Linked

by K. R. Fajardo

“What did he do to you?” he demanded, coming to a halt in front of her.

  “I’m all right,” Maya said quietly, stepping the rest of the way into the room and closing the door. Slowly she walked past him, straight to the couch. “I’m all right.”

  Jarod watched her silently. Anger was still raging inside, but his concern for her kept him grounded. Maya took a seat on the soft cushions and pulled her legs into her chest. Resting her head on her knees, she began rocking back and forth in a slow methodical rhythm.

  “Maya?” His voice was still a low rumble, but the anger was subsiding and being replaced by another emotion that he wasn’t used to experiencing—fear.

  Maya could hear him calling to her, but his voice sounded distant and far away. She struggled to comprehend the questions he continued to bombard her with, questions she couldn’t answer. Unable to form the words she needed to comfort him, she stared into the hypnotizing movement of the flames, refusing to look at him or acknowledge him in any way.

  Helpless to do anything else about it, Jarod watched as Maya’s eyes glazed over and her expression went blank. It was a look he was more than familiar with and one he had hoped to protect her from. It was the look of someone who had found their darkness.

  “Maya,” Jarod spoke softly, growing more and more concerned with each passing second. It was more than clear from her behavior that she had either seen or done something that would torment her for days to come. “Tell me what happened, Maya.”

  There was hint of desperation in his tone as the anger fused with his fear, leaving him unsure of what to do. Half of him wanted to risk it all and go after Kai, but the other half felt the overwhelming desire to hold her, comfort her, do whatever he could to ease her pain.

  “We have to leave tomorrow,” she said softly. Looking over at him through her tears, she continued, “We are leaving the Tower tomorrow.”

  “Leaving?”

  Although he was relieved to hear her say something, hearing they had received permission to leave only increased his unease. Why now? What happened in that room? What had she done that made them change their minds? Taking a seat on the couch beside her, slowly and carefully he reached his hand out to hold her.

  Panic and terror contorted her features as she scrambled down the couch away from him, shaking her head. “No, don’t touch me!”

  A flash of red reappeared in his eyes but Jarod managed to push it back down. He was struggling and she could feel it, but in her mind all she could imagine was Kai’s hands running all over her and she feared if Jarod touched her he would know what had happened.

  “Maya,” Jarod began, his breathing becoming more labored, more purposeful. His control was breaking, “tell me what happened.” He kept his distance, respecting her wishes, but the strain of not knowing was wearing on him. “I need to know. Did Kai … did he?”

  “No,” she said, laying her head back onto her knees.

  She could hear him exhale in relief, but his body remained tense and rigid. “So what did happen?”

  Tears streamed down her face, as images ran rampant through her mind, tormenting her. Images of Jade barely able to stand or look at her, of Kai running his hands over her body, touching her intimately, then finally of the poor girl whom she had sentenced to take her place in Kai’s bed, and her lover dead on the throne room floor.

  “Maya, say something. What did they do? What did they make you do?”

  Maya continued to stare at him for a few long moments, his anxious eyes pleading with her for an answer. Then, once again, she turned her attention back to the fire and said the only thing she could think of, “I fixed your problem.”

  Chapter 9

  It was late morning before Citera rolled out of bed and made her way to the meal tent, hoping to snag a late breakfast before she headed to work with her father. As she neared the enormous tent, the tantalizing aromas of hot cereal, fresh milk, and warm bread filled the air and beckoned her inside. She pushed her way through the worn flaps, noticing right away how empty it was inside. I hope I’m not too late, she thought, slowly making her way across toward the serving line. There, a Full-blood lady stood behind a few left over pots, smiling as she approached.

  “Did you decide to sleep late today?” she asked as she reached behind the counter and pulled out a bowl.

  “Yeah, I just didn’t want to get up this morning.”

  Citera smiled back, despite the bold face lie she was telling. The truth was she hadn’t slept a wink, not last night, or any of the other nights, since she had witnessed the argument between K and Jaron.

  “Well, lucky for you we still have plenty,” the lady continued, oblivious to her deception. Instead she went about happily scooping several spoonfuls of the warm cereal into the bowl. She then placed a piece of bread inside with the cereal, filled a cup with milk, and handed it all across the counter to her.

  After politely thanking her, Citera took the items, and made her way to the furthest corner of the tent and took a seat at an empty table. Taking the spoon in her hand, she pushed it back and forth through the warm mushy cereal studying the various ingredients it contained. Filled with berries and honey, and it looked and smelled heavenly. However, the moment she lifted the spoon to her mouth to take a bite she was hit with an intense wave of nausea that caused her to break out in a cold sweat and drop the offending spoon back into the bowel. Bracing her head in her hands, she rested her elbows on the table and allowed the uneasy feeling to pass, while a rumble in her stomach acted as a painful reminder that she hadn’t eaten anything, just like she hadn’t slept, in days.

  Suddenly a figure appeared and plopped down in the chair across from hers. Without so much as a greeting, he lifted her glass of milk and downed half of it in two large gulps.

  “What are we going to do today?” Dirik asked, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

  Citera groaned. She hadn’t seen him in days, and in normal Dirik fashion, he suddenly appears out of nowhere expecting her to drop everything and spend her entire day with him.

  “We?” she snipped. Keeping her eyes locked on the meal in front of her, Citera resumed pushing the contents from one side of the bowl to the other. “Since when do you have time for me? Why don’t you go find Shena? The two of you seem to be getting along nicely.”

  “Oh, come on,” he smiled, trying to sway her with his boyish charm, “don’t be like that.” Leaning over the table and peeking up at her, Dirik got a better view of her exhausted face and gasped, “Citera, you look awful.”

  “Oh great, I don’t see you in days and that’s the greeting I get?” she snapped sarcastically. “Go entertain yourself, I don’t need you.”

  A mixture of hurt and shock crossed his face. “Citera, I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just … well, you kind of look like you did back at the clinic after we found your dad.” He paused, looking down at the full breakfast spread out in front of her still untouched. “You’re not eating again.”

  It wasn’t a question as much as it was an observation.

  “Or sleeping,” she sighed. The sincerity in his tone made it impossible to stay angry with him. Peering up at the concerned expression on his face, she immediately began to feel bad for how she had behaved. “I’m sorry Dirik, I guess I’m a little moody.”

  “No problem, I’m an expert at making moody women happy.” Dirik grinned, waggling his eyebrows at her. Citera rolled her eyes, trying to conceal her amusement. “I know, let’s go to the river and spend the day.”

  Nothing would have made her happier than doing just that. Instead, she sighed. “I can’t today, Dirik. Dad needs me to help him at the medical tent. Jaron is still too busy trying to find K.”

  Since the night after the exhibition, no one had seen or heard from K. In the beginning, Jaron hadn’t seemed too concerned, saying it wasn’t abnormal for her to up and disappear for days at a time. But after a few more nights with still no signs of her returning, he too became slightly antsy. After about the fourth night
, Jaron began searching the forest with Tyran, but so far they hadn’t had much luck. And as each following day passed, Jaron grew more and more desperate to locate her.

  “It’s not your fault, Citera.”

  His words snapped her out of her daydream. “What?”

  “What happened between K and Jaron, it’s not your fault.”

  Citera heaved a deep breath and pushed the bowl across the table; she wasn’t eating for sure now. “It was only an argument, Dirik. Why do you think she would stay away for so long?”

  “Perhaps it was something that happened after the argument … later that night, maybe?”

  Her head snapped up. Dirik tilted his head and cocked an eyebrow, hinting he knew more than he was supposed to.

  “How do you know about that?” she whispered angrily. No one else was supposed to know. Janil, Gabriel, and her father suspected, but no one knew for sure about the fight in the tent, so how did Dirik? Suddenly, it dawned on her. “You were following me again!”

  Grinning sheepishly, Dirik shrugged.

  “You know that is seriously getting creepy!” Furious, Citera picked up her spoon and threw it at him, cereal and all. Dirik dodged in the nick of time, then turned and waved at a couple sitting a few tables over, whose attention they had managed to capture. “Sorry, guys, lover’s spat.”

  “Dirik!” Citera yelled, picking up the bowl.

  “Whoa! Wait a minute, I surrender!” Dirik shouted, raising his hands. “Calm down, or you’re going to get us banned from eating in here.”

  Citera glanced over Dirik’s shoulder at the frowning kitchen ladies staring her down. Setting the bowl gently back down on the table, she glared at Dirik. “If you were there then why didn’t you come inside and help me?”

  “Because I was watching K to be sure she didn’t go back inside.”

  “What are you talking about? K left,” Citera responded, settling back into her chair.

  “No, she didn’t.” Dirik paused and scanned the tent nervously. “Let’s go, I’ll walk you to the medical tent and we can talk about it.”

  Standing, the two of them headed out of the tent and down the path through the housing district. Dirik remained quiet as they continued, and it wasn’t until they reached the nearly deserted path through the trees that he picked up where he left off.

  “I was behind the tree near the break off trail to Jaron’s tent when I saw you pass by and turn down the path. It was getting dark and there are no lights down that way so I followed you to be sure everything was all right.” Dirik looked around to be sure no one was close enough to hear. Satisfied they were alone he continued, “As we came closer I heard all the yelling, then the scuffle that ensued. I thought for sure you would be smart enough to leave, but noooo, you had to go inside.” Sarcasm played in his tone as Dirik shook his head and rolled his eyes. To which Citera replied by sticking out her tongue.

  Dirik returned the favor. “Anyway, I was about to come and pull your crazy butt out of there when K appeared near the back of the tent.”

  “Did she see me? What was she doing?” Citera stammered. The idea that K knew she had been spying on her, made her suddenly sick to her stomach.

  “She stood there staring … listening I think. And when you left for help, she watched you go.” Dirik paused, turning to look over his shoulder at Citera. “Her eyes were red, Citera, blood red.”

  In that moment Citera’s heart skipped a beat. K knew she had spied on her and she was angry. Nervousness quickly turned into panic, making it difficult to breath. Couple that with her lack of sleep or food, and Citera was suddenly feeling very dizzy. Dirik, picking up on her instability, threw her arm over his shoulder and wrapped his around her waist. Normally she would have pushed him away with some snide comment about Shena, or one of the other camp girls that constantly drooled over him, but at the moment her only concern was staying on her feet.

  “She’s going to kill me,” Citera exhaled. “Literally!”

  “I don’t think so,” Dirik responded softly. “I doubt she is going to come back.”

  A wave of relief washed over her, followed swiftly by confusion. “Why would you think that?”

  “She looked sad, Citera, not angry. I know her eyes were red, and they had just fought, but as I watched her I was overcome with a sadness that was so overwhelming it was painful.” Dirik stopped by one of the benches on the path and set Citera down. “It had to have been her. I don’t how I know, I just do. I was feeling her sadness and it was awful, Citera, awful.”

  “You think she feels bad for what happened?”

  “I know she does.” Dirik gazed at her. “You know, the expression you had on your face in the dining tent today, it reminded me a lot of how she looked that night.”

  “But that doesn’t explain why you think she won’t come back.” Little by little Citera could feel the tension in her stomach settling. “She wouldn’t abandon all the people here … would she?”

  “I don’t know,” Dirik answered, leaning back and taking in the vibrant green beauty of the forest around them. “All I know is right before she disappeared into the woods she laid one hand on the tent, lowered her head, and closed her eyes. It looked like she was saying good-bye … at least it felt like a good-bye.”

  Together they sat, neither one saying a word, the silence broken only by the varied sounds of nature surrounding them. And in the silence, an unspoken question maintained a foreboding presence, What happens to the people of Oasis if K doesn’t come back?

  K was supposed to be their savior, the only person who could stand against the Shadows. Jaron was powerful and a great leader, but even he wasn’t strong enough to stop the Shadows if they found their way to camp. Visions of Oasis under attack, flooded to the front of Citera’s mind and she doubled over, clutching her head. Graphic images of tents burning, people screaming, and families crying, overwhelmed her. And the emotions, so many emotions—fear, anger, despair, hopelessness—all surging through her body at once, like the flames of fire burning her from the inside.

  “Citera?” She could hear Dirik calling to her, but the torrent of emotions seized her throat, robbing her of her voice. “Citera!” The scenery around her started to move, spinning uncontrollably, and she felt herself begin to fall from the bench.

  “Help, someone help!”

  Dirik was shouting, fear consuming his voice, as he eased her to the ground below. Her vision began to blur, the nausea and pain in her stomach nearing an unbearable level. She felt an arm go under her legs and another behind her shoulders, lifting her. All around her voices mumbled, but she was unable to make out who they belonged to or what they were saying. Surrendering herself to the inevitable, she allowed her head to sag limply against the body carrying her as her vision continued to fade until, only moments later, peaceful oblivion stole her away.

  ***

  When she reawakened she was lying in a bed with a white sheet covering her. Moving to get up, she felt a painful tugging on her arm and reached over to see what it was. “Don’t touch it,” her father’s concerned voice called from beside her. She turned her head to see him sitting in a chair next to the bed she was lying on. “It’s an IV, we are giving you some fluids.”

  “Dad?” She squinted, trying to get a better look at where she was through her blurry vision. “What happened? Where am I, and where is Dirik?”

  “You are in the medical tent, Jaron found you on the trail passed out and carried you here. Dirik has gone to the dining tent to bring you something to eat. He told me what has been going on, Citera. Apparently I need to be keeping a better eye on you.” She could hear the disappointment in his voice and cringed, knowing what was about to come next. “How long has it been exactly since you have had something to eat?”

  “A day or two.”

  “Citera,” her father warned.

  “Okay, since the night Jaron was injured,” she conceded, bracing for the reaction she knew was coming.

  “Six days!” Suddenly her
father was no longer sitting, “What … how … why?” Citera recoiled; her dad always stammered when he was frustrated. Leaning over the bed, he studied her features closely. “Is there anything else you need to tell me?”

  She sighed. Might as well get all the yelling done at once. “I haven’t slept any since then either.”

  Mikel collapsed back into his chair. “I am an awful father,” he mumbled, talking more to himself than to her. “I knew you were having nightmares, but I didn’t know they had gotten that bad.”

  Citera attempted to push herself up, but only managed to get onto her elbows. “No, Dad, it isn’t your fault. I worked hard to keep it from the two of you. Just because I couldn’t sleep didn’t mean you guys shouldn’t either.”

  “What are the nightmares about?” a calm voice asked from across the room. Following the sound, Citera groaned internally when she spotted Jaron standing propped against a cabinet watching her and her father. She should have known he was still here. And from his crossed arms and slightly lowered brow line, she could assume he wasn’t very happy with her either. “And what happened on the trail today?”

  He still sported the stiches in his brow, but all of the other signs of his and K’s scuffle had already faded away. Moving forward to stand on the side of the bed opposite her father, he cocked his head to the side, waiting for an answer.

  “Well?” her father joined in.

  Citera looked back and forth between the two of them looming over her, their stares making her feel small and weak. There was no way she was getting out of this, she was trapped.

  “The nightmares change,” she sighed. “Sometimes I dream about the patrols coming to arrest my father while I cry and beg for his release. Sometimes I dream about Mom, having to watch helplessly as she passes away again and again.” Citera paused, looking over at Jaron. “Other times I see Jarod, the day he came at me in the hallway of the clinic, only in the nightmare he succeeds in killing me.”

  “By the stars,” Mikel whispered, placing his head in his hands.

  Jaron remained stoic. “What happened on the trail?”