Identity Revealed: The Tue-Rah Chronicles

by Butler, J. M.

  So she was still a prisoner, apparently.

  "All right," Amelia said softly. "Think."

  As she pieced together what had happened, she crossed to the bench. A black tunic was folded on it with a green and black sash on top. Aside from the shift she wore, the tunic looked to be the only other garment available. Not that this surprised her. AaQar had said she was the only woman in Polfradon. Why would they have had women's clothing on hand?

  She picked up the tunic and held it against her body. It was long enough to make a decent dress. One that exposed more of her legs than she liked, but there wasn't anything that could be done for that. In the lower-left corner of the sleeve, she saw an embroidered emblem.

  She frowned, recognizing it. It was identical to the one on the necklace. Strange. There was a scent in the fabric as well. A faint combination of wood smoke, sweat, and something she couldn't recognize. If she had to guess, this was Naatos's.

  Amelia debated remaining in the shift. When she tested the fabric, it tore quite easily. "Wonderful," she muttered. "Can't have that." The fabric of the black tunic was double-woven, light, and comfortable.

  The tunic came down to a little above her knees, and the sleeves were ridiculously long. Ripping up the shift allowed her to bind up the sleeves. There wasn't anything for shoes. Obviously they didn't plan on her going outside. They probably didn't plan on her leaving this room, but what did their intentions matter?

  Amelia searched the room for anything to help her escape. There was nothing until she crawled under the bed. The wire spring frame was woven with rope. The wires, relatively thin, untwisted with effort. Her resolve growing, Amelia wrapped what was left of the shift around her hand, then twisted several of the wires from the frame.

  Hopping up, she went to the door and fashioned a crude lock pick and lever. It had been awhile since she'd tried to pick a lock, but she'd practiced enough at home on multiple doors with a variety of tools to pick this rudimentary lock with ease. A satisfied feeling passed through her. At last! Something she had prepared for. It took only seconds to slide the wires in and trigger the satisfying click of a shifted lock.

  Amelia pressed the door open and peeked out. One guard stood at the intersection of the hall, his back to her. Amelia slipped out and ran toward him. As he turned, she kicked him in his leather-armored solar plexus and punched him in his exposed throat. He collapsed on the ground with a groan. Before he could get up, Amelia struck him again, knocking him unconscious.

  Yes! This was how it was supposed to go.

  Amelia dragged the Talbokian back to her room, tied him up with the bed sheets, gagged him, and searched him. He didn't have keys, but he wasn't entirely useless. She removed his dagger and boots. Slipping the boots on her feet, she tried to make them fit, but they clunked about, too large for her. They were better than nothing, so she tucked them under her arm and placed the Neyeb necklace inside. Once she got outside, she would put the boots on. But in here, stealth was more important.

  She closed the door behind her. Her next goal was to find Shon and Matthu. Then they would escape, get to a safer location, and figure out what was going to happen next.

  Despite the horrors of the previous night, Amelia did not struggle to move. All felt clear and distinct as if she had completed a vegetable juice cleanse but without any form of weakness. She took down three more Talbokians in different locations, one at a time, tied them up, and hid them. They went down easily. Each subsequent success gave her more confidence. Yes! Yes! This was how she had imagined it going.

  With each mercenary she took down, Amelia searched for keys and weapons. Most wore swords that were far too large for her to carry with ease. It did not take her long to find another dagger, a belt that fit, a pouch, and a number of small items that might be useful in her escape.

  Her nerve and strength increasing, Amelia realized that oddly she knew exactly where Shon was. The feeling was distinct. And when she closed her eyes, it became stronger, tugging at her consciousness.

  With nothing else to guide her, Amelia followed it, keeping in the shadows, avoiding points with more than a single guard standing watch, and making her way farther and farther into Polfradon.

  None of this proved difficult, but as she ran along, Amelia heard signs of many more people. Singing rang up the floor below, but the voices sounded as if there were far more than before. Somehow she seemed to be avoiding them. She prayed her luck would hold.

  At last she found a staircase that cut down into the center of Polfradon. No one stood guard.

  Amelia hesitated. Was this a trap? Torch light flickered below. Her heart raced faster.

  Shon was down there. She knew it.

  All right, Amelia thought. Trap or no trap, there's only one way to get them out.

  Amelia slipped down the staircase and into the dark sub-chamber. The sensation at the edge of her mind grew, calling her. Her bare feet barely made any sound on the cold stone.

  At last the chamber opened up, and at the base was a red stone floor and then a single cell and inside…

  Amelia's heart leaped with delight when she saw Shon. He paced within the cell, his brow knit with frustration and concern. "Shon!" Amelia cried. His name tore out of her. She ran down the remaining stairs and dropped the boots to the ground.

  Shon looked up, surprise filling his face.

  Amelia embraced Shon through the bars. Her heart swelled. Whatever caution she might have felt had vanished. All that mattered was being with Shon. She grabbed his jaw and covered his face with kisses.

  Shon didn't pull back, but his eyes widened and he stiffened. Then his arms slipped through the bars, and he held her close.

  What was she thinking? Amelia couldn't say, and it didn't matter. The warmth of his body, even with the bars cruelly separating them, urged her close. The desire and passion overwhelmed everything else. All that mattered was the sweet and salty taste of his kisses. The prickling sensation of his beard against her cheek and the intoxicating heat of his lips over hers. Her elmis pulsed. When she pressed them against his neck, the sensations within her compounded. Then, with a jolting shock, Amelia realized she felt him.

  Somehow she had made a connection with him that was more than physical. She loved him, and he loved her. His emotions swept along hers, the two merging like fragrances in the wind. Their thoughts twined, sweetly whispering about a future more beautiful than either had ever expected.

  Shon's gasp for breath brought her back to the moment.

  Amelia pulled away at once. "I'm so sorry." She braced herself against the wall, her other hand to her chest. "I've never…" The heat remained in her, burning throughout her.

  Shon nodded. He tugged his collar, his cheeks flushed. "I'm glad to see you're all right."

  "Yes…" Amelia resisted looking at him. She placed her hands on the cold bars, gripping them tighter. What had changed? It was so intense. All her elmis were uncovered now. Was that the difference? Was the curse setting in? Did it make her a maneater? No. She frowned. None of this made sense.

  Silence filled the room, interrupted only by their heavy breathing. The one good thing was that no one was down here, and Matthu slept on the low bench. Amelia at last rubbed her forehead, half-embarrassed, half-exhilarated. "So…what happened to you? I'm glad you're all right."

  "Don't know," Shon said. "But we were stupid." He leaned against the bars, staring at the ground. Frustration returned to his face. "It was like something came over us, and we might as well have walked in there and said, 'hey, Amelia is Inale, why don't you get her.'"

  "It saved my life." Amelia dared to look at him again. It was as if she was seeing him for the first time. How could men like him exist? From the depth of his eyes to the cut of his muscles to the nobility of his spirit.

  Stop it! she thought, closing her eyes. What's wrong with me?

  "Are you all right?" Shon asked.

  Amelia nodded, her eyes shut tight. "I've got to get you out of here."

  "There
's been complications," Shon said. "For some reason, we've been set apart. There are no guards near here. Even more importantly, Naatos had us followed either when we broke everyone out of the palace or at Valne's Peak or both. We saw the mercenaries returning, and they had Ayamin from at least three of the waypoints." He paused, emotion knotting his voice. "I'm afraid they have taken all of Libysha."

  "Not for long." Amelia pushed her hair back. Kneeling, she thrust the wires into the lock. This jail cell had a different locking mechanism than the one in her room. The wires grated in the lock. No matter how she finagled them, she couldn't get enough leverage for the last pin.

  "They said they threw you in with the spiders." Shon knelt as well, seeking to catch her eye. "Are you all right?"

  "Yeah." The memories were all back now. Milky eyes, furred fangs, chittering mandibles, biting pain. Amelia tried to put them back. Nothing destroyed the heat of passion quite so much as the memory of those spiders. She shuddered, her stomach twisting. "I'm all right now."

  "We were trying to get the keys to free you," Shon said, his tone apologetic.

  "I'm not mad at you," Amelia said. She glanced up at him. "I know you would have rescued me if you could."

  "I'm glad, but that's not my point. There's something else going on here." Shon placed his hand over hers. "I don't know what it is, but it is incredibly powerful. Matthu and I had our plan worked out. It was cunning, simple, perfect. And then…" He paused, searching for the words. "It was like something came over us and dragged us in there. Matthu hasn't woken up since Naatos hit him. Neither of us got in a single blow. I think there's someone else in Polfradon who can control minds. Someone who didn't want you to stay in that spider pit, who didn't think our plan was good enough."

  "Could it have been Elonumato?" Amelia asked. It didn't sound like much of a miracle.

  "No." Shon shook his head. "I'd think divine intervention would be a little more elegant. This was like being a puppet."

  Amelia doubted that the two were as dissimilar as he thought. She pulled the wires back. "This isn't going to work. I'll go find the keys or something stronger, and, while I'm gone, I'll see what I can find."

  "Amelia." Shon squeezed her hand. A responding pulse in her elmis increased her desire. "Be careful."

  "I will." Amelia struggled to pull away. Her heart begged her to stay. Her elmis ached. At this moment, she needed to be with Shon. To press her hands against him and be close. Her mind wasn't telling her anything else. It drew her back to Shon, to those kisses, bur Amelia forced her desires back and hurried away. "I have to go."

  It was so hard to thrust her feelings away. They bubbled up and expanded, clinging to her mind like a too strong perfume. Her head pulsed with these possibilities, and her heart throbbed with emotion. What she had experienced in the palace the first time she saw Shon was nothing compared to this. Her hand to her head, she struggled. Get ahold of yourself! This isn't the time, she thought.

  She took the stairs as fast as she could. The hall was quiet, empty. Good. Upon reaching the hall, she rounded the corner, her chest brim tight with feelings. What hell would it be like if she simply gave in? She'd be useless! There was no room for love or romance right now. Not if she wanted to be competent.

  Once she reached the hall, she rounded the corner.

  Footsteps.

  Amelia halted. They were coming her way. She dropped beside one of the tables, crouching close to the wall.

  WroOth strolled by, his gait as easy as if he was simply out for a walk. He held a worn brown book in his hand.

  Amelia gritted her teeth. How was he always finding her? Please keep going, she thought. She pressed back closer against the wall, keeping her breaths as quiet as possible.

  WroOth continued, passing the table and going into the next hall without a single glance down. Then his footsteps stopped.

  Amelia closed her eyes, clenching her fists tighter.

  Fabric rustled. Amelia peeked around the table leg.

  Sure enough, WroOth had returned, walking backwards around the corner. He looked at the ground, frowning, his head slightly tilted.

  Amelia bolted from the floor and sprinted down the hall. She turned a corner and kept going before she realized that WroOth was not following. He hadn't even yelled.

  Her hand over the dagger, Amelia slowed down, determined not to miss anything. Obviously he recognized her. And obviously he couldn't let her get away. So what was he doing?

  Amelia bit her lip, weighing her options. Her ears strained for some sound, but there was nothing other than her own breaths.

  Creeping forward, she peered around the corner. The table with the books was the only thing in the hall except for the doors. Where had he gone? She pulled back.

  A large grey moth fluttered past her face. Panicking, Amelia grabbed a bowl from the shelf and clapped it over the insect.

  "Now what did that moth ever do to you?" WroOth's voice came from behind her.

  WroOth stood on the other end of the hall, a smug smile on his face. "So, you're angry with me."

  Amelia backed away. "What makes you think that?"

  "Little things. Shooting me. Telling me I broke Inale's heart. What do you want to be called now? Amelia? Inale? Amele?"

  "I'm Amelia. Inale disappeared a long time ago," Amelia said.

  "Well then, Amelia." WroOth placed his hand on his chest. "I want you to know that I never intended for you to know that I was lying to you. If I had had my way, you wouldn't have known a thing about what actually happened for the rest of your days."

  "This isn't a particularly good apology," Amelia said.

  "I'm not apologizing. I'm explaining."

  "I don't want to hear it." Amelia stepped back again, glancing over her shoulder to make sure no one else was sneaking up on her. "It really doesn't matter. I'm not staying here, so don't stop me."

  "I'm not here to stop you. I'm here to change your life." He started toward her, his manner easy and relaxed. He motioned toward her bare neck. "Where is your necklace?"

  Amelia stopped. She'd left the one Naatos had put in her hand in the chamber outside the jail cell with the boots. Perfect. "Naatos has mine."

  "And you were given a similar one. Where is it?"

  "What difference does it make?"

  "Well, you'll probably want to find it again as it is rather important. Do you even know what it means?"

  "Well, he said it means no Vawtrian can hurt me if they knew I had it. But given that you two punched out my friends, your brother lied to me. Shocking as that may be."

  "Actually he didn't. No Vawtrian would hurt you if he saw that necklace. At least not if he had any sense about him. You see, dear heart, that's a Neyeb betrothal necklace, and as you are more than twenty-four, you are a married woman."

  Of all the things WroOth might have told her, Amelia could never have guessed this. She hesitated, confused. "Wh—"

  "Neyeb custom. See, they believed in arranging marriages for their children to suitable individuals as soon as possible in as many cases as possible. Better than leaving them to their hormonal and impulsive selves. The impact that an unconnected Neyeb may feel upon developing a first infatuation can be overwhelming in passion."

  Amelia touched her lips, recalling the kiss. "Does that happen fast?"

  "Yes." WroOth flipped the book he'd been holding open, set it on the nearby table, and stepped away. "It is always a cooperative effort between the parents and the Council of Elders. See for yourself. The Neyeb don't have weddings like the Awdawms, though there are some celebrations that might be rather similar. And nulaamed Neyeb have until their twenty-fourth birthday to end the marriage arrangement. The necklace Naatos gave you is your husband's betrothal necklace."

  "And why would he have that?" Amelia asked.

  "Why does he have anything?" WroOth smiled. "Because he found it useful and because he took it."

  "I don't believe I'm married."

  "You don't have to take my word for it." Wro
Oth motioned toward the book.

  His words provoked her curiosity. "Move farther back then."

  "Amelia, I'm wounded you have so little faith in me." He managed an expression that was at once innocent and sorrowful, his fingers pressed lightly to his chest. "I swore I wouldn't harm you, and I won't. Particularly not now. Remember, I could have killed you many times already, but I haven't because I like you. And now I know that you are Inale, I certainly won’t kill you."

  "Why are you telling me all this about being a Neyeb?" Amelia asked. "How do you benefit?"

  "I love a challenge, and this information makes matters much more entertaining. Read the book, and see for yourself."

  Amelia stepped forward. The book looked harmless. She kept an eye on WroOth and picked it up. The left page was a large pen sketching of a mother holding an infant, standing next to another mother with a little boy. The two fathers stood behind them. A dozen council members surrounded the family, eyes closed as if in meditation. The text confirmed what WroOth said.

  "That picture isn't so accurate in the actual manner in which these matters are conducted," WroOth said. "The real thing is much less imposing, but it is quite impressive. No marriage is valid within the Neyeb culture unless approved by the Council of Elders."

  Amelia's chest tightened. "I can't be married," she whispered. "I just…"

  "Yes. I know about you and that Awdawm. You were probably just on your way back from him, given that bit of stubble rash."

  Amelia's hand went to her chin, guilt flashing through her.

  "It is such bad timing that you two did fall for one another," WroOth said. "And what makes it all the worse is your husband is here, Amelia. Now it might pain him to admit it, but he needs you. In fact…" His voice grew more somber. "He might not make it without you. But if you ally with him, it would make matters far better."

  "If he is a friend of yours, then he is no friend of mine." Amelia turned the book over, flipping through the various entries. Was it possible that a Neyeb man had been responsible for what had happened to Shon and Matthu?