Fingers wrapped around her shoulders, pulled her close. His eyes found hers and the pain in them, the fear, made her want to cry. “Kir, you’re strong. You’re wonderful. And you deserve the truth. So, take it from me. Reach into my mind and take it. I won’t stop you.”
“Don’t make me do this,” she said.
He gave her a weary smile. “I’m tired of keeping this locked away. I’m as good as dead anyway when she finds out you know, and you’ll probably kill me first for keeping it from you. If I’m to die because of it, I’d rather it be by you. Just…please. We have this gift for a reason. Maybe you’ll understand why I’ve stayed quiet. And if not, you’ve earned the right to rebreak my mind while you’re in there.”
“Stop. Don’t say that. I wouldn’t…”
He reached for her hands, and Kirheen shivered. They were cold, fear having driven the warmth out of them. He knelt before her and closed his eyes, guiding her hands up to either side of his face. Fingertips traced familiar terrain, brushing through his hair before settling at his temples. She could feel the tension of his jaw, his teeth clamped tight. Please let us survive this.
She closed her eyes, fighting against the hesitation, letting curiosity take the lead. His barrier collapsed at her touch, revealing a scarred mind still healing from the damage it had suffered. Though she’d pieced it back together, the jagged edges remained, slowly smoothing and healing but still marred by the power Mirin had wielded against him.
Memories formed, ghostly after images that appeared in smoky shapes, building only to fade away before they could solidify. She needed to focus, to home in on the start. Where had he seen her? After the attack on the Scarlet Square, after they’d been separated. That was what she needed to see.
A cell. Dark. Musty. Damp. There is the sound of trickling water, but he can’t see where it is coming from. He can’t see much of anything. It is too dark, head still too hazy. Pain radiates throughout his body and mind. A single thought shatters his heart on impact. Kirheen. He worries he won’t see her again.
Fear. Guilt. Anguish. He’d tear the world apart to find her. He tries to escape, his hand pulling on the door keeping him from freedom, from finding the one thing that matters. A figure stands in the way. Tall, menacing. She throws him down the hall as if he were a doll, weightless and empty. The floor is rough and unyielding, his bones less so. Fresh bruises pepper his body, stone scrapping his skin raw as he is dragged down a corridor.
Stairs wind into darkness, and in the faint light he sees things he wishes he could unsee. A chair, arms stained a faded red, old blood from old wounds, torture that has yielded nothing but more death. This is her legacy. He keeps his arms pinned at his side. He does not want to touch the splintered wood. How many have sat there before him?
There is something recognizable in her. Is it her voice? Her stance? Memory stirs, pulling harder and harder at a truth he does not want to connect. A mention of Sanctuary and he is a child again, holding his wounded brother in his arms while he tries to scream, while he tries to say anything at all and can’t. Something has broken in his mind. No longer whole, he’ll live out the rest of his days in silence.
A mask is removed, and the face is familiar, terrifying. How did he not see it sooner? Mirin.
Accusations. She could have helped. She could have come back for them, could have told the world that Sanctuary existed so that it might have fallen sooner. Instead they are left to the whims of a madman while her heart darkens to the world. Murderer. The Seekers become the bloodied spear of the royal family and those hands are forever stained red.
She demands information. She is a Seeker and there is one truth she seeks above all others, an answer to a question that keeps her up at night. He won’t give her what she wants. He hates her, is terrified by her familiarity, by the face that mirrors the one he loves. Older. Scarred. Bitter.
His refusal meets a violent end and she digs, deeper and deeper, sifting through memories and discarding the rest. She does not care the hurt she inflicts, the damage. She seeks the truth and she will have it, no matter the cost. A mind is left shattered, thoughts scattered to the wind, lifted like feathers. And a curiosity goes unsatisfied.
Whole again. Saved. Mind patched back together, a mosaic of shattered glass. A weight is gone, but in its place - a muzzle. He is silenced by fear, by shame. The secret is a burden, burning a hole through his heart the longer he holds on to it. To speak is to upset, to hurt, to die. And he is afraid of the power she wields, of the damage she could inflict. He does not want to return to the dark, his mind fragmented. Silence is better than that, better than the thought of losing her once again.
Dangerous. Losing her is still a possibility looming over him, a shadow forever clinging to his back, a dagger whispering against his neck. Silence breeds contempt, a seed of doubt in her mind that he can feel, can see. It hurts her and it isn’t fair. Undeserving. Why must he be the one to cause her such pain? He focuses on the fear of a face, of a mask, and silence is what remains.
Memories evaporated, swirling smoke slipping through her open fingers. With nothing left to see, she slipped back out of his mind, only to find herself stuck in the blank space between them. Shock numbed her emotions, freezing her in place. Tomias opened his eyes and met her gaze, fear lingering just below the surface.
Part gasp, part sob slipped past Kirheen’s lips, her mind slamming back into her body. Cracks formed along her mask of calm, emotions seeking escape. And deep beneath it all, a rage was building, billowing up and out of her control. “Where is she?”
“What?”
“Where is she?” Kirheen demanded, her voice low and guttural, foreign to her own ears. Heat spread through her body, pushing away the cold, pushing away rational thoughts, and all feelings of mercy. Tomias rose and took a cautious step back, his hands trembling.
“Kir. Are you okay? Let’s talk about this.”
Rage bubbled, her power swelling. Tomias winced and took another step back. Her power wasn’t meant for him, but neither could she contain it. The beast was free and this time it had a target. She stepped past Tomias and strode towards the door, her bare feet picking up splinters with each angry step. She let her power roam, let it seek the source of her fury.
“Kirheen,” Tomias called from behind. He followed her down the hall but kept his distance. “Please stop.”
His voice was lost to her, and she let herself be pulled into a space where she no longer cared, her mind filled with a singular purpose. She could feel the Seeker down the hall, and she followed her energy to a solid, wooden door.
Pressing a hand to the door, she freed her powers. It cracked beneath her fingertips, the force sending it off its hinges to sail across the room, nearly hitting the Seeker. The ashen haired woman was already getting to her feet, hands and mind ready to defend. “What is the meaning of this?” she demanded, voice muffled by her mask, the mask she wore to hide her true face.
Kirheen raised a hand, pain radiating across her chest. “Your mask. Remove it.”
The Seeker laughed in disbelief, her head tilting towards Tomias. “Is this your doing, fool?” Kirheen could feel the threat behind the words, another piece of wood added to the flames of her rage.
“Don’t speak to him. Remove it.”
“No,” Mirin said, her piercing gaze flashing back to Kirheen. “I won’t.”
“Then allow me to remove it for you,” Kirheen said coldly. The pain across her chest intensified as she raised her hand, black corruption uncoiling from her palm. It shot across the room, wrapping around Mirin and forcing her to her knees. It crawled up her torso, constricting her throat, tiny tendrils gliding beneath her mask. The mask shattered like glass, revealing the secret beneath.
The startled face staring back at her was eerily familiar, weathered by time and circumstances, but she could see the similarity all the same. Her mother, a person who was never supposed to have a meaning, a person that had not existed in her days in Sanctuary. Communally raise
d, she’d never had the thought, had never thought to question what it might be like, to wonder and what could have been. And now, she was staring her in the face, storm cloud eyes locked onto hers.
“What am I supposed to feel?” Kirheen whispered, her lips trembling. Her hands shook uncontrollably, the fire burning in her chest getting hotter and hotter. Her emotions were a bubbling pot ready to spill over, a muddled soup of grief and rage. “All that time. You left me there, left us all to his whims. And for what? To become this. To murder your own people. You’re a monster.”
“Yes. I am,” Mirin agreed, her tone devoid of remorse. “And nothing, not even your anger, is going to change that. I am what the world made me, and that isn’t always a beautiful thing. What do you want from me?”
Kirheen wavered. What did she want? What did they know of each other? The concept of mothers and daughters was something so foreign, so unknowable, and yet she felt so much, a grief outlined in red, a wish for something that had never been and could never be. It was a debt that could never be repaid. Sanctuary had seen to that. It had warped normality into something twisted, and Mirin was the result. “I-I don’t know. I don’t know.”
Kirheen collapsed, her knees buckling, and she hid her face in her hands. Alarmed voices carried down the hall, and Kirheen felt power flare just as Samira’s voice rose over the grief ringing so loudly in her head. “What is going on here?” she yelled, words laced with anger.
“I can’t…move. Just help her,” Tomias pleaded.
Samira stepped into the room, her power ready to be unleashed. Dark eyes looked over the corruption, at Mirin bound by it in the center of the room. She looked to Kirheen, then back to Mirin, and back to Kirheen one more, realization dawning in her gaze. “Well, shit. Kirheen, get a hold of yourself before you destroy everyone on this ship. Mirin, are you hurt?”
The Seeker scoffed. “Not even a little.” Her head lolled forward, drooping towards her chest. “I do feel a bit odd. Do you hear it? Such a beautiful…song. It’s peaceful.”
“What in the name of the Allseer?” Samira said, her expression puzzled. It was quickly replaced by anger, and her hand darted out, wrapping tightly around Kirheen’s arm and squeezing painfully. With a painful yank, Kirheen was pulled to her feet. “Get to fixing this, now! I can’t believe you’d let yourself slip like this.”
Kirheen wiped away her tears, along with her rage. As it subsided, it was replaced by a weary grief, a throbbing hurt that refused to go away. “I’m sorry,” she sighed. “I didn’t mean to do this. I didn’t mean…”
Samira shook her head, her lips pursed. Her eyes flicked to Mirin. “Seeing the similarity here, I think I can understand at least a little of what you might be feeling, but you might have hurt others with this outburst, people that didn’t deserve your anger. No going back and fixing it now though. What’s done is done. Draw it back in. I will help you.”
A fresh wave of guilt settled over her skin, and Kirheen looked to Mirin, eyes tracing the corruption clinging to her skin, her clothes. By some miracle, it hadn’t hurt her, at least not that she could see. Still, the potential had been there. Her anger had erased all barriers, had let the corruption flow freely, and she seemed to have far more control over it than she had any desire to have.
Knowing it was within her control, she found it easy to draw back inside, requiring little assistance from Samira. Freed from the muck, Mirin staggered to her feet, shaking off her limbs in disgust. “I supposed I deserved that,” she growled, her words slightly slurred. She swayed on her feet, and when she pointed out into the corridor, her hand drifted from side to side as if she were drunk. “I don’t think he did, though.”
Kirheen turned slowly, shards of icy fear digging deep into her heart. Tomias was pinned to the wall, corruption dancing across his skin. His eyes were open, but they saw nothing, his blank stare focused on the ground beneath his feet. To have hurt Mirin was one thing – the woman had a lot to answer for – but hurting Tomias was something else, something unforgivable. He’d lied out of necessity, out of fear. He hadn’t deserved to be caught in the crossfire.
She crept closer, guilt a heavy anchor wrapped tightly around her ankles. Standing inches from Tomias, she placed her hand flat against his chest, and willed the corruption to flow back into her skin. Freed from his tethers, he collapsed forward into her arms, gasping as he collided with her. “Tomias, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” she wept, clinging to him tightly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry.”
“Hey, hey. I’m okay,” he struggled to say, his words slurred just as Mirin’s had been. “I’m fine.”
Kirheen pulled back and looked over his face, his body. He seemed unharmed and aware of his surroundings, though slightly disoriented, as if he’d just woken him from a midday nap. “Are you sure you’re okay? It didn’t hurt you? What about your mind?”
He shook his head. “I felt it slip through. It broke into my mind with ease, but once it was there, I just felt at peace, like I was floating, free from everything. It was strange, but I’m okay. I’m not hurt.”
Samira hovered over them, fingers toying with her bottom lip as she lost herself in some inner thought. “Garild was so sure this was dangerous. Between Sanctuary and the stone faces, it almost seemed like this had plagued the world before, that things had been brought to the brink because of it. But this, this is far from what we thought we knew, which begs the question, what exactly does it do? What is it for? I have a thought on the matter, but I’m not liking it.”
A bloody square tipped the balance too far. The stars awakened. The stars noticed.
Kirheen winced, a familiar and chilling choir of voices echoing through her skull. She shook her head and strengthened her inner walls, knowing full well the futility of the act. “What’s on your mind?”
“I’m almost afraid to say it out loud,” Samira admitted, looking morose as she continued speaking. “We all have powers here, and so far, it hasn’t done anything to us. But what if it came into contact with someone else, someone without powers? I think we could possibly test it – if we can find a willing volunteer. You know, a sacrifice for the benefit of mankind, that sort of thing.”
“You want someone to willingly touch it?” Tomias asked in disbelief, his jaw dropping.
Samira looked ashamed for even uttering the thought. “It sounds morbid, I know. But the more we know, the better prepared we are to deal with this particular threat. Kirheen and I may have some form of control over it, but Elfrind wields it like a blade. If we’re to stop it, we need to know what it does. Speculating is getting us nowhere.”
Mirin snorted. “You want some poor lad to stick his hand in the corruption and see if it comes out again? This sounds brilliant. Can’t imagine anything will go wrong.”
“A lot more is going to go wrong if you keep talking,” Samira retorted. “Now if you’ll excuse us, I believe a little space between you and Kirheen is warranted.”
Kirheen couldn’t bring herself to look at Mirin, couldn’t handle the emotions it brought bubbling to the surface. She helped Tomias back to his feet and followed Samira down the hall, leaving the Seeker standing amidst the destruction left in Kirheen’s wake. Before they reached the stairs, Kirheen slowed. “Samira, can you give us a moment?”
She turned with an annoyed huff, her eyes narrowed. “As long as you promise not to race back down the hall and murder anyone.”
Kirheen gave her a weary smile. “I’ll behave, I promise.”
“Let’s hope. I’ve got a ship full of people thinking you’re down here ripping the place apart. Tomias, I leave this in your hands,” she grumbled and trudged up the stairs.
Alone, Kirheen grabbed Tomias’ hand, leading him back to where the whole mess had started. “Are you absolutely sure you’re okay? You aren’t hurt?”
“I feel fine,” he reassured her. His expression shifted, his face creased with worry. “I shouldn’t have done that. I knew what it might do to you and I-”
“- Hush. I didn’t exactly give you much of a choice and, for what it’s worth, I understand. I know why you did it. I just… of all the people it had to be her. I didn’t think I’d feel so much over something I didn’t think mattered.”
“It does matter though. It’s part of our lives we were kept from, that we never got to experience, that we never had a chance to care about. Knowing now it existed, what it means, that would bring up a lot of emotions in anyone, Kir. Don’t fault yourself for that.”
“I don’t, not for feeling. I fault myself for letting it endanger those I care about. I could have hurt you,” she said, her throat constricting with the words. “We don’t know what it can do, and I let it out without a second thought.”
Fingers slid into her hair, palms cupping her cheeks. “It’s done. It’s over. Nobody is hurt, though I’d be lying if I said I’m fine with Mirin being unharmed.” His eyes locked to hers. “Kir, I’m sorry for keeping this from you. If you’d had more time, if I had said something before, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. I hope you… I hope you will forgive me in time.”
“Tomias, it’s already forgiven,” she said, taking a step closer. She closed the distance between them, her lips meeting his. His hands shifted behind her neck, pulling her deeper into the kiss.
He pulled away, fingertips brushing against her cheeks. “Gods, I thought I was going to lose you.” His lips quirked, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “It’s all going to be okay. You know that, right? No matter what happens, I’m going to be here.”
Kirheen melted into his embrace, resting her head against his chest. She wanted to believe him, to feel the warmth of his words radiate all the way through to her soul, but all she could feel was a roiling sense of unease. Thoughts were overwhelming, spilling through a breach in defenses she could no longer seal. Knowing about Mirin, knowing what that relationship might have meant, scraped at a wound inside she hadn’t known existed. She’d have to come to terms with what might have been, with what was, and what would never be, or that knowledge would haunt her forever. Closing her eyes, she whispered, “I know.”
The Allseer Trilogy Page 80