She’d been so comfortable with her powers before. It was strange to have it feel so foreign to her now, like an enemy living within her skin. But perhaps there was hope. Samira possessed the same powers, had lived with them for many years, had learned to control it. Under her guidance, maybe she could feel comfortable in her own body again, to feel in control once more. “At one point that might have been true, but now…”
“How does it feel?”
“Strange,” she admitted. “I know so little of Samira but I feel like I can trust her, that she can show me how to control this. I’m afraid of what might happen should I let this power out. And if it should fall into the wrongs hands…”
Elfrind.
He’d almost gotten a hold of her power, had almost taken it from her. In her mind she could see the ocean shifting, changing from blue to black, corrupted waves rising to swallow everything. If Samira and the Seeker hadn’t arrived in time, if they hadn’t managed to break down the wall…
She thought back to their arrival, to the struggle they’d had with Elfrind. Things had been a blur, her mind reeling from pain both physical and mental, but hadn’t she seen something strange? The Seeker had taken a blow to the face, one side of her mask shattering. And when she’d turned, Kirheen had looked upon herself, a direct mirror of her own face. It seemed crazy, some conjuration of her own mind reacting to the odd encounters she’d had with the Seeker, and yet…
“Tomias, when you were fighting, did you see the Seeker’s mask break?” The question felt stupid, but as she watched Tomias straighten, watched him struggle for words, she wondered if it wasn’t so stupid after all.
“Yeah, I think so. Everything happened so fast.”
“Saw the mask break or the similarity?”
“What do you mean?” Tomias asked, his voice unwavering. However, she did not miss the fidgeting of his hand, how he clenched his fist to stop it.
“When her mask broke, I don’t know, it was like seeing myself, older maybe, but similar. It just seemed odd. I don’t know why I’m even bringing it up.”
“Kir, you’re under a lot of stress. We all are. I don’t know what you did or didn’t see, but I’m sure there is an explanation.”
He was hiding something, holding back. After being tortured by her, he’d become like a skittish rabbit anytime she appeared in the room. And Kirheen had not missed her glances, the way she stared. “Tomias, please. What aren’t you telling me? What do you know?”
His lips tightened, a thin line keeping his secrets at bay. “I know that I’m terrified of her,” he said. “I know that she tortured me, that she broke my mind, and that given the right motivation, she’d do so again.”
“So afraid of her that you won’t tell me the truth?”
His eyes narrowed. “Kirheen, I don’t know what you saw. I’ve never seen her face, I don’t know what she looks like. Maybe she does look like you, who knows. If you’re so inclined, go rip her mask off yourself. At least you could stand against her when she retaliates.”
Kirheen felt hollow, as empty as the hole his words punched through her heart. Her mouth was dry, filled with bitter words dying on her tongue. Her stomach coiled into knots, and she squirmed, the pain forcing her into movement. Is he betraying me? Her mind wasn’t safe. She was hearing voices. Was it too farfetched that she might be seeing things too? Feeling defeated, she hung her head. It would be so easy to just reach out with her power, to find the answer for herself, but that would be a betrayal of a different sort and they had promised each other never to go down that path. They shared minds often, but even his mind had shadows, dark corners that she’d never get to see. And you’ve secrets of your own, don’t you?
“I’m sorry, Tomias. I’m tired. I’m stressed. Maybe I did hit my head after all.” She looked to him, watched how his shoulders slumped as she changed the subject, his posture relaxing.
“Kir, it’s going to be okay. There is a lot going on. Just one step at a time, right?”
“Right,” she said, unable to shake the unease settling in her bones. Whatever he was hiding, whatever he was afraid to tell, she’d figure it out sooner or later. “Let’s go meet up with the others.”
CHAPTER 17
“Keha’ro. Keha’ro, wake up!”
Far away. So far, far away. A voice scraped against the outer edges of his consciousness, trying to pull him from warmth, from safety. He was curled against his power, radiant and warm, like the sun shining bright over the desert. The outsider reached for him, only to be driven back as his power roared up in defense.
Despite the peace he felt, there was something nagging him, a scab on his skin he couldn’t stop picking. What am I forgetting? There was something he’d meant to do, some task he’d needed to complete. His power was keeping him safe, but it was blocking him from the outside. He had to know.
He stretched himself up and out, feeling his power grow in intensity, daring him to leave, to stray too far. This is my choice. My power does not control me. He spun back towards it, pushing against it with equal ferocity. It shrank back as if scolded, folding in on itself, freeing its claws where they’d sunk in so deep.
“Wake up.”
He opened his eyes, blinking away sleep, squinting against the mid-day sun sending shafts of light through crumbling stone overhead. Sand, cold and gritty, dug into his skin and clung to his clothes. It wasn’t the greatest of his discomforts. His chest burned, a dull fire sending shockwaves of pain throughout his body. He groaned, shifting onto his side, and pushed himself up.
Seated, his hand wandered to his chest. Something sharp and unyielding met his fingertips and he nearly jumped, frantically digging at his shirt to get to whatever lie beneath. What he found turned out to be crystals, all varying sizes and all emerging from his skin like some grotesque nightmare. They glowed softly and Keha’ro grimaced.
He forced himself to breathe and tried to remain calm. His eyes rose from his chest, wandering the room he’d hidden in. Several bodies lay nearby, their faces stretched in terror. He could not see blood in the dark sand, but he could smell it, the air tinged with copper. Something had crept over their still forms, something dark and moving. It spread over their bodies in thin rivulets, pinning them to the ground.
“Keha’ro,” a familiar voice said. “Stay calm. Let me help you.”
Keha’ro put his head in his hands. He tried to remember what had happened before pain had pulled him under. They’d been trying to reach him, to take him back to Korinth. They’d recognized what was happening to him and he’d seen the lust in their eyes, their desire for power. “Did I kill them, Ril? Did I do this?”
Ril was silent, the stone face momentarily going dark. “Your power protected you, as did I. If they get to you, Keha’ro, things will not end well for this world.”
“What is this?” Keha’ro pleaded, gesturing towards his chest. “What do you know?”
“You’ve awakened a new power. This happened to others long ago, but I can’t remember. My memories have faded. It’s like trying to see through a dirty window and I can’t quite make out the whole picture. I’m sorry, Keha’ro. I’m trying to remember. I’m trying. It was just…so…long…ago.”
Keha’ro choked back a sob. “It’s fine, Ril. It’s fine. Just keep trying to remember.”
“You’ll need to stay calm. If you fear for your life, if you become anxious, that corruption will grow beyond your control. I’ll help you hold it back, but we can’t stay here. They will send more. An entire army if that is what it takes. I can see it in their minds. And something else looms, far away. Do you feel it? Do you hear it?”
He focused, closing his eyes and listening to the sounds around him. He could hear the wind, the shifting of sand as it fell through cracks. And was that…a song? His power leapt in response, churning as if recognizing an old friend. It was faint, far away, but there was no mistake that he was hearing it. “What is that?”
“Either friend or foe, but they share your fate. Keha’r
o, we need to keep moving.”
“I need you with me, Ril. I can’t just leave.”
“I know. You will need to shatter this image and take a piece of me with you. The full extent of my power will remain, but I will have enough to help. Hurry. We need to keep moving.”
Keha’ro staggered to his feet, reaching inside himself towards his power. It was so vast, an endless ocean. The potential was limitless. With tentative fingers, he grasped at his power, drew upon it bit by bit. He could feel it swell, growing and growing. Were he careless, that power would consume everyone.
He focused on the stone face, on his only friend. He drew back his fist, let the power flow through his arm and burn through his fingertips. With a cry, he struck forward, driving a wave of power against the stone. A flurry of sand and dust exploded into the air, the sound of shattering stone reverberating through the room. The face crumbled, slivers of rock pelting him as he staggered away from the destruction.
Wiping gritty sand out of his face, Keha’ro examined the room, feeling panicked as he looked at stone pieces gone dark. He bent down, grasping a cold stone fragment in his hand. “Ril? Ril!? Are you okay? Please, say something.”
“Extraordinary,” Ril said, the shattered stone fragments glowing softly. “Even that small bit of power – it was incredible. You’ll need to control this, or else it might end up controlling you.”
Keha’ro let the air out of his lungs. “You scared me, Ril! I thought I hurt you.”
Ril chuckled, the sound the softest of chimes ringing in his head. “I am made of stone, Keha’ro. No harm has come to me. We need to get moving. I’ll need to travel with you, but you can’t risk losing me. I have an idea, but you might not like it.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“Well, I need you to stab a shard of me into your body.”
“Uh, Ril, wouldn’t that hurt? I don’t think that’s possible.”
“Your body is different now. Changed. Your arm would be best. Open up a spot and place me inside. You’ll heal quickly.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I don’t understand what you’re asking of me,” he explained, hoping for more – more words, more time, more understanding. Everything was a jumbled mess inside his head. “What am I doing?”
“We don’t have time. One of those men is carrying a dagger. Use it.”
Keha’ro clutched the stone close and moved towards one of the fallen soldiers. As he reached down, the black corruption squirmed back from his hand and Keha’ro shuddered. He wanted to look closer, to study the strange, shimmering blight that had come leaking out of his body, but there was so little time. He grasped the hilt of a dagger, pulled it free from the belt of the nearest soldier. The blade gleamed in the light, curved and wicked.
“Now, uh, you want me to do what?”
Ril sighed. “Look, just make a small cut on your hand. Watch. See.”
Keha’ro swallowed hard, his eyes growing larger as he looked at the curved blade. With a shaky hand, he set the stone shard down at his feet, then planted himself in the sand next to it. He lifted his free hand, the one not clutching the dagger with a sweaty palm, and before he could give it a second thought, he drew the edge of the blade across his hand.
A trail of fire followed the line of the blade, blood welling to the surface where it had parted his skin. His power surged, chest warming, growing hotter and hotter until it was almost as uncomfortable as the cut. The crystals flared to life, glowing brightly. A strange ripple spread across his palm and he watched in disbelief as the wound knit itself shut.
He blinked, unsure of what he’d just witnessed. “Ril?”
“You doubted me,” the stone chided. “You’ll heal whether the injury is big or small. It will not be without pain, but you’ll survive.”
“Why? How is this even possible?”
“There is something you must do, some connection you must make but…”
“You can’t remember.”
“I’m sorry, Keha’ro. It is difficult.”
“I understand, friend.” He picked up the fragment of rock again, turning it over and over in his hand. “You want me to…put this in my arm?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re sure I won’t die?”
“Fairly.”
Despite his unease, Keha’ro laughed. “Gods, that’s not very reassuring.” He held the blade aloft, watched the light dance across the metal. Taking a deep breath, he dragged the blade across his arm, a line just long enough to slip the stone into. He gasped, the overwhelming pain making him drop the dagger. Warmth flooded his arm and panic followed.
“Keha’ro! The stone! Do it now!”
Focus, focus, focus!
He snatched up the stone, screaming through gritted teeth as he slipped it into the incision. His chest grew hotter than before, a sweltering heat that filled his body and burned away at the injury. He watched as his arm flickered and changed, watched as the edges of the wound folded out, two hands meeting to touch in the middle. He blinked and the wound was sealed, no trace save for a small lump beneath his skin and bright blood, slick and warm where it coated his skin.
A shuddering breath slipped past his lips and he laid back in the sand, unable to stop the laughter that followed. Laughter turned to tears. “What am I, Ril? Gods, what am I?”
“My friend,” Ril replied. The stone glowed beneath his skin, a comforting light. “Now dry your tears. We must keep moving.”
CHAPTER 18
Kirheen stood in the throne room, surrounded by friends and strangers alike. Tomias hovered to her right, and though he stood close, the chasm between them felt immense. She couldn’t shake the feeling that he was hiding something from her, that he was holding back. Her eyes roamed, settling on the Seeker standing to the far side of the room. Her mask had been hastily repaired, a jagged line marking where it had been shattered by Elfrind. So, I saw that much.
Her power swelled, tingling all the way through to her fingertips. It would be so easy to reach out, to tear into her mind and see what secrets she was hiding. Easy - and dangerous. Maybe it was better if she didn’t know. Maybe it was easier. The world was at stake and her pining for answers to a question she didn’t even know how to ask was not helping.
Samira stood in the center of the room, pacing like a cat as she waited for Garild to join them. Quiet chatter created a constant hum as those from Sanctuary exchanged smiles and stories, clumped in the corner away from the others. Lillana sat on the throne, her eyes glued to the barrier held in place by the Seekers, her advisor at her side.
The corruption had ceased its assault on the barrier, drawing back into itself. It ran lazy circles around the room, biding its time. It was unnerving to watch.
Samira’s head snapped up at the sound of footsteps and Garild walked into the room, a strange sort of confidence to his stride. He had changed so much since she’d left him behind. He’d conquered the anger that had plagued him, becoming poised and confident in himself and his abilities. She could feel his power, could sense how it had solidified, morphing into something formidable under the tutelage of Samira.
They’d finally been reunited, the wound between them mended, but there was little time to enjoy it. In a cruel twist of fate, they were pulled in opposite directions once more. He caught her eye as he settled in next to Burk and Abby. There was a soft brush of power against her barriers, a silent greeting carried across the room.
“I’ll make this brief,” Samira said, drawing everyone’s attention, power flaring like a torch. “Our ship will be arriving soon. I wish there was more time for introductions, but time is something we are running short on. Val’shar is in danger.” She pointed her index finger towards the barrier. “Behind that barrier is a corruption that we know all too little about. Our job right now is to keep those barriers intact. If they fall, Val’shar could very well fall with it. My student, Garild, as well as his friends, will be staying here in Val’shar to aid the Seekers with this ta
sk. You also have the Raven to worry about. Something will need to be done about him and his followers. You’ve all got enough to worry about without them harrying the castle. As for Kirheen and myself, we’ll be heading to Korinth in pursuit of Elfrind. I’ve no time for details, but Garild can fill you in.”
Kirheen watched how the room seemed to lean forward, latching on to her every word, her every movement. She was a natural born leader, decisive and strong, and Kirheen envied the ease with which she directed. She was glad it would be Samira helping her gain control of her powers, though she still doubted it was even possible. Inside was a roaring maw of untamed energy and she shrank away from it, fearing her own potential. Even Elfrind had barely tapped into that vast well.
“He awoke first,” a thousand voices echoed in her mind. “He was meant to change things, to prevent the coming of the end. He used prophecy to fuel his own fear and in doing so nearly doomed us all.”
Stop. Stop. Stop.
She wondered if Samira was plagued by the same voices, ringing so loudly, a thousand bells tolling inside her head, but the thought of asking scared her. Am I going mad?
“Kir,” Tomias said softly, his hand brushing against hers. “Everything okay?”
“I’m fine,” she reassured him, giving his hand a quick squeeze. “It’s just my powers acting up again.”
“Your job here is important,” Samira continued. “If Val’shar falls, so too does the world. Please do not let that happen.” Finished with her speech, she approached Kirheen. “We really need to get your power under control. You’re making everyone in this room uncomfortable just standing here.”
“Well, that’s a nice way of putting it,” Tomias chided.
“It’s only the truth. I’ve got control over my powers and I still have quite an effect on people when I walk in the room. I have to say, I’m quite impressed. Elfrind managed to drain away enough to be a problem, but you’re still brimming with power. Still, I worry about what we go to face. Elfrind seems to have a remarkable level of control over the corruption. If he uses that at will… I wonder if we’ll be enough.”
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