by Kristie Cook
His logic makes complete sense, but his motivation baffles me.
“Why?” I’m so confused. Jacoby is one of them, why doesn’t he want me to break the curse? Is this all a ploy to try to trick me into helping them? I back as far away from him as I can possibly manage, but he doesn’t release my hand. I don’t trust myself around him. My thoughts become a jumbled up mess in my head when he gets too close.
“For years I have been used,” he whispers, the pain in his voice obvious. “I’ve tortured hundreds of souls, inflicted pain on them beyond your comprehension. I didn’t think twice about it when I was a kid. I even thought it was pretty cool sometimes,” he shakes his head in disgust and continues, “Dugan was the only father I knew. I did as I was told. As I got older I started feeling conflicted about our way of life. I didn’t want to do it anymore, but when I told Dugan I was done doing his dirty work, he gave me a taste of my own medicine as punishment for my defiance. Every time I tried to refuse to do what he was asking of me, he would lock me up in one of those rooms and convince me to continue. I had no choice. Dugan had given me everything and he could easily take it all away. I hated him. I hated myself. But now that you’ve come along, I realize that maybe I’m not as heartless as I thought I was. That maybe there is hope for me after all.”
He then places my hand over his heart and I feel the rhythmic beats pounding nearly as hard and as fast as my own.
I realize that Jacoby is damaged. That there is a darkness about him that I know should frighten me, but I think there is something else. Something that makes me believe him, against all reason when I know I probably shouldn’t. I look away, not liking the way my heart seems to recognize the beating of his.
I regain my senses and jerk away from him.
“If that is how you really feel, if you are being honest, then you know what you have to do. You have to help me escape.”
“I’m already working on it.” His eyes twinkle as he gives me a slight smile. “Haven’t you been listening? You were right. Of course you are right. All this time I didn’t do what I knew was right because I was afraid. Afraid of the pain, afraid of death, afraid of the unknown. But I’m not afraid anymore.”
“You really are going to try to help me aren’t you?” I ask in disbelief.
He smiles, but before he can say anything, I see movement behind him and I gasp as I realize my time is up. Jacoby, reading my reaction correctly, reaches for my plate as though this is his reason for entering my cell, then turns around to greet Dugan.
“Hey Your Majesty, has it been two days already?” He asks casually.
“No, but I am getting impatient. And after having an interesting little chat with Brian, I’ve decided she has had enough time to come to her senses. Don’t you agree, Jacoby?” He sneers at me.
“You know, I think she could probably use one more day to be persuaded.”
The tension in Jacoby’s shoulders is my only clue that something terrible is about to happen.
“I am afraid that is just not possible,” I hear Dugan say, and as I look up at him he glares back at me intently before a cruel grin spreads across his face.
Then the world starts spinning.
Not in a way that typically precedes a fainting spell, but in a way that reminds me of a disco ball. Pulsating lights encompass my vision, the colors swirling around me with nauseating speed. I feel disoriented. I can’t tell which way is up and which way is down. My instinct is to fall to the ground and curl up in the fetal position, except I don’t know where the ground is. I hear screaming and muffled voices all around me, but when I look around I am completely alone.
No Dugan.
No Dark Elves.
No Jacoby.
I am alone.
A sudden and blinding pressure explodes in my skull, producing the most excruciating pain I have ever felt. Reflexively, I open my mouth to gasp in agony. Only, I realize I can’t breathe. Panicking, I desperately try over and over to take a breath. But it’s useless, and the effort only increases the aching burn in my chest as my lungs scream for oxygen. Black spots take over my vision and my head no longer feels attached to my body. The next thing I know, a hurricane-strength wind slams into my chest and knocks me back to the ground. I still can’t breathe, but this time it isn’t from lack of oxygen. The blasting wind is relentless, and it pummels me with painful force. I curl up on the floor tornado-drill style and just pray for it to be over soon.
I get my wish.
The howling wind vanishes instantly, and I am finally able to catch my breath. My burning lungs greedily gulp in the sweet air, but I don’t have a chance to fully recover. To my horror, water begins pouring into the dungeon from nowhere, and it is filling rapidly. Panic mode sets in yet again.
I can’t swim.
I mean, I used to know how to swim. But it’s been so long I think I have forgotten how. Is it like riding a bike? Do I even remember how to ride a bike? In my hysteria, wild thoughts zoom in and out of my brain.
The room is still spinning chaotically as the water continues to rise. I clamber desperately onto the small cot to give myself some height advantage, but it’s no use. The water is up to my shoulders now, and I have to keep spitting out mouthfuls of the salty liquid as I frantically kick my legs in an attempt to stay afloat.
Then something in the water grabs me.
I kick and fight with all of my strength, but I continue to be pulled downward by the invisible force. I hold my breath for as long as I possibly can, but it’s no use. I am too weak. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to have some power over the water element. My body gives up, and I inhale the burning liquid into my lungs.
I know it then. I know I am going to die.
Just like Maddie.
As soon as my sister enters my mind, I see her chubby little face as vividly as if she were right here with me. The agonizing thought of leaving this sweet baby girl behind at the time when she needs me most gives me a sudden, desperate burst of strength. I kick with all my might and finally reach the surface, coughing and sputtering, screaming Maddie’s name.
I emerge from the depths of the salty water, gasping desperately for air. But instead of the sweet oxygen my lungs are screaming for, I inhale a searing gulp of acrid smoke. The water is suddenly gone, replaced by a scorching wall of fire that encircles me. I am completely trapped.
How is that possible?
And then it hits me.
Dugan.
Is he controlling the air, water, and fire? I was under the impression that Elves only specialized in one of the elements, but surely he must specialize in all three to have such immense power over them. The thought of someone so evil being that powerful sickens me, and I realize I must do everything in my power to make sure he is never released from the curse. I feel the tingling sensation in my fingertips and realize what I am about to do approximately two seconds before I actually do it.
I command the fire away from me and with all my remaining strength I mentally shove it right back in the direction it came from—toward where my instincts tell me Dugan is. My head finally begins to clear, but before I have a chance to process anything that just happened, darkness overcomes me.
Chapter Fourteen
My head is throbbing. I am awake, but I am afraid to open my eyes. The last thing I remember happening before the world went black is mentally pushing Dugan’s wall of fire as far away from me as I possibly could. It obviously took a lot of my strength, because I am so weak today I don’t even know if I will be able to pry my eyelids open. So I remain still, silently praying that this has all been a horrible nightmare. I just keep chanting: It wasn’t real. It can’t be real. None of this is real.
“I know you are awake,” he whispers softly.
I can’t help but feel a surge of anger toward Jacoby. One, because he promised he was going to help me escape, yet he continues to remain a part of the group responsible for holding me hostage, and two, if we start talking, I know I will be forced to acknowledge the dreadfu
l reality of my situation.
And that just sucks.
I feel him sit down beside me on the narrow cot. He gently brushes a sticky strand of hair away from my eyes, but I still don’t open them.
“Who is Maddie?” he asks me softly. At the sound of her name, the hole in my chest explodes. The pain is unbearable. The tears stream down my face uncontrollably, and I am rather caught off guard by this sudden release of emotion. He pulls me into his arms, and I don’t fight the warmth of his embrace.
I’m not sure how long I let him hold me as I cry until my eyes burn dry. There is something oddly comforting about letting his strong arms encase me. I press my face into the soft flannel of his shirt, feeling the hardness of his chest and inhaling deeply the rustic fragrance that is all Jacoby. The anger I felt towards him earlier is gone, but the inner turmoil is still there. The fact remains that he’s still keeping me captive despite the promises he made to me, and he has done nothing to help me escape this desolate place. On the other hand, I’m pretty sure comforting the prisoners is not part of his job description, so that must mean he cares about what happens to me, right? Maybe he really does want to be my friend? Suddenly, I feel compelled to tell him. To trust him.
“How do you know that name?”
“When Dugan was...” he can’t say the word, “...you kept screaming it.” His words are spoken so softly, like my suffering has somehow caused him pain. But what makes me so different from any of the other humans he witnesses the Dark Elves torturing every day?
“What do you mean you heard me scream her
name? You weren’t even there. Nobody was.” I pull away from him.
“Mia, do you know what Dugan’s specialty is?”
“Water, Fire, and Air?” I guess.
“Not exactly, his affinity is Spirit. He made all that happen in your mind.”
Holy smokes. I knew he was powerful, but I had no idea he was so powerful that he could torment me inside my own head.
“I’ve never even heard of Spirit,” I say accusingly, even though I know that it isn’t Jacoby’s fault my education has been so limited. I was only in Á lfheimr for a week, but surely at some point during my brief training, Grey could have mentioned it.
“Really?” He seems surprised. “Healing is part of the spirit element. It’s not a very common affinity. Most elves only possess control over the regular elements: Water, Earth, Air, and Fire. Things that are natural, tangible. Those who are attuned with Spirit, on the other hand, have power over the mind, body, and soul. Like your ability to heal and Dugan’s ability to make you see things in your head. Both of these things are aspects of Spirit. Nobody ever told you?”
I shake my head no. Spirit? What does that mean for me?
“That is how you were able to fight him off. You may not be able to control the elements in the physical world, but you do have power over them in your mind. That’s because of Spirit.”
I am lost in my thoughts when I feel his hand grasp my own.
“Mia, who is Maddie?” he asks me again, forcing me back to reality.
“My sister. Maddie is my sister.” I barely whisper the words, but somehow he hears me anyway. He tightens his arms around me and presses his lips to the top of my head. I feel an unexpected, but familiar, fluttering in my stomach. The words start spilling out of my mouth now. “She is sick. That is why I left Á lfheimr. I was going to heal her. But now...”
He is silent for a moment. Then he whispers, “I swear to you. I will help you. I will get you out of here.”
“You keep saying that, but I still don’t understand why! Why would you risk everything to help me? And why haven’t you done anything to help me yet?” My attempt at demanding answers is weak at best.
“Because, you and me? We’re the same,” is his simple response. I guess I am probably the only other Half-blood he has ever met. “The only reason we are still here is because I don’t know if I will be able to transport you on my own. I’ve never transported anyone. I am working on sneaking you an amulet. I think it will help make the magic stronger. We can’t afford to mess this up. Believe me, I’m working on it. You just have to trust me, okay?”
Hope stirs in the pit of my empty stomach. Then common sense quickly squashes it.
“But how?”
“I have some connections. I’ll get you out of here. Please, just trust me?”
And against all logic, I do.
“Can I ask you something?” he blurts suddenly.
“I guess?” Between my emotional outburst and trying to absorb this new information, I am mentally drained once again, and my eyelids flutter as I struggle to keep them open.
“What song was that?” The inquisitive nature of his question is punctuated by a sudden tightness in his eyes.
“Come again?” I ask. I have absolutely no clue what he is talking about. I am confused because he looks so desperate. Maybe I heard him wrong?
“Did you know that you not only talk in your sleep, but you also sing?” His wide smile produces a single dimple. I know he is trying to lighten the mood, but I can still see the tightness in his eyes. “Right before you opened your eyes, you started singing a song. Well actually, you were mostly humming so I didn’t catch very many words, but it sounded like some kind of lullaby?"
Oh, God. How mortifying.
Well, I am wide awake now.
“I was singing?” I am desperately wishing that he is making this up, that I really didn’t do such an embarrassing thing, but I have a hunch that I am just not that lucky.
“Yes. Something about seeing the moon and hearing a lark...” he trails off.
At once I know exactly what I was singing, and my embarrassment grows.
“It’s Maddie’s favorite lullaby. I sing it to her”, and only her I think to myself, “before bed sometimes,” I admit, looking down at my hands folded in my lap.
“It was nice,” he says earnestly.
I peek up at him through the curtain of hair I have hidden myself behind. He doesn’t look like he is being sarcastic. He looks sincere.
Which almost embarrasses me more.
“Will you sing it again?”
“I don’t sing in front of people,” I say quickly. I don’t sing in front of anyone. Nobody. Ever. Except for Maddie, and that is only because she is still a baby, so she can’t judge me. Yet. To her, I am the most amazing singer ever. I have spent many hours entertaining her with a radio and makeshift microphone fashioned from an old hair brush.
“Please? It sounds so familiar. It’s on the tip of my tongue.” He looks lost in his own thoughts for a moment. “Please? I need to hear the rest.”
I start to fervently decline yet again, when I catch the pleading look in his eyes. For a moment, he looks completely vulnerable. Innocent. With no further hesitation, I start to sing quietly.
“I see the moon, the moon sees me
shining through the leaves of the old oak tree
Oh, let the light that shines on me
shine on the one I love.
Over the mountain, over the sea,
back where my heart is longing to be
Oh, let the light that shines on me
shine on the one I love.
I hear the lark, the lark hears me
singing from the leaves of the old oak tree
Oh, let the lark that sings to me
sing to the one I love.”
“I think my mother used to sing that to me,” he says wistfully. “Thank you.”
“Sorry, I am such a terrible singer. I probably butchered it,” I say apologetically.
“No, it was good. It was perfectly in tune...You didn’t miss a single note, Lark.”
His mock sincerity makes me smile.
“What did you just call me?” I ask.
“Lark. I think I finally came up with the perfect nickname for you. What do you think?” he smiles proudly.
“It’s better than ’princess’,” I admit. “But I am not exactly sure why
you think it’s perfect.”
“Don’t you know? Larks are known for their melodious singing.”
He smiles so sweetly that I am certain he is, in fact, making fun of me but instead of pissing me off, it makes me laugh. I allow myself this moment, knowing that my time for laughing and smiling is coming to an end.
I just didn’t realize how quickly.
“Well, isn’t this cozy?” The sound of Dugan’s voice makes me jump. At the sight of him, my heart races in anticipation of another torture session. I feel like my knees are about to collapse beneath me, but I stand anyway. I will not show him weakness. Something in the back of my mind realizes that Jacoby should distance himself from me, but I am relieved that he stays.
“Well, well dear boy. Making friends, are we?” Dugan is obviously speaking to Jacoby, but his black, soulless eyes never leave my face.
“With all due respect, Your Majesty, what else is there to do down here?” Jacoby shrugs.
I can never tell if he is being serious or not. He says he is on my side and that I should trust him, but he lies so convincingly. Is he lying to me, too? Is that the only reason he has been kind to me? Because there is ’nothing else to do’? My heart drops to the ground and I feel so torn. I still don’t know if I should trust him. The fact that my feelings are actually hurt is even more baffling. I tilt my head to get a better look at Jacoby’s face, but he doesn’t look back at me. He just stares at the space directly above Dugan’s head, not making eye contact with anyone.
“I see,” Dugan continues. “Brian, would you be ever so kind as to relieve Jacoby of his guard duties for the day? He must be overworked since he is having difficulty remembering his place. Perhaps we should remind him of our ultimate goal?”
“Yes, sir.” Brian steps up eagerly and takes his post in front of my cell.
“Be ready,” Jacoby speaks in my mind. I’m startled and it causes me to jump, but I don’t think anyone else notices. He seems hesitant to leave, but spares me one long and meaningful look before nodding his head once to me, then once to Dugan before leaving me at the mercy of the Devil himself.
Dugan stares at me like a vulture circling his prey before going in for the kill. I can hear my knees knocking together, so I know that he doesn’t even need his heightened elf senses to know I’m scared out of my wits.