Behind the Third Door: The Innocence Cycle, Book 2

by J D Abbas

  Kendil used a wide leather thong to tie the man’s hands behind him, and he and Franor lifted him to his feet, none too gently. They led him toward the door with Silvandir following, along with five others he asked to accompany them in case the prisoner attempted to fight or flee—and for his own sake. He was still so enraged, he was afraid he might finish him before they ever reached the dungeon.

  When Elena’s attacker was safely shackled in the cell and guards set in place, he went to Celdorn’s room straightaway.

  Chapter 10

  After leaving the practice arena, Elena stood in the corridor, grasping at the wall, her face locked in a crazed stare. She seemed unable to catch her breath. Mikaelin saw her eyes roll back and reached for her—a moment too late. She hit the ground with a harsh thud. Cursing himself, he scooped her up and carried her the rest of the way to Celdorn’s chamber.

  When they arrived, Celdorn immediately jumped up. “What happened?”

  “We found Elena’s attacker,” Mikaelin replied.

  “Where?”

  “In the arena. He was watching her again.”

  “Is Silvandir with him?”

  “He was confronting him when we left.”

  Celdorn approached Elena, who was still in Mikaelin’s arms. “Are you all right?”

  She shook her head, eyes glazed and unfocused. She cowered into Mikaelin’s shoulder as if she longed to disappear. He set her down in a chair and knelt in front of her. “Elena, you are protected here. We’re with you.”

  The girl’s hollow eyes darted back and forth, and her breaths became quivering gasps. “I can’t stop it.” She squeezed her head and curled into a ball, sobbing.

  Celdorn knelt by her side. “Silothani, little one. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

  Elena’s head snapped up, eyes wild with fear. “I-I’m seeing it. I’m… feeling it,” she gasped. In the same instant, Mikaelin’s body flooded with the echo of her pain. His stomach roiled at the potency of the shared memory. He staggered and dropped into a chair.

  Celdorn’s door burst open and slammed into the wall with a thwack. Elena yelped and scrambled for the nearest corner. Sasha gave a warning bark toward the doorway and followed her. Mikaelin had to work to keep Elena’s terror from pulling him into its depths or he’d be curled in the corner alongside her with Sasha guarding them both.

  Silvandir stood clutching the doorframe as if to contain himself. His jaw twitched and a fire blazed in his eyes. “He’s in the dungeon. With five guards. It’s only by the mercy of Qho’el he made it to that cell. I wanted to rip his buggering head off.” His gestures matched the roar in his voice. He focused his intense gaze on Mikaelin. “Did you see the size of that beast?”

  Elena cowered in the corner, covering her head as a whimper squeaked out. Mikaelin’s belly twisted along with hers. He understood; he’d never seen his friend so incensed.

  Silvandir glanced at Elena. “Zhad!” He closed his eyes, heaved a deep breath, and softened his tone, his muscles quivering with the restraint. “What do you want to do with him?” he asked Celdorn.

  Celdorn squatted next to Elena and laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder, ignoring the warning growl from Sasha, who lay in front of her. “I want to speak with him; but like you, I’m not sure I trust myself not to tear him apart. It would be wise for me to have several of you at my side to temper me.”

  Celdorn turned his attention to Elena. With a combination of coaxing and assurances, he convinced her to return to a chair. Sasha moved with her as if physically attached.

  “You are safe here, little one,” Celdorn reminded her, stroking her face. “I need to leave for a while, but you will be protected while I’m gone. Do not fear.”

  Elena lifted her chin and nodded, clutching the scruff of Sasha’s neck as if to draw upon her strength. Mikaelin knew she wanted to please Celdorn, wanted to be the bold, confident girl she thought he expected, but it was beyond her at this point. No one but Elena thought less of her for it. That, he also understood, he thought with a rueful smile.

  After some deliberation, Celdorn chose Elbrion, Haldor, Shatur and Silvandir to accompany him. Mikaelin, Braiden, Tobil and Dalgo were to stay with Elena.

  Celdorn crouched by her chair again. “We will return soon, Elena. Trust that all will be well.” He kissed her head. Mikaelin was surprised when he felt a twinge of envy at the fatherly gesture, but quickly pushed aside the feeling.

  “Please be careful,” she begged.

  After they were gone, Braiden knelt next to Elena. “Y-you’re trembling. D-do you want to m-move to the fireside while w-we wait for the men t-to return?”

  She nodded but didn’t move, so Braiden attempted to lift her.

  “Don’t touch me!” Elena nearly toppled off the chair in her effort to pull away from him. Sasha skittered to her feet, hackles up, head cocked and ears forward, as if confused but ready to defend.

  Braiden immediately stepped back. “I-I’m sorry, Elena. I-I was just tr-trying to help. C-can you walk on y-your own?”

  She dipped her chin but remained in her seat, her body shaking uncontrollably.

  Mikaelin knelt in front of her. “What’s happening?” Elena’s eyes began to move rapidly from side to side again, the color changing with each pass.

  “I’m seeing him. I’m feeling him… inside me.” She forced out the whispered words while Mikaelin fought the same urgent sensations in his own body. “I… I… need to use the facilities.” She grabbed Mikaelin’s arm, her eyes wide with panic. “Something’s wrong.”

  “Can you walk or do you need me to carry you?”

  “I-I can’t,” she whimpered. “Hurry!”

  Mikaelin scooped her up, and he and Braiden ran down the hall to the bathing room, Sasha trotting behind, unwilling to be left behind. Mikaelin set Elena down inside the garderobe, and the men moved away. They could hear her moaning and sobbing as her body purged, followed moments later by gagging and retching.

  Braiden grabbed a basin and brought it to her. “Y-you look on the verge of c-collapse. Is there anything w-we can do to help?” She must have declined because Braiden moved back without a word.

  Mikaelin was reminded of the days following her attack when she was ill and how her body had reacted, but this time, his gut was twisting along with hers.

  Sasha’s sharp bark, followed by the crash of the basin clattering down the makeshift steps grabbed, Mikaelin’s full attention. He and Braiden found Elena slumped over, unconscious. Braiden attempted to revive her with no success, so Mikaelin lifted her while Braiden fastened her pants. Mikaelin carried her back to Celdorn’s room with Sasha yipping nervously at the girl’s heels.

  As he was about to lay Elena on the bed, she awoke. “No,” she murmured, “not the bed, please, not the bed.”

  Mikaelin sat her in a chair by the fire. Sasha claimed her spot beside Elena and bathed the girl’s hands with her massive tongue. Squatting in front of the chair, Mikaelin brushed the hair from her face. “Please tell us what’s going on. Perhaps we can help.” He cupped her chin in his hand to keep her from looking away.

  Elena focused her gaze on his. “Since… since I saw… him, memories of what he did to me have been coming back… all in pieces: some I see, some I hear, and some I just feel.” She squirmed in the chair, clutching at her belly. Sasha whimpered and snuggled closer. “My body hurts… like it just happened. I feel… pressure. He is… he is… inside me.” She closed her eyes as if that would make it go away. “Make it stop. Please, make it stop.”

  “Elena, he’s not here,” Mikaelin said firmly. “These are memories. This is in your mind. You’re with Braiden and me in Celdorn’s room. Open your eyes.” When she didn’t respond, he shook her chin. “Look at me.”

  Her eyes snapped open and reached toward him imploringly.

  “I understand, Elena. I do. I know what it’s like to have memories return—to feel them in my body. More recently, they have been other people’s, but… but I understand. I felt w
hat he did to you, my friend. I feel it. I’m so sorry,” he added, hesitantly, awkwardly stroking her face.

  “I’m trying to put the pieces together in my mind, but they don’t seem to connect,” she whispered.

  “What are you seeing?”

  “I see him. I-I remember being terrified as soon as he came into my room. I sensed evil in him. I know that I chose to go away when he first touched me, yet I can also see images of me fighting with him.”

  “Fighting with him?”

  Elena’s hand went to the side of her mouth, stroking the skin. “Remember when you told me about the feeling of him… of him in your… mouth, after you healed me?” She struggled for words as she gazed at him; Mikaelin nodded. “I see… the image of me, in that..in that circumstance, fighting to breathe”—Elena gagged as the memory took on life—“and biting him in the process.” Suddenly, her face snapped to the side. “He’s so angry as he rips himself from my mouth.” When she grabbed her cheek as if to hold it together, Braiden paled and sagged to the side.

  Elena suddenly curled into the chair and covered her head. Sasha pulled back from the girl, pacing and yipping nervously.

  “What’s happening?” Mikaelin asked.

  “He’s so angry. He’s going to kill me.” Her head jerked to the side. “He’s hitting me.” Her eyes reached for Mikaelin, pleading. “Stop him,” she begged. “Please!” Her head snapped again. Sasha growled and nipped at the air as if she felt the same presence.

  Mikaelin didn’t know what to do against this invisible enemy. He grabbed both sides of Elena’s face and held tightly. “It’s happening in your mind. He’s not here now.” Sasha yawned with distress and laid her head on her front paws, rear in the air, just before Elena shifted and slipped away into the tiny, shattered child. Mikaelin turned to Braiden, frustrated by his inability to help or console. “What do I do?”

  Braiden wiped his trembling hands on his trousers then scooped up the girl, who had curled into a quivering ball. He cradled her in his arms as he sat down in her chair, gently stroking her hair, assuring her that she was safe now. He sang a beautiful Garan lullaby as he rocked. After a stretch and another anxious yawn, Sasha laid her head on the girl’s legs and focused her black eyes on Braiden.

  Mikaelin was amazed at how the girl relaxed and drifted off to sleep. Braiden held her for a short time then laid her in the chair to rest until Celdorn returned, covering her with a blanket in his own tender, inimitable way. Sasha resumed her guard duty, lying in front of the chair.

  “You’re very good at that,” Mikaelin said.

  “I’ve had m-much practice. I-I have a little s-sister I s-sing to sleep whenever I-I have the op-opportunity.” Braiden gazed down at the girl. “B-being with Elena m-makes me long to see her.”

  The two men sat quietly staring at the fire for some time while Mikaelin worked to gain control over the sensations that continued to buffet his body. He shoved his hands under his arms when he realized how badly they were shaking, afraid Braiden might notice.

  Braiden glanced sideways at him. “M-may I ask you s-something?”

  Mikaelin nodded, his guard immediately rising.

  “El-Elena spoke of you feeling the m-man in your m-mouth.” Braiden paused.

  Mikaelin nodded again, locking his gaze on the flames and stiffening ever so slightly.

  “Wh-when you took on her wounds, d-did you also feel all the attacks that c-caused the wounds?”

  Mikaelin took a deep breath, hoping his voice would remain steady. “Yes. When I first touch someone, it’s as if all the assaults happen at once, in one convoluted, overlapping series of pain. That part passes fairly quickly, though discomfort will linger in certain parts of my body for much longer. But later, different pieces will come back to me as I try to sleep or in quiet moments when I least expect it, for days after. With Elena’s, they keep coming.”

  “Th-that must be difficult. D-does it feel as if you are actually b-being assaulted during those moments?”

  Mikaelin paused to consider. “Yes, because I have the intense sensations in my body and the emotions attached to the event. There is no outside reality, however, and I don’t see images or hear what’s spoken. It’s as if I’m deaf and blind while reliving their traumas—whether it’s being struck, suffocated, or raped. It’s quite unnerving.”

  “S-some of the wounds you t-took on were from vicious assaults. Th-that must be terrifying. I-I don’t know wh-what it’s like to be raped. I-I can’t even imagine those feelings entering into my b-body without context. D-doesn’t it traumatize you?”

  Mikaelin slowly turned his gaze to Braiden and found his innocent face riddled with concern. He weighed how much to disclose. “I have had my own… assaults… to manage,” he replied. “But in many ways these are worse because they’re not mine, and I can’t make sense of them, nor do I have any defenses with which to manage them.”

  “Y-you were sexually assaulted… a-as a child?” Braiden had put the pieces together more easily than Mikaelin had expected. “Th-that explains a great deal about what I-I have sensed in you since El-Elena came to be here. N-no wonder you have been s-so troubled,” he added, almost to himself.

  Braiden opened his mouth as if to say more, but when he glanced at Mikaelin, no words came out. Mikaelin wondered if he looked as horrified and exposed as he felt. He couldn’t stop the violent rush of blood to his cheeks.

  The young healer shifted in his seat and focused on the fire. “I-I didn’t know anything a-about your history. I-I’m sorry for being intrusive and-and speaking too freely. I-I merely wanted to understand what y-you’ve been experiencing, h-how it is you’ve been suffering s-since using your gift. M-my words were bl-blunt and ill-considered. F-forgive me.”

  Mikaelin took a few moments to gather himself. This young man was going to make a great healer one day. “It’s all right, Braiden. I don’t mind.” He eyed him sideways. “I could have avoided answering. Thank you for your concern.” He paused, his eyes fixed on his dusty boots. “Only Elbrion knows anything of my history from being inside my mind, and Dalgo saw some of the physical evidence when he was caring for me in Rhamal. No one else knows.”

  “Not even S-Silvandir?” Braiden couldn’t hide his surprise.

  Mikaelin shook his head. “It’s not an easy thing for a man to tell—for anyone to tell, I suppose.” He glanced at Elena. “Although Elbrion and Dalgo discovered some things because circumstances forced it, I was unable to speak about it with them, and they didn’t compel me.”

  “I-I will keep your confidence, m-my friend. Th-thank you… f-for trusting me.”

  Mikaelin nodded, surprised at himself. It was trust. Maybe he was learning along with Elena.

  Chapter 11

  “I don’t believe he’s been here for years,” Celdorn said as they returned to his chamber. “He’s lying. What would be the purpose of disguising his form from us all this time?”

  After more than two hours of frustrating and fruitless interrogation, the only thing they managed to get out of the beast was his name, Loqarad, which might also be a fabrication.

  “Perhaps he has been sent here to watch us and report any movements we make,” Silvandir offered.

  “To whom? And why?” Celdorn dropped into his chair at the head of the table and kicked the one next to him. “Why should we believe anything he says? He’s toying with us.”

  “Do you think he is Anakh’s puppet?” Shatur asked, sitting in his place.

  “It is possible.” Elbrion walked the length of the table, his light rapidly pulsing. “He has been trained to block any who would enter his mind. He successfully kept me boxed in a small, blank room that showed nothing about him.”

  “Perhaps we should interrogate him again after he has rotted in the dungeon for a time,” Silvandir suggested, rumbling with anger.

  “I do not believe we will get any information from him whether he is confined for a week or ten years. He has neither fear nor conscience.” There was an unchar
acteristic edge to Elbrion’s reply.

  “We could torture him,” Silvandir said with a growl in his voice. “I’d volunteer for that duty.”

  “It is pointless to torture someone who has no soul and will not break,” Celdorn replied, “Unless it is merely to satisfy one’s desire for vengeance.”

  “I’d be agreeable to that.” The smile that spread across Silvandir’s face had a cold twist to it. “Although it would require a great deal to satisfy me.”

  “I must confess, I would derive satisfaction from that as well.” Celdorn rose and stood next to Silvandir, gripping his shoulder. He felt the young Guardian’s fury building, and it fueled his own.

  Silvandir shrugged off his hand. “I’m serious, Celdorn, execution is too easy. “He won’t have to live with the consequences. It seems to me that justice would be better served by relieving him of his manhood and letting him live out his days unable to find release.”

  “And while he rots away in a dungeon, you could have him tended by female guards, whom he can’t have and who hold all sway over his life and treatment. Let him feel what it’s like to be controlled by another,” Shatur added with a sneer.

  “Better yet, someone could beat the life out of him, slice him up, and leave him for the rats.” Silvandir paced furiously, every line of his body spoke of barely contained violence. “He sat there so damn smug, acting as if raping and defiling a woman were no more a crime than stealing a chicken. He nearly killed her, and he felt nothing. Nothing!” The room echoed with the roar of his voice. “I want to make him feel something. I want him to hurt—no, I want him to suffer.”

  ~

  With a woozy, swirling head, Elena awoke, roused by the arguing. Frozen with fear, she stared at the fire, listening to the men’s vehement voices as she tried to piece together what they were talking about and what had happened after she went away. She didn’t rise; she didn’t even look their direction, but as the arguing intensified, her hand moved of its own accord and grabbed for Mikaelin’s, squeezing it with all the intensity of the thoughts she couldn’t express.