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

by G. R. Lyons

  A long silence followed, the men looking deep in thought, and one asked, “So, love is a natural type of preference?”

  “Essentially,” she answered. “But a profoundly intense feeling. It's an emotion that is aroused by feeling extreme preference for one person, but not just because you find that person attractive or companionable, but both those things and something more still. It is something you feel when you find the person who fulfills you, who makes you want to constantly strive to be the best you can be, who inspires and embodies the values you hold most dear…”

  She trailed off, feeling suddenly dizzy, and the cavern fell silent while she tried to simply take a full breath.

  “So what happened?” a prisoner asked. “In the story. What happened to the young man?”

  Vorena blinked, looking around, and reached out to grab the bars to steady herself.

  “Sorry, boys,” she panted. “I think…I need a rest. I'll…tell you…more tomorrow.”

  The men looked disappointed, but didn't outright complain while she struggled to pull herself toward her cot. She managed to crawl into it, and felt consciousness slipping the moment her head hit the thin pillow.

  Chapter 26

  BENASH WATCHED Vorena for a few minutes after she passed out, not yet ready to move from his spot on the floor in the middle of the cavern.

  She hadn't even really gotten to the meat of the story, but he found himself desperate for more.

  But it's all wrong, he thought. It's so, so wrong. Yet, it feels so right. Why?

  He got up and went to his desk, soothed by the dim light in that corner of the cavern. The dancing flames of the torches didn't allow him to see much of his charges, but he was not about to complain. Hiding in the dark and mulling over Vorena's words sounded much more appealing than spending the day under electric light and arguing with prisoners.

  And there's a preference, he thought. Choices, preference, individual wants. By the gods, how is it that everything she says makes so much sense and feels so right, though it contradicts everything I know? Everything I've been taught?

  Benash glanced up from under his eyelashes and looked in the direction of Vorena's cell, but in the shadows between torches, he couldn't quite make out her form. Still, he tried to make his eyes pierce the darkness, imagining that he could discern the curve of her leg upon the cot or the limpness of her hand as it hung over the side and rested on the ground.

  An odd urge welled up inside him, something he was afraid to name.

  And I prefer her, he realized, comparing Vorena to his wives. Even with her sarcasm and her disobedience, her teasing and her blasphemous ideas—even then, I want her more than I want my wives.

  He thought back to the day he arrested her: seeing her for the first time, and being struck by how confident and alive she seemed. The shock of that moment still stirred him.

  If things had been different– No. No, Benash, do not go down that path. That way lies nothing but danger. You're already on unsteady ground as it is.

  Benash knew he was going to have to make another report to the Elders soon, and just the thought of standing in the Council chambers again made him tremble. It was bad enough that he was withholding information from the Elders, but all these new ideas filling his mind—whether or not he accepted them—would mean instant punishment if the thoughts leaked past his mental barriers.

  If the Elders discovered such treasonous ideas in the mind of an officer, surely he'd be made an example of. Not just prison for him. No, it would be much, much worse.

  By the gods, Benash, what have you gotten yourself into? And yet…

  He looked over at Vorena, saw her stir, and felt a strange ache well up inside his chest, the like of which he'd never experienced in his life.

  The prisoners were silent while Vorena forced herself into a sitting position, expectant looks on the few faces that Benash could see from his post. He kept himself rooted to his chair, watching her, and could just make out the movement as she shifted to the end of her cot, nearer the cell door, and leaned back against the wall with a weary sigh.

  She was silent and still for a long while, and her gaze was fixed on the ground, her chest moving slowly with each deep breath she took. Benash watched, hidden in shadow as he was, and wondered how long it would be until she recovered enough to continue the story.

  Then he caught a hint of a smile on her face, and just barely made out the narrowing of her eyes as she stared at the floor.

  Benash looked down, wondering what could be so amusing to her, and saw a small rock roll to one side of its own accord.

  When he looked back up at Vorena's face, she was grinning outright.

  The gods be damned, he gasped inwardly, watching the rock shift back the other direction. She wasn't joking.

  Benash stared at the rock, watching it move slowly one way and then another, until it finally came to a stop and stayed there for several seconds. When he looked back up at Vorena, her chin was on her chest and her arms hung limply at her sides.

  He held his breath, staring at her, trying to discern whether she was still breathing, when a gate slammed shut somewhere in the prison and Vorena startled awake.

  Benash sighed with relief, and watched the woman slump over onto her side and go back to sleep.

  That night, alone in his room, Benash sat on his bed with the oilcloth wrapping spread open on his lap, the burnt and worn page resting atop it. He stared at the page, having given up on discerning any clues from the text, and now focused on the lightness of the paper.

  Narrowing his eyes, he imagined it moving.

  No matter how much he stared and focused and wished, nothing happened.

  Benash lifted the page, feeling how light it was, thinking that surely something so flimsy could be easily moved, but he seemed to lack the ability.

  He rested it on his lap, and tried again.

  Sweat broke out on his forehead before he finally gave up the effort, wondering how in the world Vorena had managed to achieve such an ability.

  Surely it's possible, he thought, remembering the little rock rolling around on the cavern floor. If she can do it, surely others can. It must be possible.

  Benash stared at the page, then gave up with a sigh, wrapping the oilcloth back up and stowing it away.

  A useless endeavor, he thought, shutting off his light and crawling under the sheets. He punched at his pillow and pulled the sheets up to his chest, staring into the dark. Isn't it? What could be the use of it? Yet, she keeps trying. What could such power do?

  Burdened with yet another puzzle, Benash fell asleep, and dreamt of chains.

  * * *

  VORENA DREAMT of Will, the man in the story she'd started to tell. It was one of her favorite dreams, one that always brought her a sense of comfort and purpose.

  She woke from the dream with a smile on her face, thinking of the man behind the story. According to the man with the book, Will had actually existed on Agoran, and had really lived and loved and achieved, just the way the story told, despite all the obstacles thrown his way.

  There were people like him that she wanted to meet on Agoran, if she ever made it that far. People who figured out what they wanted in life, and went after it with every fiber of their beings.

  The other prisoners were still fast asleep, so Vorena got up and did a light round of stretches, forgoing more strenuous exercise so as not to wear herself out. If her lungs cooperated, she hoped to get through more of Will's story that day, though she was sure there would be plenty of interruptions, and she hoped she'd be able to answer whatever questions came her way.

  As soon as they woke, the prisoners started clamoring for the story, but Vorena intentionally delayed until they were forced to let off when the morning prayers began. She wanted to make sure the Hawk was there to hear it. If her brief introduction to the story the day before had cut him as deeply as it had appeared to do, she couldn't wait to see his reactions to the rest of it.

  And the lot of them, for
that matter, she thought, glancing around at all the prostrated figures while she reviewed some of the story details in her head. With each new story she told, she saw more of her fellow prisoners show feeble signs of life, thinking past the shackles in their minds as they considered other ways of being.

  A few, in particular, seemed most receptive to her treasonous tales, and Vorena had chosen Will's story specifically with the hope of awakening something more inside those men.

  She glanced across the cavern at the two men with whom the story was most likely to resonate.

  The separated lovers were on their knees, just like their fellows, but with each passing day, Vorena noticed the pair were less attentive to their prayers. They were slowly but surely pulling back and closing their minds to the process, retreating into the safety and freedom of isolated identity.

  Thank the gods, there's hope for some of them yet.

  The first time she'd seen them, the sight of those brawny men behind bars had startled her. Though neither was as tall as the Hawk, they were both much more broad of chest and strong of arm, yet, apparently, the Hawk alone had managed to drag both men to prison.

  She couldn't fathom how he'd managed it—the two men alone could have easily killed the Hawk with their bare hands—until she realized they hadn't even tried.

  They had submitted to the Hawk's authority without a fight.

  Oh, how heavy sit the chains that exist only in the mind, she thought with a sigh, shaking her head. She watched her fellow prisoners start to straighten up as the prayers ended, and she couldn't help smiling as she flowed into another stretch, stalling for time. Well, let's see if we can't shake things up a bit.

  * * *

  BENASH GROANED at the sight of functioning electricity as he entered the main tunnel that morning.

  The overhead lights flickered and buzzed, and Benash was rubbing his temples before he even reached the main cavern to check in for the day.

  Once inside his cell cavern, he decided to forgo his usual morning circuit and instead collapsed right into his chair, squeezing his eyes shut against the throbbing pain building up behind them.

  All around him, the cavern was blessedly quiet.

  He opened his eyes halfway and glanced around, seeing all the prisoners looking expectantly toward the woman's cell, while Vorena herself was watching him with one eyebrow raised.

  Oh, go on, he told her, planting his elbows on the desk and rubbing his temples again.

  He felt Vorena's answering smile before she addressed the cavern at large.

  “So, where were we yesterday?” she asked. “Ah, yes. The woman Will loved.”

  Benash lowered his hands and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes as he listened.

  “At least,” Vorena continued, “the woman Will thought he loved. Physically, Katie was intoxicating. She had a beautiful face, and a body that no man could resist. Everyone told Will how lucky he was, having Katie for a girlfriend when she could have had any man she–”

  “What's a girlfriend?” someone asked.

  Benash forgot his headache as he watched Vorena pull up short and stammer over an answer.

  “A girlfriend is…” she said. “Well, she'd be…How to explain it? Let's say, a girlfriend is like a wife, but without the lifetime attachment.” She paused and gave a wry smile. “Alright, maybe that's a bit crass, but I don't know how else to explain it. The man who told me this story basically said it's like 'trying out a wife before taking her for life'. Of course, wives and husbands are very different on Agoran than they are here. There, marriage is entirely voluntary rather than assigned.”

  “Can you imagine?” one prisoner said in a loud whisper. “Being able to pick your own wives?”

  Benash saw several heads nod, looking intrigued, and even he had to admit the idea had strong appeal.

  Very strong appeal.

  He cleared his throat as quietly as he could while he shifted in his seat.

  “Yes, but she has to pick you, too,” Vorena put in, grinning at them. “Remember that men and women are of equal status on Agoran. All that matters is the individual. No one there has authority over another just because of age or sex or social rank.”

  Several of the prisoners muttered, condemning the idea of a woman having choices, autonomy, and equality. Out of habit, Benash found himself nodding in agreement to their murmured comments, but then he looked back over at Vorena, and thought of his dreams of her.

  There was just something about the idea of being chosen by a woman—being wanted by a woman!—that made his heart race with desire.

  It sounded much more appealing and natural than being merely accepted by a woman because she was assigned to him and had no other choice.

  Seven save me, my thoughts are sinful, he thought, and shook his head. But they don't feel that way. The Elders would say I sin, but do I, in truth?

  “Shall I go on?” Vorena asked.

  A few of the prisoners grumbled that they still didn't quite grasp or accept the concept of a girlfriend or a choosing woman, but they let the story continue.

  “So, Will was full of pride,” Vorena continued, “being the envy of his fellows, having this desirable woman in his life. But when he was alone with her, he knew something was wrong, though he couldn't pinpoint exactly what that was. It was worst when they were in bed: Will found he could only enjoy the pleasures of her body if they were in the dark, and he always afterward felt a painful void well up inside him, as though something vital was missing.”

  Benash stared at Vorena, holding his breath, hearing his own thoughts about his wives in her words.

  “Every time Will went to bed with Katie, he would wake up the next morning, angry with no definable reason and disgusted at the sight of her, despite the fact that her body was what everyone called ideal. Every time, he would get out of bed, determined to end the relationship, but the unanswered questions plagued him, and he always abandoned the idea just before he opened his mouth to tell her to leave.” Vorena paused and looked around the room. “Why was he always so angry? Why did he always feel such a void? What was he missing? No matter how many times he asked himself these questions, he could never seem to grasp the answer.”

  Vorena fell silent, looking down at her hands with a smile, and Benash finally took in a breath as he turned his gaze to the other prisoners. Some of the men looked just as startled as he felt.

  Clearly, he wasn't the only one who felt something missing when it came to their wives.

  “What was it?” someone asked breathlessly. “What was the answer?”

  Vorena looked up and smiled. “Let's not get ahead of ourselves. There's more to the story first.”

  All around him, the men moved closer to the doors of their cells, and Benash sat forward in his chair.

  “The questions only got worse when Will went to visit his parents at the family home,” Vorena continued. “He would see his mother and father, so happy together and so deeply in love, and wonder why he couldn't achieve that kind of relationship with Katie. He thought himself in love, but as time went on, he found he couldn't tolerate Katie's presence. He would see how comfortable and tender his parents were around one another, and wondered what he was doing wrong.

  “So, he kept trying,” she went on. “No matter how unhappy he was, he kept trying to make their relationship last. If everyone said he should be happy to have Katie in his life, surely his gut instinct must be wrong?”

  Benash realized he was staring, and shut his mouth with a snap while he glanced around the room, feeling suddenly self-conscious, but all the others were so riveted on Vorena that no one had noticed his intense absorption in her words.

  He swallowed hard and slowly shifted his gaze back to Vorena's face. She flashed him a grin and turned her attention back to her audience in general.

  “When he was alone, Will lost himself in his music, letting the melodies carry him away from the world for a time and into a land of dreams. With his eyes closed on the world and his e
ars full of nothing but the sounds his own fingers made, Will let his imagination run wild: He pictured himself coming home to someone who was actually excited to welcome him; pictured himself making love to a person who made him feel whole and fulfilled, who made him feel like a man, a person, a human being–”

  Benash's breath caught in his throat, hearing his own thoughts in her words.

  “–and to whom he could return the same feelings,” Vorena went on. “He imagined himself in love with a person who truly appreciated his passion for his music, and who would inspire the same appreciation in him.”

  Watching her, Benash saw Vorena's eyes go unfocused as her voice dropped to a just-audible murmur: “Will imagined evenings of comfortable companionship, nights of incredible sex, and days of purposeful action and happiness as he and his partner both pursued the things that made them feel most alive and free.”

  Vorena closed her eyes and took a deep breath. For just a moment, the barriers around her mind slipped, and Benash had just enough time to catch an image that dominated her thoughts:

  Herself and a faceless man, with a child in her arms, a smile on her face, and a look of complete adoration and love in her eyes.

  Contentment. Happiness. Life.

  Benash's heart raced with temptation.

  Seven, save me…

  Chapter 27

  BENASH STROLLED home, his eyes fixed on the path before his feet without really seeing it. He was so deep in thought that he barely noticed his grumbling stomach, let alone his surroundings.

  All day, the image from Vorena's mind had haunted him. The sight of her embracing a man and holding a child, the emotion plain on her face, was so novel and yet so oddly natural that Benash wasn't quite sure what to think. It was just so backwards from the way of life he'd always known.

  He had absolutely no concept of wanting a child. Loving a child.

  Just the idea of loving one's wife was difficult enough to grasp.

  Yet, somehow, it seems…he thought, then cut himself off. Seven, help me, I can't be thinking this way. If the Elders find out, they'll kill me. And yet…