Awaken

by Tanya Schofield

  The flat, keyless lock was hidden under her hair, but Garen had confirmed it was of extraordinary quality. Melody would wear this piece for the rest of her days, his enchantments ensuring that it would not be removed by any other means, and that her magic would be available only when he allowed it—

  She was watching him. Her eyes were wide, both nervous and suspicious. There was a hint of defiance in them as well, he saw. It meant she would try to resist him again, and that pleased him. He stood, and her gaze followed him, but she did not move. She didn’t even try. He caressed her with his eyes, his gaze roving over her naked body. When he was sure she was watching, he licked his lips. The remaining effects of his push had faded, but even so, she was near irresistible.

  “You'll want to stop looking at me like that, girl.” He sat on the tiny cot right up beside her, cupped the yellowed bruise on the side of her face in one rough hand. “You tempt me too much.”

  She dropped her eyes from his, trying to move away, to turn her face from his touch. His hand moved up to clench a fistful of her hair, holding her still.

  “Be still,” he commanded. “I mean you no harm, Melody. I have never wanted to hurt you.” His voice had gone soft, almost gentle. “If I have, I am deeply, truly sorry.” He leaned closer, breathing the sweet scent of her hair, bringing his other hand up to cup one of her exposed breasts. By the Lich, she was enticing. He shook his head as if to clear it.

  “There was simply too little time to handle this any other way. I confess, I am no simple fighter. I should not have lied. I never want to give you reason not to trust in me.” His hand was stroking her body as he spoke, her hair still clutched in his other fist.

  “I feared that you would not understand, and those men with you— It was better if I waited until you were alone.”

  Silent tears dripped down Melody’s cheeks, but Garen did not seem to notice.

  “My name is Garen Tambor, and I am the Chancellor to Duke Korith, but Melody, you must not fear me.” He was insistent, pulling his hand free of her hair and standing, pacing. “He is a fool. He wanted me to kill you. Kill you! As if I would. He is afraid of you, but I am not. I saw it in your eyes, Melody, you sensed my magic. You knew. We are alike, you and I.” He returned to the bed, cradling her face in his hands.

  “I have searched for you for years. I have dreamt about this moment since I first learned of your existence.” He leaned close, searching her eyes for submission.

  Melody was nauseous, cold, and terrified. A spark of curiosity flickered in her at his words, however. He was not lying. She could feel it. What he was telling her, at least in his own mind, was absolute truth.

  “Korith doesn’t see, he can’t understand about magic, about true power. But you … you must know why magic is as vital as breathing, what it can do.” Distracted by the nearness of her lips, he indulged himself in a kiss before continuing. “Melody, you are unlike anything I’ve seen. Your gifts— Do you even know what you are capable of?”

  His hands were once again roaming over her skin, and Melody could take no more. She desperately tried to roll away from him, pulling up her knees and twisting her body. With a fierce slap across her face, Garen grabbed her bound hands and pinned them over her head. The collar tightened around her neck, and she choked, gasping for air.

  “You are mine,” he told her, eyes flashing. “I collared you. I possess you, on every level. You serve me.” His voice changed again, cajoling. “But it doesn’t have to be that way. You must believe me, I have given this more thought than you can imagine. You are far too dangerous now, but once you understand, once you agree … it can be different. It will be perfect.”

  Melody, writhing helplessly as she struggled to breathe, could hear the truth in his words. However strange and awful, he believed them with all his heart. Garen released her arms, but kept his hand on her neck, absentmindedly tugging at the gleaming ring in the collar.

  “Can you imagine it? With you at my side, your power mine to command, I can bring magic back into the world. With your help, I can take my rightful place as ruler, and the nobles will bow before the strength of my kingdom.” His eyes were distant; he had been imagining this for a very long time.

  “Korith will fall, and without his policies to unite them, the other nobles will look to find a new leader. And I will be there, with you at my side. Together we will guide them, lead them. Once they understand the power that is in us, they will not dare to oppose us.”

  Caught up in the vision, Garen let himself surrender to his desire. She was impossible to resist, so full of power and yet helpless, completely under his control. He bent his head to her again, biting at her lips and neck. Her tears came in a breathless flood, the strangled whimpers driving him past the point of control. He forced her bruised, trembling legs apart with his knees and pushed into her, thrilling as she struggled against the invasion.

  A sharp knock at the basement door interrupted his assault, and Garen flashed an angry look towards the stairs. Only two men knew where he was.

  Melody caught several awkward, hitching breaths the moment Garen pushed himself off of her and reached for his trousers. Before he could finish dressing, the door opened. Tovar – or was it Tomal – bounded down the stairs two at a time with the grace of a cat.

  “I said not before dawn,” the Chancellor snapped.

  “Forgive me, Lord Garen, but the Duke has sent soldiers.”

  Melody watched as Garen looked back at her, then quickly drew the handsome young Guard Captain up the stairs and closed the door behind them. She immediately pulled her legs up to her chest, curling to one side and sobbing as much as the collar would allow. She pulled at it with her numb fingers, but it was secure. Only by remaining motionless was she able to catch her breath. The door above opened again and Garen returned, looking less than pleased.

  “I have business to attend to, my beloved. Up you go.” Garen didn’t wait, hauling her to her feet by the rope between her wrists, pushing her to the room’s center post. In moments he had knotted another length of rope from the ring in her collar to something above her head, tightening it so she had to stand on her toes to relieve the pressure on her neck. “There’s a good girl. I’ll return when I can.” He kissed her mouth again, biting hungrily at her lower lip, and then he was gone, up the stairs and on his way.

  Melody shifted her weight from one foot to the other, trying to find a way to stand that didn’t hurt some part of her. It was impossible. She brought her bound hands to her neck, exploring with numb fingers the skilled knot that tethered her. The pain of forcing her bound wrists into position to work at the rope was dizzying, there was no way she could continue.

  Frustrated tears blurred her vision, but she turned and twisted, desperate for some way out. She looked up, the collar cutting off her breath entirely, and caught sight of the hook above her head. Garen had run the rope from the collar to the hook, but the knot was at her neck. Melody looked again, making sure. The rope was simply looped over the hook. If she could relieve the tension, she could flip it free. But how?

  Her feet and legs were cramping from the strain of being stretched, and tiny flashes of lights danced in the corners of her vision. If she was going to get free she had to go up, but with her hands bound as they were, there was no way to grab the post itself. Melody looked up again, gauging the distance to the hook. She flexed her fingers as much as she could, finding some strength despite the numbness. She’d better act now.

  Melody took as deep a breath as she could, then reached up and twisted her hands in the rope. She pulled with all her might, wrapping her legs around the post to steady herself. Her thighs burned with the effort and the bite of countless splinters, but she thrust herself upwards and grabbed the rope again, pulling with her arms until she could readjust her legs. Years of climbing trees had given her the strength she needed, but the choking collar stole her air, dimmed her vision. She forced one more push, one more reach. Just a little further—

  The rope went
slack, and she supported herself with her aching legs long enough to flip it free of the hook. With nothing to hold on to, though, Melody fell to the stable floor when her legs gave out. She landed heavily, but there was no breath to knock out of her. She lay still, gasping and trembling, every part of her feeling bruised – but she was free of the post.

  Thinking to use her teeth to loosen the knot, Melody brought her bound wrists to her mouth. The knot, however, was positioned on the far side of her hands, she couldn’t reach it. Tears dripped steadily from her eyes, but there was no time. She had no idea when Garen Tambor may return, but she could not be here when he did. She fought to her feet, and tried again to reach out, find her connection with Jovan. The foul-tasting magic at her throat was like a cage around her magic— nothing worked, and no words would come.

  Her torn dress was still crumpled on the floor by the stairs, her new pendant in the dirt beside it. She pulled the chain of the pendant over her head, and awkwardly struggled to pull the dress up around her. Her bound wrists protested painfully at the motions, but Melody twisted and tugged until the fabric was up over her breasts. Her hair covered her back and shoulders, the rope at her neck was under the dress – perhaps she wouldn’t draw too much notice on her way to the Inn. Jovan would be there, she told herself. Jovan would help.

  She felt a brief flash of panic at the top of the steep stairs. She was suddenly certain that Garen could not be gone, that he was waiting for her or had left a guard. The stable held only horses, though, sleeping uneasily in the ominous stillness of the looming storm that would not break. Heart pounding, she stepped into the street.

  It only took her a few minutes to get her bearings in the pre-dawn light, and she could see the Inn from where she stood. The distance didn’t matter, she told herself. The pain didn’t matter. Just find Jovan, one agonizing step at a time. Get to the Inn. Get to Jovan. Jovan would fix it. He had to. Eyes down. Keep walking. Into the Inn—

  “Melody?”

  Her knees weakened with relief at Jovan’s voice, and the tears came unbidden.

  “Where have you been?” His voice was hurt, almost accusatory, but she had no way to tell him. She reached out, touching the fabric of his shirt with her numb, purple fingers, and then he saw.

  When he had woken from his deep, unintentional sleep, Melody was gone. That had worried him, but it was nothing like the panic when he had reached for that quiet place they shared … and found nothing at all. Finding her now, like this – it was worse than all of that. Jovan wasted no time. He swept his own cloak off and around her, lifted her in his arms, and headed up the stairs two at a time.

  “I’ve got you,” Jovan said quietly. “I’m here.” He set her on the bed and worked on the tightly knotted rope at her wrists. It was expertly tied, but after a few moments he had her hands free and was trying to rub some warmth into her freezing fingers. There was blood on the ropes, and her wrists. “Melody, what happened?”

  She guided his hand to her neck, unable to explain.

  Jovan frowned, taking a close look at the collar around her neck. He ran his fingers over it, following it under her hair, finding the flat lock. Lifting her mass of curls, he saw his fingertips had not been wrong – there was no keyhole. It was not meant to come off. Ever. His unfocused anger grew.

  “I’ve got to cut it,” he said, meeting her tear-swollen eyes. “It’s— It’s locked.”

  She nodded, trying to stay calm. Jovan produced a knife and began sharpening it, the noise filling the silence, twisting her stomach with the memories it conjured. But not even the visions of her past were as terrifying as Garen’s imagined future for her. If it meant she would be free of the hateful thing, she would welcome the sound of stone and steel.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” Jovan said, trying to slip his finger between her skin and the collar, but it was too tight. How could she even breathe? His anger was escalating, a rage so great it should have made Melody shrink away from him, but she couldn’t feel it. He couldn’t feel her. This was no simple piece of leather.

  “Lich’s minions, this thing is tight. Can you lay down, Melody? I need to get a better angle.”

  She obediently lay back on the cot, pulling her hair and the pendant out of Jovan’s way. The collar felt tighter in this position, but she would endure anything to help him release her.

  “I’m going to start,” he warned, bracing one hand against her head. “Be still.”

  Two things happened the moment he made the first scratch in the fine leather. Melody recoiled as the sharp, high ringing started up in her mind, and Jovan dropped the dagger and clapped a hand to his own neck.

  “By the Break,” he cursed, bringing his fingers back bloody. “How is that even possible?”

  Tears welled up again in Melody’s eyes. Garen had used magic on it, she realized, and not just to keep her own power blocked. The collar was also protected against any efforts to remove it. She could almost hear the Chancellor laughing.

  Jovan took a deep breath. “I’m going to try again. Can you handle it?”

  Struggling to breathe through her tears, Melody clenched her aching hands into fists and nodded again.

  Jovan gritted his teeth. Cutting the leather created an identical cut on his neck, so he relocated his efforts further back, well behind her ear. He still might bleed out before he got the cursed thing off of her, but he’d last longer slicing into the muscle.

  The pain was extraordinary, and progress was slow, but Jovan persisted. Quick, precise, and deep, he aligned each new cut on top of the one before it until his blood ran as freely as Melody’s tears.

  “We’re almost there,” he told her, pausing to catch his breath before realigning the knife for another pass. His shirt was drenched with blood, his arm was already numb. Jovan knew with cold certainty that he wouldn’t survive. The least he could do was succeed.

  She struggled to stay still for him, but the shrieking whine in her head was an agonizing, unstoppable madness. The pressure against the sides of her throat grew with each new cut Jovan made. Melody’s hands fluttered against the cot and her eyes opened, seeking out Jovan’s as her chest heaved and her face reddened. She couldn’t breathe at all.

  “Hold on,” he pleaded, breathless. He shifted his body weight to keep her neck motionless as she thrashed in her panic. Two more cuts on the leather, as hard as he could bear down, drew an involuntary groan from his lips and sent a sudden warm rush of blood down his back and chest.

  The last cut was the deepest. He sat back when the leather finally surrendered, allowing Melody the space to finally breathe. Her panic and pain swept through him in a flood, and Jovan managed a weak smile. He could feel her again. She would live. He wanted to pull her into his arms, offer her some comfort— but there was only cold, dizzy nausea. He swayed, trying to focus on her face as his sight dimmed.

  Jovan! Melody guided his fall to the cot, still struggling to breathe. Jovan’s blood was everywhere, coating her hands where she touched him and soaking the mattress even before she could lay him down. The smell of it was thick in her nose, and still it came, running off the cot and onto the floor from the wound in his neck. His neck— Melody’s stomach turned violently at the sight of the flayed skin and exposed muscle.

  “No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “No, please.” She directed her magic not with music, but with a prayer: Please, Goddess, let him live. The Power came, fierce and full, wrapping her in the smell and memory of water and wind and sunlight. Melody curled over Jovan, laying her cheek on his blood-soaked chest.

  Please, she prayed again, her own heart stuttering with Jovan’s as his life waned. Please, please let him live. A momentary whisper of fresh air caressed her forehead, and Melody knew he would survive. Her sigh of relief became a storm of weeping as the reality of what had happened overwhelmed her.

  When Jovan regained consciousness, Melody was still shaking against him, sobbing silently onto his chest, and he put his arms around her. She had saved his life. A
gain.

  “I’ve got you,” he whispered. “I’m here."

  Fresh sobs tore through her, and he simply held on. The skin of her back was bare under his hands, and he could feel the torn fabric of her dress as he stroked her. He didn’t want to think about what she had been through, but he had to know.

  “Melody?” He kept his voice as gentle as he could. “Who did this to you?”

  “Garen.” She hadn’t meant to say it aloud, but it was too late.

  Jovan felt the full force of her experience slam into him - he suddenly knew exactly who the disqualified fighter was, exactly what he had done to Melody, and why. He also knew, intimately, what it had felt like for her, how it still felt. Sick fury tightened in his gut.

  I’m so sorry, she sent, feeling his unrestrained anger. I didn’t know until it was too late, and he is so powerful…

  He laid his lips on her forehead and stroked her hair. “No. This is on him. And I swear on the soul of my father, I will make him pay.”

  Melody craned her neck, still feeling as though she couldn’t get enough air. I couldn’t— He was— She shuddered. If the soldiers hadn’t needed him, I might still be—

  Instantly tense, Jovan sat up, bringing her with him. “Soldiers? Do you mean the town guard?”

  No, she sent, furrowing her brow. The Guard Captain came, he said the Duke had sent soldiers. Garen left with him. It took only a moment for her to understand why Jovan was suddenly on his feet, and her red-gold eyes widened. Kaeliph! Kaeliph had told her the Duke was why he and Jovan were running. And now the soldiers were here, and Kaeliph was with—

  “Kallisti.” Jovan’s voice was flat, but his stomach was sick as he remembered her slapping at him, telling him she was still angry. She had meant it. And she had his brother. He tucked in his bloody shirt as Melody slipped her arms into the sleeves of her dress and pulled her cloak on to cover the torn back.