Identity Revealed: The Tue-Rah Chronicles

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Identity Revealed: The Tue-Rah Chronicles Page 37

by Butler, J. M.


  Amelia relaxed against the pillows. "What's that?"

  "A real dragon will eat you, armor, clothes, and all. But a Vawtrian will just bite your head off or burn you alive. They never eat people."

  "So dragons do talk?"

  WroOth shrugged. "It all depends. I generally don't stick around to listen. Now be still and listen to the story. Wait until you hear my Smaug voice."

  Amelia no longer protested. As the medicine took effect, a dull sleepiness spread over her. At least as WroOth read to her, she had something else to think about other than the terrible choice before her. Even if her thoughts did drift back to it continuously.

  So WroOth read, skipping all sections that did not feature Smaug and adding additional details into the story, including a battle between a different dragon and a chimera that had apparently been roused from some hidden depths. Whenever Amelia started to close her eyes, he tapped or nudged her, but he didn't stop reading.

  AaQar came to check her after a while. His hand was cool on her throat and forehead. He then prepared more of the vile green concoction and made her drink it.

  As much as it grieved Amelia to admit, they acted like she was their sister, and neither chided her further. It would almost be easier if they were cruel to her. Then she could justify what she would have to do and have her feelings be in alignment. And with the physical pain no longer so strongly at the forefront of her mind, she couldn't stop thinking about the blood curse and its actual implications.

  WroOth paused in his reading. "You know, this would be far less humiliating if you stopped thinking of us as your enemies and started thinking of us as family."

  Amelia stared at her hands. She wasn't going to cry now. After everything else she had done, she wouldn't give in to that. But it would be easier to simply abandon what she believed and embrace…embrace what? Was it possible that she could pretend to accept her marriage to Naatos and use that to her advantage without making him stronger? Or was she just looking for a way out?

  The door opened again.

  Amelia looked up sharply. Naatos stood in the doorway. Mud, grime, sweat, and blood covered him from head to boot. Fear spiked through Amelia's body once more. He dropped his baldric on the wooden bench by the door "How is she?"

  "Very much alive," WroOth said.

  Amelia shifted back so that she could keep a better eye on Naatos. What comfort she had felt evaporated.

  "Good." Naatos peeled off his gloves and dropped them on the bench beside the baldric. He approached Amelia.

  Amelia remained motionless, watching him without meeting his gaze.

  Naatos lifted the edge of one of the bandages. "You've stopped bleeding."

  Amelia pulled back. "Don't touch me."

  Naatos pressed the back of his hand against her forehead. "The fever is not as bad as I expected."

  Grimacing, Amelia pushed him away. The cold covering of mud and grime on his clothing squelched on her hands. Traces of it dried on her forehead. "Do not touch me, Naatos."

  "Time certainly isn't improving your mood, viskaro," Naatos said wryly. He glanced at his brothers. "When I am finished cleaning up, I expect only one person in this room to remain. And in case there's some confusion, I mean you." He pointed at Amelia, then crossed the room to the bath chamber. The wooden door creaked and scraped across the stones before clicking shut.

  "See." WroOth gave her a meaningful look. "Flirting would have made that entire exchange much more pleasant for both of you."

  Amelia's thoughts spun. Now that she had seen Naatos again, she didn't feel comfortable pretending to go along with him and this "marriage." But she couldn't see any other way, and he would likely be finished and ready to see her very soon. Oh Elonumato, help me, she thought. There might be only one way that she could turn this to her advantage.

  40

  Amelia’s Offer

  WroOth and AaQar left shortly after Naatos entered the bath chamber. Nothing Amelia could say would stop them from going, so she did not make much effort. The weight of her decision crushed her. She knotted her hands together as best she could. The one good thing was that the medication was so strong at this point she didn't even feel the broken bones or deep cuts. The bad part was that she kept grinding the bones against one another. The drugs were strong enough they felt like broken pieces of pottery inside a meat sack, surreal in the absence of pain and disturbing since the pressure and shifting was likely breaking them further. Healing would be more difficult.

  Not that it mattered.

  She had to resolve this.

  The wisest course would be to reevaluate her position entirely. To consider whether Elonumato was the loving and protective deity she had grown up believing. To even consider whether the prophecy as it applied to her could even be true or perhaps was nothing more than an attempt to control the former Paras.

  But she couldn't. Not for more than a few seconds.

  Amelia tried to swallow the nervous panic growing within her. These thoughts challenged something far deeper within her than a misunderstood calling. It went to the very core of who she was.

  She picked at the bandages on her hand. Accepting her so-called marriage to Naatos would not help her offset the blood curse, but if what Naatos said was true, she would be healed from these devastating wounds, and it might perhaps gain her other advantages.

  Amelia clenched her eyes shut. The thought was exceptionally unappealing. If what they said proved true though, her elmis would betray her again, and she would fall in love. As it was, she didn't want to kill WroOth. She didn't even feel much rage at AaQar.

  Tears slipped down her cheeks. She dashed them away at once.

  Stop crying, she thought, gritting her teeth. Naatos would be out any minute. The last thing she wanted was for him to see her even more vulnerable.

  Amelia took in a sharp breath, counted to ten, then slowly released it. Wiping away the tears, she repeated the exercise.

  There had to be a way to reconcile these two difficult situations. If only she could think of…

  The hairs on the back of her neck prickled. Opening her eyes, Amelia caught her breath. Naatos stood in the doorway, watching her. He had changed into fresh garments, and his hair hung loose and wet but combed about his shoulders.

  Amelia swallowed. Her heart surged faster, and adrenaline poured into her. Why did he have to look so terrifying? Every possible thought of cooperating fled whenever she saw him, and now was no exception.

  Naatos did not move. He did not even blink. Whatever it was he was contemplating, his face gave no indication.

  "Naatos," she said, her mouth dry. The words died in her mind. She struggled to hold eye contact, her gaze flickering from his eyes to his forehead to the stone walls behind him. "What are you doing?"

  Naatos shook his head, blinking as if waking from a trance. A faint look of befuddlement creased his brow. For a moment, he opened his mouth as if to speak. But then, he closed it and crossed the room in four swift strides.

  Amelia pressed herself back to get away from him, but he had already reached her and seized her arm. In a single smooth motion, he lifted her from the bed, sliding his arm around her waist, placing his other hand along the bandaged cuts on her face.

  Amelia cried out, thrusting her arms against his chest. The bones in her hands ground with the pressure as her ribs cracked. Even with the medication, the pain spiked, and the words twisted out of Amelia's mouth in agony. But before the breath was even halfway spent, the agony vanished.

  Golden light radiated from both Naatos's hands, and heat passed into her body. An intense heat that did not burn, carrying the pain away with it. Even the adrenaline that had been surging up and pounding in her, demanding that she run, evaporated. The tendons in her leg reattached, the bones in her foot knit back together and reformed into their proper shape. Her ribs popped back out, and the joints and bones of her fingers and hands were healed. All the pain vanished.

  Amelia's eyes widened with surprise. As he held her,
she was almost eye to eye with him, her body pressed entirely against his, her feet off the ground. "What did you do?"

  Naatos looked back at her, his expression almost as surprised. His hand slid into her hair. The look in his eyes was changing now. Softening. Intensifying.

  A knock sounded abruptly at the door.

  Bolting back, Naatos flung Amelia onto the bed. "Enter."

  Amelia tried to stifle a sharp cry as she struck the mattress and the door slid open. The pillows flew into the air and onto the floor.

  AaQar peered in, a large brown paper package under his arm. "Naatos," he sighed.

  Naatos lifted his chin, an aura of guilt hanging about him, flushing his cheeks. "AaQar."

  Amelia felt her own cheeks burning. She remained motionless against the headboard. What had AaQar interrupted?

  AaQar frowned. "Did the locking conclude? Is that it?"

  Naatos cleared his throat. "What business is it of yours?" He then strode out of the room without even looking at Amelia.

  "Naatos." AaQar turned. "What are you doing? There's nothing to be ashamed of. She's your wife."

  "Just give her the package and tell her," Naatos called back. "I have matters I must tend to."

  "You're being a sikalt, Naatos."

  "Just tell her!" Naatos shouted back.

  AaQar rolled his eyes. Returning his focus to Amelia, he placed the package on the table. "He won't always be like this. And your viskare's lack of maturity aside, he wishes for you to change into one of these dresses and prepare for the execution of your attackers."

  "Today?" Amelia stood slowly. Her foot did not hurt, even a little. There wasn't even a tightness in her chest or through her legs.

  "Yes." AaQar motioned toward the bandages. "You can remove the ones we just applied. The healing is complete. Leave the bandages over the spider bites and stings. Vawtrian healing is no match for that sort of venom or scars, and those poultices need to remain in place."

  Amelia peeled back the bandages on her hand. As AaQar had said, her hand was entirely healed. She wriggled her fingers, shocked. "Can you tell me what happened?"

  "The locking is completed. Naatos healed you. And right now, he's not sure what to do about what he is feeling for you, I suspect."

  "I needed to talk to him." Amelia held out her foot and removed the bandages from it. There wasn't even a hint of a scar from the dagger blade.

  "Change your clothes first. You shouldn't have been left in that tunic this long." AaQar turned to leave but paused, his hand on the door jamb. For a moment, it looked as if he was about to say something, but then he shook his head and walked away.

  Amelia quickly closed the door. Though she was confused, hope had returned. The fact that Naatos had healed her without her asking him to was incredible. Perhaps there was a miracle happening. And perhaps she was on the right course. The ludicrous plan of cooperating with Naatos temporarily might actually work. And if Naatos did not want to see her right now, then she could use it to her advantage.

  The brown package on the table contained four dresses, each one a different size and color of approximately the same design. Long angel-sleeved gowns with a loose waist that could be belted with one of the beaded sashes. The material was thin, but when she held it up to the light, she couldn't see through it. The pale-lavender dress fit her best despite being so long that the hem dragged on the floor.

  Amelia pulled her hair free from the O band and smoothed it out with a comb she found on the table next to the washbasin. Once again, there were no boots or shoes that she could use, and Naatos's, not surprisingly, were too large.

  Taking another calming breath, Amelia said a prayer, opened the door, and peeked into the hall.

  The wind blew through the narrow windows, cool for this late afternoon. It didn't smell of heather and bread as it should. Instead it was bloody, faintly metallic. Frowning, she started toward the window, but WroOth called to her from the other end of the hall.

  "Well, congratulations," he said.

  Amelia turned, startled. "Congratulations?"

  WroOth stopped in front of her, and his smile reached his eyes. "The locking is complete. You're looking for Naatos. This is progress."

  He was so happy it was almost contagious. Amelia felt the warmth returning to her cheeks. "How do you know I'm looking for Naatos and not trying to escape?"

  "You aren't sneaking around. Besides, you changed clothes. And you look lovely."

  "Were you waiting for me?" Amelia asked. How was it he always managed to be almost exactly where she was?

  "This time, yes." He clasped his hands behind his back and started down the hall. "I guessed you'd want to see him after he stormed out like that. Or at least I hoped so. You will be good for Naatos. He may even be good for you."

  "Regardless of what happens between Naatos and me, thank you for saving me back there. I'm not sure I would have gotten out if it hadn't been for you."

  The smile dimmed in WroOth's eyes, and his pace slowed. "You don't need to thank me. The one thing you can count on is that we will be there for you, Amelia. You are part of this family now, no matter what you do."

  "I'm sure there are conditions." Amelia glanced at him sidelong. Part of her hated it when they talked about family if only because they were so sincere. But she also struggled to imagine how her continuing to follow her supposed "destiny" would ultimately be acceptable. There had to be terms with this apparent acceptance.

  "Family has no conditions," WroOth said. "I did not like Rasha much at the start. I thought she was pretentious and arrogant. Not to mention she practically carried AaQar off. But when the Four Faces had her by the ankle and were dragging her off toward their nest, I was there at the front with AaQar and Naatos. And neither AaQar nor Naatos much cared for Mara when we were first wed. She was manipulative, they said, and an unwed mother. They were convinced she was using me. And we certainly had our fights, but she was the love of my life, and at one point when she ran away over a foolish misunderstanding, Naatos sought her out and convinced her to return. We all survived those ordeals." His face brightened. But would you like to know something remarkable? We all like you. Shocking as that may be."

  "I suppose that's a compliment." Amelia tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "But this whole situation is incredibly strange."

  "No one would say otherwise."

  "And what about Shon and Matthu?" Amelia glanced at WroOth. "Did they make it through all right?"

  WroOth smiled, stopping in front of a door. "Of course they did, dear heart. They're probably on the other side already. Now…all joking aside, welcome to the family." He kissed the top of her head. "Naatos is in there. Remember this will all work out, but don't forget he is Naatos. He will be rather intense."

  "And where are you going?" Amelia asked.

  WroOth lifted his hands. "Who can say? But if you need help, just call. AaQar or I will be nearby."

  Amelia shook her head as he disappeared around the corner. Why couldn't Naatos be more like his brother? Either one! This would all be so much easier.

  She turned to face the wooden door, preparing herself as best she could. Her heart's pace quickened. Amelia flexed her fingers and then made a quick rap on the door.

  No response.

  Amelia knocked again, harder this time.

  "The door is not locked." Naatos sounded neither pleased nor angry, only calm.

  Amelia put her hand to the heavy iron doorknob and twisted it. The door opened into long, low-lit room that had a single window. But that window did not look out into the courtyard or over the deciduous forest. It looked out into an expanse of space within Polfradon itself. Naatos stood by that window, his back to the door.

  "Naatos," Amelia said hesitantly. "I need to talk to you. You left before I could say anything."

  "If there is something you need to say, then say it."

  "Well, first, thank you for healing me." Amelia took a deep breath. She wasn't certain what this room was for. Ther
e were three torches on the wall, one table, and a thick padded bench. "I do appreciate that. And second…I want to talk about us."

  "Us." Naatos lifted his head, but he did not turn around. Amelia caught the hint of a smile in his voice. "Us…"

  "Yes." Amelia let the door slip shut, but she did not move closer. "I don't agree with the idea of an arranged marriage setup where one person isn't even told that such a relationship exists. But regardless of what I think, I cannot change what has been done. And I am willing to accept my position as your wife, be a part of your family, and have your children, but only if you are willing to accept my requirements."

  "I will not bargain for what is already mine," Naatos said.

  Amelia's heart hammered. It was a dangerous bluff, but there was a faint ray of hope. "Perhaps legally I am yours. But not truly." She struggled to force the next words out. "I'm not so stupid to think that I have much of a chance stopping you from raping me if you decided to go that route. But I don't think that's what you want. I think that even though we disagree on a lot of important things, you actually do want a good marriage. You want a good relationship. And you healed me despite saying you were going to let me suffer."

  "So you repay my kindness with demands. A strange way to give thanks." Naatos still did not turn to face her.

  Amelia bit the inside of her lip. Even with her elmis turned out toward him, she couldn't quite tell what he was feeling. There was an odd mixture of desire and apprehension radiating from him. "I am thankful that you healed me as I said before, but I do not forget what you are."

  "And what am I?"

  "You are Naatos, Para, Almonyek Vawtrian. A warlord, a conqueror, a despot. Just as I did not choose my marriage to you, I did not choose the destiny that was placed on me. But somehow I have to reconcile the two. The prophecy only says, at least as best I know, that I must stop you and your brothers. That is my task. It does not say that I must kill you." Amelia folded her arms, tucking her hands beneath her elbows. She continued to watch him, uncertain how he would respond. "Given the blood curse that is on me, it makes sense that maybe, just maybe I can fulfill it by not killing you because right now…I can't think of a way that would let me kill all three of you before I die."

 

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