Veiled Innocence (Book One, The Soul Cycle)

by Jones, Krystle

  She gulped against another wave of nausea. She would worry about the feather later; right now, it took far too much effort to think.

  Gabriel hesitantly brought his hand up the side of the bed and reached for hers. His fingertips touched the back of her hand, but he paused and withdrew. He laid his hand on the edge of the bed. It was shaking.

  “I can’t… today… you have no idea how scared I was for you.” His voice was tight, and his eyes were shining brightly. His intensity captivated her; she couldn’t speak.

  “I prayed to the gods, the first time I’d prayed in years, that they would let you stay,” he said hoarsely. “And when they didn’t know what was wrong with you or how to help you… Oh gods, Lian.” He bowed his head, looking fragile and breakable for the first time she could ever remember.

  This was not the Gabriel she knew. Her Gabriel was strong and brave, the best at what he did. She suddenly felt very guilty at having caused him so much grief. It broke her heart to see him in so much agony.

  “Please,” she said, awkwardly reaching for his hand. “Do not fear for me. I will be better in no time. You shall see. Ursa said the medicine is starting to make me well again. Shhh. It’s all right.”

  Her thumb stroked the back of his hand, and his trembling eased. She always wondered what it would feel like to have a mother do that for her. “Besides,” she said with a wry smile, “it wouldn’t be the first time I found myself in a tough spot, would it? We wouldn’t want to ruin my spotless record.”

  He lifted his head, her attempt at humor lost on him, and though his face was still pained, he now stared in awe at her thumb as it caressed his skin in tiny wisps of movement. Slowly, he raised his eyes to hers and searched them.

  Someone cleared their throat behind him, and Gabriel closed his eyes and pulled his hand away, rising as he did. Drenna was standing behind him.

  “Pardon me, my Lady, but these were brought for you just now.”

  She set a slender white vase of delicate blue flowers on Lian’s bedside table. “It came with a card. Shall I read it to you?”

  Lian tried to shake her head but was immediately stopped by a spasm in her neck. “No,” she said through her teeth. “I can read it.”

  Drenna handed over the card, and Lian thanked her. The girl curtsied and backed away from the bed, where Gabriel still stood. He was giving the flowers an odd look.

  “Someone is very thoughtful,” he said, sounding disheartened. “I shall leave you to your card and your gift, my Lady.” He gave her a quick bow and then hurried out of the room as quickly as Ursa had.

  Lian wanted to call after him, to tell him to stay, but her voice was too weak. She felt annoyed at Drenna for interrupting them, that maybe he wouldn’t have left if she hadn’t, but her annoyance was replaced by astonishment when she opened the letter.

  It was from her sister.

  Dear Lianora,

  I am sorry our visit was cut short, and I pray this illness does not last long. I hope you like blue.

  Sincerely,

  Ana-Elise

  Lian carefully turned the letter over in her hands, handling it as if it might shatter and disappear if she crinkled it. Her sister had never given her a present before.

  Maybe she had misjudged her sister. Maybe her reactions in the Marketplace were nothing more than a result of stress over her upcoming wedding. Or perhaps Lian had imagined it all. After all, it had been unbearably hot, and she was ill.

  She brushed her thoughts aside, letting joy fill her up to the point she thought she would burst. A real present from Ana-Elise!

  In the hallway, several servants shouted at each other. The door opened and closed, but she could still see Drenna out of the corner of her eye, nervously wringing her hands in her apron. The page must have left.

  “What’s going on?” Lian’s raspy voice was barely audible.

  Before Drenna could reply, Grehn burst into the room, his graying hair sticking out in puffs along his head. The wrinkles in his brow doubled as he looked around the room. “Did I not send more servants up here?” He removed his spectacles and pinched the bridge of his nose.

  Drenna gulped. “No, sir. Just Jakison and me.”

  Grehn groaned and promptly stuck his spectacles back into place. He eyed Lian sharply. “Is she faring well?”

  “I – I’m not sure. I suppose so. She just woke up.”

  Grehn looked Lian over with a curt nod. “She looks well enough,” he said, looking back at Drenna. “Come, you’re needed in the Grand Foyer.”

  Drenna glanced at Lian. “But, what if she… you told me to stay –”

  “I don’t care what I said earlier. Heed what I’m saying now!”

  “Ye – yes, sir!” Drenna shot Lian an apologetic look as Grehn threw the door open and ushered her out. He followed close behind, slammed the door, and all was quiet again, save for the increasing ruckus in the hallway.

  Lian listened intently. She absently fingered her necklace as the hallway quieted, but she could still hear the murmur of a crowd from somewhere on the first level.

  After a few minutes passed, it became obvious no one was coming back anytime soon. She made up her mind, and after tucking the pendant in her nightgown, she gingerly climbed out of bed, nearly crying out in the process. Her curiosity won over her pain, and she tiptoed to the door, gritting her teeth against the protests of her body, and cracked it open. The hallway was empty.

  She carefully stepped into the hall and slipped the door closed behind her. She listened carefully for a few seconds before picking a direction. With every step, her body hurt more and more. She bit her tongue so hard she drew blood and wound her hands into her nightgown, squeezing it every time her bones jolted.

  The commotion grew louder. She kneeled on the balcony and peered through the black iron railing into the foyer.

  A hoard of servants was running around, carrying towels, blankets, and bandages, and in the center of it all stood a girl with messy red hair. She was nicely dressed in a deep green dress that complimented her hair color, but she was covered in dirt and twigs, like she had been dragged through Dreaka’s Forest. She looked young, possibly a few years younger than Lian, and her face flicked about wildly, like an animal caught in a cage. Lian squinted. Bruises bloomed along the girl’s neckline and face. One of her eyes was nearly swollen completely shut.

  A strange, prickling sensation ran along Lian’s arms, accompanied by the sense she was being watched. She looked past the red-haired girl and gasped.

  A woman with dark brown hair and olive toned skin stared back at her. Her lithe body was dressed in exquisite gems and a shimmering black gown that accentuated her form. She sat on a chair while the healer examined her. She too looked as if she had endured a beating. Her skin was bruised along her chest and arms, and Lian thought she saw a long red gash across her neck, but it was hard to tell with the woman’s long hair. Lian’s father and sister were speaking with her. Alastor was also there, with his hand on the small of Ana’s back.

  All the while the woman stared at her. No, wait. Not at her; her gaze wasn’t directed at her eyes.

  She’s looking at my necklace. But how?

  Lian subconsciously reached up and placed a hand over the pendant, pressing it into her skin beneath her gown. The woman’s black eyes made her uneasy, and she quickly broke her gaze. They were beautiful and frightening at the same time, like the darkness that had consumed her earlier.

  “Darkness comes for you now.”

  A chill broke out over her. Could this woman be who the dream meant? Was she there for the necklace?

  Lian closed her eyes. It’s nonsense. Perhaps the medicine is causing me to draw irrational conclusions. It was only a dream, after all.

  A dream that had felt very real.

  She suddenly very much wanted to crawl into bed and forgot about everything, at least for a day. Crawling to the cover of the wall, she began to rise when a high-pitched voice caught her by surprise.

  “Wh
at are you doing out here? You’re supposed to be in your room!”

  Lian gasped and stumbled, but a small hand caught her arm and steadied her. “Ursa,” she croaked.

  Ursa wasted no time and gingerly began leading her down the hall. “You’re too weak to be wandering around on your own,” she gently scolded. “What if you’d passed out?”

  Lian smiled wryly and then grimaced as a wave of pain hit her. “I didn’t though, did I? Besides, how else was I supposed to find out what was happening? It seems the whole of Accalia is in our foyer tonight.”

  Ursa clucked her tongue. “You and your curiosity. One of these days, it will get the better of you.”

  Lian groaned, and Ursa adjusted her hold on her arm. “What do you know, Ursa?”

  Ursa squeezed her mouth shut. Her lips were so thin already that they almost disappeared completely. “I’m not supposed to speak of it…”

  “Even better. You know it will only make me ask more questions, and surely you don’t want to put up with my relentless prodding, do you?”

  “I could request to be reassigned to a different part of the fortress.”

  “You wouldn’t. I know you too well.” They slowly turned a corner and proceeded down the wing that contained her chambers. “You’d feel guilty and return to me within less than a day.”

  Ursa sighed. “I should know better than to argue with you at this point.” She glanced behind her and leaned closer. “The dark-haired woman is Countess Merí, and the red-headed girl is her handmaiden. They were traveling down Dreaka’s Road when bandits descended upon their party and robbed them clean of nearly everything they own. Everyone else was killed, their escorts, the driver… they barely escaped with their lives.”

  Lian frowned. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would the bandits leave them alive and no one else?”

  Ursa shrugged. “From what I gather, the bandits thought they were as good as dead, and from the looks of them, I’m apt to believe them.” She shuddered. “It makes me cold all over to think people like that exist in the world.”

  Lian thought of her mother lying helpless beside the bank of a river as her father rode off to rejoin his hunting party, oblivious to what he had done. No one ever suspected the duke was capable of rape.

  “Yes,” Lian said flatly, “I’m afraid they do.”

  Rumors, Lian. They are just empty rumors. Maybe she died of natural causes and not… She mentally shook the image from her head.

  They reached her bedchamber, and Ursa led her straight to the bed. Ursa helped her up and was tucking the sheets around her when Lian asked, “Did you see Gabriel down there?”

  Ursa froze. “I don’t recall,” she said stiffly. “There were too many people. Why would I care if he’s there or not?”

  Lian raised a brow. “All right,” she said slowly. “Sorry, I was only asking.”

  Ursa’s shoulders sagged as she finished smoothing the sheets and turned around. “If you require nothing else of me, then I need to return downstairs. There’s much to be done. Good night, my Lady.” She kept her back to Lian as she spoke and left without a single glance behind her.

  That’s strange. She never calls me ‘my Lady’ when it’s only the two of us. Maybe it’s the stress of everything that’s happened lately. She’d tell me if something was wrong.

  Once again, she found herself alone and suddenly very tired. She nestled deeper into the soft sheets and closed her eyes. The weight of the crystal on her chest coaxed a small smile from her, reminding her she was never alone, and her confusion over Ursa’s somewhat cold exit faded.

  Nothing mattered anymore. It was all nothing but a dream; the beautiful visitor, Orris, Gabriel, her sister – all of it.

  She caught tiny points of blue flicking in and out of the shadows from the corner of her eye. Then she drifted off to sleep with a smile on her lips and dreamed of dancing in a field of blue flowers.

  CHAPTER 8Red

  FOR THE NEXT TWO days, the court buzzed with excitement, both for the impending Engagement Ball and the mysterious countess.

  Servants and staff flitted about with such anxious looks on their faces that Lian was unsure how they managed to accomplish anything at all.

  As she mended, she was able to leave her chambers for longer periods of time before feeling faint, and what she saw amazed her.

  The gloomy fortress was completely transformed. Fresh flowers and silk streamers in varying shades of red and gold hung from the polished sconces and banisters, adding an uncharacteristic cheer to the dark corridors. Any chips in the walls were repaired with a dollop of mortar or covered up entirely with a decoration of some sort. Tattered tapestries were replaced by newer ones.

  The garden was the most astonishing makeover of all, having gone from a graveyard of dead plants and overgrown weeds to a state of manicured, healthy perfection. Shabby bushes were cut into shapes of different animals, and all vines and moss were removed from the swamp-green statues until the marble underneath shone in the sun. She had no idea they were supposed to be white. They were positioned as markers along the walls of flowers and bushes to guide patrons as they navigated the refurbished labyrinth.

  She had not made it so far as the Grand Ball Room, where the gala was to be held, but she could imagine from the considerable improvements on the rest of the fortress what extravagance she would find there.

  Few people came to visit her, and finding herself to be a nuisance in her state, she kept to her chambers and watched the transformation of the courtyard below, looking on while servants worked themselves into nervous bundles of knots. She had not seen Ursa since the countess appeared. Her father and sister had not stopped by either, but the latter did not surprise her as much as the former. Gabriel dropped in a handful of times to inquire about her health, but within minutes he would become tongue-tied, clam up, and abandon the room as quickly as he had entered.

  Lian sighed from her perch on the window seat and gazed over the garden into the black expanse of Dreaka’s Forest, beyond the dreary, graying hills. If she squinted, she could barely see the faint glimmer of the leaves, their veins lined with metallic hues of red and gold.

  According to legend, there was a war between the gods, said to have occurred at the dawn of the Age of Stars, the darkest era in Eresean history. The gods spilled their blood on the forest, cursing its leaves and slowly draining the forest of its life essence. Dreaka, not wanting to see any living creature suffer, lent some of Her own essence, the power of life and light, to the forest. She healed it, though the mark of the battle had already stained the leaves; red for the gods’ blood, gold for Dreaka’s benevolence. At night, the veins glowed, not as bright as the moon but enough to give it a ghostly aura. Priests said it was Dreaka’s light, Her mark that the woods were Hers, while scientists claimed the plants somehow trapped the light of day within their veins, appearing to glow at night.

  There were different stories surrounding the woods. The one thread they had in common was that the forest was sacred, said to be a favored haunt of Dreaka, Queen of the gods. Travelers often claimed to have glimpsed Her between the trees or by the river, shining with all the light of the world. These tales were usually accompanied by rumors of strange, otherworldly creatures that inhabited the woods, made from the very essence of the forest itself. Maidens with bark for skin, men who could turn into water; there was something new every week, it seemed.

  No doubt exaggerated by an overzealous merchant looking to drive home a sale.

  She never placed much stock in the stories. Though she had never set foot in the forest, she had never seen anything to suggest something extraordinary was happening there. Though it might sport some unusual vegetation, she had always assumed it to be a quirk of the land, perhaps a side effect from the lack of sunshine. After all, the plants had to survive somehow. Why not trap sunlight? It seemed like a perfectly logical explanation for their appearance at night.

  Her thoughts drifted back to the present. She watched gardeners fuss o
ver flower beds, making the garden look less regal and more cluttered, while attendants swept the walkways. After a moment, they began to blur out as her mind once again wandered.

  There was hardly a moment spent where she didn’t brood over something. So many things had happened recently, and she had lost count of the hours she spent trying to decipher what it all meant, if it meant anything at all. Sometimes, she wasn’t entirely convinced it all had not been a dream. She was healing too fast, first from Orris’ bruises, and now a miraculous recovery from what had appeared to be a near fatal illness. Though she was relieved, it bothered her at the same time. The mask she carefully hid her emotions behind felt cracked, leaving her feeling oddly exposed and vulnerable, prodded on by a persistent stomachache that refused to go away. She hated it, hated feeling like she wasn’t in control of herself.

  She also never had nightmares before now. For that matter, she never really dreamed, at least from what she could remember the next morning.

  Until that necklace showed up.

  She absently piddled with the crystal dangling between the folds of her gray blouse. No one had claimed it, but then again Lian hadn’t advertised its whereabouts either. Somewhere along the way, she had decided to keep it. But if it hadn’t been lost, then where had it come from?

  And those dreams. Was it all in her head the entire time? They had seemed so real. She remembered the velvet petals of the yeullis, could feel the feather as she twirled it between her fingertips.

  But I was awake when I saw the feather. The yeullis, the voice, might have just been a bizarre dream, but that…

  The healer had said the feather was a side effect of the illness, some sort of virus she must have contracted while in the Market that made her hallucinate. Or perhaps it was a mirage. She knew the desert people saw them quite often: fountains on top of sand dunes, birds that were actually scorpions, beautiful women who were no more than the bones of some lost soul. It marginally made her feel better, though she wondered why more people hadn’t reported suffering from a similar state.