“Him?”
“The Metal Man. He knows I’m coming.”
Erinie leaned forward. “How does he know?”
“I spoke to him in a visiondream. He told me he would help me defeat the enemy. I couldn’t understand his language at first, but then somehow I could. He spoke one of the languages of our ancestors, those that lived under the Sun, long ago.”
“So Wrynric was right when he said you’d seen the Sun.” Erinie shook her head wistfully. “I wish my brethren were alive to see you.”
Kara struggled to sit up again. “I need to leave. Please, help me up.”
“No, Scion, you need rest. It’s a long and treacherous journey to the Dead City and it’ll be hard enough for those of us who’re uninjured, but for you... Give it a few days and we’ll see if you’re up to it then.”
Kara tried to push herself up but found her muscles would not obey her. Sucking in a pained breath, she fell back and moaned as urgency pulled her one way and her feeble body another. It felt like she was being torn apart.
“You see, Scion?” Erinie shook her head. “You won’t be going anywhere just yet. Rest, get your strength back.”
All Kara could do was give a weak nod.
“Wrynric told me you hear voices in your visiondreams,” Erinie said. “Who was it that spoke to you of Imogen, Mother of Steel Children?”
It wasn’t just in visiondreams that voices came to Kara anymore. Hurry, you must hurry. Get up. Get out of bed and go.
What if Minard found out about the new voice? Would he kill her? What if it was a sign she was the scion of the prophecy?
Kara swallowed. But if he did kill her, at least her torment would be over...
If you die, the world will die with you, the presence said. You are important. Together, we will save the human race.
Kara wanted to scoff at that. So many contradictions. Both Kahan and the patriarch claimed they wanted to save humanity by killing her. Yet, Arden and the presence claimed she would be the savior of the human race.
Who was right?
Erinie touched Kara on the arm. “Scion? Who told you of these metal children and of Imogen?”
Kara sighed. “I don’t know her name. She looked like a ghost from the stories people tell to frighten one another. The ghost woman only comes to me when I’m on a place called the surface.”
“The surface?”
“I think the surface is the place our ancestors came from.” Kara rubbed her fingers over the bulb on the passkey. “There are two women in my visiondreams now. The one on the surface and another, more recent one who guided me through the Dead City to the Metal Man.”
“Do you know who the second woman is?”
Kara had her suspicions but felt hesitant to share them. “I don’t know her name. My memories are vague, but I think I heard her at the temple. She wanted me to do something there but I can’t recall what.”
Erinie pursed her lips. “Wrynric said the ghost woman in your visiondreams told you to seek a library in a place called Annbar. Do you know if the Dead City and Annbar are one and the same?” She gripped the side of Kara’s bed, eyes alight with hunger. “Did you see the library?”
Kara had forgotten about the library. What was happening? Where were all her memories?
“I think they’re the same place, but I didn’t see a library.”
Erinie’s shoulders drooped. “I hope we find it, for we lost many of our books and records when the Knives of Dwaycar burned Sunholm.” She brightened a little. “Perhaps one day, I’ll be able to return to Sunholm and search the ruined library for books or computer files that might have survived.”
“I hope you can.” Kara lifted the passkey. “So much has been lost because of this.”
“Much can be saved because of it too.”
Saved? Kara thought. Not likely.
Erinie brushed Kara’s bangs behind her ears. “You really are an odd one. If only I had the time to study you, I could find out why your visiondreams are different. No other scion heard voices in theirs, nor could they interact with them. They never saw the surface or our Lost Sun.”
She started stroking Kara’s cheek. “I wish I could see the surface and discover if it’s really the place we were exiled from.”
“The surface belongs to the dead now. Perhaps it is best it stayed that way.”
“Maybe, but things can change,” Erinie said. “The living can seek to reclaim it.”
Why bother? They were all doomed anyway. The enemy would kill them all.
Fingers brushed against the edge of Kara’s mind. There is hope. It lies in Annbar. You must go there now.
How? Kara grimaced. My wounds hurt, my body is weak and I’ve lost everything, even my memories.
The fingers withdrew. Your plight is inconsequential to my plans. This time, I will save us all.
But I can’t. I can’t go on. I’m so tired. I want to stay here and rest.
After a long beat, the voice said, You have three days to recover, and no more.
Erinie continued to stroke Kara’s cheek. “Rest, Scion. You are safe here. I will take care of you.”
Holding the passkey, Kara tried to draw comfort from Erinie’s touch. Her anxiety and paranoia were dormant but with the loss of her memories, the empty feeling inside had grown ever deeper. “Tell me why I’m losing my memories. I see fleeting images of places and people, but I no longer remember their names.” Kara widened her eyes. “Are my memories gone forever?”
“I don’t know, Scion. The poison of the jamalgana might have caused your memory loss. You’re the first person I know of that has survived it. Or it could be—”
“The passkey.”
“The passkey.” Erinie kissed Kara’s forehead. “Don’t give up, they might return.” She drew back her lips. “Tell me. What do you remember?”
Kara took a moment to collect her thoughts. “I remember being given the passkey, the massacre at the tavern, then fleeing the capital and meeting Aemon. I recall only bits and pieces after that. I know Aemon took me to the Temple of Sacred Lights, that I was wounded there. I remember my visiondreams and know that the patriarch wanted to hand me over to the Inquisitors.”
Erinie chuckled. “He’d love to do that to all of us born out here in the Nether. We have never made our home under the sacred lights and pay little heed to the divines. They were never our gods.” She glanced at the passkey. “What do you remember before Wrynric gave it to you? Anything?”
Kara searched her memories but found when she caught sight of one, it melted like candle wax before she could work out what it was. “I remember almost nothing.” She sobbed, “My mother, Kristia, I don’t remember what she looked like. I don’t remember. I don’t...”
“I never met your mother when I went to Stelemia with Arden and Wrynric.” Erinie smiled warmly. “But I do know she must have been beautiful. Arden betrayed his binding oath to be with her.”
Feeling drained, Kara closed her eyes and tried to find peace with the emptiness inside and come to terms with the torment of her throbbing wounds. Erinie continued to stroke Kara’s cheek, her touch gentle and reassuring.
After a few minutes Kara opened her eyes. “You knew my father. Tell me of him.”
Erinie slowly leaned back. “Much like his father, Arden was a great man and the leader of Sunholm. To some, he was a god among men, and to others a solid foundation our community built itself upon.”
Her eyes moistened. “Arden was loved by everyone. He made peace with heretics and fought back monsters born of ancient nightmare. Once, when Sunholm was threatened by a clan of marauding bone people, your father led an ingenious surprise attack on their camp and routed them. He was outnumbered ten to one. After his victory, Sunholm was never threatened by that clan again.”
Kara shook her head in wonder. “He sounds like a hero you hear about in the old stories.”
“Some of us might not want to admit it, but Arden, like all men, had his flaws. His falling in love with
your mother while bound to another scion broke our sacred oath. He never spoke of you or your mother, but everyone knew what had happened, though few blamed him for his misdeed. His wife is... an unlikable woman, to say the least.”
Finally, Kara felt a pang of sorrow for Arden. He had started becoming more than just a name to her. He had been a real person—a man one could look up to.
“What else do you know of him?
“I know much, for he was like a father to me. Many of us owe him our lives. Though always busy, he made time for anyone who needed him.” Erinie let out a sad laugh. “I remember one time I startled him when I was a little girl. I hid behind a flowstone and waited for him to return from a scouting mission. When he walked by me, I leapt out of hiding and tugged on his beard.” She sniffed, tears running unchecked down her cheeks. “You should have seen his face. He looked like he wanted to throw me into the Mergen Sump to swim with the blind fish.”
Kara tried to laugh, but all she managed to get out was a single humph. “Wrynric said my father saw me wearing the passkey in a visiondream.”
“Indeed. He saw you take it to the Metal Man and later lead an army against the ancient enemy.” Erinie paused to wipe tears away. “He might have seen more, but the Knives of Dwaycar came... and took him from us.”
Kara let Erinie cry. She’d felt the same way when Berda and the others back at the Golden Keg had been slaughtered. So much death. So much grief. Would it ever end?
“What do you know of my sister, Semira?” Kara asked, when Erinie seemed up to talking again.
Erinie drew back, as if Kara had tried to bite her. Kara waited for an answer but it didn’t come. “I’m sorry I brought her up, but I—”
“Semira was... a troubled woman. Unlike the other scions, she didn’t have visiondreams.” Erinie grimaced, her face glistening with fresh tears. “I think she felt she had no place in Sunholm. The other scions tormented her, called her names or just ignored her. Arden and Wrynric loved her and tried to keep her a part of our community, but I think that made things worse. Perhaps she thought they did it out of pity.”
“That’s terrible.”
“It gets worse. Her mother, Meridia, disowned Semira when she was a little girl. Your sister had it tough, she really did, but she didn’t make it easy for anyone to like her.” Erinie let out a faint sigh, “Not even me.”
Poor Semira. What had she done to deserve such scorn? It was not her fault she was born different. “What happened to her when Sunholm was destroyed? Did she die?”
“I don’t know.” Erinie’s voice had become a pained murmur. “Please. Can we change the subject?”
“But I just want to know more about my sister.”
“Maybe later we can speak more on her, but for now I want you to let it go. There are too many painful memories for me to dredge up and I’m not yet ready to deal with them. So please...”
At least you still have your memories, Kara thought bitterly. Reluctantly, she decided to let the topic of her sister go. She would bring it up some other time. “Can I see Aemon if he’s awake?”
Erinie seemed relieved. “I’ll get him, but don’t talk too long. You need to get some rest. Wrynric will want to leave as soon as you’re up to it.”
Kara watched her go. Why were Wrynric and Erinie so reluctant to talk about Semira? What had she done?
A few minutes later, Aemon entered and hurried to Kara’s side. “Thank Lydan, you are awake.”
Though relieved to see him, she had to force herself to smile. “Aemon.”
He burst into tears. “I am here. I did not want to leave your side but they made me.”
Kara gingerly brushed away his tears, noticing as she did so that the bruise she’d given him outside the Tomb of Ibilirith was fading. “Don’t weep for me. I’m still here.”
“Kara...”
“I’ll rest for now, but we need to leave in three days’ time. The Metal Man waits for me.”
“Erinie said your memories—”
“Most of them are gone.” Kara let her smile fade. “I feel empty.”
Her tears finally came and she spread her arms to let him embrace her. He hesitated, glancing at the door.
Would he spurn her like he had back at Rylore Bellholes?
“What is it, Aemon?”
He turned back to her sheepishly. “Nothing.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Before you passed out, you looked at me with such loathing. You were not yourself, were you?”
A painful lump sprang up in Kara’s throat. “No, Aemon. Please hug me. I need you to hold me and never let go.”
Finally, he bent down and hugged her. They held one another for a long time, and eventually she slipped into painless sleep.
Chapter 22
AEMON
Aemon woke to the sound of raised voices. He looked around his small room, eyes half open. Light from the passage outside filtered in through the curtain passing for a door.
Where was Minard? His staff still leaned against the side of his bed, but the monk was gone.
“Shhh, quiet, she might hear you.”
It was Wrynric, but who was he talking to?
“You think I care?” came a woman’s voice.
“Stop speaking so loud,” Wrynric snapped.
Aemon climbed out of bed and crept over to the curtain to listen. He heard a slapping sound. “Get your hands off me, you old fool,” the woman said.
In a harsh whisper, Wrynric snapped something back. The woman lowered her voice and Aemon could no longer hear what she said.
Their voices were coming from somewhere down the passage. Curious, Aemon pulled aside the curtain and checked to see if anyone was about. The dimly lit passage outside his room looked deserted.
He ducked out the doorway and took cover behind a metal barrel with a candle burning on top. He waited to make sure no one had seen him, then snuck up to the curtain leading to Wrynric’s room. Aemon carefully pried it open just wide enough for him to see inside.
The old warrior sat on the edge of a metal table, his posture rigid and mouth set. The woman stood just out of Aemon’s view, and he dared not risk pulling the curtain aside any further to see who she was. He had to strain his ears to listen as the woman spoke again.
“I’ve seen her in my visions three times since you left. You believed in Ard—Ard—” She sobbed, stumbling on the name. “You believed in his visiondreams. Why not mine?”
The old man scowled. “I can understand why you don’t like the half-blood. Not only is she a reminder of what Arden did, but she also looks like—”
“I told you to never speak that name again.”
“She’s your firstborn, whether you like it or not. We don’t know what happened or if she was even involved.”
“She was involved. I know it in my heart. She always skulked alone at the edge of town, talking to her invisible friend. We should have thrown her out when we learned she couldn’t share in our visiondreams.”
Wrynric let out a deep sigh. “So now you project your hatred of your firstborn onto Arden’s half-blood daughter. If you’d seen what I saw at Celestial Rest and Deep Cave, you’d know—”
The old warrior grunted as the woman slapped him across the face. “Why must you constantly remind me of his sin? She’s not his daughter! My husband said he disowned her after I made him beg on his knees for my forgiveness for what he did. She is nothing to him.”
“Yes, she is. You cannot change that.”
Her voice became a strained hiss. “I’m over arguing with you. Now listen to me. I’ve had several visiondreams of a woman with white hair and gray eyes leading an army of metal monsters with the hearts of men. I saw them attack an army of soldiers and decimate them. After the battle, the soldiers’ bodies were harvested by eight-legged metal creatures who took ragged chunks of flesh and organs and placed them into jars on their backs.” She paused, her breathing little more than a shallow hiss. “I saw the Priest King fall when that filthy husk of a half-blood orde
red her machine beasts to tear him apart. When he was in pieces, the beasts placed his still-beating heart into—”
“Enough, Meridia.”
Meridia... Aemon had heard that name before, but where?
Then he had it. Wrynric had mentioned her at the temple. It was Kara’s stepmother. But what was she saying? Kara would never do those things.
“Ibilirth’s prophecy is true,” Meridia wailed. “Why won’t you listen to me? It was her I saw. It was her!”
Wrynric slammed his fist on the table, his armor jingling. “Before Arden made us flee Sunholm, he told me the Final Battle nears. He said his half-blood daughter would carry what we now call the passkey to the Metal Man, and that he would help her raise a great host. She will lead that host against the ancient enemy and save us all.”
Meridia laughed bitterly, “You stupid old fool. Have you forgotten our oath? Let me remind you: We who are chosen to carry the lineage of the scions through the ages of the future untold must keep the bloodline pure...” She raised her voice. “A half-blood is not pure, which means that vile whore is not a scion.”
The old man began to pace. “We put the passkey around the neck of every scion in Sunholm and nothing happened. I forced it onto the half-blood and it came to life. Now she has visiondreams of something called the surface, and has seen the Lost Sun.”
Meridia stepped into Aemon’s view, her face flushed with anger. “It doesn’t matter. She isn’t a scion.”
Wrynric spun to face her. “No, she might be something more.”
“More? She’ll become a killer, just like her sister.”
“I thought you didn’t want to bring her up.” Wrynric sat back on the edge of the table. “Like I said before, we don’t know if she was involved.”
Meridia bared her teeth like a vicious dog. “You still care for her, don’t you? Like you’ve come to care for the half-blood whore.”
After a long silence, Wrynric said something so quietly, Aemon could not catch what he said. Meridia’s reply was an angry snarl. “If you don’t have it in you to do what must be done, then let me do it. I’ll go into the half-blood’s room and slit her throat while she sleeps. It’s the only way we can be sure she won’t go to the Dead City and come back and kill us all.”
Heir to a Lost Sun: A Caverns of Stelemia Novel Page 32