Shimat—there can be only one destination.”
