AMNESIA

by Canada Jackson

  “Who?” she asked eagerly.

  “Samantha.”

  “She’s just a child.”

  “No, not like that, Amber. She is indeed a minor and I will always see her as such. I have hired her as a caretaker for my sons when they are on the governing island on Illohi; It’s a long story.”

  “My favorite kind.”

  After a short while, she was in tears, mostly with laughter upon hearing about how Shihlo was coping with the spirited Sam as his au pair.

  She was comfortable with the nature of their relationship.

  “I have seen your father on Thee Isle in the federation meetings, but we have never conversed.”

  Amber was pensive for a moment.

  Shihlo’s gaze was beseeching. “Amber, don’t ask. I don’t talk to him.”

  “It’s not him.” She looked at her hands. “Shihlo, can I tell you something only Leyahanna knows?”

  “Of course.” He touched his epaulette. “On my house, it will die with me.”

  “When I first came to be with Wrexel, I found out… that my father had been lying to me for years about my mother’s death.”

  She told him how she had been deceived into believing her mother had died in childbirth, how she had kept dreaming of her so strongly at times that she thought it real and how she had discovered the truth. Dreams sounded less insane than visions and the lie came easily.

  Shihlo listened. “You want me to ask your father why.”

  “Yes, I need to discover if she is alive and if not, when she died… and what her malady was that made him send her away.”

  “I will find the right way,” he promised.

  Amber squeezed his hand in gratitude, hoping that perhaps the truth would help. She wanted so desperately to believe what Revan said. She longed to walk to the apparition and say, “Yes, I am listening,” but the voices of reason that were both Travis’s and her father’s remained strong.

  Revan tried to help her, tried to tell her she wasn’t insane, but she was sure if she told him what her mother or Wrexel said, he would feel different. Her mother wasn’t just trying to resolve something from their past. She was insistent that Amber work with the Sanbara to find the orb and embrace the future that lay before her. Her role was more magnificent than she realized, her link to the Sanbara both ancient and important. You are the keeper of the keys, my daughter, as I was. You will unlock the door to the Father’s return and restore peace to Diogel.

  She hoped finding out more about Lilith would help her make sense of her confusion.

  Ghosts lived in the past. They didn’t predict the future, and they did not declare their daughter to be of magical importance.

  The only advice she did follow was to help the Sanbara. Not because of what Lilith said, but because helping them was something she just had to do. If her mind added Lilith as a persuader, it was a waste of time. She would stop at nothing until the majestic beasts were free.

  * * *

  When Shihlo left her to join his brothers for a meeting, Amber returned to her search. She found the ash wall that was her screen and projected her map upon it.

  Her life outside the catacombs was disastrous; victory within the cavernous walls was an important goal. She stared at the map in frustration, deciding which direction to take, for she only had an hour to search. As she made her way down the passage, she heard the cries of the tortured Sanbara and she moaned in anguish. The bellow turned into a weeping wail and she sank to the ground when the enormity of its pain overtook her. Recent footage of an event had shown the Monarch flay them with a whip and she knew within her heart that he was angrily laying into them at that very moment.

  “Please help me,” she sobbed to nobody in particular as her tears fell, splattering onto the dusty tile beneath her knees. Amber went very still when she saw her tears start to gather on the floor, joining together like spilled mercury. They increased and grew outward as green electricity crackled along the rivulets. She scrambled backward in awe as they formed a seven-pointed circle that shimmered in the dull light of the catacombs and beckoned her to step inside.

  She took dainty steps over the lines until she stood in the middle. It felt like she had come home to a place where she belonged. The sheer pleasure of it made her kneel and wrap her arms about herself as she shivered with ecstasy.

  The vision came swiftly, and she watched herself walking with hands outstretched into the space with speeding stars. As always, the orb lay before her but this time it did not explode as she approached and she managed to set her hand on it. A surge hit her body and pleasure coursed up her arm and centered on her chest as the sound of a choir surrounded her in ethereal worship.

  A great throne materialized behind the orb and she squinted to see the one who sat upon it in a swirling blur. All that she could see was the set of emerald eyes and the pack of Sanbara that lay before the throne, bowing and bellowing, “Father, Father, Father.”

  One Sanbara broke away from the twelve and came to her, its red eyes honing in on her own.

  It wasn’t the one from the catacombs. Amber had learnt its face, and this one was different.

  “I am Argyt.”

  It bowed its head in greeting to her, extending a gallant paw.

  I speak to you from afar.

  Seek the orb, dear Keeper, do not give up hope.

  It is still within Four Wings.

  You will know it when you touch it,

  It is a part of the life that feeds your own.

  Our language is ancient and our voice is weak,

  The humble servants who roam the castle have been speaking of our role and of yours with difficulty,

  We cannot find the words to explain our intertwined destiny of the great awakening.

  Do not give up, do not doubt who you are.

  All will be revealed in time

  Until then seek the orb, restore their dignity so together we can hasten his return.

  “Whose return?” Her voice echoed around her as if she were in a gaping cavern.

  Return, return, return bounced off the walls.

  Your Brother, Our Father, The Grand Wraith.

  Amber’s entire body shook when the vision faded away.

  It was more real than the rough floor beneath her fingers and she could not deny it occurred. She wondered if the Father they spoke of was the malevolent being that Revan feared. The so-called Father of Magic. But the green eyes, the beasts, and all the magic that she experienced were beautiful and she could not perceive them as evil. The love she felt when she connected with the sorcery the Sanbara produced was true and kind. If he was indeed the Father of Magic, the Yimmyrd had to be wrong about his nature.

  Lilith floated in the distance and for the first time in years Amber did not turn her face away, staring at her with acceptance instead.

  Amber opened her mouth to address the one she always shunned but words failed her. Years of being ashamed still lingered.

  Was her mother part of the magic she was experiencing in the catacombs or had the Sanbara merely used her of late to send messages?

  How could a woman born so long ago on Earth be intertwined with the worlds she lived in now?

  She knew her mission with the beasts was real but besides sending her messages… who or what was Lilith?

  Her monitor bleeped in warning and Amber stood up quickly. Dusting off her hands, she raced back upstairs. As she slipped underneath the tapestry, her mind whirled with the explanation the Sanbara gave her and the power of the circle that had formed from her very tears.

  She didn’t understand all that much but what soared through her heart even more than the strange message was that she was important to them.

  She.

  Crazy Amber.

  Easily manipulated Amber.

  Entrusted with something that defied both reason and intellect.

  They had chosen her and she would not let them down.

  “Where are you going?” Wrexel caught Amber’s arm when she got up
early in the morning a few days later.

  “Staede left me a note that our lessons would start again today,” she said as she changed into her exercise clothes. “I’ve been working out while both of you have been busy, but I’m looking forward to our session.”

  She was sure after what he witnessed the last time, he would argue with her, demand she give up the sessions. She looked at him with all the anguish she felt inside. She did not want to let go of the feelings she gained when she managed to hold her own and take down the robots that Staede had now introduced to their gatherings. Actual engineered copies of beings within the 104 that he fought. He told her that their setting was on slow, but as she became more adept, he would up their attack until she was able to defend herself against a real one. She steeled herself for an argument, for she would not give it up.

  “Come here first,” he demanded.

  Wrexel looked devilishly handsome as he lounged against the white pillows of their bed. His skin was tanned, and he had a new scar upon his abdomen. A slight azure tinge marred one cheek. Still, he was the epitome of masculine attractiveness and for a moment, she thought he would call her to him, drag her onto the bed, and persuade her to stay. He did pull her down for a long, drawn-out kiss but then he set her free.

  “Hit Staede as hard as you can… please,” he said gruffly.

  * * *

  When she exited, Amber was surprised to find Staede in their waiting area, and even more so to see Whyle at his side. After she greeted Staede, Whyle hugged her as well, and she remained with him, hooking her arm in his.

  Wrexel heard the greetings and came out of the room to witness her exchange. Unlike his reaction when she showed Staede affection, he moved forward and stroked her head as a sign of acceptance, then embraced Whyle in true Thromian form.

  He nodded at Staede who said, “Hey,” a greeting Amber had taught him. Wrexel scowled when he recognized this.

  “How is Rix?” Amber asked, for she hadn’t seen her in the last couple of days.

  “Recovering well,” Whyle said. "I thought it best that she stay off the Monarch’s radar, lest he try to use her to influence me again. Staede has been protecting her and I am grateful to him.”

  Amber was sure this surprised them all, but no one said a word. Rix was a member of his party so it made sense.

  “How has your time with the Monarch been?” Wrexel asked.

  “Hilarious, as he discovered I am not in control of Comms anymore.”

  “Is Inndra handling it well?”

  “He’s on high-security alert and under full and constant protection. He resides in my quarters in Four Wings mostly because he knows Gilroth will not show restraint. If anybody can handle it and be trusted, it’s Inndra.”

  Wrexel nodded. On this, they all agreed.

  “We should extend the same security considerations to Inndra’s family,” Whyle suggested. “Why not invite them here to Four Wings, let them guard their brother and perhaps Amber too, keep them out of the Monarch’s clutches so he can’t use them?”

  Wrexel nodded. “Agreed.”

  “It would help if you lifted your balcony rail for Staede, giving them freedom to patrol all three of the brothers’ wings.”

  Wrexel ignored him. “Any news on the three Rak bodies found?”

  “Nothing. I can’t access my tower and I can only crack the Raks’ databases if I am inside it. Inndra cannot do it and his brother Dionys is still in training, so until I am back within, there isn’t much I can do. I’m desperate to see if they were important generals or just three Raks who happened to be captured by our loving king. Rest assured, though, I am trying my best to crack their codes even without my tower.”

  “Can you not risk going inside?” Wrexel asked.

  “No. The Monarch has me under constant supervision. And anyway, transferring the rights was full and final.”

  “Anything else we can use?” Wrexel was impatient.

  “I have nothing to report. The Monarch keeps me around as a symbol. I am forced to follow him to public events and act as if we are in accord. He ensures I am involved with very little that I can use against him, though.”

  “I do not understand why there were Raks on Throm and why he kept it a secret. If he caught Raks here spying, showing his victory over them would have been good for him. It makes no sense and we need to push harder to find out more.”

  Leyahanna stuck her head around the corner. “Shihlo is en route.”

  Amber turned to Staede. “I haven’t seen Shihlo in days. Let’s delay our exercise.”

  He nodded. “I have other errands to attend to. We will have a rain check.” He teased her with an Earth term and once again Wrexel bristled. Staede’s lips lingered on her hand and a look of fondness passed between them.

  Amber looked over at Wrexel and noticed that his glare had hardened even more.

  “Breakfast.” Whyle broke the tension and sat down to the meal that was being set out. Shihlo was soon with them and, as usual, he was all about politics.

  He spoke of numbers, lost allegiances, and the risk of losing the Comms stronghold if the Monarch got his hands on Inndra.

  “He is miserable,” Shihlo admitted. “Lost all his freedom of movement.”

  “But secure,” Whyle added. “Under the full protection of those we can trust. Freya and Dionys will take turns managing the guards.”

  “Good thinking.” Shihlo seemed pleased. “We are lucky to have Inndra and his family too.”

  “No, you are.” Wrexel said sourly. “I hoped he’d see the wisdom of my plan…”

  * * *

  Shihlo ignored Wrexel. Despite Whyle’s change of heart, they could do nothing with Inndra in control, for he fully supported Shihlo. Shihlo did agree, however, that their cousin being Red was a huge problem they needed to fix.

  The damage that had put the Monarch at fifty percent made them realize Whyle was as popular as the brothers. His feats to save Throm were already ingrained on the walls of remembrance. Many had chosen the House of White because of him, as Shihlo had openly admitted. New cadets would be drawn to the House of Red now. Gilroth had not made it public that Whyle no longer controlled the Comms tower.

  “He couldn’t have chosen a better ally, consenting or not,” Shihlo groaned. “I half wish Whyle had skeletons in his closet, too. Skeletons we could use to stop those who are still undecided from taking the final step of defection. If we could show the Monarch’s claim to be dubious, they would second-guess their decision and wonder whether Whyle had been coerced.”

  “Why not just tell Throm?” Amber thought the solution seemed very simple.

  “Amber, we cannot destabilize Throm that way. They need full confidence in the Constitutional Monarchy. We must win this democratically without making Throm feel as though their leaders have cheated them by having personal agendas,” Shihlo explained. “Therefore, Whyle cannot state it emphatically or even acknowledge the rumors, but we need something… something to make the king’s admissions seem dubious. Throm would expect a royal to give up their life for their political house. While we understand Whyle’s love and devotion to his sister, we cannot let them think he succumbed to blackmail. We must throw suspicion out there. If only we could validate them without Whyle confessing the truth about Rix, throwing shade on the Monarch in a manner that isn’t deliberate.”

  Whyle grinned. “Clean living has come back to haunt me. I should have hung around with Staede more often.”

  Amber was delighted that he had warmed up enough to joke and she squeezed his hand affectionately under Shihlo’s watchful and curious gaze. She saw him look at Wrexel and then back at her as she held onto Whyle.

  Shihlo suddenly sat upright and rigid. He drew in an excited breath and honed in on Whyle. “If we could blacken your name, would you consider it?” he asked breathlessly.

  Whyle looked a little unnerved. “I don’t know. It depends on what you want to peg on me.”

  “I have an idea of how we can put a stumb
ling block in our Monarch’s plans,” Shihlo said. “If you… and Amber… agree.”

  Amber frowned.

  If he were to suggest an annulment again, she knew a fight would break out, and she was in no mood to replace the furniture she had recently added to their home – furnishings that still made Wrexel wrinkle his nose in disapproval. He had no time for the “bags of beans,” as he called them, which she had placed in the lounge. With his large body, he did not find them comfortable, but Amber loved them. They reminded her of her childhood.

  When she was out of the room, he would savagely kick them, and then chase after Banjo to reassure her fluffy companion that he meant no harm.

  This brought a smile to her face, even more so when she saw that Wrexel was handing the dog a morsel under the table.

  She dragged her gaze from her handsome husband. “What do you mean?” she asked Shihlo.

  “I think I have found a way to get Whyle to lose some popularity that the Red House is gaining. I mean to discredit him, make those who are joining because of him believe he is either shallow or double-minded, or that the Monarch is up to no good and has lied,”

  His face lit up with a satisfied smile as he bit into his bread, “I suggest,” Shihlo said between bites, “that Amber enter a tri-marriage with Whyle.”

  Whyle dropped his fork and Amber gasped as she watched Wrexel’s spluttering indignation.

  “In name only, of course.” Shihlo rolled his eyes but Wrexel did not relax. His gaze flew from Whyle to Amber and the hand she held now became a problem.

  Whyle immediately removed his fingers from hers.

  “His claims of the switch for purity would be questioned and the conclusions we would sow would do damage.”

  The cousins stared at him, minds clearly processing the bold plot.

  “Either way, it would stop many from making a swift change,” Shihlo declared triumphantly. “And if it does not… I swear on my house I will join the meetings for civil war without coercion.”

  This elated Whyle and Wrexel, but then Whyle grinned wryly. “I just realized that not only will two houses hate me, but I will enter into a marriage of celibacy. I don’t think I can do it. No thanks and no offence to you, Amber.”