by J D Abbas
Celdorn sat back and stretched. “We will break for two hours then decide what we must do with this information.”
~
While Elena rested, Yaelmargon paced on the balcony, an urgency prodding him. He sensed something inside Elena that he could not quite get his mind to embrace. Something he had seen the first time he met her. Something that had tugged at him repeatedly, drawing him closer.
At the same time, he sensed another force at work, veiling the truth, working to elude him. Inside Elena, things were being rearranged repeatedly in an attempt to confuse and distract him. After wrestling for nearly an hour, he decided what he must do.
Yaelmargon entered the antechamber where Elena slept in her chair. Celdorn and Elbrion were with her. Sasha lay in front of Elena as if warning anyone who might approach her girl that they will have to deal with her first.
“I must enter Elena’s world again,” Yaelmargon said without preamble. “And I must do it alone.”
Celdorn studied the master, stroking his beard. “What is your purpose?”
“I cannot answer that.”
“Master, I have great respect for you,” Celdorn said, “but with all that has happened, I will allow no one inside Elena without clear explanation and adequate precautions.”
“I do not require your permission.”
Celdorn stood and faced the master, his hand on the hilt of his dagger. “Yet if you proceed without it, you will have a battle on your hands.”
Yaelmargon sighed. “I do not resist stating my purpose out of some attempt to wrest control from you, Celdorn. If I find what I suspect is there, it is in Elena’s best interest that I tell no one, for to do so would put her in grave danger.”
Celdorn turned to Elbrion. “Advise me.”
“My fatherly instinct tells me that we should allow no one to touch her, but the Jhadhela within me resists that inclination. There are things at stake greater than Elena’s wellbeing as much as it tears my heart in two to say so. Her welfare and the future of Qabara are inextricably joined. I know that with all that I am. If we hinder her destiny in any way, Qabara will fall.”
“You are right in your assessment, Elbrion,” Yaelmargon said. “I will not harm her. My hope is that in gaining knowledge, I may assist in the fulfilling of her destiny.”
“While we are her fathers and her guardians, we are not her keepers,” Elbrion said. “The choice is ultimately hers.”
Celdorn shook his head. “I don’t like this at all, but I do agree that the choice is hers.” He moved toward the chair where she slept and gently shook her. “Elena?” he whispered softly.
The girl opened her eyes and gazed up at Celdorn. Yaelmargon noticed there was no longer any fear when she looked at her ada; she trusted him. The master felt a stab in his heart, knowing he was asking Celdorn to risk breaking that trust.
Celdorn hesitated, swallowing hard.
“What is it?” Elena looked up at Elbrion with questions in her eyes and glanced at Yaelmargon, her brow bunched with confusion.
Yaelmargon knelt by the side of her chair, eliciting a growl from Sasha. He laid his hand on the dog’s head, willing peace between them. “Elena, I would like your consent to enter your mind again.”
Her eyes widened, and he felt her heart rate increase. “I don’t think I’m ready to face another attempt so soon. My strength is depleted.”
“I am not suggesting we enter the third door again. I would like to explore the other parts of your world, but I wish to do so alone. I do not want you to join me.”
Elena’s face went slack. “What do you plan to do?” Sasha’s ears perked up at the distress in the girl’s voice. She rose and laid her head in Elena’s lap, licking her arm.
“I cannot tell you.”
“You want me to allow you to walk around inside my mind unhindered, unescorted, and yet you won’t tell me for what purpose?” She pulled Sasha closer.
“I am not being evasive to frighten you, Elena. I am trying to protect you. I mean you no harm.” He took her hand in his. “I am asking you to trust me.”
~
Elena felt herself falling from the precipice again, shoved by Yaelmargon. Would it lead to her death this time?
Then, as she stared at the master, the images from their time in Yabwana returned. He was the only one who could go to that place with her. He was the only one who understood.
Something inside prompted her next words.
“I choose to trust you.”
Chapter 59
Yaelmargon studied the three doors leading from the vestibule. There was nothing noteworthy about any of them, even the third one, which held behind it such incredible visions and knowledge.
He stood motionless minute after minute, sensing he must wait for direction. Finally, the middle door opened of its own accord. Beyond its threshold lay a dimly lit corridor with a vaulted ceiling and twelve doors on each side; all closed and, he discovered, all locked. An eerie silence surrounded him. He detected people inside the rooms, but there was no movement or noise.
When he reached the end of the corridor, he found a circular staircase cut into the stone, spiraling downward. He descended, singing softly to illuminate his path. The stairs were steep, and he had gone down more than two hundred before he finally saw light below.
At the bottom, he stepped through an archway into an expansive room—no doubt the chamber of torment Elbrion had described. Again, no one was there, and all was quiet. As Yaelmargon explored, he found implements of torture he had never seen before—and hoped to never see again. He shuddered as he walked among the tables, the memory of terror pulsating in the air.
The master stopped in the center of the room and listened to the silence. Elbrion had described screams coming from this place and the wails of children wafting through the hallways. He wondered where everyone was hiding—and why.
Something scraped across the floor above him. Yaelmargon wondered how the sound could travel through so much stone and earth. Puzzled, he returned to the stairway and listened intently as he ascended. After about fifty steps, he stopped and whispered softly. The light that pulsed through his flesh dimmed.
A glow seeped through the cracks surrounding a large stone, originating from some source on the far side of the wall. He put his hands in the center of the slab and pushed. The stone slid inward, and light flooded the stairwell. The opening was small, requiring Yaelmargon to crawl on his belly as he moved through it and into a room that was not much larger. When he rose to his feet, the low ceiling forced him to hunch over. Another entrance stood on the far side of the room, beneath which brilliant light pulsated.
When he moved toward the door, it opened and a woman stepped out, quickly closing it behind her. It was Rhaenna, the internal protector who had appeared in Celdorn’s chamber.
“What do you seek, man of light?” she asked in her guttural voice.
“The truth.”
“Your search for truth nearly destroyed the girl.” Rhaenna gave him an appraising glance, her chin held high. “You dabble in things you have not the wisdom to master, and you put the girl at grave risk. Your impatience threatens to undo all we have worked so hard to accomplish.”
“We?” Yaelmargon looked past Rhaenna. “Who assists you?”
“It is not for you to know, lore master. You have stepped beyond your bounds and now threaten the future of Qabara with your impudence.”
“I am no mere lore master.” Powerful light pulsated outward from him, forcing Rhaenna to step back. “Nor do I dabble. I am entrusted with the mysteries of many races and the secrets that hold Qabara in place.” His voice thundered in the small space as his presence filled the room and drove Rhaenna to her knees. “I, too, am careful what I reveal. You have no idea whom you address with such brazenness, woman. Now step aside.” As his arm swept through the air, Rhaenna’s body slid across the floor.
The door swung open and blinding light flooded the room. The power that throbbed in the brilliance drove
him back and to the ground. He lay prostrate, listening and sensing with his heart, for his eyes were no longer of any use.
“You need not use force, Yaelmargon,” a gentle voice spoke. “The guardian is only doing what she is ordained to do.”
Yaelmargon struggled to make sense of what he was seeing with his internal vision. “I saw you… that first day. I knew I had caught a glimpse of something glorious inside Elena.”
And now you must forget what you have seen and never speak of it henceforth, the woman’s voice whispered in his mind.
“Who are you?”
To have that knowledge would bring death to many. You must leave, and you must take that question with you, never to utter it again. If I did not find you trustworthy, I would destroy you now. I believe, however, that you will do what is right and necessary.
With that, her footsteps retreated into the room and the door closed behind her. Yaelmargon’s vision returned to find only a blank wall before him. He looked around and saw Rhaenna still kneeling on the floor, cowering as she watched him.
“Forgive me,” he said, keeping his voice soft as he rose and helped her to her feet. “I did not understand.”
“Nor did I, master. I am sorry if I have offended.” Rhaenna bowed. “You must leave now. Make certain you retrace your steps exactly. Open no more doors.”
Yaelmargon nodded then crawled out through the opening to the stairwell. Rhaenna pushed the stone back into place. The master climbed the steps, walked through the corridor, then out into the vestibule.
In the foyer, he paused, staring long and hard at the three doorways, then turned and exited through the double doors.
~
Elena was watching Yaelmargon closely when he opened his eyes. He shook himself loose of the trance he’d been in and laid his large hand on her head.
“Forgive me for pushing you so hard. I was a fool.”
She searched his face. “What did you learn?”
“That you have more light in you than I will ever know and a sense of timing and purpose I dare not hinder.”
Confused by his words and troubled because she knew she deserved no such accolades, Elena remained silent.
Yaelmargon turned to Celdorn and Elbrion. “I will be leaving for Queyon immediately.”
Elena suppressed a gasp and rubbed her chest, where a deep ache set in. Yaelmargon was the only one who understood her gifts, and now he was leaving without training her.
“What did you learn?” Celdorn repeated her question with arms crossed and jaw tight.
“I have been humbled. Where I thought I was a master, I learn I am a neophyte. There is so much I have only begun to understand. I can best serve Elena and the rest of you by returning to Queyon and doing what I am called to do.”
Her adai scrutinized the master, their expressions a mixture of doubt and mistrust.
“I told you my visit here would be brief. It is time for me to return.”
“But so abruptly?” Elbrion finally said. “There is still so much we need to learn from you, so much we are just on the edge of comprehending.”
Yaelmargon’s brow creased, his eyes set deep with pain. “I have forced things I should not have. I need to return to Queyon to see what I can do to make reparations.”
“What would you have us do?” There was a tremor in Elbrion’s usually steady voice.
The master stroked his mustache, pulling at the corners of his mouth. Elena noted the quiver he sought to disguise.
“Continue to speak the truth to Elena. Help her to draw on the strengths of all who are inside.” His eyes flashed to her then away. “Tear down the walls carefully. Guard her with the utmost care. But most importantly”—his gaze burned into Elbrion—“do not enter her internal world again. And do nothing with what we learned until you hear from me. To do so will only bring disaster.”
The master tugged at his beard and focused on Elena. “I ask you to trust me, and if you find that impossible, trust the Jhadhela within you. I assure you I move in accord with it.” Yaelmargon put his hand on her head again. “I entrust you to the care of your adai. Learn from their love.” His voice was gentle, his face filled with kindness. When her mouth pulled down into a pout, he cupped her chin. “This is not goodbye, dear girl. I will see you again one day. I know that with all certainty.” He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Ti kara silohanodi, Yaena,” he whispered.
With that, Yaelmargon left Elena’s room, and within the hour, Kelach, never to return.
Chapter 60
“I’m troubled as I stand before you now,” Celdorn confessed to the council when they reconvened. “Yaelmargon has departed for Queyon with little explanation—”
“With no one accompanying him?” Zarandiel interrupted. “The roads aren’t safe with Anakh and the other Rahima on the loose. Wouldn’t they just love to catch him alone?”
“He is safer than a battalion of fifty Guardians would be,” Elbrion said evenly. “Do not fear. The Jhadhela is ever his guardian.”
Zarandiel harrumphed and settled back into his chair, tugging on his curly beard, looking none too pleased.
“Before he left, Yaelmargon asked that we do nothing with the information we uncovered through Elena’s internal world until we hear from him. He also instructed us not to push for further revelation at this time.”
“So we are to ignore the news about Wharndon and the eidola?” Charaq asked.
“For now,” Celdorn replied. “I trust that Yaelmargon gave us these instructions for our own protection and Elena’s.”
“But, Celdorn, you know as well as I that Yaelmargon doesn’t believe in the power of the sword and would never advise us to take up the call to arms,” Zarandiel said.
Charaq chewed on his lip before blurting, “Are we supposed to wait around expecting the Elrodanar council to move things with the Jhadhela? Well, hesitating cost us the lives of Borham and his family. I’m done with sitting around impotently and letting this evil take more innocent lives.” He blanched and ducked his head. “Sorry, Lord Protector, I was out of line.”
“Be at peace, Charaq.” Celdorn rose and walked the length of the table. “I would be inclined to agree with you, my friend, if it were not for a deep foreboding that warns me not to deviate from the master’s instructions. I sense someone is watching for our movement, waiting for us to expose our underbelly. We will give them no such opportunity.”
“I bow to your judgment,” Charaq conceded, though his hands clenched into fists.
Mikard shifted restlessly on the edge of his chair. “At the very least, we must do something about the children.”
“I agree,” Charaq said. “We have over two hundred children to consider, if my count is right.”
Zarandiel scratched his beard. “We need to get them as far from Penumbra as possible. And if the Qadhar doesn’t want to move outside Queyon to help address these problems, then I suggest we bring the problem to them.”
The pulsing of Elbrion’s light intensified. “The council is not indifferent, Zarandiel. They see the pursuits of the mind as more effectual in changing our world than rushing into battle. It is not—”
Zarandiel held up his hand. “I know. And I beg your pardon, Prince Elbrion. I’m tired and grumpy. I meant no offense to you.” He stood and stretched his large frame. “This situation with the children is like a festering sliver. It irritates and gnaws at you until you’re like to burst.”
Celdorn studied his mentor. “Although prompted by frustration, your idea has merit. Perhaps Queyon would be the best haven for these orphans. You can’t get much farther from Penumbra.”
The large man cracked his neck. “My company could escort the children when we return to Marach.”
“If Mikard and I each sent a unit, there would be enough Ilqazar so no one need walk,” Charaq added.
Zarandiel’s head bobbed approvingly. “We could get the little ones to safety in no time at all. And Queyon’s healers could set to work on them.”
Silvandir agreed.
Celdorn glanced around the table. “How soon can we be ready?”
The leaders conferred. In the end, they decided to meet at the Flatland Road in three weeks’ time.
~
Elena, with Sasha by her side, stood in the bailey and watched as the visitors from Greenholt and Dussendor prepared to depart Kelach. Celdorn told her they were returning to their strongholds to gather the rescued children in order to transport them to Queyon. The men from Marach would wait three weeks then join them in the valley to escort the caravan.
“My lady?” a soft voice spoke from behind her. Sasha let out a low growl and pressed into Elena’s thigh.
She turned to find Keymar, red-faced, eyes fixed on Sasha as if afraid to move closer.
“If I may, I-I wanted to speak with you one last time, to tell you how sorry I am—”
Elena held up her hand to stop him. “Keymar, we’ve already settled—”
“No, my lady, please hear me out. I know you graciously forgave me for my rash and foolish words, and for that I’m grateful, but it doesn’t take away the pain I feel in my heart. I’m so sorry for all you’ve suffered, and how I added to it.” He swallowed hard, and Sasha eased her guarded stance. “And… and I wanted you to know that I volunteered to escort the survivors we found in our region to Queyon. It is my way of making amends… to you.” His blush deepened as he twisted the end of his tunic with his hands.
“You owe me nothing. Please don’t feel obligated.”
“No, I want to do this. I have nothing left in Dussendor anyway.”
When Elena saw the depth of sorrow in his eyes, she clasped his arm. She knew what it was to be alone and understood his need to find a sense of purpose. “Safe journeys to you then. Perhaps Queyon will be a haven for you as well. I hear it is an amazing place.”
