by J D Abbas
Elbrion followed and knocked. “Elena, let me in.”
“No,” a little voice yelled back.
“I am here to help, Sheya. I will not take him away.”
A pause, then the lock turned, and the door slowly opened. When he entered, the girl was sitting on the floor, rocking her brother. The uninjured baby gazed up at her as if she were his whole world.
“I saved him.” A triumphant smile lit her face. “They don’t know I took him away. I’m going to keep him here and take care of him until he’s big.” She stood and carried the baby to a crate in the corner, which had blankets in it. Singing softly, she laid the infant in the makeshift bed where he slept peacefully as if none of the horrid events had occurred.
“Sheyshon?” Elbrion said. The girl looked up. “I am so proud of you. You have been a good big sister.” She grinned at him, blue eyes dancing. “It is time for me to go back to the outside. Will you come with me?” He glanced at the crate. “Your brother is safe here.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am quite certain.”
The girl kissed the baby on the forehead then took Elbrion’s hand as they went out into the hallway. She closed the door and locked it with her key. They walked hand in hand to the end of the corridor, and Elena disappeared. Elbrion exited the way he had entered, hoping she was awaiting him on the outside and not trapped somewhere else.
~
Elena opened her eyes and gazed at Elbrion. Tears distorted his face, but she quickly blinked them away. She had a dozen questions but no voice. Celdorn was watching her with concern. How could she tell him what an awful thing she’d done? She shifted her focus to the fire and remained silent, staring at the flames and swallowing hard.
Elbrion spoke first. “Do you see now, Elena? You were not responsible for his death.”
She turned to him with surprise. “But you watched me do it. How can you say I’m not responsible?”
Elbrion knelt in front of her and took her hands in his. “He was already dead, Sheya. You did not kill him.”
“Already dead?” She searched Elbrion’s face, trying to understand.
“Did you not notice that he did not move or cry at all? And when the knife went through him, there was no blood.”
Celdorn grasped Elena’s forearm and squeezed. She saw the stricken look on his face and his attempt at an encouraging smile, but thankfully, he didn’t ask any questions.
Elena thought back through the memory. Elbrion was right: he hadn’t moved; he hadn’t cried. He felt no pain.
“They told you the blood on your hands bound you to the Zhekhum, but there was no blood. There is, therefore, no bond. Do you see?”
Elena stared at her empty hands. “What a cruel thing to do to a child,” she whispered. “Although, I didn’t remember the details, I’ve always carried the belief that I killed my baby brother. What kind of a horrible, evil child kills a baby? I hated myself.”
“And because of that belief, they were able to control you,” Elbrion said. “Though you found a way around that crushing reality by taking your brother away and sheltering him inside you, where they could not touch him. There you could take care of him and be a good sister.”
“I didn’t realize I’d done that.” Elena’s mind drifted to the room where she’d put him. “But he was never really there, was he? And he wasn’t safe or growing up. He’s been dead all this time.” She stared at the fire, the grief of that truth like a weight on her chest. “I suppose I need to let him go—let him be at peace.”
“He is already at peace, Sheyshon.” She felt Elbrion’s warm hand on her head, stroking it tenderly, and this time, she felt no urge to cringe or pull away. “It is you who needs to find peace. He died at birth or before birth. You had nothing to do with it. You no longer have to carry that burden.”
“I’m not sure I know how to let go of him.” Her chin quivered. “The thought leaves me so empty.”
Elena longed to weep, but she would wait until she was alone. She laid her hand on her chest, which twisted with pain. When she did so, she felt something solid under her shirt. She reached in and pulled out a key that hung on a cord around her neck. She looked at Elbrion, her heart thumping wildly. “How is that possible? That was just an image in my mind. How can it be here?”
Elbrion stared in wonder. “I do not know, but that is the same one.” He carefully took the key from her and turned it over in his palm, studying it, pondering. “I told you to keep it with you in case you needed it again. I had no idea it would follow you to the outside. I did not know that was possible.” He shook his head. “There are many mysteries about you, Sheyshon.”
Chapter 34
A short time later, a messenger arrived and spoke with Celdorn. Elena couldn’t hear what was said, but Celdorn’s frown pressed into a stony scowl as their discussion continued. When the messenger left, Celdorn immediately called a meeting of his inner circle.
“Dalgo has informed me that cloaked riders have been seen circling the village and watching the doqajh compound.” He paused and glanced at Elena; fear gripped her heart. “We will return to Rhamal and see if we can find out any more information about Domar’s location and put an end to these watchers that are lurking about.”
“You’re leaving again?” She couldn’t keep her traitorous chin from trembling.
“Yes, but it will be a brief journey.”
“May I go with you this time?” She knew she must look pathetic, helpless, but she didn’t care. She didn’t want to be left behind again. Sasha trotted over and plopped her head in her lap as if to remind her she wouldn’t be alone.
“I’m sorry, Elena. Kelach is the safest place for you. Apparently, Anakh, in spite of all her bluster to the contrary, isn’t able to reach you here. I don’t trust that to be the case outside these walls.” Seeing her disappointment, he added, “Braiden will stay with you as before.”
Elena hung her head and nodded. She wanted to tell him that she felt safest with him and Elbrion. She wanted to beg, but she knew it would do no good. What she wanted didn’t matter.
A coldness crept over her heart, and she felt her chin lift, her shoulders square. I don’t need you anyway. I know how to take care of myself. I always have. She found herself glaring at Celdorn, but he didn’t see. His attention was on his duties. The cold turned to ice. She shoved Sasha away.
“Shatur, we’ll take thirty men with us. See to that immediately.”
“Yes, sir.” He rose to leave, stopping to say farewell to Elena before hurrying out the door.
There was no more discussion. Celdorn stood and his men followed. Each one approached Elena to bid farewell before departing. This time, the men used what Elbrion explained was the Elrodanar tradition of bowing and touching her hand to their foreheads—except for Mikaelin. He said goodbye from six paces away, which was ten paces closer than her last interaction with him.
Silvandir lingered longer, waiting for most of the others to leave. He glanced around, hesitated, then knelt by Elena. “Keep working with those crutches. When I return, we’ll have a race,” he teased, a bright twinkle in his dark eyes. The ice around her heart cracked.
“Well, if someone will break your knee for me, I might have a fighting chance.” She tried to give him a smile. It didn’t feel successful.
Silvandir’s expression softened. “It will only be for a short time. Work on getting well.” He patted her arm.
Lifting her chin, she straightened and gave him a crooked smile. Silvandir rose and bowed formally, then lifted her hand to his forehead. He held it there longer than the others had as if he didn’t want to let go. Elena was puzzled by the sadness she felt wash over him.
“May the light drive away all shadows. Silothani.” He gave her a warm smile then abruptly turned and left.
The ice began to thaw.
Then it was time for Elbrion and Celdorn to say goodbye.
“I take you with me in my heart,” Elbrion said, kneeling beside her. “Know an
d trust that I will guard all that I have seen.” He paused and looked her directly in the eye. She believed him. “And we will return to you soon. Do not fear.” He kissed her forehead then held her close, whispering words in Elnar that brought life to her heart. Elena longed to weep, to show him what his kindness meant to her, but couldn’t. Instead, she clung to him.
“In our language it is adamar, or ada, the more familiar term used within families,” he said, answering her unspoken question. Elena pulled back, horrified that he had read her thoughts. Celdorn glanced at them sideways. Braiden bowed his head and fixed his gaze on the floor.
“There is no shame in having the longing.” Elbrion held her face gently as he spoke, and the pressure in Elena’s eyes became overwhelming. “Do not fear. My heart is in agreement.” He kissed both her cheeks and rose to leave. She felt as if all the light in the world was leaving with him.
Celdorn knelt next.
Elena put her face in her hands, hiding the tears that escaped. “I can’t,” she whispered, her chest shuddering.
“We will return in a day, or two at most, Elena.” He put his arms around her and rocked her, stroking her hair. “I know there are no words I can speak to calm your fear or lessen your pain.” Pausing, he drew a ragged breath. “I want you to know, little one, that I have already grown to care deeply for you, as if you were my own child, and as long as I have breath you will have a home with me”—he leaned back and pulled her hands from her face, lifting her chin—“if you so choose.”
The ice dissolved, spilling out of her eyes. Celdorn swallowed hard as tears slid down his own weathered cheeks. Elena reached out and touched the drops, mesmerized by them. She had never seen a man cry before coming here, and this was the second time Celdorn had shed tears on her behalf. In spite of all the warnings inside, the desperate longing in her heart reached toward this tender display.
“I choose,” she whispered, the words barely audible. “Please come back to me.”
“I will.” Celdorn cradled her face. “All will be well, little one; all will be well.” Kissing both her cheeks, he rose with a heavy sigh and left, looking back just once before closing the door.
Elena stared at it, unmoving. The familiar ache of emptiness throbbed in her chest as more tears found release. Sasha slunk back and slipped her muzzle onto Elena’s thigh, hesitantly, shyly. Elena stroked her silky fur. “Sorry, girl,” she whispered.
This time, Braiden stood beside her as the pain enveloped her. He quietly reached down and gripped her hand. “Th-they are men of their w-word. Th-they will return,” he assured her, squeezing her hand. Though she didn’t speak, or move, or even blink, her fingers tightened around his and returned the squeeze.
Chapter 35
Mikaelin sat rigid on his stallion in the shadows of an archway, studying the children scattered around. This was the first he’d seen of those from the encampment, and the hairs on his neck stiffened while his chest constricted. He suppressed a shudder.
By the time the Guardians had reached the doqajh, it was early evening. They found the children inside a large, protected courtyard at the center of the elaborate compound. From here, various archways led to the main sanctuary, a smaller chapel, and several buildings used as living quarters for the Barqheli, or Little Brothers of the Light, as they were known. Beyond their quarters were a cookhouse, storerooms, a henhouse and stables.
Chickens squawked and donkeys brayed, drowning the muted sounds of the children.
Celdorn had sent men to secure a perimeter and others to find out more about the watchers before he set off in search of Yadar Toreno.
Mikaelin and Elbrion remained in the courtyard. Elbrion dismounted and moved among the children, most of whom had Guardians beside them. Some of the Rogaran allowed the boys and girls to sit on their Ilqazar as they walked them around the courtyard.
Mikaelin noticed one boy, perhaps five years old, hunched down and nearly invisible in the shadows of an overhang, sucking his thumb and staring at the other children. He dismounted, walked slowly toward him, and squatted down. “What are you doing over here all by yourself?”
Huge blue eyes inspected Mikaelin from head to foot.
“My name is Mikaelin. What’s yours?” he asked in Lanar, touching the boy’s wild blond curls. A stabbing pain shot from Mikaelin’s abdomen to his scalp, like a flash of fire. He winced and yanked his hand back.
A look of wonder crossed the boy’s face as he pulled the thumb from his mouth. “Are you an angel?” His tiny voice was filled with awe.
Mikaelin gave a strained laugh. “I’m no angel.”
“I don’t hurt anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
“You touched me, and the hurt stopped. You must be an angel.”
Mikaelin didn’t know how to respond to that.
“And you glow,” the boy added matter-of-factly.
“I glow?” Mikaelin’s eyebrows went up.
“Like the light around a lantern. Why do you glow if you aren’t an angel?”
“No one’s ever told me I glowed before.”
When the boy stood and walked into the courtyard, Mikaelin noticed a large bloodstain on the seat of his pants. The small blond grabbed the hand of a dark-haired boy, who looked a few years older, and pulled him toward Mikaelin, saying, “Look, he glows like an angel.”
The second boy examined Mikaelin with a scowl.
“Do you see it?”
The brunette nodded, his expression hardened, skeptical. Mikaelin wondered what they were seeing and what in the world was happening.
The first pushed the second toward Mikaelin. “Touch him too.”
Mikaelin reached out and hesitantly laid his hand on the boy’s shoulder. The boy jumped back, and his scowl shifted to fear. Mikaelin immediately pulled his arm back, and a crushing pain gripped his side, as if someone had just kicked him in the ribs. He couldn’t catch his breath. When he tucked his arm in to support his chest, shattering pains passed through the upper and lower bones.
“Do you feel better?” the first boy asked the second.
The brunette stuck out his arm. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.” Then he pulled up his shirt and stared at a large, nasty bruise around his ribs and side, which lightened and shrunk to a small discoloration. Within seconds, the injury disappeared completely. The boy stared at Mikaelin in wonder. “I can breathe without it hurting.”
“He’s an angel,” the blond said with a confident nod.
The brunette’s eyes widened. “Are you?”
“No, I’m just a man.” Mikaelin’s voice grew taut as pain wrapped around his chest. “I don’t know what just happened, but I’m glad you’re both feeling better.”
Mikaelin noticed Elbrion watching from the far side of the courtyard. When he hunched over, Elbrion hurried toward him. “What is wrong? Are you in pain?” he asked as he crouched next to Mikaelin.
“We think he’s an angel,” the younger boy told Elbrion. “He glows like one, and he touched us and we don’t hurt anymore.”
Elbrion looked at Mikaelin.
He hugged his ribs. Each breath felt like an arrow piercing his side. “I’m at a loss to explain it. Do you see what they see?”
“I do not. But the eyes of children see many things older eyes cannot, things that are quite real.”
“But I’m not a healer. And I’m certainly no angel.”
“And yet you healed them,” Elbrion countered.
Determined to convince them, the blond grabbed Mikaelin’s hand and tugged. “Come on.”
Clutching his side with his aching arm, Mikaelin followed the boy into the shadow of another archway where a girl lay on a blanket.
“She was in the punishment room and needs your help.” He pointed at the girl. “Touch her.”
Mikaelin was reluctant now, confused by what was happening. The girl lay motionless, her breathing barely perceptible. An involuntary chill ran up Mikaelin’s spine.
“It cannot hurt to make the a
ttempt,” Elbrion whispered. “That one is near death.”
Mikaelin knelt beside her. His hand shook as he gingerly placed it on the girl’s feverish brow. He recoiled when she sighed and turned her head. Her eyes flutter then opened, fixing their gaze on Mikaelin. Her stomach, which had been grossly distended, flattened even as they watched.
“See! See, she’s better. You are an angel,” the blond shouted.
All at once, Mikaelin bent over with a gasp. “Get me out of here,” he whispered to Elbrion.
Elbrion put his arm under Mikaelin’s shoulder and tried to help him stand. Mikaelin groaned but couldn’t unfold. Pain screamed from every quadrant of his body.
“What’s wrong?” the boy cried.
“I’m…all right. Just tired. I-I need...to rest,” he rasped, barely able to will the words from his mouth.
The girl sat up as Elbrion helped Mikaelin into the main sanctuary. By the time Elbrion laid him on a bench, Mikaelin burned with fever and fluid drowned each breath.
From a foggy distance, he heard Elbrion’s voice. “Find Dalgo and hurry.”
~
Elbrion opened Mikaelin’s shirt and stared in amazement. There was a dark purple bruise from his ribs to his hip, and his abdomen was swollen to twice its size.
“What’s wrong?” Dalgo asked as he hurried in.
“Mikaelin touched some of the children, and it appears their injuries transferred into his body.”
Dalgo stopped abruptly and arched a brow. “How can that be?”
“I do not know, but I witnessed it. One boy had a large bruise on his side and had trouble breathing; look at Mikaelin’s side. And the girl he touched was the one from the isolation room, the one with the grossly swollen belly.” Elbrion nodded toward Mikaelin’s stomach.
