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As Dragons from Sleep (The Tahaerin Chronicles Book 2)

Page 33

by J. Ellen Ross


  Leisha swiped at him. “Hush.”

  “Think about it,” Zaraki said again, certain he had solved the mystery. “If your people came here with mind reader slaves, maybe they released them. I’ve never heard about any slaves in Tahaerin. Maybe they were giving us instructions to set them free. It’s obvious that just removing the compulsion isn’t enough. Books can be lost, but a carving in a wall? Maybe they did it because it’s important.”

  Nodding, Leisha remembered the flowing lines of script curling around Velika Hall like flowering vines. “All right, then sleep and solitude,” she paused, thinking.

  “He slept for hours today,” one of the guards grumbled behind her.

  “It is not true, restful sleep,” Leisha said, feeling her throat tighten as she remembered the dreams and terrors the flowers gave her. “I’ve never done anything beneficial to anyone. Just killed them. I can try to put him to sleep.”

  Zaraki did not like this. “Let’s ask Sarika first. Maybe she knows.”

  ***

  They found Sarika in the library, happily digging through Zaraki’s collection of books. “Sleep? Oh yes, that’s very easy,” she said, happy to be asked to help again. She and the queen had had no time together, and she wanted to show her so many things. “I can show you and you can practice on me, Your Highness.”

  Leisha did not like the sound of that at all. “Practice on you? What if I do it wrong and I hurt you? Perhaps you could do it instead?”

  Smiling, the young woman pointed at a bench along one wall. “This is a lesson we all learn at a very young age. We practice it all the time. It’s a game for children. I promise you can’t hurt me doing it.”

  Zaraki watched as the two women sat together, heads bent towards each other for several minutes. Suddenly, Sarika slumped to one side, eyes fluttering closed. Leisha caught her by the shoulders and then gave her a small shake, looking alarmed.

  As if emerging from a dream, Sarika’s eyes opened and she smiled. Her words came slurred and indistinct at first. “See? Easy.” Shaking herself awake, she said, “That’s all you have to do, Your Grace. Easy.”

  ***

  With trepidation, Leisha approached the cell, aware of everyone’s eyes on her. She felt their anticipation weighing on her. Her people needed to do something other than withdraw in the face of their enemies. They hoped this might be a first step to understand how to defeat the Deojrin. If she could not do this, the stranger would likely kill himself in his rage or die from thirst and they would lose this chance.

  Peering through the small window, she watched the strange, bald man. Just like the first time, she slipped into his mind, ready to do just as Sarika had shown her.

  This time, his rage consumed her. An inferno burned through his mind, devouring all thought. Leisha felt helpless impotence and realized for all the time the compulsion had sat in his head, he had been aware. He knew what was happening to him, knew why he could not disobey the orders the Deojrin gave him. In the storming vortex of his thoughts, she saw his memories from before the compulsion when he was still free. He remembered his childhood, remembered parents, remembered when they came for him. This strange man remembered it all.

  The stranger’s memories burned her. For all the years under the constraint, he had seethed with outrage. He was filled with rage and hatred with no outlet, no way to lash out at his tormentors. The compulsion forced him not only to obey but to be serene and quiet.

  Now, she tumbled along with the tide of his churning emotions, lost and unable to find the sounds or landmarks to lead her out. Leisha could not separate herself from his fury, could not sense any of his thoughts, but this need to feel something for the first time in years. He could not reach any of the men or women outside his cell, but he could hurt himself. And now, with her inside his mind, he could hurt her.

  Leisha could not believe the pain he unleashed on her. The world needed to suffer and burn as he had. Fire ran down her limbs as he remembered how to cause physical pain.

  He poured his agony and anguish into this new vessel, not caring if she was his enemy or not. Lashing her with his anger, he showed her memories of the things his masters forced him to do, the people he had tortured and killed. The women and children. She felt the horror and revulsion he experienced, even knowing he could not stop himself.

  Unprepared for this assault and confused by the tempest of his emotions, Leisha struggled to defend herself, to deflect the onslaught. In truth, she knew nothing about how to guard herself from him, and now panic-stricken, she lost herself further in the maze of his pain.

  ***

  Zaraki saw Leisha’s body go limp and caught her as she fell. He lowered her carefully to the floor and cradled her head in his lap. Then she started screaming, an agonized, tortured sound. She thrashed on the ground as if trying to escape an unseen enemy. He looked around, helpless as Symon and the others stared at her in horror. No one knew how to stop this.

  Inside the little cell, they heard the stranger throwing himself against the wall over and over. He moaned through the pain as he tried to break his own bones.

  “Kill him,” Zaraki snapped as everyone gaped at one another. “Someone kill him.”

  A guard fumbled for the keys to the cell. Finding the one he wanted, he wrenched the door open. Abruptly Leisha and the stranger both froze in place.

  “Sarika?” Symon whispered, but she could only shake her head in bewilderment.

  Zaraki felt it again, the strange pulsing in the air, the crackling, snapping jolt that made his hair stand on end. It churned like the sea and surged like the tide, radiating out around Leisha as she lay on the stone floor. If this had awakened the strange power that unwound itself when she felt threatened, he wondered if the robed man would survive the encounter.

  ***

  The pain coursing along her nerves stopped abruptly and Leisha saw what the stranger planned. She tried to take control of him, to stop what he was going to do, but he fought her, thrusting aside her clumsy attempts to hijack his mind.

  He tried to enter her, but his thoughts were too scattered and the rage made it so hard to think. Marshaling himself again, he struck out and Leisha scrambled to respond. Frantic, she knew then he wanted to kill her.

  The urge to harm, to maim or murder, became a talisman for the stranger, a light to guide him. Setting his rage aside, he tried to force his consciousness into hers. Leisha reacted without thinking, sensing only the danger and death awaiting her if he won this contest. As she shoved his attempt aside, the other mind registered surprise. He had not expected it and thought with his strength, few should have been able to thwart him.

  Released from the roiling vortex of his fury, Leisha called on her own deep well of power. It responded to her need, rising up, curling around her and clearing her mind. Crashing down, it drowned the stranger, silencing his stampeding thoughts. She moved quickly, slipping deeper into him and finding the area that controlled sleep. As if dousing a flame, the torrent of rage and grief and pain disappeared.

  Leisha felt herself slammed back into her body. The stranger might be asleep now, but all the pain and horror he had spilled into her still mingled with her own emotions. Hands lay on her and anger blossomed in her mind. She remembered Lukas. How dare he? How dare he touch me? Straining against hands the trying to hold her down, she arched her back and screamed in fury. She struggled to get free, hating them, lashing out at everyone around her.

  People in the room staggered back as her rage spilled over, rushing outward.

  Cool hands pressed either side of her face and she heard a voice in one ear. “I love you. Please, please stop,” it entreated. She knew the voice and it pierced the roaring in her mind. Her body relaxed as the strands of anguish and anger began to unravel and unwind themselves from her.

  Exhausted, she lay on the floor, panting. Zaraki stroked her hair and tried to erase the horrified expression from his face. He did not want her seeing that. When she finally looked up at him, he saw recognition t
here.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice hoarse and strained. “I wasn’t prepared. Next time, he won’t be able to do that to me.”

  He scooped her up and carried her up the stairs to their rooms. Symon followed, sending a servant to find Jarden, her doctor.

  As often happened, Jarden left shrugging, not knowing how to treat her when the cause was in her mind. She sent him away, telling Symon and Zaraki she felt fine, just tired now and sore from thrashing on the floor.

  Next to their bed, Zaraki sat hunched over in a chair. “He almost killed you.”

  Leisha looked away, not wanting him to know how close to the truth he was. “I just don’t know enough about what I can do. I need to change that. I’ve learned so much, though.”

  “I wish we’d stop asking these things of you until we knew more.” He sighed and hung his head, looking exhausted.

  She ran her fingers through his hair. “I know. I’m sorry. I wish I weren’t the only one who could do them. Or maybe it would be better if I didn’t care to try.”

  Raising his head to look at her, he smiled. “I was just starting to get over it all and now this.”

  “Come here, my love,” she said, and made room for him in the bed next to her.

  ***

  A servant brought word the next day that the strange man had woken up. “We can hear him moving around in his room. One guard said he thought he heard him getting water early this morning.”

  “I’ll go down and see how he is,” Zaraki said.

  Leisha stood up from the table where she and Symon sat reviewing the final plans to move south. “I’m coming with you. Please don’t argue,” she said, seeing the look on his face.

  After spending considerable time thinking about what she experienced at the hands of the stranger, Leisha felt much more charitable towards him than Zaraki did. “You can’t understand the torment this man went through. I don’t blame him for lashing out at me. Now I know how to defend myself. I promise.”

  When they reached the cells, Leisha called out. “Hello in there, stranger.” At the same moment she brushed over his mind, she felt him do the same to her, his touch feather soft. Relieved, she saw the rage absent from his thoughts and felt, instead, an abundance of caution and trepidation.

  “Who are you? Why are you holding me here?” he demanded to know.

  “I’m the queen of the land your people have invaded,” she said. “You’re locked away because you attacked me.”

  For a long moment, the stranger said nothing. Leisha felt his mind probe at hers again, but only with curiosity. She resisted the urge to bat him away, now she knew how to do it. “I remember you,” he said. “I tried to hurt you.”

  “You did, but we both survived the encounter.”

  When he did not respond, Leisha stepped close to his cell. “Can we open the door?”

  “I won’t harm you or anyone else, ever again,” he said, reinforcing his words with sincere regret and remorse for his past actions.

  Leisha nodded to the soldier who held the key, and Zaraki drew her back to stand by him and Jan. She felt their misgivings, their fear the unknown man would burst from the room and attack them all. But she knew he would not. Sleep and solitude, just like the wall at Branik said. Their guest was apprehensive, but calm and at peace now.

  When the door opened, a dirty, blood-covered man stared out at them. Bruised head to toe from the abuse he heaped on his body, he watched them closely. After a long pause, he spoke saying, “My name is Avrid. I—I don’t remember much after your men took me.”

  ***

  After a bath, meal and a visit with a doctor, Avrid agreed to sit down to talk. They knew he must be exhausted, but Leisha knew her people needed answers. She asked Symon, Aniska, Sarika and Zaraki to meet with them in one of the small sitting rooms on the second floor. This one had a decorative table with comfortable chairs placed around it.

  Two guards showed him into the room. Leisha wanted to tell them the soldiers served no purpose. If the stranger wanted them dead, he would reach out and snuff out their lives, just as she could, but she understood the impulse to keep watch over him anyway.

  Clean now, she saw a man perhaps in his early thirties with just a hint of hair cropping out on his head. Still, though, he bore the bruises he had inflicted on himself. His fingers were no longer bloodied, but she could see where the fingernails were missing. Someone had found or loaned him clothes, and she hoped they had sent the filthy robes to be burned.

  Was it you who broke the compulsion? Avrid asked as soon as the door shut behind him. He did not wait for introductions, as none of the other people in the room interested him except the pretty, dark-haired woman whose power filled the room. The rest he chose to ignore.

  Inviting her guest to sit across the table from her, Leisha felt his intense interest as he sifted through her mind. “It was,” she said aloud, deferring to the others in the room who could not hear his thoughts.

  “You’re very talented, then,” Avrid said, sinking into the chair offered to him. If he felt any pain from his wounds now, it did not show.

  “I don’t know if I am or not. Until recently, I was the only one of our kind on this side of our continent and the only one I knew who existed.”

  Avrid could see this was not false modesty or her trying to be evasive. She truly had no idea of the power she could wield. “You must be strong to be able to break the compulsion on me. It was a very complex one.”

  Leisha shrugged. “I must take your word for it.”

  “You said there were no others like you here?”

  “No, not until a month ago when Sarika arrived,” she said, nodding to the young woman sitting silent and still in the corner. “They were all killed or driven into hiding a hundred years ago. I appeared out of nowhere, it seems.”

  “It happens. What else can you do?” Avrid asked, regarding her with thoughtful eyes.

  “Kill,” she said without hesitation.

  The stranger waved his hand, dismissing the comment. “Parlor tricks. Most of us can do that, with a bit of training. What else?” he demanded.

  Leisha frowned. Killing people seemed fairly complicated and impressive. What more could there be? “As I said, I don’t really know. I’ve never received any training.”

  A servant brought a pitcher of water and placed a cup in front of everyone. Avrid looked up at the man, a frown on his face now.

  “Servant, not slave,” Leisha assured him, hearing the thought that leapt into his mind. “We don’t keep slaves here.”

  Satisfied, the stranger turned back to look at her. “The strongest among us can do this.” He lowered his eyes to the cup in front of him and stared at it. Placing a hand on either side, he stretched out his fingers, concentrating. The cup jerked and water sloshed onto the table as it slid several inches forward without him touching it.

  Everyone gaped, then turned wide eyes to Leisha. “Can you?” Avrid asked, enjoying being the center of attention.

  Incredulous, she shook her head and said, “I have no idea. Until just now, I didn’t know it was possible.”

  “Sarika?”

  The girl looked shocked. “No. No one in our mountains can do that. We seem to have lost the ability.”

  “Let’s see if you can. Watch how I do it,” Avrid commanded, and felt annoyance from the old man at the end of the table again. He found it amused him to annoy someone after all these years of imprisonment.

  Hesitating, Leisha thought she had no interest in entering his mind again after his previous assault on her. Next to her, Zaraki frowned and shook his head.

  In a gentle voice Avrid said, “This is how we teach. I won’t try to harm you. I’ve done a lifetime of killing. I’ve no interest in repeating it.”

  Sweeping her mind across his, he knew she could sense the truth in his words. He saw the pretty young queen draw herself up and touch the arm of the man next to her, asking for his consent. With her abilities, she could easily defeat anyone in
this room, himself included. But in this strange land, she did not impose herself on her subjects. She did not force them to obey her whims or bend them to her will, as the religious teachings he grew up with assured him would happen if the Cursed were not subjugated.

  “I’m done running from Gerolt,” she said to the others in the room. Turning back to him, she gave him a curt nod. “I’ll watch.”

  “I’m not proficient at this, so please bear with me.” He watched as she drew a breath and then reached out for him. Clumsy yet powerful, she entered his mind. It hurt and he winced. Pursing his lips, he realized it would take work to polish this diamond.

  Avrid settled himself and reached for the cup, going slow so Leisha could observe where in his mind the ability lay. It took a couple of tries but eventually the cup lurched forward again, through the puddle of water left from last time. “Did you see?” he asked, pleased to have done it twice in one day.

  Withdrawing from him, she hesitated before saying, “I think so,” without a great deal of conviction.

  “If you’ll allow it, I can watch as you attempt it and offer suggestions.”

  Leisha put her hands in her lap, knowing their position relative to the cup did not influence its movement. Remembering the tiny spark of power she saw in Avrid’s mind, she tried to recreate it.

  The metal cup slid across the table and crashed into the wall, water splashing everywhere. Mouths hung open and people gasped. Sitting closest to where the vessel landed, the red-haired woman stood and went to retrieve it. As she set it on the table, they could all see the dent in one side.

  Avrid spoke into the stunned silence of the small room. “As I said. You’re very talented. My only suggestion then is to be careful. Moving objects is incredibly taxing, and you’re likely to fall into a stupor if you attempt it too many times.”

  “Yes, I can see how it would cause that.” Leisha sounded exhausted, her words slurred.

  “And she’s experienced it before,” the fair-haired man said, frowning now and standing up. He put a hand on her shoulder. There would be no more discussions today. Hearing her voice and seeing how she swayed in her chair, Zaraki called an end to their meeting, ignoring her protests.

 

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