by J D Abbas
A black wave of energy thrust outward in a circle, rippling through air and ground. Men and Ilqazar screamed as they were tossed about like tiny ships riding hurricane waves. The farm buildings rose and flattened as they smacked the ground.
Silvandir covered his head. Ears ringing, he peeked out from beneath his arms, waiting for debris to stop falling. When it was safe, he scrambled to his feet and hurried toward what remained of the shed, followed by the others. He dug through the rubble searching for Nakar. “How many others were with him?” he called to Tobil.
“Three.” Tobil grabbed planks and tossed them aside.
“Here’s one,” yelled Shatur, pointing at a leg beneath some wood. Silvandir joined him, and they uncovered Ludmir, bloody but alive.
“She exploded,” Ludmir said, his eyes wide beneath a gashed brow. “Nakar’s sword struck her and...and there was this loud noise and black smoke and power. So much power. It tossed us through the air like we were rag dolls.”
More men arrived to help. Within a short time, they had recovered all four men. Nakar didn’t survive. They also found the uncle’s dead body, but nothing remained of the grandmother.
Silvandir studied the wreckage. All of the buildings, fences, even the trees on the property had been leveled.
“What in the world was that creature?”
~
Elena spent the day resting, drifting in and out of sleep. Once, midday, she woke with a start from a dream about an earthquake and a black cloud that rose up from the rubble and wrapped itself around her, threatening to suffocate her. She wondered if she’d cried out because Celdorn was watching her with concern when she opened her eyes. Embarrassed and not wanting to explain, she immediately pretended to go back to sleep, willing her heart to slow.
Chapter 31
Celdorn asked the question foremost in his mind. “Did you find Domar?”
The men had returned the next day, mid-morning, and had come immediately to Celdorn’s chambers, knowing he’d be anxious for news. While they gathered around the table, Celdorn wasted no time with small talk. His men looked haggard and overwrought. The sooner the reporting was done, the sooner they could rest.
“No, we thoroughly searched around Rhamal and in Neldon to no avail,” Haldor replied. “And the prisoners gave us no information about him.”
“So, perhaps he did die at the encampment.”
Celdorn heard a gasp and turned to see Elena clutching Sasha’s neck, her face as void of color as Elbrion’s hair. “Are you all right, little one?”
She didn’t respond.
Celdorn squatted next to her chair and laid his hand on her arm, which felt like an icicle.
“He’s alive,” she whispered, her stare lifeless. “I can feel him. He’s searching for me. And he’ll never give up until...until I’m back in his bed.” Her tone was flat, haunting, as if her words came from some distant place and spoke through her emptied frame. Sasha whined and licked Elena’s chin.
A chill draft suddenly swept through the chamber. The lanterns flickered, casting odd shadows across the surface of the table, then dimmed.
The hair on Celdorn’s neck stood on end.
With a groan, Mikaelin left the room.
Elbrion began to chant, softly at first, then, seeing no change in Elena, he increased the volume. Haldor joined him. The tones rose and entwined, creating a mesmerizing harmony. The light strengthened in both of them and in the room itself.
Elena’s vision gradually cleared. As the melody reached into her soul, she wept with an intensity that clutched at Celdorn’s heart, pulling matching tears from his eyes.
Suddenly, she sat up straight and gawked at her hands, which were glowing. Her eyes widened in fear, halting her tears. And, just as quickly as the light started, it stopped. She glanced at the others and shoved her hands under Sasha’s head.
Elbrion watched her, unspoken questions in his eyes. Haldor’s face held an enigmatic smile, and he nodded serenely. No one else seemed to have noticed.
Celdorn rubbed his neck, trying to shake off the odd tingling, and decided to continue with the reports. Moments later, Mikaelin slunk back in and slipped into his seat; Celdorn returned to his own. “Did you find any other information in Rhamal?” he asked Haldor.
“The brothers returned yesterday morning with the youngest in tow. They wanted him to give an accounting for himself. He was not the same man we met the previous day. Not just in demeanor—he physically was not the same person.”
“What?” Celdorn exclaimed.
“This man, identified by his brothers as the youngest, Braqor, was larger than the man we saw the day before. He was timid and polite.”
“Who was the other man?”
“I do not know. The brothers could not help with that, but I can say with certainty that it was not Braqor. This young man was deeply troubled by the news of Elena’s suffering. With his brothers’ encouragement, he admitted to his own maltreatment, just as they had done earlier.”
Elena’s mouth dropped open. “They…they told you that?”
“They were forthcoming,” Haldor replied, a deep tenderness in his voice.
Her chin quivered. “So he did hurt all of them?” she muttered to herself, her gaze fixed faraway.
Celdorn lay his hand on her shoulder, wishing he could protect her from all of this. “I’m stunned. How do you explain the deception?”
“The mother was the only one present who could identify the first man and obviously she had purpose in leading us to believe he was Braqor, if for no other reason, than he supported her denial. But what we discovered while in Neldon may help to explain what we saw in Rhamal.” Haldor looked at Tobil. “Perhaps you should continue from here.”
Tobil nodded but glanced at the girl before he spoke. Elena shivered, and Celdorn laid his hand on her forearm.
Tobil described the search for the grandmother’s homestead, finding only the day workers, the interrogations, the arrival of Haldor’s men, and Shatur’s confusing statements. “But when Shatur placed his hand on the girl’s shoulder, we suddenly saw her as he did. It was the grandmother.”
“How can that be?” Celdorn asked.
“Only Shatur’s eyes could see the truth. The rest of us were under some sort of spell or collective delusion. But for some reason, when he touched them, we could see the truth as well.” Tobil smiled at Shatur. “It’s a great gift to have among these deceivers. I wonder what he would’ve seen with the man who claimed to be Braqor.”
“Do you understand how they do this?” Celdorn asked Shatur.
“No. I only know I saw what the others didn’t. It was plain as day to me. I thought they had taken leave of their senses.” He laughed and winked at Silvandir.
“Once you discovered the truth, what happened?”
Tobil told of the fruitless interrogations and the defiance of the grandmother. With a sad glance at Haldor, he explained about the explosion and the death of Nakar.
Haldor’s shoulders sagged and a blast of grief erupted from him. “I am deeply sorry, Celdorn. I did not realize the danger, or I would not have left them. It was my place to have taken that blow.” His regret dripped from every word. “Once again, others suffered my fate while I walked away.” He looked up at Celdorn, his eyes filled with torment.
Celdorn rose and stood behind Haldor, gripping his shoulders. “Nor did I, my friend, or I wouldn’t have left it to you.”
Celdorn shook his head. “Every step we take in this seems to expose a new mystery and further menace.” He looked at Tobil. “The other men are all right then?”
“Yes, some broken bones and deep cuts, but they’ll mend. They told us when Nakar’s sword struck the woman, a black cloud erupted from her, enveloping everything in its path. When we searched the wreckage, her body was gone.”
“What kind of creatures have we come upon? How do we do battle with something we can’t kill?” Celdorn looked at Elbrion. “Perhaps we were too rash in dismissing what Elena told
us.”
Elbrion glanced at her and began to sing again. The girl was breathing in short gasps and hugging herself as if trying to hold herself together. “I-I dreamt this.”
“You dreamt what?” Celdorn asked.
“The explosion…” Elena spoke with a hollow voice; vacant eyes stared at the far wall. “I saw the earth crack open and a black mist rise. It wrapped around me, squeezing, laughing…” Her words faded.
With a thwack, the doors from the terrace blew open and an acrid, chill wind blew through the chambers, snuffed the lanterns and left them rattling. Sasha ran toward the vacant doorway, barking. The stench increased and permeated the chamber.
“The smell of death…” Elena whispered
Celdorn glanced around, saw several men shiver. There was a dread presence in the room. Sasha turned back toward the table, tail down, hackles up as she sniffed her way toward Elena. The girl cowered and looked as if she might leave her body or shift into the child at any moment. Celdorn moved next to her and gripped her hand. “You are safe, little one. I’m right here.”
Elbrion sang louder. His radiance filled the room and pulled light from the walls until they glowed. Celdorn waited, listening to the mesmerizing tones, until the sense of evil subsided and Elena was herself again.
“What was that?” he asked, squatting so he could see her face.
“I-I don’t know.” Her body was quivering like a newborn lamb.
He laid his hand on her head. “Are you able to continue?”
She gave a listless nod, and Sasha returned to her side, apparently convinced there was no intruder.
Celdorn sat down and studied Elena, hesitant to proceed, not wanting to overwhelm her. In the end, he decided it would be no easier at a later time and turned back to Haldor. “Did you learn anything from the other prisoners?”
“At first they would tell us nothing of Anakh.” Haldor glanced at Elena. “They were terrified at the very mention of her name and seemed astounded we knew it. They told us she has great power, and they feared her more than they feared our blades. One of them said that were they to cross her, she would follow them into the place of the dead and torment them perpetually. We, on the other hand, could only kill their bodies.”
Celdorn shook his head. “Strong is her power to manipulate and deep are her roots of deception.”
“One prisoner told us these activities are rampant in Penumbra and that there is another training camp, larger than the one we raided, somewhere to the east.”
“Larger?” Celdorn wanted to hit something. “Did they name any others with powers like hers? Anakh can’t rule alone.”
“Through the use of carefully inflicted pain, we were finally able to extract more information,” Silvandir interjected, flexing his fists; his huge frame throbbed with controlled rage.
What was happening to his men? Celdorn had watched Silvandir’s wrath build, emotions flare. The two of them needed to have a discussion.
Silvandir continued. “Anakh has five eidola: all human, all male, of diverse race, located in different regions of Qabara. It seems she’s able to take on human form long enough to use these men as her sexual partners. In their twisted encounters, she absorbs their humanity, along with their seed, and leaves them with greater powers in the manipulation of the Zhekhum. The longer they’re with her, the more they share her shadowy form.”
“And the location of the five eidola?”
“It seems we weren’t skilled enough in the implementation of pain to elicit that information. There was some allusion to our outposts, but the men collapsed before we could discover more.” He paused, his face grim. “We could endure it no longer. We relieved them of their agony.” Silvandir gazed at the far wall, his jaw locked and twitching.
The room was quiet as a tomb. None of them was comfortable using torture—which is what it was, though no one named it. It went against everything they believed in. Their desire to protect the children and end this perversity was the only way they could justify it.
Elena stared at Silvandir with a mixture of hurt and horror, as if he had somehow betrayed her. A sudden, intense fear exploded from her and slammed into Celdorn’s chest just before she diminished. The smaller girl curled into herself and hid behind Sasha, still as a stone. Scattered exclamations broke out around the table. Whether from the jolt of the girl’s emotion or the shock of seeing her transformation, Celdorn didn’t know, but when he held up his hand, the men quieted.
What in the world were they going to do with this child? He hated that she was being hurt, that he couldn’t protect her, hated feeling so helpless.
“We’ll dismiss for now,” he told the others. “I’m waiting to hear from Dalgo on the condition of the children from the encampment. We’ll meet again after his report arrives. Take some time to rest.”
The Guardians rose and moved to their separate quarters with little conversation. Silvandir stopped to lay his hand tenderly on Elena’s petite head, a distressed sadness on his face. The child cowered away from his touch, drawing tears from Silvandir’s eyes. He pulled his hand back and left.
Mikaelin surprised Celdorn when he moved closer. “Is there anything I can do?”
Celdorn shook his head. “I don’t think there’s much any of us can do at this point.” He studied Mikaelin, noting the dark circles that sagged under his eyes. “I know the dreams are troubling but try to get some sleep.”
Mikaelin frowned; his expression said that wasn’t likely.
Celdorn held his gaze. “That’s an order.”
The young man gave a stiff nod and withdrew.
Celdorn and Elbrion knelt on either side of Elena. She was about the size of the four-year-old who had first appeared in his arms in Alsimion. Celdorn stroked her near-colorless locks, while Elbrion softly chanted.
“I’m sorry you had to suffer through those reports, little one,” Celdorn whispered. “It must’ve been frightening and painful. You can rest now.”
Tiny arms stretched upward toward him, fingers opening and closing, pale blue eyes filled with tears. Celdorn immediately snatched her up in a tender embrace. The girl tucked her face under his chin and clung to him.
An ache grew in Celdorn’s chest that stole his breath, and he knew it was her longing. Surprisingly, he moved toward it rather than running away—his usual course of action.
~
Mikaelin reluctantly withdrew to the chamber he shared with Silvandir, hoping his friend would be elsewhere. It surprised him that he felt drawn to Elena in her small form. There was an odd sense of kinship with the child that was so opposite of his reaction to the young woman. He found himself not wanting to leave the girl’s side, in spite of the fact that his chest ached so badly he found it difficult to breathe. Celdorn would probably have allowed him to stay had he explained, but he couldn’t. Instead, he’d nodded and obeyed, all the while knowing any attempt at sleep would be futile.
Chapter 32
“Look at you!” A warmth spread through Silvandir’s chest as Elena appeared inside Celdorn’s door with a triumphant, albeit still crooked, smile. She stood on her own this morning, supported by her new crutches. “You’ll be racing through these halls in no time.”
“Well, I’m not so sure about that.” Elena gave a shaky laugh. “These things are trickier than they look.” Her breathing was ragged and beads of sweat glistened on her forehead by the time she’d traveled the short distance from her room. She took a few more wobbly steps toward the table, and Silvandir resisted the impulse to steady her.
He was impressed with her quiet determination. It was clear her ribs were still giving her fits. Every step she took, her torso flinched. Her face, however, showed no sign of the pain. He wondered if this was due to the detachment she’d mentioned.
Her facial bruising had turned to varying shades of blackened purples, greens and yellows, and settled most dramatically into the spaces beneath her eyes and along the jawline. The swelling had lessened enough for her to partially open b
oth eyes, though her face was still distorted.
Silvandir’s jaw tensed. It enraged him to see what those animals had done to her. How he wished he’d been with Celdorn when they’d eliminated that Farak scum.
He took a deep breath. He needed to get control of himself. This girl had certainly stirred things up around Kelach—and within him, he reluctantly admitted.
~
Elena sat down at the table, rather proud of herself. These men valued strength, and she’d shown them that. One of the serving boys set a plate before her, and she immediately deflated. It looked like food for a baby: some sort of gruel with a side of mashed fruit, nothing like what the men were eating. She was hungry and grateful for the consideration, but it made her look weak. And weak was deadly.
With a dejected sigh, she looked up and found Mikaelin watching her. His normal scowl had turned to a frown. Was he hoping she’d have been gone by now? She resisted the temptation to make a crude gesture at him. Far from secure here, she still needed to watch her step.
~
After the meal, Elena sat by the fireside finding it difficult to keep warm. Celdorn and Elbrion joined her, one on each side. Sasha quickly inserted herself between Celdorn and Elena’s chairs so she could be petted from both sides. Celdorn glanced at Bria’s empty bed, and a frown pulled at his lips. Swallowing hard, Elena pushed Sasha toward Celdorn before looking away.
She rubbed at the ache in the center of her chest and sighed. “I feel as if I’m just waking from a dream. The last few days are all a blur. How long have I been here now?”
“Today’s the fifth day,” Celdorn said, “though it seems so much longer.”
“Have I been that much of a nuisance?”
Celdorn’s frown deepened. “No, little one. I meant only that it seems like we’ve known you far longer. A great deal has happened in a short time.”
