Behind the Third Door: The Innocence Cycle, Book 2

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Behind the Third Door: The Innocence Cycle, Book 2 Page 29

by J D Abbas


  The master bent low and raised Elena to her knees. “You need not fear me.” He knelt in front of her and lifted her chin. His eyes were the gray of waters under a stormy sky, fathomless, timeless—terrifying. “I do not come to oppose you, but to assist you, Elena.” His touch was as light as a butterfly’s and his resonant voice amazingly gentle for such a giant of a man.

  When she met his piercing gaze, she felt utterly exposed with no place to hide. She covered her face and bent to the ground again, cowering in shame.

  The master gripped her arms and lifted her once more, moving her hands aside. “Yes, I see and I know.” He nodded slightly as he held her gaze. “And my vision goes beyond. All I see I hold sacred. Do not be afraid.”

  As he spoke the last words, he placed his hand on the back of her head. She felt a surge of heat spread from her head to her feet, giving her the strength to stand.

  “I am honored to meet you, Elena, for to stand in the presence of a Rahima is a rare gift.” He took her hand and touched it to his forehead.

  Puzzled, she continued on to her seat, directed and steadied by Elbrion. The master had spoken something else—something her ears couldn’t hear, and her mind couldn’t comprehend—something she desperately wanted to understand.

  “In time…” the master said and smiled broadly. Elena decided he didn’t look nearly as intimidating when he did so.

  The unfamiliar men around the table exchanged puzzled glances and stared at her as if she were the strange creature, not this light-infused-star-come-to-earth. She focused on Celdorn, who encouraged the men to take their seats. Elena was all too happy to collapse into hers. Sasha sat beside her, laying her head in Elena’s lap, a now-familiar and welcome presence.

  “If this influx of visitors persists, we will soon need to gather in the Great Hall for our private councils,” Celdorn said with a grin.

  “My friends, today is a day to be remembered and recorded in the annals of history, for never in this century has an Elrodanar master been seen beyond the borders of Queyon, much less this far south. Yaelmargon has graciously traveled a great distance to be with us; his purpose, as yet, known only to him. Be welcomed, Master. We are at your service while you are in Kelach.” Celdorn gave a half-bow toward him.

  “We also welcome my mentor and friend, Zarandiel, the castellan of Marach, and his most trusted advisors, who have likewise journeyed far to bring us much needed reinforcements and wisdom.

  “Preceding you here by a day,” he said to Yaelmargon and Zarandiel, “were Mikard and his men from Dussendor, who have traveled with heavy hearts. We will speak more regarding that later.

  “I believe you all know Elbrion and my traveling companions.” He motioned toward Haldor, Tobil, Braiden and Dalgo. “As well as those I most trust here at Kelach,” he added, indicating Silvandir, Mikaelin and Shatur.

  “For those of you who have not yet been introduced to her, this is Elena.” Celdorn gave her an encouraging smile as he gestured toward her. “She is from the Wallan Valley and is the one referred to in the missives that were sent out.”

  Celdorn’s face grew serious. Elena held her breath and clung to Sasha. Her ada seemed to measure his words before continuing. “I proceed with this council with my own heart deeply troubled.” He paused and took a drink of his wine. “Much has happened in the last few hours. Things to rejoice over,” he said, glancing at Yaelmargon, Zarandiel and Keymar, in turn, “and things to grieve.” He looked down.

  Elena laced her fingers together, encircling Sasha’s neck, as the blood rushed to her cheeks. Sasha wiggled free when Elena’s hug grew too tight. She let go and shook out her arms, taking a deep breath.

  “Although it’s embarrassing and painful for Elena, I need to discuss something openly because, as I mentioned in our earlier meeting, I believe we are under an attack of a most unusual kind.” Celdorn took a deep breath and glanced at her before laying her bare. “During our recess, Elena was assaulted again, in a room not far down this very corridor.”

  There was a deep rumble around the table as the men glanced at her then away, her humiliation on full view for them to gawk at. The room warped and swayed.

  “This is the second time she’s been violated within this keep. It shouldn’t have happened once, and it’s appalling that it has happened again.”

  Elena closed her eyes and grasped the arms of her chair, longing to be any place other than in this room but working not to shift in front of all these strangers. Celdorn put his hand on top of hers, which gripped the chair so strongly her fingers lost color.

  “She was assaulted by someone who came to her in the guise of one of our most noble Guardians, one whom she was learning to trust and count as a dear friend. This was a most grievous wound for both of them.”

  Elena stole a glance at Silvandir, and though his hair hid much of his face as he stared down, she could see his cheeks were on fire like hers. The other men were looking at one another as if wondering about whom Celdorn spoke.

  “Obviously, for Elena it was devastating, but also for the one who is heartbroken over being accused of such a despicable crime.” Celdorn hesitated again, and Elena saw Elbrion dip his chin. “I’m sorry, Silvandir, but I am going to expose you at this point because we need to deal with the truth—which will come out anyway—and you must be vindicated.”

  Silvandir put his head in his hands.

  “Someone was able to take on Silvandir’s form and present himself convincingly enough that Elena could not see through the guise. Silvandir was outside the keep with Mikaelin at the time and could not possibly have been with Elena.

  “Also, for those not here earlier, an event happened with Keymar during the same break. Apparently, his mind was under attack from some outside force as well, appearing in his internal world as his deceased mother. This apparition was encouraging him to destroy himself.”

  All eyes locked on Keymar; he reddened and hung his head.

  “Then we have the incident during the funeral rite: the lionesses who appeared in Elena’s mind attempting to kill Elbrion and her, and who are now moving around outside the keep. We are up against a diabolical enemy; one whom I believe wishes to destroy us from the inside.”

  Celdorn’s jaw tightened. “It’s an insidious plan, meant to cause division, strife and discord.”

  He paused as if to let his words take hold. “I want each of you to examine your own heart. Where do you sense mistrust and suspicion at this moment? Who are you questioning? Who do you doubt? These misgivings are the seeds of destruction for us all.” He stared at each of the men as if searching their minds, examining their hearts. “We must unearth them quickly, before they take root.”

  The room was silent as each of them considered Celdorn’s questions. Elena took his words to heart, troubled because all she could find within herself were doubts and suspicions.

  Zarandiel glanced at Silvandir then said, “Celdorn, may I ask how someone could guise himself as Silvandir so convincingly in the full light of day and not be found out?”

  “You and your men are at a disadvantage, Zarandiel, not having had the benefit of our previous discussions,” Celdorn replied. “We’ve learned that Elena is a descendant of a race of people who have the ability to take on the form of another. Though we don’t understand it, we have seen examples of this in the last few weeks. It is our suspicion,” he nodded toward Elbrion, “that it was Anakh, the leader of the few survivors of this race, or one of her eidola who attacked Elena.”

  Elena swayed in her seat and gripped Sasha’s scruff again. The thought of Anakh—or any of her kind—spewing their twisted seed into her body made her ill. Elbrion, who sat to her left, put his hand on her head, whispering in Elnar. Elena noticed Silvandir watching her. He looked worried… and so sad.

  “Master, perhaps you can explain more clearly,” Celdorn said.

  “Originally, this gift was intended to assist the Rahim and Rahima in hiding from their enemies. They used the ability to change to inanim
ate forms, such as a rock or a tree, that would go unnoticed by those who pursued them,” Yaelmargon replied. “Ironically, they have now become the hunters and use this power to entrap and destroy.”

  Silvandir straightened in his seat, his eyes wide as he listened.

  “How they are able to shift is somewhat of a mystery,” he continued. “Their energy, which appears to be entwined with their human form, as with most other creatures, is, in reality, beyond the bounds of the material world. This energy can take up residence in any form that already exists, such as another person’s body or a rock, or it can replicate any shape it chooses when that person or thing is not present to enter. It may even exist outside any vessel for a short time, as when a material form is destroyed and a new host is not yet found.”

  “We were also told,” Elbrion said, “that there are those among the Alraphim that have permanently absorbed the energies of others, intensifying their own powers. Is that correct, Master?”

  “Yes, it is my understanding that there are only seven Rahima from the ancient days who remain, having assimilated the zhadhar or life energy, of all the others.”

  “But more children continue to be born,” Celdorn interrupted. “What about them?”

  “Evidently, the Rahima go on reproducing in order to increase their power. The younger ones are given time to develop their gifts before they are absorbed. The longer they exist, the greater their zhadhar, making it desirable to allow them to continue autonomously for many years.”

  “Master, how do they continue to reproduce when there are no Rahim remaining, only the females?” Haldor asked.

  “It seems that in the greed to dominate, a grievous error occurred: the females, who are the more powerfully gifted, eliminated the males, forcing them to rely on males of other races to use as conduits for impregnation purposes. Having absorbed the males, the Rahima contain both the male and the female seed. They require only a means to bring them together. Two Rahima are capable of entering a male and female of another race. They begin the reproduction process, provide the seeds, then exit the vessels, leaving the female to gestate until delivery, at which time they reclaim their offspring.”

  Elena’s mouth dropped open. She stared at Yaelmargon, horrified by his words. “Are you saying I’m nothing more than some force or mass of energy that appears to be human but is not? Wh-who was inserted into a woman’s body and is now in the process of being reclaimed?” Elena wanted to throw up. “And that… and that they have used me to gestate more of their seed… to perpetuate their evil?” She felt frantic, trapped; her eyes darted from man to man. Sasha snuggled closer.

  “No, Elena, that is not what I am saying,” Yaelmargon replied, his voice even, calm.

  Elena stood up and backed toward the balcony door; Sasha moved with her. “You’re lying. None of this is true. I’m a person!” She glanced behind her to make sure no guards were there. “I’m not some diabolical creature sent here to destroy you. I’m a person! A person!” Her back bumped against the door, and her hand searched behind her for the latch as she kept her rabid gaze fixed on the men.

  Yaelmargon stood and moved toward her in spite of Sasha’s warning growl. “Of course you are a person.” He held out his hands in a conciliatory gesture, as if calming a skittish foal.

  Elena stared up at his nearly seven feet of pulsating brilliance, terrified. Sasha barked at the master, lips curled in warning. With each step he took toward her, Elena felt herself shifting—fire replaced fear, and she was gone.

  Chapter 41

  Celdorn rose when the shift started, but it happened too fast. Elena didn’t diminish this time, but aged and darkened instead. While Sasha barked nervously by her side, Elena’s form grew taller and more sinewy; her flaxen hair transformed to ebony. When she turned her steely gaze onto Yaelmargon, she calmly held up a hand. The gesture drove the master back several feet and froze him in place. As long as her hand was raised, he remained paralyzed.

  Celdorn felt a wave of fear sweep around the table and heard whispered exclamations as the men realized this young woman’s power was controlling the master. Sasha stopped barking and bent her head low, yawning with distress.

  “You speak of what you do not comprehend, man of light,” the woman said, her voice throaty and deep. “You offend and drive away the very innocence you should be protecting. Do you not know your place or your duty?”

  A few of the men gasped, shocked by the insolence, the audacity of this woman. Even Celdorn was surprised by the way she spoke to an Elrodanar master.

  “You are correct,” Yaelmargon responded. “I was dispelling information without thought to its effect on the girl. I beg your pardon,” he added humbly, bowing. “You must teach us how to assist you.”

  “Those of whom you speak are near. Innocence must be protected, do you understand?” Her crystalline eyes penetrated to his core, searching out the man, weighing his heart. “The dark pulls them closer. I cannot remain here.”

  “Wait, before you go, what is your name?”

  She studied him but didn’t reply.

  “How can we call for you if we require your assistance?”

  “Rhaenna,” the woman replied evenly. “That is what I am named. But if I come, so will they. You need not call for me. I am watching.”

  With that, Elena’s form lightened and her frame shrank to its normal size, even as the others watched in stunned silence. Then, she crumpled. Her head hit the stone floor with a sickening thud. Sasha ran to her side and tenderly bathed her face.

  Yaelmargon, now free to move, knelt next to the unresponsive girl. He chanted as he laid his hands on her shoulders, his voice soothing and sedate. Light engulfed her body as the valley of Queyon appeared in vision before them. Sasha yelped and dashed to Celdorn’s side, where she stood shivering as he watched, mesmerized by what he was seeing. The master carried Elena’s limp form to the pool at the foot of the waterfalls of Ellisia and immersed her in its sanative flow.

  When Elena began to wake, the master removed his hands from her, and the vision immediately faded. She stared up at Yaelmargon, her eyes filled with fear. She propped herself up on one elbow and looked around, a frown forming. “What happened?”

  “I am deeply sorry, Elena,” the master said, his brow lined with concern. “I have wounded your heart and offended you when my intent was to encourage and strengthen you. Forgive my arrogance in the spouting of knowledge. This is a snare for all sages and masters of lore, I am afraid; I should know better.” He spread his hands, palms up, and gave a shrug.

  Elena didn’t respond. She glanced around as if searching for something. “Ada?” she whispered, sounding like she might shift into the child at any moment.

  “I’m here, little one,” Celdorn assured her as he knelt by her side and helped her to sit up. She curled into his chest and started weeping. Sasha joined them on the floor, nudging Elena’s arm with her nose.

  “Did I become small?” she whispered between sobs.

  “No, but you did shift.”

  She pulled back and stared at him, fear replacing the shame. “What did I become?”

  “You were older and darker,” he replied. “It seems she was some sort of protector who lives inside you.”

  A sob squeaked out. “I don’t understand.” Sasha snuggled closer, licking Elena’s hands.

  “It’s all right, little one. We don’t need to make sense of it now.” As Celdorn stroked her head, he found a large bump forming where she’d hit the floor. He lifted her in his arms and felt despondency flood her body. “Do you want to go into the other room and rest?”

  She nodded.

  As Celdorn stood, Yaelmargon said, “Before you leave, I would like to say something to Elena that I want everyone to hear.”

  She grabbed handfuls of Celdorn’s tunic and clung to him. “I’m shifting, Ada.”

  “Hold on, little one. Let him speak. It’s important.”

  “Elena, you are a person—not a mass of energy or a foreign en
tity—but a person of great worth and purpose, and I never meant to imply otherwise.” The lore master’s voice was strong, certain. “You are a treasure that has graced this earth, created to be a conduit of the Jhadhela and a force of healing and restoration.

  “Whatever those before you have done, you have a different destiny. I laud your courage and clearly see your innocence and virtue—things to which you are blinded. My eyes see what yours cannot, and my heart knows with certainty what yours cannot begin to fathom. I offer my life in service to you until you arrive at the truth.” He bowed humbly toward her.

  Elena was small by the time he finished, but from the safety of Celdorn’s arms, she reached out her tiny hand toward Yaelmargon. The master stepped closer, and she laid her palm against his heart.

  “Brachiamana,” she whispered.

  Yaelmargon’s body shook as light exploded outward from his chest to his limbs with such force it thrust him back and to the ground.

  No one spoke. No one moved. A sense of awe swept over the room.

  The master cocked his head and smiled toward the girl. “I believe I understand.”

  Chapter 42

  Elena slid her eyes open and glanced around without moving. She was on Elbrion’s bed, but she didn’t know how she’d gotten there or how long she’d been gone. When she tried to sit up, her head pulsed with pain. She groaned and covered her mouth as nausea swept over her.

 

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