by G. R. Lyons
Graeden nodded. “She does. I know the transition will be rough, but I think she'll be happy here, once she gets used to it.”
“Well, you know your grandfather is itching to help,” she said with a laugh. “He hasn't had a refugee to guide in years. It was all I could do to convince him to stay home with Charlie when I came out here tonight. Grae, sweetie, we still have a lot of questions…”
“I know,” he said. “And I have a lot of confessions to make. But, they'll have to wait. I need her to wake first.”
His mother restrained her curiosity, and patted his arm. “Very well. When you're ready.”
Graeden hugged his mother and walked her to the door, telling her he'd call home tomorrow, and just as the door shut, Graeden spun around at the sound of movement across the room.
“Deyn?”
She groaned and shifted in the bed, flexing her hands and blinking heavily until she managed to open her eyes and look up at him.
Graeden sank down on the edge of the bed, heaving a sigh of relief.
“Hi,” he murmured.
She smiled back at him. “Hi.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Much better,” she said, then grimaced and added, “Still pretty tired, though.”
“I'm sure. Do you need anything?”
She shook her head. “You've already done so much for me…”
“Deyn, tell me what you need,” he insisted. “You're still healing, so, as your doctor, I insist you tell me what you need.”
She looked at him with concern, then breathed a laugh. “I'll never get used to this.”
“Sure you will,” he murmured, kissing the back of her hand. “So?”
She sighed and gave him a smile. “A hot shower would be wonderful. And something to eat. Except I'm not sure I'm ever getting out of this bed. It's amazing.”
Graeden laughed. “Better than Tanas, eh?”
“Much better.”
Graeden cooked up a dinner of steak and vegetables, listening to her groan with pleasure at every bite.
“Gods, this is wonderful,” she said, sitting up in bed with a tray across her lap. “So much better than anything we had back home.”
“Tell me about it,” Graeden said, shivering at the memory of the food on Tanas.
When they finished, Graeden helped her out of bed and started a shower, keeping her steady while he moved her under the flow of water.
“Oh, gods,” she moaned, tilting her head back and letting the water soak her hair.
“What?”
“Mmmm, the water here is amazing.”
“How's that?”
“It's so clean. Can't you feel it?”
Graeden watched her, stunned by the ecstasy on her face, and whirled her around to shove her up against the wall. She let out a squeak of surprise and looked at him, then wrapped her arms around him as he drove into her, gasping and panting as their bodies joined.
“Gods, I missed you,” Graeden panted between kisses, holding her tight as their heartbeats slowed. “Which is odd since I couldn't remember you, but…”
“It's alright.” She laughed softly. “I know what you mean.” She kissed him deeply and leaned back with a sigh. “I missed you, too. Graeden–”
“We'll talk later,” he said. “I'm putting you back to bed as soon as we're done here.”
Zhadeyn nodded, a tightness to her expression that showed emotion being restrained, and they finished their shower, Graeden helping her back into bed as her weak legs started to give out.
He curled up close to her in the dark, kissing her softly as her body pressed up against his, and a moment later he was on top of her, sinking into her again as she clung to him.
It was long and slow, the barriers around their minds falling away as they embraced the physical sensations, their consciousnesses coming together effortlessly. They kissed deeply, gasping at every little motion, crying out at every little burst of heat.
Graeden collapsed on top of her, his arms giving out as his body trembled while the pulsation of his orgasm slowly faded away.
Zhadeyn laughed softly. “You really needed that.”
Graeden managed one nod, panting as he said, “You sort of…blocked off my sex drive…when you sealed my memories.”
“Did I?” she gasped. “Oh, gods, Graeden, I'm sorry.”
“My appetite, too. It's weird never being hungry.” He took a deep breath and blew it out. “Why did you, anyway?”
“To protect you,” she murmured. “I was afraid they might follow you, if you got through without me, and Zevic did.”
Graeden nodded. “I know. Jase told me. Frankly, I'm surprised he didn't just kill me anyway.”
Zhadeyn snorted a laugh. “I think he was too shocked by everything he saw here.” Graeden gave her a questioning look, and she said, “I saw…so many things in his mind. He wasn't prepared for this place. It shattered everything the Elders had ever told him.”
“When did you see all this?”
“When he took me to the old Sonekha prison,” she said with a shiver.
Graeden's eyes went wide. “The Sonekha prison? But Granddad said it was destroyed.”
She shook her head. “They'd tried excavating part of it, but must have given up because it was abandoned.”
“Deyn–”
“Please don't make me talk about it right now,” she murmured. “Can we just…go to sleep?”
Graeden was itching to ask her a dozen questions at once, but since he felt her exhaustion and was stifling yawns himself, he lay down beside her and hugged her back to his chest, closing his eyes as they both immediately drifted off.
In the middle of the night, though, he got his answers.
Graeden woke with a start and felt a host of images flash through his mind while Zhadeyn trembled in his arms in the midst of a nightmare.
He saw her in a dark prison cell, with stale air, insufficient food, and no way to keep herself clean, while her belly kept growing until the baby finally came, a month too early. He saw her suffer through labor pains for several hours, and then hold their sickly, newborn child in her arms.
The baby wouldn't eat, and wouldn't stop crying, and after only a few hours, he was silent and still.
Then he felt Zhadeyn's grief and rage as she took out her anger on her brother, tearing him apart from the inside out, and blasting her way out of the cage with an intense surge of telekinetic energy. Hungry and weak, she left the underground prison, killed the two guards who stood outside, and disappeared into the forest, slowly making her way toward the mountain.
Zhadeyn twitched in his arms as the nightmare went on, showing her grief at the loss of her child and her determination to find the Gate, and hopefully find Graeden once she went through, hoping to live long enough to tell him what happened, if nothing else.
She climbed and climbed, walking and crawling as she searched, and finally found the clearing, recognizing it from the memory Graeden had shared with her. She found the Gate, stepped through, and collapsed.
After resting a short while, she tried the house, found it empty, and crawled down to the road, following it toward town until her strength gave out and she couldn't move anymore.
The snow fell around her as consciousness slipped away, and she pulled herself down into minimal function to protect herself as she lay in the cold, only slightly aware when someone found her later, picked her up, and moved her from that spot at a nauseating speed.
Her nightmare returned to the prison cell, watching the baby suffer and die, over and over, as she tried everything she could think of to protect him.
Zhadeyn woke with a gasp, clutching at Graeden's arms wrapped around her, and burst into tears.
“Graeden…”
“I know,” he whispered, holding her tight. “It's alright. I know.”
“I'm so sorry,” she sobbed. “After what happened with–”
“Don't,” he said. “You did what you could. It's not the same.”
“I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.”
“Me too,” he murmured, curling around her as she cried herself back to sleep.
They slept late into the morning, Graeden not having to work as it was a Solday, and when he woke, he found Zhadeyn looking at him with fresh tears in her eyes.
He looked back at her, thinking of what he had to do, and felt her reading his thoughts out of habit.
“Do you hate me for it?” he asked.
“Hate you?” she gasped. “No, Graeden, how could I hate you for that?”
“Because you're hurting so much right now,” he said, taking her hands.
“No, Graeden.” She sniffed and rubbed her cheek on the pillow. “I hate that I lost him, but that would never make me hate you for…”
Graeden took a deep breath, rubbing his thumb over her cheek, and threw back the covers as he got out of bed.
“Graeden?”
He pulled on a pair of flannel pants and looked back at her, sitting up and clutching the sheets to her chest.
“I need to make some calls,” he said, then braced himself as he held onto his decision. “I'm going to tell them.”
Zhadeyn gave him a sympathetic, supportive look, and Graeden went to arrange to have his family come by for a visit.
Followed by Mrs. Newar.
Chapter 35
“YOU'RE SURE it's not inconvenient?” Graeden asked for the third time, sitting at his desk with the video com open on his screen.
“Not at all,” Mrs. Newar replied, leaning toward the camera on her end and keeping her voice low.
Graeden took a deep breath and nodded. “Alright, then. Well, they'll all be here by second hour, so if you could arrive shortly after that…”
“We'll be there, Graeden,” Mrs. Newar told him with a smile. “Don't you worry. Everything will be just fine. I'm glad for you that this is finally happening. I think it will be good for all of you.”
Graeden looked away for a moment, and murmured, “I should have done this a long time ago.”
“Well–” Mrs. Newar shrugged. “Perhaps it was all meant to happen this way. Now, I need to go get things ready. We'll see you after two.”
Graeden nodded. “Thank you, Mrs. Newar.”
“Oh, and Graeden?” He paused as he reached out to end the call, and saw Mrs. Newar give him a smile. “It's good to see you back.”
Graeden smiled. “Thank you.”
On her end, Mrs. Newar ended the call, and Graeden pushed the video screen aside, returning it to an icon. He took a deep breath, staring blankly at his computer, then rapidly brought up a secured file folder, shuffling through files of video recordings until he found the right one, and set it playing on his screen before he could change his mind.
The image showed the interior of his apartment, looking down from ceiling level at the living room, and Graeden saw himself walk through the front door and lurch to a stop, dropping his med kit on the floor.
“Graeden?”
“Gah, what?” he gasped, pushing back from the desk and spinning around to see Zhadeyn standing beside him, clutching a sheet around her body.
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you,” she murmured, reaching out and brushing her fingers through his hair.
Graeden took a deep breath and stood, slipping an arm around her waist. “It's alright. I just didn't hear you get out of bed.”
Zhadeyn smiled at him and reached up to rub his temples, then moved her hands down to his shoulders. Graeden closed his eyes and sighed.
“Gods, you're a wonder,” he breathed. “Have I ever told you that?”
Zhadeyn laughed. “Once or twice.”
Graeden looked at her, grinning, and leaned down to kiss her, but stopped when he saw her do a double-take, looking up at the wall.
“What– Oh, gods.”
He reached up and snatched down the painting that rested atop the shelf above his desk. He'd completely forgotten it was there.
“No, wait,” Zhadeyn said, stopping him before he could take it away. “May I?”
Graeden stared at her for a moment, then held his breath while he lifted the painting to where she could see it. He watched her as she studied it, tilting her head to one side and the other, a small smile lighting up her face.
“She's lovely.”
“It was just after she found out she'd gotten a part in a big stage production,” Graeden blurted out, looking at Zhadeyn rather than the painting. “We went out on a picnic to celebrate. It would have been such an amazing opportunity for her. She was so happy that day.”
Graeden finally looked at the painting, a host of memories swirling through his mind, and shook his head.
“I'm putting it away.”
“No, Graeden, wait.”
He stopped again and looked at Zhadeyn.
“If it bothers you,” she murmured, “then please, put it away. But don't do it for me.”
“It…doesn't upset you?”
“Why would it?”
“Because of who she is. Was,” he corrected.
“Graeden,” Zhadeyn murmured, stepping closer to him and holding the other side of the painting as she looked from him to it and back. She shook her head. “It doesn't upset me at all. I actually rather like it.”
Graeden frowned at her. “Why?”
With a whimsical smile on her face, Zhadeyn turned to look at the painting. “It's beautiful. This– What do you call it?”
“Art,” he said mechanically.
“Art.” She shook her head again. “We have no such beauty on Tanas. Art would be forbidden. Not worth one's time. Just the fact that you can have this here…It's wonderful.” She glanced at him with a smile, then back at the painting, lightly running her fingers along the edge of the canvas. “And the fact that you made this. You. Your own two hands. You made such beauty. I never thought such things were possible.” She paused again, tilting her head to one side. “She looks so happy.”
“She was,” Graeden whispered, not sure he could trust his voice to be any stronger. “We were.”
Zhadeyn looked up at him, smiling softly. “Embrace that happiness, Graeden. Remember her this way.”
She looked pointedly down at the computer, and Graeden glanced over his shoulder at the screen, the video showing nothing but rage on one side and fear on the other. Even with the sound off, Graeden shivered at the memory.
He watched himself duck and run across the room in a desperate attempt to get away, then freeze as he reached the door.
“You see?” Zhadeyn murmured. “Just an accident. It wasn't your fault.”
He reached out and drew the time bar back several seconds, watching again as he found an opening, ducked, and ran across the room.
“An accident,” he breathed, staring at the screen, trying to reconcile what he saw with what his memory always showed him.
Graeden's arm fell to his side, then his eyes were torn away from the screen as he saw the painting float up and rest back on the shelf, Zhadeyn moving it with her mind.
“Forgive yourself for this,” she murmured, pointing at the video, then nodded up at the painting. “And embrace this. Remember this happiness. You loved her once. There's nothing wrong with that.”
Graeden looked at her, then back at the screen, then up at the painting.
“Four years…Five years, I've been living with this guilt,” he whispered, shaking his head.
Zhadeyn reached up and rested her hands on either side of his face, turning him to look at her.
“Let it go.”
Graeden seized her in his arms, speechlessly grateful once again that he'd finally found in her what he thought he'd always had in the woman in the painting.
“Thank you,” he whispered, holding her close with one arm as he reached up to run his fingers through her hair. He toyed with the ends and sighed. “Gods, what you went through…”
“Hush.” She hugged him back, and Graeden felt her smile against his cheek before he felt her hair snake through his
fingers as it regrew, the tresses regenerating until they reached nearly to her waist.
“You didn't have to do that,” he murmured, breathing a laugh. “You'll wear yourself out.”
Zhadeyn shrugged. “That was easy. I'm going to have to start trying some new things. See what I can really do.”
“Like what?”
She pulled back to look up at him, then one corner of her mouth curved up into a smile as the sheet around her unwound itself, floated back over to the bed, and settled itself back in place, leaving her naked in his arms.
“Come back to bed,” she whispered. “I want to feel you inside me.”
Without looking, Graeden tapped the corner of his desk, shutting it off as he melted against her, their minds opening fully to one another before they were even halfway to the bed.
* * *
AS THE afternoon approached, Graeden took to pacing the apartment, wishing he could just get it all over with.
He froze at the sound of a knock at the door, then swallowed heavily before he went to answer it.
“Hey,” he said, smiling nervously at the sight of his parents and grandfather standing out in the hallway.
He hugged them each in turn and stepped aside to let them in, watching them each embrace Zhadeyn as he closed the door.
Graeden stood back and watched them as they chatted, Zhadeyn shyly answering questions from his parents and speaking eagerly with his grandfather once she realized who he was.
“You're the Hawk!” she gasped, looking at him in awe. “Gods, everyone thinks you're just a rumor, but you're real! I heard some of the stories, but–”
“They still tell her stories?” his grandfather asked, blinking in amazement.
“A few people, yes. I always wanted to hear more of them, though I never really believed they could be true until now.”
“Well,” Benash said, patting her hand, “one of these days we'll have to sit down and recite a few.”
Looking more at ease, Zhadeyn gestured for them all to sit on one of the couches, and Graeden asked, “Can I get you anything? Coffee, Granddad?”
“Yes,” his grandfather said eagerly.
