AMNESIA

by Canada Jackson

  She opened her mouth to tell him, but his eyes glazed over as he roared, “You’re mine!”

  * * *

  She ran to the bedroom, but he slowly followed her. She sensed the magic even stronger now. It seemed to reach out from Wrexel, twirling about her legs like snapping elastic bands as she reached the wall and ran out of space to flee.

  “Wrexel,” she screamed when he caught up with her.

  She was sure he was going to take her against her will, sure that the insanity that currently consumed him to possess her would make him do things she had once thought him capable of doing. He stared down at her with glazed-eyed madness instead. The force of the magic that controlled him covered him like a halo.

  The truth of their union laid bare.

  In between her terror and confusion, she grappled with the knowledge that what they had wasn’t real. He was and always had been compelled by some sick and cruel power to covet her to the point of madness.

  “You don’t want me, this isn’t real,” she tried to tell him. He shuddered as he struggled against the sorcery that held him, looking at her mouth with hunger and then at her eyes with confusion.

  “This isn’t true,” she cried again more loudly this time. “It’s magic, Wrexel; none of these feelings you are having are real!”

  He flinched but did not move from her, his hand tightening on her shoulders even more as he wrestled the enchantment.

  “Wrexel… let me go,” she begged. “You’re bewitched, it’s a spell. Let’s get Whyle; he can help you be free.”

  The anguished moan he emitted just before he began to kiss her made her heart break when she realized that he was being tortured in ways she couldn’t understand. He couldn’t stop what the magic commanded any more than he could give up breathing. Their embrace became heated. Her love rose up to fore as she lamented the true loss she was encountering and how this could be the last time he would hold her like this.

  Kiss her like this.

  “Mine,” he said repeatedly as he kissed her, dragging her into his own crazed madness as she began to respond to him in sadness and longing for what would never be.

  “Mine.” His hands were gentle even though they shook as he clutched her to him.

  He lay her down on the bed and she wrenched her head back from him. Determined to make him wake up, she clasped his face. “Wrexel,” she pleaded, searching his eyes for some sign of normality but his gaze was distorted. The man she loved was no longer with her.

  She sobbed and begged, praying the glaze would fade and he would realize that he was caught up in something both powerful and deceiving. “Please wake up,” she whimpered and then prayed again there would be something of the real her that he would love.

  She wept against his mouth when he tried to kiss her again. “Fight this… please,” she pleaded as he began to unbutton her shirt with hands that shook.

  He jerked at her words and stared at her in confusion as if he was struggling to come back to her from a distant place. His hands stilled on her chest.

  Tears streamed down her face as she gazed at the lover who had never truly been hers.

  “Amber,” he whispered against her lips. “Love me… please.” Then he dropped heavily onto her as the magic seared through him, taking him far away.

  * * *

  Much later, Wrexel woke up and saw Amber curled up in a ball beside him. He leaned over to run a shaking hand over her face, sighing with relief that she was merely fast asleep and still wearing the same clothes she wore earlier. The desire to make love to her had been overpowering; so too was the need to possess not only her body but also her very soul. He remembered wanting to erase Staede’s mouth on hers and then recalled wanting her to experience the same pain that raged through him.

  He looked at Banjo’s empty bed and groaned at his actions.

  The recollection of her with Staede came back to haunt him. Obviously, over time she had fallen in love with his brother. Perhaps she loved them both and didn’t know how to reconcile it.

  A perfectly acceptable Thromian mindset.

  One that would never be acceptable to him when it involved her.

  Could he let her go?

  Could he share her if it meant she wouldn’t leave Throm?

  Pain sliced through him at the very idea.

  He would not share the coy, sweet looks she gave him when she desired him.

  He would not share her soft body, her tinkling laugh, her passionate arguments.

  He would not share her.

  The calm he had when he first woke up drained away and was slowly replaced with devastating panic.

  Rage and confusion blinded him again, and he fought against the torrent as it overwhelmed him, demanding that he protect her, insisting that he keep her with him always.

  He staggered to the bathroom and clutched his head as the crackle of sorcery returned vigorously. Screaming through his body, it stirred his mind into a frenzy of fear and anger. The sight of Staede holding her closely, her hands lovingly upon his cheeks, their mouths moving together.

  He leaned on the basin and tried to gain control of the feelings that rippled over him, but they raced through his veins, demanding compliance.

  Must have her.

  Must keep her.

  Only I can protect her.

  Mine.

  She is mine.

  Protect her.

  Keep her near.

  Protect the Keeper of the Keys.

  Wrexel raged against the voice that called him to action, taking gulping breaths. Malevolent green eyes loomed in the mirror in front of him but Wrexel did not see them as his mind grappled for ways to keep her as his alone. He still obeyed the frantic call for possession that the eyes demanded.

  He unsheathed his nails moments later and traced the line of his abs down to his pelvis; he took a deep breath and plunged his finger into his abdomen. He shuddered with pain and his legs shook but he refused to falter until he retrieved the ring he sought. He dropped to his knees, and blood coursed down his genitals and thighs until the Torlutacht sat on the basin.

  He cleaned the wound and carefully stitched the puncture in a mindless daze. Then, with only one desire thrumming through him, he moved weakly to her side through puddles of his own blood. He slipped the Torlu ring onto her pledge band with a ragged sigh.

  He slumped to his knees beside her as the throbbing and demanding voice in his mind told him that Staede would back off if she were pregnant. Pregnant with his child. The insanity of the idea occurred to him briefly in the haze that controlled him and he faltered for a moment, touching his stomach in bewilderment.

  What had he done?

  When she moaned in her sleep, all the confusion ebbed away to be replaced by the same need.

  Mine.

  Has to be mine.

  Have to protect her.

  Have to protect the Keeper of the Keys.

  Wrexel cried out when the magic that raged through him became too much. He staggered away from her, breaking into a run when his head felt like it would explode and when he realized he was about to wake her up and knock her up in an insane bid to keep her.

  He left Four Wings in a rush. He needed to put distance between himself, Staede, and Amber until he regained the control he desperately required.

  He looked down at the wound on his stomach but did not even see it as he flew away, struggling to calm the madness that raged in his soul.

  41

  Agony

  The following day, Amber dragged herself out of bed, unable to shed any more tears at the loss of her pet, her closest confidante, and… Wrexel. She was hopelessly terrified of the insanity she had seen in him the night before. It took her several moments of hysterical screaming to discover the meaning of the blood upon the bedroom and bathroom floor. She ran the security footage in horror, watched him slicing his own stomach open, watched him stagger to the bed. She stared down at the ring that now hung from her pledge band. The log also showed that he had departe
d to a destination unknown.

  She prayed that while he was away, he would realize what had happened to him and together they would find a way to fight whatever curse was on them. She hurriedly deleted all that occurred and went to summon Whyle.

  Her heart sank when she realized Wrexel had blocked all of her Comms and locked down his wing. She was desperate to see Whyle to tell him that the curse was in full effect but had no way of getting out and thus far, no one had contacted her.

  She looked around the empty wing filled with vivid reminders of the love they had briefly shared and sat at the front door, sobbing anew.

  Shihlo stood with Whyle and Staede on the other side of the door.

  He regretted letting her go with Wrexel the night before, especially now that they could not confirm all was well.

  He demanded to know more from Wrexel, but after taking to the sky without explanation, Wrexel ignored him. Shihlo was beside himself with anxiety. Inndra’s countdown agreement with the Monarch was ticking away and all their attempts to locate him or thwart Gilroth had failed. He didn’t need the additional drama of his brother and Amber when they had so little time left to find Inndra. Instead of trying to unlock his Black Tower before Gilroth got his hands on it via a trade with Inndra, Whyle was mounting a contraption upon the door that he claimed would at least allow them to see Amber.

  It wasn’t working.

  Much like anything they had planned of late to get ahead of the Monarch.

  “Let’s blow the entrance away,” Staede suggested.

  “If that were a possibility, I would have done it already. We can’t do that and secure her safety,” Whyle shouted. “Don’t you have somebody’s wife to fuck elsewhere?”

  Shihlo silenced them. “I’m sure he would not hurt her and leave her unattended after disabling her wrist monitor.” He spoke for their benefit because he honestly believed that when it came to Amber, there was no telling what Wrexel would do.

  He also feared what they would find once they could see Amber. If she was hurt in any way, Whyle or Staede – or perhaps both – would kill Wrexel.

  God, he would kill Wrexel if he had harmed her.

  When the device fluttered and the sight of her slumped against the door they had probed came into view, the brothers exclaimed in horror.

  * * *

  For a long time, Amber lay in a heap. Eventually, the repeated flashes of light they emitted through the partly transparent door penetrated her haze and she sat up, staring through the glass that now showed three Thromians squashed together, trying to gain her attention.

  They looked enraged and at first, she shrank from them, thinking they were angry.

  Then she realized they were concerned.

  Amber began to talk to them urgently, to tell them that Wrexel had lost his mind, that he needed help but they showed her they could not hear.

  She nodded and ran for her small viewing monitor and wrote with a free hand on the sketching pad.

  Can you get me out?

  Wrexel needs help.

  She held it up.

  The brothers stared at the monitor, then at each other.

  Nobody read English.

  The translator embedded in their ears worked on sound.

  “What is she saying?” Shihlo asked Whyle.

  “It’s human.” He shrugged. “How the hell am I supposed to know? Programming Thromian monitors to read human for the one human on Throm was never a priority.”

  Amber lowered the monitor, realizing that they could not read English.

  Tears started flowing afresh.

  “My God, we don’t know if she’s hurt or needs something.”

  “Try Wrexel again,” Staede suggested and all three of them attempted but there was still no reply.

  “We have to talk to her, find out what the hell’s going on... we can’t leave her here indefinitely while her psychotic husband ignores us.”

  Whyle shut his eyes, which had been locked on the disheveled Amber. “You don’t think he…”

  “No,” Shihlo said firmly. “He wouldn’t hurt her like that.”

  “Then why is she lying on the floor, sobbing, with nobody to attend to her, not even a fucking medical droid?” Staede growled. “He threw everybody out of his wing; we need to know what he did to her and find out what his plans are.”

  Shihlo suddenly leapt up, held up his hand with an encouraging smile, and darted off. Amber watched him leave in panic but then Whyle offered her a thumbs-up.

  She responded in kind but her hand shook and lowered when Staede came into view. He put his palm upon the door, flattening it out. The look he gave her spoke volumes.

  Whyle scowled when she placed her hand against his and looked back at him with equal care.

  “What is going on between you and her?” he demanded. “I was certain she loved Wrexel, but that embrace…” He had never seen a more loving kiss.

  Staede merely scowled. “That’s between her and me.”

  “There is no you and Amber…”

  “As I said, it’s none of your business.”

  “She’s my wife too,” Whyle raged but Staede only became more sullen.

  Amber watched them break into an argument and hopelessly hugged her knees.

  Soon they broke apart and both began to pace, taking brief gaps to speak into their monitors and upon occasion show her an encouraging thumbs-up, which she no longer returned.

  When Shihlo came into view again, Amber darted to her feet in joy and amazement.

  She spread both hands upon the door and cried anew, bashing on it, wishing more than ever that she could be set free.

  * * *

  Sam put her palms against Amber’s, her face stricken as she realized Amber could not hear her.

  “Is she locked in there? Who locked her in there? Was it Wrexel?” Sam asked as she moved her hands over the glass.

  “Yes.”

  Sam froze and stood up, then slowly turned toward Shihlo with an extended finger. “You told me that she was accidently stuck, and that you needed me to read her notes. When I swore to keep this a secret, I did not realize that the vile bastard you call a brother had hurt her and locked her away.”

  Shihlo looked ashamed and murmured some kind of response, but Sam was having none of it. “Why have you been lying to me?”

  Whyle and Staede stared as she began to poke his large chest, certain that Shihlo would do something more than shuffle back and apologize.

  “Sam…” Shihlo grasped her finger gently.

  “Don’t.” She snatched it away.

  Staede’s mouth dropped open when he saw his usually controlled and authoritative brother caving before a girl who barely reached his sternum.

  “Who is she?” He ran his eyes over her petite frame and bouncing blond curls.

  “She’s his ward,” Whyle grinned.

  Staede snorted. “Why didn’t you just get a Thromian hellcat? I think it would have been a better-behaved pet.”

  Sam swung around and turned her wrath on him. “Did I ask you a question?” she snapped, her blue eyes flashing in outrage. “Did we need a fun anecdote from Throm’s number-one player?”

  Staede’s mouth opened in amusement but he did not respond when Shihlo gave him a threatening look.

  “Can you read her monitor?” Whyle asked impatiently and then regretted it when she cast her angry gaze in his direction. “Ah, husband number two. Not doing a very good job of protecting her, are you?”

  Whyle stared right through her. “Are you able to do what we asked you to come here for?” he replied with equal sarcasm.

  Sam turned to face the door; she read the words Amber held up:

  Can you get me out?

  Sam took the monitor Shihlo held out for her and wrote furiously.

  I don’t think the Three Musketeers here can get you out. They keep asking me if you are okay. What the eff is going on? Shihlo has been swearing to me that you are happy and safe. I feel so deceived.

  She a
dded a sad face emoji.

  Amber smiled despite herself. She had missed Sam desperately.

  What’s going on? Sam waved the board again.

  I had a fight with Wrexel; he locked me up. I think the brothers and Whyle are worried that he hurt me.

  Well, did he?

  No.

  “Wrexel locked her in here,” Sam told the three waiting Thromians. “They had a fight.”

  “No shit.” Staede snorted at her and began to ask other questions but Whyle interrupted him. “Why is her face swollen? What did he do to her?”

  Sam looked at the shadows under Amber’s eyes.

  Did he hurt you? You look like hell.

  I’ve been crying a lot.

  Sad face emoji.

  Amber continued writing. Tell Shihlo he took Banjo and Leyahanna, said I would never see them again. Please, please ask them to find them.

  You had Banjo? Sam was aghast.

  Amber began to cry afresh.

  How did you get Banjo?

  Wrexel gave him to me as a gift after we left Earth.

  The monster fetched her dog. Maybe the monster had a soft side.

  Why did you fight?

  Amber shook her head.

  Sam turned to the trio. “Why did they fight?

  Shihlo and Whyle glared at Staede.

  Staede folded his arms defensively. “He read more into the kiss than necessary. Besides, why am I on trial when he’s the one who fucked up?”

  Sam’s eyes widened when Shihlo lost it. “You knew that she was angry with Wrexel. You should have shown restraint!”

  “He doesn’t know the meaning,” Whyle growled.

  Staede ignored them and turned to Sam. “Tell her I’m sorry. I should have known better, but if she wants to be with me, I’ll fight Wrexel.”

  “Don’t you dare write that,” Shihlo told Sam.

  “Ask her instead if she has tried unlocking the door with the codes she used in the past,” Whyle intervened. “But first tell her that if Wrexel has hurt her, I will take this to the Room of Decisions and petition for her to be with me alone.”