by J D Abbas
A tall, swarthy woman leapt from the peak and plummeted through space, dodging the images that swooped toward her like birds of prey just as Elena lost her grip and was pulled into Anakh’s battlefield. The woman landed on the frame. Straddling the edges of the image, she reached into the center and grabbed Elena’s arm.
“Release her!” the woman demanded.
She yanked Elena from Anakh’s grip and pulled her to the outside while Anakh screamed with rage. As the two tottered on the edge of the frame, Elena recognized the warrior who had helped her in the training arena. A surge of confidence filled her.
“Jump,” the warrior called to her as she lunged toward the precipice, holding onto Elena’s arm. She did her best to emulate the warrior’s strength, but when Elena looked down and saw the fathomless depths below them, her confidence waned and she screamed.
As they neared the mountain, Elena started to slip from the warrior’s grasp. Desperately, she reached out with her other hand but couldn’t grab hold of the warrior. Just before they reached the peak, she lost her grip and plunged to the ground. She tumbled down the steep mountainside, picking up speed as she rolled, grasping at underbrush, rocks, anything to stop herself from careening down the incline. Nothing held. Nothing slowed her descent.
A small bush appeared. Elena grabbed for it with all her strength and clung on tenaciously. It tore loose. She continued to tumble, finding nothing else to slow her descent.
Something grabbed the back of her shirt and tugged. Her body jerked painfully. Whatever it was slid with her, and the fabric of her shirt tore. With a growl of protest from behind her, their descent stopped. When she turned, she expected to see the warrior, but instead found Sasha standing over her. Elena scrambled to her knees, sucked in a desperate breath, and threw her arms around the dog’s neck.
“How did you get here, girl?”
Sasha licked her face in response.
Elena laughed, giddy with relief. “I don’t care how you did it. I’m just so glad you’re here.”
She let go of the dog and tried to stand but decided it might be wiser to crawl until she found a flattened place. When she plopped down and took the time to look around, her stomach heaved. Sasha had stopped her just short of a sheer cliff. There was nothing but empty air beyond the edge. Sasha settled next to her, and Elena hugged her.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
After a few minutes, Elena found the strength to stand, glad to feel solid ground under her feet once again. She gazed up at the now empty peak where she had stood with Yaelmargon and the others. Where did they go? They wouldn’t have abandoned her.
Elena began a cautious but determined climb to the top with Sasha by her side. The way was treacherously steep with few footholds. Although Elena struggled, Sasha had no problem, as if she were part goat. It must have taken them over two hours to make the ascent; though once the sun was down, Elena had no way to measure time—if time even passed the same in her inner world.
The darkness around them grew frigid and impenetrable. Just when Elena started to wonder if she’d lost her way, the moon showed its face and confirmed she was on the right course.
When they arrived at the peak, her guardians weren’t there. Elena called for them. No one answered. Exhausted, she dragged her body toward the vestibule door.
It was gone.
Too weary to be afraid or weep, Elena dropped to her knees and stared blankly into the darkness. Sasha sat beside her and licked her ear. Even the dog’s nearness could not stop the despair that crept over her. Time lost meaning as the emptiness enveloped her.
Just when she was tempted to give in to the hopelessness and accept the reality that she was lost inside her mind, a rage rose—a powerful, blinding fury that obliterated all else. She moved to the edge of the precipice and slashed at the images, arms flailing as she screamed out her wrath. The shapes spun and collided as they hurled through the night sky. Somewhere in the background, Sasha yipped frantically.
It was a long while before Elena regained her composure and quieted herself. Throat raw, heart thumping and muscles slack, she slumped to her knees, breathing deeply.
When her mind slowed, Elena heard Yaelmargon’s voice as if from a great distance. “Where is the last eidolon?”
As she looked out over the vast display of images, a hand gripped her shoulder from behind. Relieved the master had returned, she spun around, ready to embrace him.
Standing behind her was the final eidolon.
A muffled scream died in her throat, and the blood drained from her flesh, leaving her icy.
He stood of an equal height with the master, but his form seemed to blend into the shadows, all vapor and blackened bones. “You trust too easily, you puppet.” Though it was Yaelmargon’s voice, the creature’s words rose like smoke through its twisted skeleton of a neck, making a sound like claws scraping metal before it wafted out of the black hole that served as its mouth.
“You? You’re an eidolon?” she said to Yaelmargon, her voice a raspy whisper.
“You did everything I asked without question. Know this as you die”—a translucent, wispy hand grasped her face with surprising strength—“it was your gullible trust and belief in the Jhadhela that killed you.” His malevolent laugh echoed through the vast spaces.
With a vicious growl, Sasha appeared from the shadows and latched onto the eidolon’s skeletal arm, tearing at his bones. The creature let go of Elena’s face and grabbed Sasha’s scruff with his other claw-like hand. He flung the dog from the peak as if she were just a small pup.
“Nooooo!” Elena pulled her dagger and lunged at the eidolon. Her blade clinked against ribs but did no damage.
The creature pushed her back, knocking her to the ground. He picked her up by the neck and lifted her in the air, shoving his shadowy face into hers. “May you be perpetually tormented knowing you destroyed the lives of Elbrion and Haldor as well as your beloved dog.”
Then he tossed her from the peak.
A wail erupted as Elena plummeted through space, a keen of sorrow and despair at Yaelmargon’s betrayal.
While she tumbled, words echoed in her memory: You must master your doubt and not give in to the lies and fear. Over and over the words repeated, becoming stronger each time, demanding her attention.
“Please show me the truth,” she begged of Qho’el. Elena closed her eyes and waited, expecting to smash against the rocks at any moment.
To her surprise, solid ground reappeared beneath her feet. She felt Haldor’s forehead pressed against the back of her head and the hands of her guardians entwined with hers. She opened her eyes, sobbing with relief.
“What did you see?” Yaelmargon asked with concern.
“I want out of here—now!” Elena pulled free of the men and ran through the doorway. Her guardians quickly followed.
“No more!” She slammed the door and locked it.
Then she turned, took two steps, and collapsed on the vestibule floor.
Chapter 58
Elena regained consciousness, slumped over in her chair in Celdorn’s chamber.
When she lifted her head and saw Yaelmargon eyeing her, she recoiled into Elbrion, grabbing for his shirt and clinging. Silently, Elena pleaded for his help as she felt herself shrinking, terrified she would disappear back into her mind.
Elbrion wrapped his arms around her and began to sing. The shifting stopped, but she crawled into his lap, curled into a ball, and buried her face in his chest. Sasha had saved her life and now she was gone—dead or lost in her inner world, she didn’t know which. The ache of the loss shuddered through her body, but Elena refused to let the tears fall. Elbrion stroked her hair and chanted soothingly as she clung to him.
Celdorn squatted next to them, gently kissing her head and waiting. She peeked out at him and shook her head.
“It’s all right, little one; I’ll ask Yaelmargon to tell us what happened.”
The master leaned back in his chair with a frown. “I am able
to relate some of the information, but there are things only Elena saw and felt.” He went on to tell what they had observed after opening the third door in her internal world. “I find myself at a loss as to how to describe it in a way you can understand.” He tugged at his long, white beard, his bushy brows pulled down in concentration. “I have many questions remaining myself.” Yaelmargon turned his gaze back to Elena.
Don’t ask me, she pleaded silently.
A jolt shot through her chest. When she looked up, Haldor was rubbing his own chest and eyeing her with an expectant expression. He eased from his chair and knelt beside her. “May I?” He paused as he moved his hand toward the back of her head. She gave a tiny nod. His massive hand gripped her head, and he closed his eyes. Warmth flooded through her, and she breathed deeply. Then the tears flowed, steadily, relentlessly. Haldor opened his eyes and met her gaze.
“Don’t stop,” she begged. Visions of immense beauty exploded before her: rolling mountains, waterfalls, and wildflowers that filled the scenes with the scent of heather and honeysuckle. Embraced in a sense of nurturing love and profound tranquility, it was like being immersed in all that was good. She had once again stepped into the world she’d visited when she was near death—the one she could only describe as being filled with ecstasy. She didn’t want to return this time.
Haldor pressed his forehead against hers, and they wept together—tears of joy and sweet release. Finally, he pulled back, kissed her brow and removed his hand. “It is always there, Yabéha, just beyond the bounds of our minds,” he whispered.
Elena wiped her tears, moved back to her seat and sat tall. Strength had returned to her body, but she still felt naked without Sasha to cling to. She glanced around at the men. “What do you want to know?”
Celdorn startled, then a warm smile spread across his face, and he cleared his throat. “I’m so proud of you, little one.” Pulling up a chair to join their small cluster, he leaned toward her, his expression more serious. “From what Yaelmargon related, we know the location of four of the eidola. Do you know where the fifth is, and do you know what they are planning?”
Elena studied each of the men in her circle then glanced at those around the table. “I saw a vision of the fifth, but I don’t understand its meaning.” She didn’t want to tell them what she’d seen. What kind of awful person would accuse an Elrodanar elder of being Anakh’s eidolon? And if it were true, what would Yaelmargon do to her or the others if she exposed him?
“Can you relate the vision and perhaps we can help to decipher it?” the master asked.
Elena couldn’t meet his eyes. She stared at the floor for a long while, weighing her decision. In the end, she told them. “I found myself alone on the peak after being delivered from Anakh. Well, not alone—Sasha was with me.” She stifled a sob.
“Sasha?” Celdorn asked.
“Yes. After the warrior saved me, I lost my grip on her and ended up tumbling down the mountainside. I couldn’t stop. Just before I reached a cliff, Sasha appeared and pulled me to safety. We climbed back up to the peak where the others should have been.” Then she turned to Yaelmargon. “Sasha saved my life, and you threw her to her death. How could—”
The pounding of paws and a head thrust between them interrupted her words. A massive tongue licked her face mercilessly.
“Sasha? You’re alive! But-but why weren’t you here when I returned?” Stunned, Elena embraced the dog’s neck. “I’m so sorry. Are you all right?” She pulled back and examined the dog, who appeared uninjured. “I was so sure I’d lost you.”
Celdorn patted Elena’s back. “Sasha had to go outside, little one. That’s why she wasn’t here. That’s all. She’s fine.”
Wrapping her arms around the dog again, Elena buried her face and wept.
“Elena?” Yaelmargon touched her arm, and she recoiled. “I beg your pardon.” He scooted back, his brows bunched. “You believe I pushed Sasha to her death? Why would I do that?”
This time she held his gaze, feeling the bite of her rage return. “I-I don’t know. It didn’t look like you—the person was all shadow and bone—but it sounded like you. You told me I was a fool to have trusted you so readily, then you shoved me from the peak too.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Silvandir step toward her. Celdorn put up an arm to block him and gave a sharp shake of his head. Silvandir’s jaw tensed, and he stepped behind her chair instead, gripping her shoulder.
Yaelmargon arched a brow. “You believe I am one of Anakh’s eidola?”
Elena looked away and focused on smoothing the fur on Sasha’s neck. “Well, no, because as I fell I begged Qho’el to show me the truth. The vision ended, and the three of you returned.”
“So what is your fear?”
“That it’s someone here, close to me,” she whispered. “I saw him nowhere else—only here.”
“But you ran out before you could find the answer,” the master said.
“Then it may only be my fear speaking,” she admitted. “I don’t know. I told you that I didn’t understand the vision.”
Celdorn’s gaze shifted between her and the master, his hands flexing. “Let’s move on from that for the time being. What did you learn of their plans?”
“The two in Penumbra intend to move north. I believe it is to join Anakh and the others at Wharndon.”
“Do you know what happened in Wharndon?” Celdorn asked.
“Balshanor, the castellan there, fell under Anakh’s spell. He led the entire keep into a trap she had set, and his men were murdered, every last one.” Elena felt the weight of the grief that fell over the room. “What we saw was the carnal celebration following their destruction, and Anakh sucking the humanity out of Balshanor,” she added with disgust.
“They have been summoning their followers, amassing a legion to attack Queyon from the south, while the other eidolon will lead his army from the north, sending some by ship and others through the mountains.” Elena stopped, shocked and a little frightened by the insights she had absorbed.
Yaelmargon frowned as he considered her words. “Have these things already taken place or were you seeing a vision of the future?”
“I don’t know.” Her brow wrinkled in thought, her eyes moving, searching. “I assumed they were happening in the present, but I know that in the mass of things swirling before me there were events of the past and those of the future mixed inextricably with the ones of the present.”
“Then it is possible that Wharndon has not yet fallen,” Celdorn said.
Elena shrugged. “It is possible. I wish I could tell you with some degree of certainty. I’m sorry.” She glanced around the circle. “I don’t know how to differentiate.”
“We weren’t expecting mastery, little one,” Celdorn assured her. “Truthfully, I’m rather amazed by how much you were able to discover in your first attempt.”
“Elena, may I ask how you were able to isolate the images containing the eidola out of the thousands that were passing so rapidly before us?” Elbrion asked.
Elena replayed the events in her mind. “It was just a sense I had. I felt their presence in a certain direction then when I reached toward it, the image stopped and opened up.” She shrugged. “I can’t explain any better than that.”
“The fifth eidolon, did you sense him anywhere before you had the vision?”
“No…” Elena looked at Elbrion, her forehead wrinkling again. “Perhaps he is not yet,” she whispered. Then she turned to Yaelmargon. “Does this mean you will be tempted?” She found herself pulling away from him as she spoke the words, and Sasha let out a low growl as if sharing her mistrust.
“I suppose any of us could be tempted, but I have no fear that I will fall,” the master said. “There is nothing she could offer me for which I have need or yearning. I do not seek power or wealth or sexual release. She has nothing to entice me. I would be more tempted by the power to save and to heal, to return the world to Yabwana—which is contrary to Anakh’s very bein
g.”
“The prisoners we interrogated told us that there were currently five eidola,” Haldor said. “I suspect your vision came from Anakh. She wanted to put an end to your search by playing on your fear. And it worked.”
Elena glanced at the master with a flood of relief. “Then I was just being duped…” Her face burned. “You’re right, Haldor, I failed.”
“There is no failure; you did what you were able,” Yaelmargon said. “We all have our weaknesses, dear girl. You have been betrayed so many times by those closest to you that it leaves you vulnerable. Anakh revels in exploiting that knowledge.”
“Sheya, when you focus on the fifth eidolon now, what do you sense?” Elbrion asked.
“He is near, but he’s not Rogaran.” Her face scrunched up. “Though I don’t know how I know that.”
“Could it be Loqarad, the man who attacked you the first time in the keep?” Silvandir stepped around her chair so he could see her face.
She gazed up at him, encouraged by his presence. “But that man was solid, unlike the other eidola.” Her skin crawled as she tried to focus on the image.
“Perhaps he was guised, like your second attacker,” Mikaelin suggested.
“In your training, you were assaulted by one of the eidola,” Elbrion said. “Do you remember?”
Elena shook her head as icy fingers walked up her spine.
“Did Loqarad feel the same inside you?”
Elena flinched then squirmed, feeling like snakes had slithered into her skin again. “It was her, not me.” Silvandir’s grip tightened on her shoulder. She didn’t dare look at him but buried her face in Sasha’s neck.
“She is you, Sheya,” he said gently, putting his arm around her. “You do not have to fear the memories. You are strong.”
“My strength is exhausted, Ada.” She hugged Sasha closer. “Please let me be.”
Celdorn put a hand on Elbrion’s shoulder. “Elena’s right. She’s endured enough for one day. She needs to rest.” To her, he said, “You’ve shown great courage, little one, and done far more than we could have hoped.”
