by Ted Dekker
He could not die without expressing his true love one last time.
He lay still and let her cry softly, afraid to open his eyes again. It had all begun with a bump on the head. He’d lived a month in one reality, unknowingly releasing a plague and then perhaps undoing that same disease. And he’d lived sixteen years in this reality, where another kind of disease had been loosed and then undone.
Both would end in his death.
None of that mattered now. Only Chelise mattered. From the very beginning it had all been about her. This one woman who must be given the opportunity to dive into a pool of red to trade her white skin for the white gown of a bride. Justin’s bride.
He had to give Mikil more time.
The main library had been cleared of the scribes by Christoph in a simple agreement that would one day give him more authority. The chief librarian was no fool. He knew that in time Woref might have even more power than he had now. Ciphus was another story. The chief priest had agreed to bring Thomas, but he refused to implicate himself in any way. He could play both sides, a snake if ever there was one.
Woref ’s most trusted lieutenant, Soren, sat by the wall that butted up against the storage room that held the Books of Histories. He occasionally peered through a small slit they’d cut in the wall to give him a clear view of the entire back room from above the fourth shelf of Books.
Woref stood by the opposite window, looking out at the circular orchard in the middle of the royal garden. He had no interest in watching the albino—some things were better left unseen. He was interested only in the conclusion of this matter.
The fury that had raged through his mind after seeing Chelise’s response to Thomas in the dungeons had surprised even him. He’d dreamed of Teeleh screaming into his face, fangs wide, throat deep and black. The beast had slashed him with his taloned claw.
Woref woke from the nightmare weeping. Cheek bleeding.
Recalling the event now, his neck went hot and his fingers trembled. He closed his eyes and calmed himself. Black flooded his mind. You will kill her, Woref. You know that. In the end, even if she loves you, you will strike her too hard or choke her too long, and she will die in your arms. Why not today and be done with it?
Because we want her love.
“He’s waking, my lord.”
Woref opened his eyes. He had to give the albino credit. According to Soren, he’d done well, then knocked himself out to spare himself the pain. It had seemed rash to Soren, but Woref understood. He knew Thomas’s heart, and he despised him for it.
The woman was another matter. Her love for Thomas ran deeper than he’d imagined. She was a stubborn whore. But he knew that she was crying for herself, not for Thomas.
It was now only a matter of time. Teeleh would have his wench’s love.
He couldn’t bear lying awake while she cried anymore. Thomas took a deep breath and rolled away from Chelise. She jumped to her feet and stepped back. “Thomas?”
Woref or one of his faithful was still watching, listening. They’d let this go on only because of Thomas’s convincing performance thus far.
He looked around, as if dazed. “How much time has passed?” he whispered.
“What?”
He looked at her. Face streaked. Eyes wide. Her question lingered on a parted mouth. Thomas suddenly couldn’t trust himself to speak. He would break down, here and now, and cling to her ankles and beg her forgiveness for the way he’d cut her to ribbons with his tongue.
He swallowed and diverted his eyes. “How long was I out?”
She didn’t respond right away, which meant she didn’t know either. He couldn’t do this! He couldn’t bear it any longer!
“I don’t know, maybe half an hour. Or ten minutes.”
“Only ten minutes?” Mikil would need much more time! Then again, if she’d fallen asleep and dreamed only five minutes before he had, she could have spent a whole day here already. In any case, no one had come for them yet. Which could only mean that Mikil had not succeeded. For all he knew, she was dead.
“It could have been an hour,” she said. Her tone was sharper now. He glanced at her and saw that she was frowning. Still staring at him, but with more resolution now. There was only so much of this she could take before she began to believe his lies.
“Please,” she whispered.
Thomas clasped his hands behind his back and strolled down the line of Books. Please! She’d said please, and she might as well have kissed his lips!
He tried to think of the missing blank Books and the very serious con-sequences that could follow the Books appearing in the other reality. But he had no room in his heart now for what-ifs. He couldn’t tear his mind away from the woman who watched him walk as if he was disinterested in her.
I am interested in you, my love. Look at my face, my hands, the way I walk, the way I breathe. Can’t you see past this charade and know that I will always love you?
That would defeat the purpose of his game, wouldn’t it?
What if he actually succeeded? What if she turned against him in rage and never loved him again?
His heart began to crash in his chest. He came to the corner and stopped. Tears were filling his eyes again, and he tried to blink them away. He closed his eyes and begged her to forgive him. It was worse than death.
Mikil, where are you? He had to make Woref believe that he was playing his diabolical game. He had to stay strong for her sake. Silence smothered the library. A deep void of death. A sealed tomb filled with . . .
Thomas opened his eyes. There was a sound behind him. A very soft wail. Not like her other sobs. There was an unmistakable sound of finality to her groan.
Terrified, he looked back.
Chelise was lying on the floor, facedown, with her hands extended above her head, weeping.
Thomas was stumbling toward her before he could tell his feet to move. He would not bear this! What had he done?
He fell to his knees, threw his arms over her head, and buried his face in her hair. He tried to speak, but his throat wasn’t cooperating.
He tried to be gentle—to pull back and tell her what he desperately wanted to tell her, to stroke her face and wipe her tears, but all he could do was cling to her and cry into her hair. Woref would come. At any moment they would crash through the doors and pull him off of her. He had to tell her!
But he could only shake over her like a leaf.
Stop it, Thomas! You’re terrifying her!
Then he lifted his head, sat back on his legs, and wept at the ceiling. “I . . . love . . . you.” It came out as hardly more than a whisper.
He sucked in a lungful of air and gazed at the back of her head through his tears. He stroked her hair with his fingertips. “I love you, Chelise, my bride, more than I could possibly love anything else.” Her crying had stilled. “I’m so sorry . . . It was a lie, all of it was a lie, so that you would forget about me.”
His words rushed out with relief. “I had to drive you away so they wouldn’t kill you, but I can’t do it. I can’t do it; I don’t have the strength to see you suffer. Forgive me, forgive me, my love.”
Chelise’s back rose and fell with her deep breathing. Did she believe him? The thought that she might not dashed through his mind. He dropped on her again, clung to her shoulders, and wept into her back.
“I beg you, forgive me! I didn’t mean a word, I swear it.”
He was smothering her again!
Thomas pulled back.
Chelise pushed herself to her knees, facing away. Thomas trembled, horrified by the thought that she might not believe him.
She turned slowly and he saw that her mouth was locked in a silent cry. She stared at him through pools of tears. She was regretting? She was . . .
Chelise threw her arms around his shoulders, buried her face in his neck. “I knew you loved me!” she sobbed. She kissed him below his ear and ran her fingers up the nape of his neck and squeezed him as if she were clinging to life. “I love you, my darling! I will always love
you.”
Thomas was beyond himself. He wrapped his arms around her, giving her only enough space to breathe. “Marry me!” he cried. It was absurd, but he didn’t care. He wanted her to hear it. “Marry me!”
She hesitated only a single beat. “I will.” She wept over his shoulder. “I will marry you.”
The door crashed open and slammed behind Thomas. Boots pounded over the floor. A fist grabbed his hair and yanked him back with such force that he thought his neck might have been broken.
He fell back and Chelise came with him.
Woref snatched a handful of her hair and jerked her off of him. Chelise screamed.
“Leave her!” Thomas tried to rise. “Leave her—” Woref ’s boot connected with his temple and he fell flat.
He had to get up. He had to stall Woref. He had to kill the man. They were both dead anyway. Thomas pushed himself up. The room was spinning. He blinked and gathered himself. It occurred to him that no one else had come into the room. Whatever Woref planned, he would blame Thomas.
“Qurong . . .” Thomas gasped. “Qurong won’t let you . . .”
Woref shoved Chelise against the wall and held her by her neck, hand drawn to hit her. “Now I will kill you,” he said. His voice rose. “Do you hear me, you filthy whore? I will pound you until you die,” he screamed in rage. “No one defies me! Not the daughter of Qurong, not Qurong himself!”
He swung his hand.
“Stop!”
The door flew inward.
Woref was committed—his open hand slapped Chelise’s cheek with the sound of a cracking whip. Her head snapped sideways. But Woref had pulled back his full strength at the last moment. She stared at the doorway with wide eyes.
Thomas followed her stare. There stood Qurong. And Ciphus. And behind them, Mikil, hands bound.
The supreme leader stood with both hands clenched, head bared. The vein at his temple bulged beneath his long, thick dreadlocks.
“Release her.”
Woref withdrew his hand from her neck. He swept back a rope of hair that had fallen over his face. “This woman has committed treason by loving an albino,” he said. “For that she must die.”
Qurong stepped into the room. Thomas stood and looked at Mikil, who was staring at him.
“What is she doing here?” Qurong demanded.
“I brought her to save her life,” Woref said. “Ciphus knows.”
“I only know that you ordered her here,” the chief priest said. “I know nothing else.”
“You lie!”
“I’ll decide who’s lying,” Qurong said. He stared at his daughter, lips drawn in a thin line. “How could bringing her here save her life? She was never condemned!”
“She condemned herself by loving the albino.” Woref spit on the floor. “I knew and I demanded that the albino retract his love so that she would come to her senses. It was the least I could do for you.”
“Then you’re a fool,” Qurong said bitterly. “You see things that don’t exist. Who are you to judge the love of my daughter? My wife is right; you have a death wish for her.”
“I can assure you—”
“Silence!” The supreme leader paced in rage. “I don’t care what you say, your word is no longer trustworthy.”
“Perhaps your daughter should speak for herself,” Ciphus said.
They all looked at Chelise. Her eyes glanced around. Stared at Thomas. Then settled on her father.
“Then speak,” Qurong said. “But I warn you, we have a law that binds us.”
Thomas felt his heart sink. She had to deny her love! If she only denied it, Qurong would give her the benefit of any doubt and let her live. Woref ’s plot was exposed; she would be safe.
Chelise stared at her father for a long time. She looked at Thomas, and he shook his head barely, so that no one but her would see. Please, my love. I know the truth. Save yourself.
She locked onto his eyes and stepped away from the wall. “You want to know the truth, Father? You want to know why this beast you’ve put in charge of your armies is so outraged?”
She walked toward Thomas and stopped in front of him. “You want to know why this albino bound me and stole me from the castle? Why he would cross the desert for me on foot if he had to? Why he would give his life to save mine?” She paused. “It is because he loves me more than he loves his own breath.”
Thomas felt his brows wrinkle in fear for her.
Chelise took his arm, stepped by his side, and faced her father. “And I love him the same.”
They were six frozen statues.
“I’m sorry, Father. I can’t lie about this.”
Thomas saw the same fear he felt for her life pass through Qurong’s eyes. “You’re being forced . . .”
“I’m not,” she said.
“You can’t possibly say this! Do you know what this means?”
“It simply means that I love him. And for that love I will pay any price.”
The supreme leader’s face flushed with fury. He glared at Ciphus.
The priest bowed his head. “Then her fate is sealed, my lord.”
Slowly, like the fading sun, Qurong’s face changed. The resolve that had served him so well in a hundred battles settled over him. He glanced at Chelise once, then looked at Thomas.
“Forgive me,” Thomas said. “I would do anything—”
“Shut up! Against the wall! Both of you.”
Thomas and Chelise stepped over to the wall and pressed their backs to the bookcase.
“Release him,” he snapped at Chelise. “Move away.”
She obeyed.
“So then. The price for the head of my greatest enemy is the death of my own daughter. So be it.”
He turned his back on them and stared at the back wall.
“Woref, please join them.”
The general seemed not to have heard. “I’m sorry, my lord, what—”
“Join them on the wall.”
“I don’t see—”
“Now!”
Woref stepped next to Thomas.
“Ciphus.”
Ciphus walked over and pulled Woref ’s sword free before the man could make sense of what was happening.
Qurong faced him. “I sentence you to death for treason against the royal family. You will die with them.”
Woref stood aghast. “I don’t think you understand, my lord. I’ve committed no act of treason!”
“You denounced me. You also had every intention of killing my daughter. I told you if you hurt her I would drown you myself, and now I will do that.”
“This is an outrage!”
“It is fair,” Ciphus said. “It is just.”
“Come!” Qurong ordered.
A guard stepped in, followed by a line of others, moving quickly. Twenty filed in and surrounded them.
The supreme leader stepped up to Woref, grabbed the band across his chest that gave him his rank, and ripped it free. “Bind them!” he ordered. “They will drown tonight.” He threw the sash on the floor and stepped toward the door.
“What of the other albino?” Ciphus asked. “She came willingly. On your behalf.”
Qurong’s eyes were sad and his fight was gone. He looked at Mikil. “Release her.”
43
Thomas stood in heavy leg chains on the wooden platform that reached out over the muddy lake. A half circle of roughly fifty hooded warriors, each armed with swords and sickles, stood behind the dock. Every third one carried a blazing torch that cut the night with flickering orange light. Ciphus waited to one side with several council members, avoiding eye contact with Thomas. Qurong was evidently on his way.
None of this mattered to Thomas. Only Chelise mattered. He searched the darkness behind the guards for a glimpse of her. Neither she nor Woref had been brought yet.
Conflicting emotions had beat at Thomas as he lay in the black cell. He’d wanted to die; he’d wanted to live.
At any moment he might die as he lay on the bed where the
y were draining his blood. Part of him begged Elyon to spare him the agony of seeing Chelise drowned by allowing him to die now.
Part of him begged Elyon to let him live another hour, long enough to see his love just one more time. They would die, but in their death they would be together. He couldn’t bear the thought of not looking into her eyes again.
He didn’t know what they’d done with her after they’d been pulled apart at the library, but his mind hadn’t rested in imagining. Was she in her castle, crying on her bed while her mother wept for her life in the courtyard? Was she in the dungeon, thrown to the floor like a used doll? Was she demanding her father reconsider his sentence or screaming at him for abandoning her in favor of this mad religion he’d embraced?
Thomas faced the lake and scanned the barely visible distant shore. Who was watching from the trees? Mikil and Johan, maybe. But they were powerless without swords. He was amazed to realize he had no fear of this drowning that awaited him. Justin had suffered far worse.
But Chelise . . . dear Chelise, how could she have consigned herself to death with this mad admission of love for him? He didn’t care about the honor it brought him. He didn’t care that she had stood up for principle or that she’d done what was right. He only cared what happened to her.
She would die. Not just in this life, but if he understood Justin, in whatever life awaited them.
Thomas lifted his eyes to the stars. Why? How could you do this to such a tender soul? She isn’t beautiful to you? Her skin offends you? Then why did you put this ache for her in my heart? This is how you will leave your bride?
There was a commotion behind him, and he twisted to see if . . .
Thomas caught his breath. She was there. Chelise walked down the bank between four horses that guarded her. She was dressed in a white gown and she held her head steady, giving no sign that she was the victim rather than the administrator of this drowning.
Thomas searched her face to see if she had seen him, but her hood was raised and her eyes were shaded. The guards parted to receive her.
Thomas saw Qurong then, riding nobly on his horse with a large guard. They came down the shore from Thomas’s right. There was no sign of Patricia.
