Identity Revealed: The Tue-Rah Chronicles
Page 47
That was when the tears came. They started slowly, leaking from her eyes and trailing down her cheeks. "Elonumato," the tapestry Amelia whispered, clasping her hands. "Please…take me now. I have to go back. My family needs me. They all need me."
Only silence answered her. Even the cicadas had fallen quiet. And she started crying harder.
Amelia remembered those feelings of guilt and grief so vividly. She wasn't sure how, but somehow she became convinced that Elonumato wasn't taking her because she was cursed in an unusable way. He might have even changed His mind. That that was the reason she had had to stay so long and why He had been so quiet. She had to get His attention…somehow. Prove her worthiness and dedication.
Amelia turned her gaze away, not wanting to watch herself weeping into her knees. Yet even though she was not watching, it played through her mind anyway. All of the begging and pleading and silence. And when that silence lasted more than her heart could bear, she had taken one of her daggers and…
Amelia clenched her eyes shut, blocking out the sound and image, willing it to black.
"What did you think you would accomplish?" Naatos asked.
"I thought…" The words died on Amelia's lips. She remembered the anger and fear bubbling inside her that night. Anger that had turned to hatred of herself. She'd told Uncle Joe she had been trying to get Elonumato's attention by proving how serious she was. But maybe there was more than that.
"You are fortunate your guardian was more competent than most Awdawms."
"I am." The weight within Amelia's chest increased. And if that had been the only time she had been so weak, maybe she could have forgiven herself. But her own stupidity and foolhardiness was now apparent. So many of the tapestries depicted the same thing over and over. All the times she'd said no to things that would have been harmless at the time. She had been so focused. Uncle Joe had tried to warn her. He'd tried to counsel her, but who could pull her back from the brink of her own ruin when she herself was convinced that that was where she was to go? Nothing made sense anymore. She was breaking. She knew it.
Her hands shook. "Everything I did. I spent my entire life preparing for this, and none of it was what I needed…" She lifted her gaze back up to see the long line of tapestries sliding around and by. It didn't even matter what Naatos had seen or would see. Her own regrets tormented her now. The things she'd refused to think about or speak about for so long. The things she'd done to herself to try to prepare. Now they bubbled up, a bitter cauldron of sorrow and nothingness. "There's so many things I should have done," she whispered, staring blankly into the darkness. Why was it only now that she could see this? It had seemed so easy to ignore the desires of her own heart and even the impulses of the moment. Yet now they danced before her, mocking.
Naatos's expression revealed nothing except contemplation. The tapestries resumed sliding by. He slid his hand along one of the tapestries as it passed. "The girl who said no."
It was true, but why did it hurt so much now? The pulsing in her heart throbbed stronger with each beat. "You know what?" Amelia said, tears slipping faster down her cheek. Her voice caught in her throat. "You want to go through my memories, go ahead. You don't listen to anything else I've said."
Turning, she hurried between another line of tapestries. It didn't matter where she went as long as it was away from him. Maybe distance would let her wake up.
But as she walked, she saw more and more of her memories. The fact that she was going to die didn't bother her half as much as thinking that she had wasted what time she’d had.
"Amelia." Somehow Naatos had gotten ahead of her. He stepped out from between the tapestries. "I'm not trying to humiliate you. But I want you to answer one question for me. You are a woman now. Not a girl. What happens if you say yes to me?"
Amelia pulled back, her eyes brimming over with tears. "I…" Her heart beat faster, but the pain increased. It was as if something pressed up from deep within, squeezing her heart in a painful vice. "I didn't waste—"
Naatos put his finger to her lips. His tone had changed, sounding kind. "You did what you could with what you knew, Amelia. And though you may not have made the most of what you might have had, it does not mean that your life must be that way for the rest of your days. Twenty, thirty, forty, fifty years is not so long in light of the centuries you could yet have. You don't have to die, viskaro. All these years you have served Elonumato, and your reward has been silence and pain. Say yes to me, and I will always answer you."
Amelia wiped the tears away. She shook her head, her chest so tight she could scarcely breathe. "What happened in the field was my fault, all right? My fault. I am the one who decided I was going to focus like that. I was the one who didn't do anything but study and train. That was me! Not Uncle Joe. Not Elonumato. Not anyone else."
"But you said no to all those things for Elonumato. Amelia, I am not your enemy. I am no silent god. I am not a god of any kind." Naatos took her hand in his. He caressed it, pressing his thumb against her elmis.
The pressure within Amelia's chest increased. She winced. "Naatos, what you're going to do…I can't ignore that."
"Yes. I will kill people. But when I kill it will be necessary. Come back to me, and I will explain it all to you. You are not a monster, viskaro. You never have been, and you never will be. You aren't even cruel." He had moved closer. Leaning in, he ran his hand along the side of her face, his touch surprisingly gentle as it lingered on her cheek.
Amelia closed her eyes. Her breaths twisted in and out of her chest tighter and tighter. She remembered the Ayamin, the headless bodies, the massacre. "You are cruel," she whispered.
"I can be. But not always. How I treat you from now on is what should matter most to you. Haven't you spent enough time in these failing endeavors?" Naatos traced his finger along the contours of her face. "Where are you, Amelia? Tell me where you are. I will come for you, and we will work all of this out. Say yes to me."
Amelia let her head drop again. Weariness descended upon her. She didn't want to fight anymore. This new awareness and the questions it brought was almost more than she could bear. Saying yes to Naatos would mean that her fight would end. Perhaps she wasn't a fighter. Maybe she was just cursed. She was outmatched for certain.
Suddenly Naatos pulled her close. Before she could catch a breath, he kissed her. His lips covered hers as he slid his hands along the back of her neck and waist. Startled, Amelia pulled back, but it was not so overwhelming this time. Though he kept her tight against him, he kissed her cheeks and her neck. "Say yes."
A moan escaped Amelia's lips. She let her eyes slip shut. Why did this have to be so complicated? It wasn't as if she even had a clue how to stop him. Not anymore. The Salvation of the Third Nalenth would heal her once, not help her destroy them. And this curse that hung over her was both worse and different from what she had thought.
Naatos returned to her lips, gentler this time. He unfastened her hair and smoothed it down. A solid black bench appeared behind them, and Naatos drew her beside him. Amelia let him, no longer struggling but not responding either. He seemed to take this as encouragement.
She could feel the tension radiating through his body. Desire, even affection, overwhelmed his feelings. Those streaks of love that she had felt before, though wild and terrifying, came into focus once more. But unlike the last time, the sensation wrapped completely around her consciousness, drawing her in.
If she could just let go…
In that moment, Amelia wanted to let go of everything. Whether it was her own thoughts or Naatos's drawing her along, she didn't care. She just wanted the sight of her own memories and failures to end. She turned her face down, wishing that there was a stage deeper than sleep or a way to wake.
Naatos stretched out on the bench and pulled her down beside him. Her head settled in the crook of his arm. "Look at me, viskaro," Naatos said.
She opened her eyes. It was startlingly intimate and completely wrong. Except it didn't feel wrong. Not esp
ecially. It had been impossible to imagine developing feelings for him just half a day before, horrifying even to contemplate. And now…
Naatos smoothed the hair back from her face. "Where are you, Amelia?"
The tendrils of desire hooked around the words in her mind. It would be so easy to tell him. So easy to end this all and find another path. A better one. One where things made sense. Perhaps a future with Naatos would—
"Ahhh!" Amelia bolted up, a sharp pain stabbing through her chest. Another and another followed in rapid succession. She drove her hand against her heart, struggling to catch a breath.
Naatos sat up. "Let me see."
It was like a knife stabbing out and a great net constricting her heart all at once. Amelia gasped, struggling to breathe.
Thrusting her hands back, Naatos tugged the bodice of her dress down. Something pushed against her breastbone, flushing the skin-deep red as blood pooled upward. Her heart beat again, compressing her chest as the pain sharpened.
Naatos sank back, his hands falling away. "Shon lives, doesn't he?"
Amelia looked up, shocked. "Of course he lives," she said faintly. "Why wouldn't he?" As she said this, a force struck her face with great violence and knocked her from the bench.
52
A Matter of Time
The connection to Amelia ended abruptly. The room spun for Naatos as he lay there on the bench. It wasn't so bad since he had tapped into her connection rather than her contacting him, but it was still disorienting. He'd had enough foresight at least to lay down before reaching for her. Otherwise he would have faceplanted on the stone floor. He drew in a deep breath, held it for eight seconds, then released, the stone pendant still clutched in his hand.
The humming had ceased, and the stone now rested silent within his grasp. It was easier to breathe now. And more importantly, he knew that he could indeed have it all.
Slowly, Naatos sat up on the low-legged bench. He draped his arm over the side.
All was still now, heavy with the heat of the late afternoon sun. Naatos breathed in and out, not moving quickly. He hadn't even hoped for this much success.
Several minutes passed, leaving him to contemplate what had happened. He could still feel the warmth of her body and the softness of her lips. Closing his eyes, he savored the memory. There would be many other occasions to enjoy her, but this one was special. He'd tasted her defeat.
Even with Shon's interference, it was only a matter of time before Amelia realized she was wholly his. That victory would be almost as sweet as his conquest of the Tue-Rahs and their restoration.
Naatos pressed the heel of his hand against his temple. Amelia wouldn't be there that night. He knew that. But the sensation of self-satisfaction was enough to feast on in her absence. He could last a few days longer.
The dizziness had almost subsided. Just a few minutes longer. He rested his head on the arm of the bench as he imagined what it would be like when Amelia did return. That would be a day to celebrate indeed.
Rising from the bench at last, Naatos strode to the central hall. It was all still. Once he reached the overlook, he scanned the courtyard.
Most of the bodies of the Talbokians were gone, devoured by the guaras. He would need to see to those before the reinforcements arrived. Some of them could be shipped to the Temple of Selgooko to assist in the training. And when the other Vawtrians arrived, the guaras could serve as an additional food source if needed.
Those wretched Machat had certainly complicated his plans, but they would soon be eliminated as well. A host of Machat could not stand against even a dozen Vawtrians, and soon…
Naatos smiled.
Everything was going exactly as he had planned. At least in the ways that mattered…More or less.
A rap sounded on the stone frame behind him. WroOth leaned around. "And?"
Naatos turned to face his brother, smiling. "It went well. She's breaking."
"So are you getting her or am I?"
"I will. Soon."
"So she said yes?" WroOth tilted his head forward, sounding more surprised.
"Not exactly." Naatos eyed WroOth. "The two Awdawms are not dead though."
"I thought as much when those guaras came running out the doors." WroOth folded his arms. He gave an almost apologetic shrug. "I put them in the tunnel without weapons. The guaras were in the tunnel. There must have been Machat in there as well. Why guaras plus Machat in a tunnel does not equal no Machat, I do not know. But the Machat must have somehow been in there."
"There must have." Naatos braced his arms against the stone railing. "We'll have to find a way to subtly kill that Awdawm suitor if he continues to be problematic."
WroOth gave him a confused look. "Did I imagine the part where the Machat said 'if the Awdawm dies, she dies?'"
"I can save her from death," Naatos said. "If it becomes necessary. And I don't trust the Machat."
"Neither do I." WroOth chuckled. "But…" His tone darkened. "They don't lie. They leave things out. What they don't tell you is more likely to get your loved ones killed than what they do."
"Amelia is developing the split heart. It severed our connection," Naatos said. "Shon will have to be eliminated if her feelings for him aren't removed."
WroOth frowned. "Well that's unusual. But she and he have renounced their betrothal, if one ever existed."
"She does love him." That was a sobering and unpleasant thought. It tarnished the sweetness of his exchange with Amelia as well as the inevitability of his triumph. "But she is no longer pursuing any romantic relationships."
"Then that may be sufficient. Unless there was additional meddling, the connection can't be that strong," WroOth said.
"The split heart is a good sign though," Naatos said. "She wouldn't have experienced it if she didn't have feelings for me." Even if it did mean that her love for the Awdawm was much more intense than it should have been.
"So she may return on her own?" WroOth asked.
"It is possible."
"Regardless…when she is back, what will you do?" WroOth asked.
"How do you mean?"
"Naatos, she defied you. Don't tell me you haven't thought of humiliating her."
"Only if it is necessary."
"It isn't," WroOth said. "And there are few things more pathetic than a man lashing out at a woman he has feelings for because she doesn't share those feelings. It's also remarkably ineffective for making said woman feel anything remotely positive for the man."
"She defied me in front of our forces," Naatos said sternly. "No matter how I feel about her, I cannot allow such a challenge to remain."
"Ordinarily, you might have half a point." WroOth scratched his head. "But the guaras did eat devour most, if not all of the Talbokians here. At least I have yet to find any survivors. So her reputation and the rumors spread about her will go no farther. And if AaQar heard you were thinking about humiliating her further, he'd likely burst a vein or clap you upside the head."
"Amelia defied and disobeyed me. There are consequences for that. I cannot have her thinking she can manipulate me." Naatos punctuated the words with his hand.
"Except she can!"
"No. That is not how this marriage will work. I reject that entirely."
"You can't be that naive." WroOth laughed until he had to lean against the wall for support. "You absolutely can and will be manipulated in this relationship. That's what marriage is, and yours is certainly off-balance."
Naatos narrowed his eyes. "Don't push your luck, little brother."
WroOth clapped his hand on Naatos's shoulder. "Don't do anything stupid, Naatos. If one of us retrieves her or she returns, let's keep some perspective and let the matter go. She was trying to save some of her Ayamin from being eaten by spiders. Given that she's supposed to be our executioner, it seems better to encourage those nurturing and caretaking traits rather than the bloodthirsty war-hungry ones." He climbed up onto the stone ledge.
Naatos shook his head. WroOth wasn't tha
t far off. He was falling in love with Amelia far faster than he wanted, and if his thoughts drifted, it wasn't to vengeance. An infuriating but not entirely unpleasant realization. "I suppose you're off for your nightly flight a little early."
"You know me well." WroOth grinned and stepped back. He disappeared from sight and then reappeared in golden wyvern form. He twisted in the air and then shot over the walls toward the mountains.
A sharp pain struck Amelia across the face again. The cool air around her smelled like stone, smoke, and water. "Amelia, wake up! Amelia!"
Matthu's voice sounded distant. It echoed hollowly in her ears. The room with the tapestries vanished, and there was only blackness. Then the darkness spun with streaks of white and silver. Her chest throbbed beneath intense pressure. "Somebody help! She isn't waking up."
Amelia struggled to answer, fighting to open her eyes. Another sharp blow struck her face, and something shook her shoulders. "Amelia, wake up."
She cracked her eyes open. Warm torchlight surrounded her. She started to sit up, a moan escaping her lips before she sank back against the stone floor. "I…" Another painful spasm clenched in her chest. Everything continued to spin. Her stomach tightened with nausea.
"Amelia, you're awake! Come on, stay with me." Matthu lifted her head up and fanned her.
Amelia's disorientation intensified. Colors blurred together with the pain. A door slammed open, and Kepsalon's face loomed over her.
Someone lifted her onto a bed. Hushed tones whispered above her. Then a cold rag slid over her forehead. It chilled her flesh as if it had been made of ice. Yet it did not slow the room. Amelia couldn't hold her eyelids up. Lifting them again was a struggle.
Something gripped her hand, and the tension and pain in her chest released. It became easier to breathe. She filled her lungs with deep cold breaths, and the room slowed. Sliding her eyes open, she looked up to see Shon sitting beside her. He clasped her hand in both of his. "Just rest, Amelia," he said gently. His eyes had a heaviness about them. A grief of some kind.