A Chosen Life

by K. A. Parkinson

  Chapter Seventeen

  Friends?

  Tolen’s breath came out in a loud whoosh; he wiped the sweat off his face with his good hand, and dropped into the tiny chair.

  “I can’t do it.”

  “You are making it more difficult than it should be.” Kiad circled around Tolen, his steps agitated. He didn’t have the same accent as the other Doogar down here; he had obviously spent time among humans. From his brisk, no-nonsense attitude and shaved head, Tolen had to wonder if his human friends had been drill sergeants.

  “I’m trying.”

  Kiad stopped in front of him, put his hands on his hips, and stared up into Tolen’s face. Kiad’s eyes weren’t the shiny black of Helga or Hander, they were the same muddy brown as Dane’s.

  Tolen swallowed loudly.

  “We need a different tactic, something smaller, less difficult . . . ” Kiad tapped his temple. “Heal your hand.”

  Tolen looked at his bandaged hand and back to the little man. “Um, that’s not easy.”

  Kiad thumped him on the thigh. “Yes it is. Do you remember the word?”

  “Lon’adras?”

  “Yes! What do you feel?”

  “Nothing.” There was no burn in his fingertips, nothing compared to what he’d felt when he healed Macy.

  Kiad scratched his head. “Each gifted Being has to learn to connect to their life force on the conscious level. You are not finding the connection. You found it out there while you were fighting, when you healed the girl, when you asked the trees to stop the bullies. You must look deeper. Your trigger is there. Find it.”

  Tolen clenched his jaw and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Why couldn’t he do it? It had just come to him those other times—like instinct, so simple. He hadn’t had to do anything. But now, concentrating as hard as he could it wouldn’t come. He closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose, thinking back.

  When Jeff was threatening Dane, Tolen had only felt a strong desire to keep Jeff from beating up his friend and the trees had reacted. He hadn’t asked them to do anything. Whether Kiad believed him or not, that hadn’t been him. With Macy, it was different, in his mind he’d been screaming, begging anyone to come and help. He’d felt Ardia and called to her, he’d felt the other trees and called to them, he’d called to everything he could feel out there, and then it just happened.

  The physical pain caused by the image of her broken and lifeless body had nearly dropped him to the ground. His only thought after that had been to get to her. He couldn’t remember anything else.

  Kiad walked away to talk to a younger female who came in. Bits of their conversation filtered back to him. It seemed they were talking about Macy.

  A tiny bit of warmth zinged through his fingers. He looked down at his hands. What?

  “ . . . she’s not healing as quickly as we hoped.” He heard the woman say, and the warmth in his fingers increased.

  The more they talked about Macy’s healing the more heat surged into his fingers. It seemed that empathy was his trigger, which kind of made sense.

  He focused on his concern for Macy. His hopes that she would make a full recovery. She’d been fun to talk to and she knew a lot. She’d be a good help to him as he trained.

  The growth of the warmth was slower than when he’d been terrified for Macy’s life. It took quite a while for it to feel like it would actually do anything. He felt his eye dilate behind his closed lid. His heart seemed to swell with inexplicable peace and then it trickled down to his fingertips. He lifted his good hand and ran it over his injured arm.

  “Lon’adras,” he whispered, and he felt the skin knitting itself back together beneath the bandage. It was painful, but the strange, peaceful warmth kept it from being excruciating as it moved along the broken lines of the bones in his hand, shifting them back into place. The Doogar had set it as best they could, but it had not been perfect. It was now.

  The warmth slowly faded as the healing finished. Tolen pulled off the bandage—there wasn’t a single indication of his injury. Not even the hint of a scar.

  Kiad slapped Tolen on the shoulder and he jumped. He hadn’t noticed the little man’s return. “Good job. Don’t stop. Focus on what you felt. The power. Sense it as it surrounds and moves out from your body. Call it back in and hold it there.”

  Tolen put his head into his shaking hands. He was so tired. And it wasn’t power, it was warmth. There was no other way to describe it. He focused on bringing the warmth he could feel surrounding him back inside. He could feel it pulling against him, like it wanted to be free—like it was too big to be contained in his body.

  “Yes! Yes! Like that!” Kiad exclaimed.

  Tolen fell out of his chair, the breath whooshed out of his lungs, and lights danced in front of his eyes.

  “Good job!” Kiad knelt on the ground beside him. “Take a few deep breaths. You figured out how to pull it in, now you have to work on keeping it there. With much practice it won’t be so hard. Wait here. I’ll bring you something to help.”

  Kiad left the room and Tolen rubbed his eyes with his fists.

  Six hours later, Tolen was back in the infirmary absentmindedly rummaging through his pack. He was tired from working with Kiad, but felt restless. They’d told him his dinner would be brought to the infirmary where he would be more comfortable, and so he was stuck here again. Waiting. He shuffled through his meager possessions and pulled out his only other set of clothes. Kiad had promised him a chance to clean up after dinner.

  His hand brushed across something stiff and he lifted out the picture of his father holding him. His hands trembled and he shoved the picture back in his bag. He dropped back onto the row of beds and lifted the shard in his fingers. It was a beautiful thing, really. The light from the Binithan danced off its surface, giving it a golden hue, but just beneath, it glowed softest blue. He felt a kinship toward the shard—not long ago it had been in his father’s hands.

  A strange tugging sensation in Tolen’s stomach seemed to draw his attention to the opposite side of the room where Macy and Bastian slept.

  Bastian’s head appeared out of the curtains. He peeked back at Macy before walking over to take the stool he’d only recently vacated.

  “You had enough sleep?” Tolen asked.

  Bastian nodded and his cheek lifted in a half smile. He pointed to the shard in Tolen’s fingers. “You are feeling the link that binds you and Macy together as Chosen. It will become less noticeable the longer you wear the shard. After a time you will have to concentrate to feel the pull. But it will guide you to me or any member of the Chosen that you seek to find.”

  Tolen dropped the shard beneath his shirt. “You said I should never take it off. Does that mean like, ever?” He pictured having to wear it all the time. He really wasn’t much of a jewelry fan, not to mention it would get in the way in the shower.

  “A Radia Shard is a very valuable gift Tolen; one that should never be taken lightly. If it were to fall into the wrong hands, the consequences would be dire.”

  Tolen looked back at Bastian. “Dire, how?”

  Bastian’s smile faded and he cleared his throat. “Within every Being lies the potential for greatness. But that greatness remains latent until the individual discovers their own possibilities, talents, and gifts through their experiences. A Radia shard can see the potential within its bearer before the bearers sees it within themselves. It takes that potential and magnifies it beyond imagining. Watchers were given the job of protecting and taming the shards because of our abilities to sense with such accuracy the variations in the Balance. We always know when something sinister is after the shards.”

  Bastian lifted his own larger shard from beneath his shirt and twisted it in his fingers. “You see, Tolen, the shard only senses greatness, it does not determine between good and evil. It is an object of power that can be used for both
purposes. Can you imagine for a moment that power magnifying the strengths of creatures as inherently evil as the Raksasha—or any of the other monsters you have not even met yet, whose evil exceeds that of the Raksasha so greatly, that it is like comparing the strength of a kitten to that of a mountain lion?”

  The shard seemed to heat up against his skin with the warning, as if confirming Bastian’s words. Tolen was seized with the sudden desire to give the shard back to the Watcher. He looked up to see Bastian watching him closely, and his blue eye started to burn and itch.

  “Bastian?”

  “Yes?”

  “Why does my eye freak out when I look at you? It doesn’t do it all the time, just once in a while.”

  Bastian took a deep breath and his thick eyebrows drew together. The look made Tolen think the Watcher was deciding how much to tell him.

  “Remember our conversation about the Dreamers? I told you that when your body feels a strong emotion, your life force reacts through your gifts. Because you have been taught to fear and hide your gifts—”

  “I go into sensory overload. My anger channels into my abilities.”

  “Yes. You have been subconsciously holding your gifts back. Your eye knows what it can do and when it recognizes me as a fellow Watcher, it reacts.”

  Tolen rubbed his eye. “What is it supposed to do?”

  “What does it do for you now?”

  “Sometimes it brightens or sharpens images that are far away and sometimes when I look at you, it’ll burn and pictures will flash really fast across it, but I can’t tell what they are, and in the Lava Beds . . . I saw—well, I swear I saw Macy—”

  “You saw into Macy’s future when she was being held by the Phantom tree.”

  “Yeah.”

  Bastian stretched his arms above his head. “Macy told you a little about my race, did she not?”

  “She said it’s a group of ancient men who are responsible for guarding the Radia Shards and finding the Chosen.”

  “Yes, that is correct. Watchers have abilities no other race has. Our eyes link us to one another, we can see what other Watchers see when the need arises, if we allow each other in. We also have what we call our Second Sight, which allows us to sense the needs, emotions, actions, and thoughts of our Chosen wards. This extra sense gives us deep personal knowledge about our wards. It makes it almost easy to deduce what their next thoughts and actions will be. Second Sight, coupled with the ability of all Hidden kind to sense the shifts in the Balance, whether the cause of the shift is good or evil, can give a Watcher time to plan for what may be coming.

  “We are not always correct, the future shifts every second with even the most infinitesimal decisions. Therefore, no one can actually tell the future. Watchers simply have more information to speculate on future events relating only to those for whom they are responsible,” he tipped his head, “with almost complete accuracy.” There was no arrogance in his tone.

  Tolen sat up straighter. “But I saw what was going to happen to Macy. I saw it like a real memory, like it had already happened. It wasn’t a guess. I knew she was going to be killed.”

  “That is how Second Sight works, Tolen. You see the outcome as it will happen based on the choices and emotions affecting the Balance at the current instant. But your actions shifted that future. Macy was not awake and making decisions. The Phantom was making the decisions. But her life force was aware of what was happening; it could feel what was happening to her body even if her mind was not conscious enough to process it.”

  Tolen kneaded his forehead. “That’s intense.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “You said Watchers only see for their wards. Does that mean I’m somehow responsible for Macy?”

  “That is a complicated question Tolen, one I am not quite ready to get into yet. For one thing, you are very tired and it is bound to be a very long conversation. You have a lot to learn still. I will help you acquire the skills necessary for you to use and understand your Watcher’s eye, but for now, it is more important for you to learn to shield yourself. I can sense your agitation. I think we should continue our conversation when we have both had more rest.” Bastian stood and stretched.

  Tolen nodded without regret. In truth, he was fine to leave the whole watching the future thing to later. It was a little huge. Instead, he thought of something else he’d like answered before the Watcher left.

  “Why is Macy nice to me one minute then bites my head off the next?”

  Bastian smiled at the change in conversation. “Macy is an amazing individual, with a rather tragic past. You have already guessed how her parents were murdered. The Shadows killed them the day she was chosen. I did not reach her fast enough—”

  “But didn’t her parents have gifts? I mean, why couldn’t they fight them off?”

  Bastian folded his arms across his chest, opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, and blew out a resigned breath. “Macy is human.”

  “What?” Irrational disappointment burned through Tolen’s chest.

  “Macy is not from the Hidden race. The Radia Shards give all the Chosen their unique gifts, the ability to see servants of the Dark, as well as enhance their life force’s natural ability to sense the subtle changes in the Balance—”

  “Wait. You mean human Chosen . . . ”

  “The Chosen are all human.”

  Tolen’s stomach dropped. “Except for me.”

  “Yes.”

  A sick realization pulled Tolen out of his dark thoughts. “Macy’s parents couldn’t fight off the Raksasha and the Shadows because they couldn’t see them.”

  Bastian shifted his feet. “Yes. Her parents were blind to what was happening around them—paralyzed by the immense Fear they could feel, they could not even try to fight back . . . ” He took a shaky breath. “I am certain you can understand how the loss of her parents would make Macy emotionally distant. She does not let people in, she does not trust easily, and she does not forgive.”

  He nodded at Tolen as he continued. “You, however, are the opposite. You are likeable and naturally kind. Although not ideal, you have had some semblance of family life. You grew up with a mother who loved you and doted on you. You had a loyal and caring friend . . . ”

  Bastian paused. Tolen was sure he sensed how difficult it was for him to hear about his mother and Dane. But it was true. He had had a loving mother and an incredible friend.

  Macy had not.

  “But Macy had you. At least she never had to wonder who or what she is.”

  “True, but she has not experienced a normal human life since her sixth birthday. I love her like she is my own flesh and blood, but I am not a parent—I am not capable of offering the same kind of love that comes from those blessed with that title. I am her Watcher, guardian, caregiver, teacher, and trainer. I have taught her the deep secrets of our origins, the truth of the Light and the evils of the Dark. I have taught her to fight and destroy Dark creatures. I have had to tell her stories and legends that would terrify the strongest of humans. I never read fairy tales with princesses or knights in shining armor to her and then tucked her into bed with a kiss on the forehead. I was never able to sooth her after a nightmare with words like ‘it was only a dream.’ I had to tell her the truth.”

  Bastian’s regret pierced through every word. Tolen could not doubt the love he felt for Macy—Bastian might not believe he deserved the title father, but Tolen disagreed. In this area, he was envious of Macy.

  Ironic. She was jealous of him because he had lived the human life, but she was the human. Macy was human.

  They were not the same.

  His earlier disappointment turned into an aching sadness. “I didn’t know.”

  “Macy is a human with a pure heart. The Light chose her to protect the human race and the Radia Shard gave her the gifts she would need to do it.”

&nbs
p; Tolen thought about everything Macy had been subjected to and what his own childhood should have been like. Hot anger bubbled inside him. “Why does this have to happen?”

  “You must understand, Tolen, such tragedy is brought upon our races because of the wickedness of the Dark. It is both disgusting and unjust that evil can force such desperate, but necessary, measures. Although not all stories of being Chosen are as tragic as Macy’s, or yours, all have required an enormous sacrifice for the grander picture.”

  Tolen stared across the room, unconsciously fingering the shard around his neck. He could feel it tug him toward Macy even more strongly than it tugged him toward Bastian.

  “Something else you should understand, Tolen, is that Macy has never had to relate to humans before. She does not know how to be subtle and tactful. She has led a straightforward life. I am afraid I have not taught her much in the art of diplomacy. However, underneath the harsh facade, she is one of the most incredible people in the world. Be patient with her. One day you will see the whole Macy and it will change your life.”

  Tolen shifted on the bed. That was a little deep.

  “Destiny always is.” Bastian rubbed the back of his neck and then his head turned toward Macy’s curtains as if she’d called his name. “Excuse me. She is waking up.” He turned and rushed back to Macy’s hidden bed.

  Tolen pulled his knees up and dropped his chin onto his arms. Something about Macy brought on feelings he couldn’t understand. The overwhelming desire he felt to protect her and keep her safe was confusing, and a little frightening.

  Macy was beautiful, terrifying, and far more equipped to be the one doing the protecting.

  o o o

  Macy turned on her side and groaned. She hurt everywhere.

  Every muscle seemed to be on fire and every bone in her body felt like splinters poking her from the inside.