Shifting Isles Box Set (Books 1-3): The Prisoner, S.P.I.R.I.T. Division, and Return to Tanas

by G. R. Lyons

  He'd spent hours on that riverbank, watching the water flow by, wondering where it had come from, and where it would go. As an adult, he'd learned the river grew wider as it went along, so that while it could be walked across in his district, it could only be crossed by old, crumbling bridges that spanned its width as it neared the great ocean that separated Tanas from the rest of the Isles.

  A small part of him still wanted to follow that river from source to sea, as he had wanted as a child, but he knew he'd never have the opportunity.

  It just wasn't done.

  Benash closed his eyes, and recalled the first time he'd seen the river at dawn, the mist hanging thickly over the rushing waters, and just as Sehryl made its appearance over the horizon, the cool, sparkling mist would vanish as though by a spell.

  It was the only magic Benash had ever witnessed.

  He knew better now, of course. He knew there was nothing magical about it at all, but as he stood there in the dark, stuffy tunnel, deep underground, his memory took him back to that glorious sunrise, with the cool mist kissing his face, and watching it all disappear to let the sun sparkle off the sapphire water before him. To Benash-the-boy, that had been magic enough.

  And the sunlight piercing through the clouds to shine upon the clearing, he thought, tempting me and lighting my way to find Vorena? Now that is magic enough for a man. Yet, somehow, there must be more. Vorena makes me feel there must be more.

  That night, when Benash's watch was over, he curled up on his cot and drifted into dreams of a youth on the banks of the magical Pascatin.

  And a mysterious woman by his side.

  * * *

  EVEN ON his lumpy, narrow cot, Benash woke with a greater feeling of peace and contentment than he had in years. He'd spent the entire night with the sound of the river in his ears and the sight of a desirable woman before his eyes, and even though he woke to find himself surrounded by fellow officers and torch-lit caves, he couldn't help smiling.

  As soon as the call to prayer was sounded, though, his smile vanished, and he got down on his knees, inwardly groaning at the ache in his legs as he did so, and clasped his hands to his knees while he bent forward, easing down until his forehead was just an inch above the dirt floor. Straining to hold the awkward posture, he closed his eyes and started to open his mind.

  It's all a ruse, he remembered Vorena saying. Stop reciting the prayers…and you'll be free.

  Do I dare? he wondered.

  Holding his breath, Benash very slowly retreated within his own mind, throwing up defenses as he went, all the while keeping an awareness for any outside presence. With the last of his mind locked down, he concentrated on figuring out how to make his mental blocks stronger, trying different things and feeling the added security surrounding his thoughts and memories.

  Then he waited.

  All around him, the cavern grew quiet as his fellow officers mentally recited the prayers without him. He could just hear the sound of labored breathing—his own included—and the occasional light scrape against the dirt as someone tried to ease a knee or a foot into a slightly more comfortable position, but otherwise he was aware of nothing but his own body and his own thoughts.

  Nothing else. Not even the presence of another's mind.

  Gods, she was right! The wench was right after all!

  Benash tightened his hands where they were clasped on the ground while his body shook with the strain of holding still in his bent posture, but kept his focus on his mental defenses, marveling at the freedom and lack of intrusion he felt. Not having his mind open to the myriad inner voices surrounding him–

  He'd never felt so free.

  It seemed irreverent not to recite the words along with everyone else, but at the same time, it felt natural and utterly relieving to be safe within his own mind, not sharing minds with all manner of strangers.

  And the Elders? he wondered. Just how much were they able to reach out and see while we were all busy concentrating on reciting the prayers in unison? Just how much did they learn while we were unaware of their intrusion—too confused by the presence of so many other minds to notice any particular mind trying to force its way in?

  Benash opened one eye just slightly and glanced to the side, seeing the man beside him bent and shaking and silently moving his lips in time with the mental prayer. Squeezing his eyes shut again, Benash rechecked his mental barriers, and hoped he would know when the prayers had ended so as not to be the last one rising from the floor.

  Skelroth be praised, he thought, and named the other six gods in turn before adding, This feels right. Safe within my own mind, this feels right.

  A faint breeze shifted the hair on his forehead, and the ache eased out of his legs. He almost smiled to himself as he crouched there, knowing the gods were with him.

  * * *

  BENASH STEPPED out the front prison gate that night, and had to force his feet to keep moving. Before Vorena, he had always been eager to leave that underground trap, preferring the openness of the outdoors, even though he wasn't really allowed to linger on the path homeward. Now, after just two days of quarantine, being trapped under the earth—a prospect that would have driven him mad just a week before—he wanted nothing more than to dash back inside.

  The forest path felt too exposed.

  No, it takes me away from her, he begrudgingly admitted to himself.

  Even the prospect of a private hot shower and night's rest behind a closed bedroom door, no longer surrounded by fellow officers, wasn't enough to entice him toward home, but he knew he had no choice.

  He couldn't stay in the prison without drawing undue attention, and the last thing he needed was the suspicion of the Elders crashing down about his head when he had so many new, illegal, and blasphemous thoughts swirling through his mind.

  Gods, woman, what have you done to me?

  Benash took a deep breath of the crisp night air and was struck by the intense scent of pine all around him. A few steps later, he inhaled again, even more slowly and deeply, and could almost taste the richness of the earth and the sweet dew on the undergrowth. He looked up through the trees and saw Garis, the Mother's moon, shining calmly in the heavens. Its feeble milky glow was hardly enough by which to see the path, but Benash found himself feeling suddenly content, blanketed by the shadows beneath the trees.

  He wished he could have shed his coat without getting into trouble. With Tanas shifting southerly, the winter season was unusually mild, and he found his thick uniform stifling. Of course, that was certainly better than having to walk home in three feet of snow when Tanas was closer to Falsin in the north of the world. Benash wondered how the forest would look come spring and summer: If winter was already bordering on warm, their southern movement would mean they were in for a long, hot season in the middle of the year. He just hoped the suns would still be up to let him actually see the forest on his trek home during the summer months.

  All too soon, he was swept up in the mass of bodies flowing down the streets, the forest disappearing behind him as his footsteps carried him inexorably to his cold, bleak, colorless, assigned home.

  Chapter 17

  VORENA FELT his approach long before she could either hear or see him. His thought was so forcibly bent on her in his anger that he wasn't doing a very good job of guarding his mind.

  Just as he hadn't been the past few days since the quarantine had ended.

  She stood up and waited, leaning casually against the door to her cell, and wasn't surprised when the hulking brute walked straight up to her cell and leveled a glare at her.

  At least she had the brief satisfaction of seeing him at a loss for words, surprised as he was to find her there, waiting for him.

  “You know,” she began, “you're dreadfully arrogant for a man who's such an Elders' pet.”

  Officer Garl crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes.

  “Then again, that's exactly the reason why, isn't it?” she continued, teasing him. “You think you're
so special just because you have that shiny badge on your shirt.”

  “No one is special,” the man spat, his hands in fists at his sides. “You're a traitor to say otherwise.”

  “No one is special?” she asked, feigning a startled gasp. “Really? Is that so? Then why is it you have certain powers and authority that the average citizen does not? Why is it the Elders have vastly more privileges than the rest of us?”

  “No one is special because we are all equal!” Garl ground out. “Everyone on Tanas is equal. The Elders have said so. We're all free because everything is shared. Why can't you get that through your little brain?” He paused, and a vile grin lit up his face. “Oh, wait. That's right. Because you're just a woman. Pathetic. No brains to you whatsoever.”

  Vorena raised an eyebrow. “As opposed to a man, who would have brains just by nature of his sex?”

  “Well, of course,” Garl spat, frowning.

  She laughed. “You have absolutely no idea how many contradictions you just uttered, do you?”

  The officer drew back, looking confused. “What in the gods' names are you talking about?”

  Vorena shook her head. “Open your eyes, idiot. You are so blind, it's not even funny.” She paused, thinking. “Actually, it is rather funny. Would be a lot funnier if I wasn't in here with you, of course, but, on the whole, I find it quite amusing. You're so blind to your chains that–”

  A loud screech echoed around the cavern, and everyone looked over to see Officer Benash bracing himself against his desk while his chair was tipped over on the ground. He quickly straightened and righted the chair, but his eyes were riveted on her.

  She'd sensed him enter the cavern while she'd been talking to Garl, felt his worry when he'd noticed the man standing at her cell, but it was the word she'd spoken—the one that had startled him into tripping over his chair on his way to his desk—that threw his mind open just long enough for her to be remarkably aware of him.

  Chains…

  “I bear no chains, wench,” Garl growled, turning his attention back to her.

  “Don't you, though?” she asked, glancing quickly at the Hawk and then looking straight into Garl's eyes, making him flinch and look away. “Chains, chains, chains.”

  “Gah!” Garl roared, slamming a hand against her cell door. “You gods-damned bitch! Keep your curses to yourself! This place is dismal enough without drawing the gods' wrath down upon our heads.”

  Vorena took half a step back, her eyes wide with surprise—only partly feigned.

  “So you do recognize your chains,” she taunted. “You know, being stuck down in this dismal place–”

  “Why you–” Garl began, but the Hawk cut him off.

  “Enough!”

  Officer Benash strode over, still looking visibly shaken but making an obvious effort to keep his face expressionless. He stopped next to Garl, not meeting the man's eyes, of course, but leveling an authoritative glare in his direction nonetheless.

  “To your post, Officer,” Benash murmured.

  “I'll go when I damned-well please,” Garl spat. “I'm over here doing your job, apparently.”

  Vorena watched while the Hawk stood there, a frightfully still exterior hiding the obvious anger that she could sense boiling up inside of him, leaking through the cracks of his mental defenses. His silence finally drew Garl's attention, and that officer looked to his senior with defiance written across his features.

  “I won't say it again,” the Hawk said quietly.

  “Oh, leave us be,” Garl said, rolling his eyes. “I'm just going to put this bitch in her place and– Ooof!”

  The Hawk punched Garl in the side and shoved him toward the cavern door. Garl spun around, crouching slightly with his arms in front of him, sneering at Benash.

  “Hit me, will you?” Garl roared, and charged toward the Hawk.

  The cavern erupted in cheers and curses as the prisoners watched the two officers circle one another. Garl swung at Benash with more rage than technique, and Benash mostly dodged and blocked rather than fight back.

  Vorena stood at her cell door, laughing to herself as the two men danced across the room.

  “What is the meaning of this?”

  The cavern fell silent and the two officers shoved apart from one another as another officer entered the room, staring wide-eyed at the scene.

  “He started it!” Garl shouted, jabbing a finger at Benash. “He punched me, and then–”

  The new arrival held up a hand, and Garl fell silent.

  “Both of you, outside, right now,” the man ordered, then turned on his heel and left the cavern.

  “Yes, sir,” Officer Benash murmured, and immediately followed, keeping his eyes straight ahead as he exited the cavern.

  Garl hung back a moment, openly glaring at Vorena as he passed her cell.

  She smirked at him, laughing at the color tinging his cheeks, but her amusement cut off abruptly as a coughing fit seized her.

  Vorena grabbed the bars of her cell door, trying to keep herself upright while her lungs heaved, but thankfully no blood came up. In a few moments, it was over, but when she gained her upright stance again, she found Garl just across from her, a vile grin on his face.

  He finally turned and left the cavern, but his mind was so open that Vorena easily read his thoughts in that moment.

  I'll get the bitch yet, he thought, his mind full of seeing Vorena in a weakened state. It's just a matter of time.

  Vorena watched him go, maintaining a confident expression on her face the whole time, then let out a weary sigh.

  Fuck you, Kalos. Fuck you to all seven hells and back.

  A choking cough seized her for a moment, forcing her to her knees.

  Alright, alright, I'm sorry, she thought, sending up a prayer. For the Father's sake, I'm sorry. It's just your timing is rather irritating.

  She crawled over to her cot and sat down with a sigh, hearing muttered conversations fill the cavern while it was otherwise unsupervised.

  It was a long while before the Hawk returned, and when he did, he was stone-faced and silent, and mostly kept to his desk the rest of the day.

  Vorena watched him, surprising herself with how curious she was as to his thoughts, but for once his mind was locked up tight. Not a stray thought leaked through his barriers, and though she could have pushed her way inside without him knowing, something about the look on his face made her hold off the effort.

  What do you want, Hawk? she wondered, seeing him sit unnaturally still. Are you starting to wake up? Are you fighting it? Are your eyes being opened, Hawk?

  From outside the cavern, a boy officer asked Benash a mundane question, but Benash either didn't hear the boy or chose to ignore him.

  What sits so heavy on your mind, Hawk?

  She hadn't projected the thought but, as though he'd heard it anyway, he looked up at her from under his eyelashes and met her gaze, then quickly looked away, a touch of color warming his cheeks.

  Even in that tiny moment while their eyes had met, Vorena saw a flicker of life in him before he tried to wrestle it down.

  Wake up, Hawk. Open your eyes. Garl and the others probably don't have a chance, but you just might. Think, she urged him, tempted to actually project the thought into his mind rather than just mulling over the words in her own head. Think and be free, Hawk.

  Vorena paused, watching him as he smoothly rose from his chair and left with his fellow officers for lunch. Even seeing a handful of identical grey uniforms and matching Hawk badges, Officer Benash stood out to her.

  He was taller than the others, and certainly more serious, cold, and calm, but it was none of those things that struck her. For whatever reason, Vorena thought of him and only him as the Hawk, and try as she might, she couldn't put her finger on the reason why.

  He could get you out of here, she thought. Fly away and be free, as it were.

  Not that it would matter, she argued with herself. Your time is running out and you know it.

&nbs
p; But there's always a chance. There's always tomorrow–

  Not for you. You don't have many tomorrows left.

  But I'm still here, for now. Still alive. If I can do any good with my life, let this be it.

  When the Hawk returned from lunch, looking even more closed up than before, Vorena set her jaw in determination.

  Then she felt a sliver of doubt tear through her, and looked up to see Officer Garl glaring in her direction from just outside the cavern before he turned and stormed away.

  * * *

  BENASH FINISHED out his day in silence, mostly ignoring the noise of the prisoners, and occasionally praying to the gods for forgiveness of his misbehavior. The chief officer had been surprisingly lenient with both himself and Garl, but that didn't mean punishment couldn't come at some other time.

  Or from higher up.

  A thrice-damned fool you are, Benash, he berated himself. You're not supposed to react to people. You ought to know better.

  Then again, reacting to people seemed to be all he did since meeting Vorena. He knew he wasn't supposed to like or dislike certain people, wasn't supposed to be moved to any emotion by others, but Garl's arrogance simply ate at him, while Vorena…

  He knew the mystery of her would live under his skin until the day he died.

  Seven, help me, he prayed. Why must you test me so?

  At home that night, he rushed through his routine and went to bed early, lying in the dark and reciting prayers to the Seven, hoping he'd find the strength to bind his emotions and not succumb to provocation again.

  Of course, with his thoughts so full of the day, his dreaming mind tormented him once he finally found sleep.

  The chains were there again, dragging him away, but when he traced their length, he found Officer Garl holding the ends, yanking him back from Vorena, the clearing, and the right path. No matter how much he struggled, he couldn't break free.