“Come on,” he said and nudged me with his arms, clearly tired of my skirting around the subject.
“Fine,” I conceded and took a rather large breath. “It’s all about control of a person’s will, and I achieve that by convincing them to listen to me. Normally, I start by getting them to listen to my voice, to accept the sound, and then I begin to send my thoughts to them. I say what I want them to do and sometimes it works,” thinking of how Verna resisted my last question, I added, “and sometimes it doesn’t.”
“But how do you maintain control?” Zale asked, there was a curiosity in his voice which surprised me and I realized he found me interesting, an idea I could have never considered when I was in his presence.
“With the eyes,” I said and turned to look at him. “It’s much easier to gain control when I have eye contact.”
“Then how did you manage to break into here? Last I checked, there were two guards outside.” He spoke casually, but there was something hidden deep within his voice which I couldn’t name.
“That was a little tougher,” I agreed looking away again, “but they weren’t expecting to hear me, and I caught them off guard, which let me into their minds more easily than it normally would.”
“Interesting,” he said and this time I understood what lay beneath his voice. He sounded proud, impressed with my abilities; a flushing heat rose in my cheeks.
Was it so remarkable I was able to find a way to control other merfolk, or at least get them to do my will? In all reality it was, but there was a terrible danger lingering in the shadows as well. I remembered all too clearly what had happened when the anger had taken over.
“Zale?” I asked, his name cutting through the silence between us.
“Hmm,” he murmured, his thoughts seemingly elsewhere.
“How do you control the anger?” I asked, barely able to give voice to the words. It was silent for a moment and that’s when I knew he was aware of what had happened during Verna’s interrogation. He had heard of the way I had lost control and tried against all caution to bend her to my will.
“With practice,” he sighed, and I felt his chest fall away from my back for a moment when he exhaled. I nodded and it grew silent between us once more.
Glancing around the room, I pretended I could see everything clearly. I was able to see better, my eyes having adjusted to the darkness, but there was little else to let my gaze rest upon other than the man who had me wrapped in his arms. It was to these arms and hands, I returned my attention.
“I tried,” I admitted in a whisper, the words coming quickly. “At first it was fine, and I did everything I could to not think about how she was the one to capture me, or how we never would’ve gone through all this if it weren’t for her. But as I was bringing her under my control, I started to think of what they accused you of doing and I knew you didn’t do it. I needed her to confess it. I just needed her to tell me it wasn’t you.”
“I see,” he said after a time. I felt the air stir near my ear, the saltiness of his breath still evident.
“I just wanted them to understand, it wasn’t you,” I said and thinking of the memory brought my anger back to the surface, along with a lingering shame. My fingers began to tremble. As though he noticed what was happening, he grasped my hands more securely, entrapping them in his own, until they stilled.
“I only care about you knowing,” he whispered near my ear, a smile tugged against my mouth.
“But how do you do it?”
He sighed again, “It doesn’t always work.” He didn’t have to tell me. There was a particular massacre, I remembered all too well, which could remind me of what happened when he lost control; not to mention my near death in the cave on the island.
“I already told you how I do it,” he squeezed me a little tighter for a moment, “I think of you.”
“I tried that, well sort of,” I admitted.
“Really?”
“I remembered the way you were so calm when Bolrock attacked me, even though I knew you were angry.”
“I was,” he agreed, his lingering fury evident in his voice. “But that isn’t going to work.”
“How come?”
“Well,” he said, pausing for a moment. “Do you remember how I taught you to throw your dagger? How you should grasp it, but not too tight?”
“Yes,” I said, not connecting his train of thought.
“It’s the same thing,” he squeezed my hands. “You have to hold onto your anger, use it to get you through the moment, but don’t hold on too tight or it will overcome you.”
“Oh,” I said, replaying his words in my mind and trying to fully comprehend what he was saying. In a sense I had had the right idea at the time. I had tried to remember my anger and why I was questioning Verna, but I had wanted to keep it from controlling me. It was only when it had become more personal, when I had desperately tried to get her to confess who killed King Oberon, that I had lost control.
“But you need something stronger to keep at the front of your mind,” he said.
“Like what?” I asked, intrigued.
“For me, it’s you. A memory, or rather, an image I have of you.”
“Oh,” I said, even more captivated, “and what image might that be?”
“I might tell you sometime,” he said and placed a kiss on my cheek. I was about to press on, but he changed the subject too quickly. “I guess I should thank you, for trying to gain my innocence.”
“Maybe,” I said and leaned my head back against his chest. “You still haven’t told me what you were up to.”
“Ahh,” he said and shifted behind my back, situating himself more comfortably against the wall. “Where should I start? When I left Hyvar, or before?”
“Before.”
“Okay,” he fell silent for a moment and then spoke, his voice softer this time. “After I left you, I returned to Hyvar, but I couldn’t get you out of my mind. I lied to Morven about what really happened to Bolrock, and he believed me, but I knew I’d lost his trust. I did what I could to regain it. Then he told me to do something I couldn’t, so I left.” He shrugged his shoulders upon finishing.
“What did he want you to do?” I asked, curious about what had made him leave his master.
“I’m here for you, you know that right?” he said softly by my ear, and my brow creased at his answer.
“Of course.”
“He ordered me to kill you,” the deep baritone of his voice sent a shiver down my spine, but I barely felt it as the reality of what he said sunk in.
“He wants me dead?” I asked in disbelief. “That—that—can’t be right. He came to my house and could’ve killed me himself.”
“I know,” was all my warrior said.
“Then why would he tell you to kill me?”
“A test?” he shrugged again. I could almost hear his mind at work. “It’s the only thing I can think of.”
“But it doesn’t make sense.” I shook my head, as the memory of Morven’s visit played through my mind. He had certainly been hostile, as he always was, but he hadn’t threatened to hurt me bodily. At the time, I didn’t even have my dagger to protect myself.
“So after that, I left,” he said as though it was a simple matter, but I knew it had taken much more skill and cunning for him to have left Hyvar without being captured. “Since then, I busied myself with keeping you safe.”
“Really?” I asked, and snuggled closer to him.
“Yes,” he said, “I spent my days hunting down Hyven soldiers Morven had sent after you.”
This time goosebumps rose on my flesh, as I realized how little control I had over my own destiny. It was amazing I was still alive at this point.
“I guess it’s my turn to thank you, then,” I said.
“Maybe,” he replied, and I gave a short laugh at his use of my previous response. He had thanked me for my efforts in trying to procure his innocence in the matter of the king’s death. I had fallen short during that attempt, but I
was determined to not be resisted again. Yet, as my determination grew, my earlier fears returned and my thoughts set on tomorrow’s events.
“I won’t do it,” I said.
“Yes, you will,” he replied, clearly understanding what I was speaking of. He knew I was afraid to use my voice against him, but he couldn’t know the real reason. “You wanted to clear my name, tomorrow you’ll do it.”
“No, I won’t,” I shook my head, but I knew I was going to lose this battle. He had logic on his side. He couldn’t know my denial was coupled in the fear of what might happen if I lost control again.
I knew I loved him, truly loved him as he was in his warrior form, but there were times when I could still feel the lingering anger inside of me for what he had become. Most of all, it was in response to the night he told me to save myself and leave him in the Hyvar dungeon. His words were as clear to me now as they had been in that moment, and though he didn’t remember, I did. There was a part of my heart which still hung on to who he used to be, wanting desperately to make him understand what I had lost.
But think of what you have gained, I thought, trying to push the rising anger aside.
“You will do it,” he said again. There was no hint of him backing down on the matter.
“I don’t want to,” I admitted, knowing he could never understand how much.
“I know, but you have to.”
My head hung forward a little as I felt the weight of what he laid upon me. Lifting his right hand, the chains clanged and he grasped my chin to turn my face to his. I closed my eyes and tried to ignore him, even though I felt his breath swirl around my lips.
“Look at me,” he said gently, his tone asking, rather than demanding.
When I opened my eyes, I met his gaze and felt the warmth of them once more. I knew I would do as he asked, even though my fear was mounting at the thought of having to go through with it.
“You know we could avoid this?”
“How so?” he whispered, his lips getting closer.
“I have the keys,” I leaned in and pressed my lips against his gently, only for a moment. “I could free you and you could escape.”
“I could,” he agreed, “but I won’t.”
“And why not?”
“This is my only chance to clear my name.”
“Why does that matter to you now?” I asked, honestly curious about why he had even walked into Lathmor and given himself over to them.
“Because, it’s my only chance to really be with you,” he said and moved in to press his lips against mine. His kiss was much deeper than my own had been, and before long, I was gasping for air, my body crushed against his chest.
He pulled away suddenly and I groped for his neck in the dark, having turned partially to face him, still sitting between his legs. When I found his neck, I locked my fingers into his hair and leaned in to kiss him once more. Just before I touched my lips to his, he moved back, his head resting against the wall and a curious look on his face.
“What?” I asked, uncertain.
“Earlier, you said something about Verna capturing you.”
“Yeah?” I prodded, not sure where he was going with this.
“But you also said we wouldn’t have gone through everything, if it wasn’t for her,” he explained. I tensed up as I realized my slip. He felt the difference in my body and shook my shoulder slightly. “What did you mean by that?”
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I could hear Kryssa’s voice urging me to tell him the truth. She had told me to tell him who he was, and yet the very idea of it frightened me to my core.
There was a part of me which couldn’t reconcile the nagging apprehension of what would happen if he ever remembered. I wanted to protect him from the anger he would feel toward himself for what he had become. My heart grew cold, knowing it was my fault he had given into the darkness, which stole his memories.
It had been in a very different dungeon, on a different island, but he was asking the same thing of me. That night in Hyvar, he had asked me to leave when I had the chance. In doing so, I had given him over to the darkness which reigned inside him—the darkness he had to fight against every day.
And now, he was asking me to use my power against him, to control him and reveal his past actions so the Lathmorians could see what he was. He asked me to lay him bare before all the merfolk on the island, but what he didn’t know was, he was asking me to also bare myself before them. For every word that would come out of his mouth, was because of me. Every action he had committed since he lost his memories, was because of his sacrifice to let me save my own life.
The tears began to build behind my eyes and I felt one slip down my cheek, leaving no trace. I looked away from him and felt his palm press against the side of my cheek, turning my face back to his.
“Lissie?” he asked, his voice gentle and prodding. “Please tell me,” he whispered and gathered me up against his chest. His head leaned down against my own. I knew he was wondering what he had done to make me lose my voice. “Can’t you tell me?”
My lips parted. I wetted them and waited for the words to come. Nothing came out. Sighing, I looked at our hands.
“Maybe I will sometime,” I said, recalling his earlier words.
My guilt seemed to deepen, knowing the moment was gone. There was no turning back now. I had for a moment stood on the edge of the cliff, looking down into the swirling depths of uncertainty and definite heartache, only to cringe away and put it on hold for another time.
My guilt increased and I squeezed myself closer to him, my legs folded awkwardly, as he still had one leg bent to the side, his back braced against the wall.
We sat for a long time in the silence, holding one another and enjoying the moment of being together. Time seemed to stand still as nothing moved around us. The only sound was his steady breath, and it wasn’t long before I felt his arms slacken around me and his chest rise and fall more deeply. I smiled to myself, knowing he had probably been going for days without rest. I wasn’t a fool, I had noted the way the skin beneath his eyes sagged a little more than usual.
Pushing back from his body, I felt the cold swirl around me and knew it was time to get back to Kryssa’s room. As far as I knew, no one was aware I was missing and I would prefer to keep it that way.
His arms slid along my sides and I had to catch his wrists so they wouldn’t clang to the floor. As my fingers slipped around his wrists, I settled them by his legs and crouched to stand, until I felt the fingers reach around and grab my own arms. Without a word he pulled me to him, his eyes barely open and face groggy. I straddled his hips and gave into the kiss as he reached up toward my lips, entangling his fingers in my hair.
With a gentleness I didn’t know he possessed, he pressed his mouth to mine and after he deepened it for a moment, he pulled away to meet my gaze. We didn’t speak, but merely looked at one another, and I saw the love I felt for him reflected in his eyes.
He was mine, and I was his.
A brush of a smile raised my lips and I pressed my mouth against his once more before I rose and left him on the black marble floor.
My voice seemed to come from a different person as I forced the same two guards to look away, and the merman took the keys from my hand without question.
As I walked up the stairs to the main floor, I heard them mumble to one another, they thought they had dozed off for a moment. But even those thoughts couldn’t touch me as I returned to my room and found Calmric still unconscious on the floor. After dragging him back to the hall, I untied his bindings and removed the gag, hoping he would remember nothing.
It all seemed to happen as though I was watching it from above. My thoughts were focused elsewhere, on what I had left behind, and on the task which hung before me. I knew I would see him tomorrow, but what would happen was something I couldn’t predict.
Lying down on the soft mattress, I allowed myself to give into the fears of what I might become, if I couldn’t control the song. As m
y mind drifted into unconsciousness, a memory played before my eyes. It was Patrick, his eyes cautioning me the first time I had seen him, standing on the cliff of the island.
I’m not going to hurt you, he had said.
Unconsciously, I smiled. I had a memory to focus on.
11. Demise
They came for me at dawn.
I had to focus to keep my eyes open; the puffiness of my eyelids pressing back against them, but I was more than awake.
Standing in the king’s chamber awaiting the arrival of Zale, my heart was hammering out a static rhythm of uncomfortable proportions. The scene was the same as it had been the day I questioned Verna. The metal chair stood resolute in the center of the black diamond, and Lathmorian soldiers lined the walls, their communal gaze focused on me.
A sense of déjà vu overcame me, as I ignored their stares and concentrated on the image in my mind. My fear was mounting with each passing second, worried the anger inside me might take control again, but I fought it back with the memory of Patrick’s words. Zale was counting on me to succeed, and I would.
Upon reaching the chamber earlier, I had noted Calmric’s presence in the crowd and wondered if he remembered any of last night’s events. He looked a little worse for wear, but there was no recollection in his eyes when I glanced his way.
My nerves stretched tight, I shifted from one foot to the other. Behind me stood the royals, and I tried not to think of Tunder and how this interrogation was counting on my abilities to gain Zale’s innocence. You won’t fail this time, I thought.
A noted change took place in the group when a few of the mermaids turned their heads toward the door; their hearing better than the males in the room. A second later, I heard the jangle of the chains and the grip on my stomach tightened.
The door opened quite suddenly and four guards escorted Zale toward the metal chair. The merman and mermaid from the night before glanced my way, but whether or not they remembered what I had done, I couldn’t tell because my focus was on the large man who trumped all four of them in size.
The warrior’s mask was in place as he strode forward, head held high, to the center of the room. It was as though he was leading the group, rather than being brought before the Lathmorians for trial.
Torrents (DROPLETS Trilogy Book 3) Page 16
