Well of Tears (Empath Book 3)

by Dawn Peers

Quinn tugged at Neyv’s sleeve, setting back in a run to Sammah’s apartments before she could change her mind. It didn’t feel safe, taking Neyv with her. Their reward though, was immense: if they succeeded, they would never have to see these depressing grey corridors, nor obey their grease-slicked power-hungry father ever again.

  Up ahead, the door to Sammah’s antechamber was already open. Quinn ran through it first, and she could hear the patter of Neyv’s feet behind her. Before she skidded into the main chamber she could hear the clash of steel against steel. Quinn held out both of her arms, feeling Neyv slam into her back. The girl was slight, so Quinn only slightly rocked on her feet, her outspread arms keeping her balance steady.

  Quinn tried to arch her neck around the door to see what was happening. An arm snaked through the open doorway, yanking her into the room. Quinn heard Neyv’s yelp, and cried out herself as Sammah’s face, his mouth creased in a bloody smile, swam into view.

  “Just in time, my daughter.”

  The last they’d been in this room all together, Neyv had been the manipulator, and Sammah had ended their conversation with Quinn on her eyes, bleeding and in agony. This time, the game again appeared to be stacked in Sammah’s favour. Shiver was in the corner. Elias held a bloodied sword, but the king’s eyes were open. They were wide in shock, his breathing was heavy, but he was alive—for now.

  “Stop this Sammah! You’ve lost!”

  Sammah roared with laughter. “Lost? The king is about to die and you two have come back to me, yet again. When are you going to learn, that as long as you are in the same room together, you can never win against me? All I have to do is play you against each other, Quinn. You are useless. You cannot resist her, and she cannot stop herself. She’s just like you were, before you could hold in your empathic abilities. Everything I tell you is the truth. Your submission is inevitable.”

  Shiver’s eyes rolled around in his head. The words weren’t aimed at him—shouldn’t be affecting him as badly. They were affecting Quinn, though. The pressure returned to her ears. She closed her eyes tightly. “Stop it. It’s not true. We can beat you. We can work with each other, Sammah. We know what you are. She knows what you are.”

  Sammah affected a hurt voice. “Neyv, have you been listening to lies? What have I told you, about other people? They never tell you the truth, dear heart. Come on. I’ve nearly won, now. Come to me.”

  Neyv glanced at Quinn, and trotted to Sammah, who dropped to a squat and held out his hands.

  “Don’t Neyv. Don’t you trust him!”

  Neyv glanced at Quinn, then back to Sammah. “What are we going to do now?”

  “Well, we don’t need Quinn to convince the king of any truths now. What do you think we should do?”

  “If you don’t need Quinn,” Neyv stopped walking, hesitating. “Then why do you need me?”

  Sammah grinned, and Quinn could see how forced it was. Sammah never grinned to look amenable. “I’ll always need you, Neyv.”

  “We talked about this Neyv. You can’t trust him.”

  “But I can trust you?”

  Quinn nodded. “Yes. Come on, get behind me.”

  Neyv took a few backwards steps. Sammah, faster than Quinn could ever credit him for, thrust a hand to his waist and pulled out a nasty curved blade. He closed the distance between him and Neyv with a few steps, slashing wildly at the little girl. Neyv darted back more through instinct than skill, barely avoiding the swing. Elias saw the action of his master and joined with his own sword.

  Quinn screamed in protest and pushed at Elias. Here was a man she felt passionately about. At every turn, in every negative part of her life, Elias had been there. Elias, Sammah’s right-hand-man. Elias, the silent killer. Elias, a man that had murdered children and relished his role as Quinn’s tormentor.

  Elias. A man who Quinn wanted to die.

  The mercenary had barely lifted his sword before Quinn’s mental weapon hit him. Elias dropped his sword in shock. His eyes opened wide. Quinn piled her malice into him. Every single time the man had hit her, dragged her, made her cry, and done Sammah’s bidding. Everything he’d done wordlessly in the name of his cruel master was concentrated into Quinn’s mental dagger.

  Quinn had believed that, if she’d stayed awake for longer, either time, she would have killed Rowan. The first time she’d attacked Rowan, she’d overwhelmed herself. The second time, Eden had knocked her unconscious. This time, Sammah was distracted by Neyv; Shiver was slumped on the floor useless. There was no one standing between Quinn and Elias, no one this time who could prevent her from crushing him with her ability.

  His mind was pliant, just like the mercenary on the ship. Impressionable, open to whatever she was giving him, perhaps that was what made them such obedient workers. It was all the same to Quinn. Elias’s mind was an open book, and Quinn was filling those pages with blackened hatred. His mouth worked open and closed rapidly as panic set in. Blood ran from the side of the mouth. He clutched at his throat and pawed at his eyes. It was all happening so quickly; he had no idea what was killing him. There was nothing physical for Elias to fight. He couldn’t see to walk. Elias collapsed to his knees and tried to crawl towards Quinn. She stepped to one side, so he simply didn’t know where she’d be. She didn’t relent. She wanted to crush him. She imagined opening up his skull, using her hands to squash the soft grey matter underneath. At this, Elias crumpled. His body began to spasm. Quinn dropped her attention. Elias was gone.

  “Quinn!”

  Neyv was across the other side of the room now, Sammah chasing her with his knife still drawn.

  “Run all you want. You’re both going to die. Neither of you can affect me. You know it, so just give up now.”

  Quinn had the momentum now. She’d tried to attack Sammah before and failed. That had been days ago, though for the way she felt now, it might as well have been a lifetime. Neyv had tried to kill her and failed. Quinn could have responded in kind, and Sammah might have even wanted that. Quinn had risen above his desires, though, and had instead won Neyv’s trust and allegiance.

  She wouldn’t let Sammah kill the girl now. If Quinn had summoned enough spite to kill Elias within seconds, it was well within her capability to find the power to bring down this despicable man.

  Her earliest memory of Sammah wasn’t in Yender. Quinn could barely remember the town of her apparent birth. What she first remembered about this man, was him striking her. Their first memorable interaction had been Sammah enforcing his authority on her, and from that point onwards, that’s what her life had been like.

  “Sammah, leave her alone!”

  Sammah turned to her sneering. “You’ll get your turn, girl.”

  The way he said it, the leering dismissive tone, reminded her at once of Tarik and Pax rolled into one spiteful creature. Tarik was one of the men that she had met representing the good, thoughtful side of Sha’sek. Pax was none of those things, ranking highly amongst the men that Quinn never wanted to see again. Shiver groaned in the corner. He was crawling over towards Elias. Quinn spotted the blade at the man’s side. Shiver was going for that. To help them? Regardless, the king was too weak to contribute. He might have been the one that wanted to kill Sammah—to wield the final blow and claim the victory for his people. Quinn wouldn’t let him do that. His people had to know that Sha’sek could deal with their own—that they weren’t a threat to everyone. That they could be reasonable people. That empaths were not a source of conflict.

  “I told you to leave her!”

  Sammah snarled at her. Quinn was yanking his attention away from Neyv. Good. Quinn was more of a threat to him—had more of a chance at defending herself. Sammah still had the blade in his hand, though. Quinn had forgotten he was armed. She should have picked up Elias’ sword. Sammah lunged for her. Quinn danced back, nimble on her feet and far faster than the obese baron. The sword wasn’t far away. She’d have to fight Shiver for it, if she didn’t hurry up. Quinn dove, her hand wrapping around the hilt just as Shiver
got there. He moaned in frustration, though he was still far too weak to do anything about. Quinn snatched the blade away, whirling it around blindly in the air. By sheer luck it caught Sammah’s knife. The sword, massively oversized, spun out of the baron’s hands. He gasped, not expecting the blow, and backed away from Quinn waving both of his hands. Quinn got to her knees, then to her feet, stalking Sammah down like a hunter with its prey already cornered.

  And he was. She had Sammah right where she wanted him.

  “You don’t want to do this, Quinn.”

  “Why not?”

  Sammah glanced at Neyv, who still clutched the edge of the far side of the table. “I’m your father. I’m the only one that understood you. I’m the only one that can help you, Quinn. I know who your father is—what you can be. If you kill me, you’ll lose everything.”

  After her victory against Elias, Quinn had felt like the last piece of her ability had unlocked. The last shackle around her had slid to the floor. She was herself now, in her totality. Sammah’s attempt to warp her now was pitiful. It had almost no effect. Quinn laughed. Even to her own ears the noise sounded hollow.

  “You never knew me. You never cared.”

  “I didn’t need to care to know, Quinn. I studied. We all studied you. Only I can help you grow.”

  Quinn looked him up and down. Without his bodyguards, without someone else’s abilities to lean behind, the man was pathetic. He was overweight, greasy, with bloodshot eyes and disgustingly smooth skin. He was a manipulator, despised even by his own people. The world would be a better place, without Sammah in it. “I’ll take my chances on my own.”

  Quinn drove the sword forward in a two-handed thrust. Sammah did not wear armour. There was a minute moment of resistance as the point pierced his skin, until the pressure told, and the metal slid in through his gut. Sammah’s mouth gaped open. A sliver of blood oozed from his mouth.

  Quinn had expected to defeat her father with her mind. It was more satisfying to see it—to feel it. To know, physically, what it felt like to finally rid herself of this man. She did it on her own terms—not the way Sammah would have wanted her to kill him.

  “Quinn…” Sammah’s eyes slid to the left. His pupils dilated. “Neyv.”

  He dropped forward, the sword still in his chest making him flop to one side.

  It was over—done. Sammah was dead.

  Quinn looked over to Neyv, a grin of triumph spreading over her face. The grin was wiped off quickly. Neyv looked across at Quinn in shock. Shiver was kneeling before the girl. Sammah’s curved blade stood out of her neck.

  29

  Eden opened his eyes, fully this time. The last time he’d been awake, Quinn had been here. She’d said something to him…what had it been? Sammah? They were going after Sammah? Eden stumbled to his feet. He felt groggy, but fine. What had happened to him? That girl. The gifted that had been behind Sammah’s control of the throne. He had been trying to make Eden kill Quinn. He had resisted, though. He had managed to win out. Eden was relieved. His love for Quinn had cushioned him, he was sure of it. If he’d loved Quinn any less—hated any part of her, her was sure that’d he’d have given in.

  What if he’d woken up with Quinn’s bloody body at his feet?

  Eden shuddered, trying to get that image out of his mind. That hadn’t happened—time to move on. He had to get to them. Where would they have gone? Where would Sammah have fled?

  He couldn’t escape. Harn and the rest of their men would be guarding the only other route out of Everfell. That meant he had to climb.

  Eden tested his feet. His legs seemed strong. His mind was already clearing. He wasn’t physically wounded. He jumped up and down a few times. He could run. Eden sensed that he needed to run. Fast.

  He got lost in a couple of the corridors, but it didn’t take him long to track back. The abandoned corridors were easy to negotiate, unlike the first time he’d had to throw himself around this place. Sammah’s suites were open, which was the first gut punch. The second, was the bloody scene he saw when he finally got into the room proper.

  Elias was on the floor, face-down. He was dead. Eden didn’t even need to check. No one lay like that who was alive. Sammah was dead. A blade stuck clear out from his gut. Blood was soaking into the carpets. The strike hadn’t been long before, biting deep. No one could survive a wound like that.

  So it was over, Sammah was dead.

  That left his father, and Quinn. And a little girl. Quinn was screaming. No, she was wailing. Screams were a noise of anger. What came from Quinn now was pure grief. She was cradling a little girl’s body and covered in blood. His father, for his part, was sitting on his backside in the middle of the room. His body, too, was bloody. His eyes were wide.

  “What happened?”

  Shiver was muttering. Eden got closer to him. He couldn’t hear the words initially over Quinn’s noise. Eden got closer. Shiver didn’t even react to his son. Eden’s ear was almost at his father’s mouth before he could hear it.

  “What have I done? What have I done?”

  His father was repeating the mantra over and over. What had he done? He looked wounded. Eden patted around, parting his clothes. There was a slash around his midriff. It was not a fatal strike—it wasn’t even dangerous, and would be fine once Eden got him to a healer and cleaned the wound. Eden went to Quinn, then. If his father was safe, it was clear that Quinn needed him more now.

  Quinn had lowered the girl’s body to the ground. She was still alive, somehow, but a Sha’sekian knife stuck clear out of her neck. If he took the blade out, she would die almost instantly. Eden felt like pulling it would be a kindness—the little girl must be in agony.

  “Quinn.” Eden put a hand on her shoulder. Quinn lashed out at him.

  “Your father did this!”

  Eden rocked on the balls of his feet. He wasn’t surprised. Shiver hated the gifted. This girl was one of them. Eden looked down at her. It didn’t matter what she had been—this was still a child. She was like Quinn—one of Sammah’s. How much of this was her fault? Eden doubted that she’d deserved to die. He couldn’t help his tears, dashing them away with his fingers.

  “She’s going to die, Quinn. You have to let her go.”

  “I can’t! We have to help her!”

  “She’s beyond anyone’s help Quinn. Not even Maertn could save her.”

  “Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare use any of their names!” Quinn beat her fists against his chest. Eden let her. He preferred her to get her anger out that way—he had seen Quinn unleash her fury in much more fatal ways. She had to concentrate on him. If his father had done this, then if Quinn remembered his father was in the room, Shiver was a dead man.

  Neyv coughed. She tried to talk. Little bubbles of blood burst on her tiny lips. Quinn crushed the girls hands in her own, sobs wracking her chest.

  “I’m so sorry Neyv. I’ve let you down.”

  Neyv shook her head, and smiled. Then, she was gone.

  “It’s my fault. I convinced her to help me. I let her come up here.”

  “It was her choice, Quinn.”

  “She was too young to make a choice!”

  “That’s what Sammah always told you, Quinn. Did you ask her?”

  Quinn sniffed. “Yes.”

  “What did she choose?”

  “She wanted to help.”

  “Then she’s died doing something she wanted to do. For the first time in her life, she was free.”

  “She didn’t have to die. Your father murdered her. She did nothing to him!”

  Quinn glanced at Shiver, and Eden got quickly in her line of sight. “No Quinn, don’t. If you take his life…”

  “But he murdered her, Eden!”

  “And you’ll be murdering him! The only difference is you’ll be starting a war!”

  “Because he’s a king? So he can murder my people and get away with it? Because Neyv was nobody? It doesn’t justify it, Eden!”

  Eden was sick with shame. She was
right. Everything Quinn had ever said, about everything his father wanted to do, was right. He grasped her wrists, trying not to hurt her, trying to reason with her.

  “It doesn’t make it right, Quinn. I just don’t want you to be the one that gives him the excuse. We don’t want another Empath War, Quinn.”

  “There’s going to be a war.”

  The two of them twisted around to Shiver. The man’s face was still blank, but he shifted his eyes to them anyway. They were distant, though his assertive voice did not match that blank stare. “It doesn’t matter what she does to me. We will fight. Pax wants Everfell. Even if…” his gaze drifted to Neyv. Eden hoped beyond hope that even his iron-skinned father was feeling some remorse at what he’d done to that girl. “Even if you aren’t all bad, Sha’sek and Everfell can never live together. We can never understand.”

  “Understand what, father?”

  “They’re not like us, Eden. They never were, and they never will be. How can we live together?”

  “I will show you how.”

  Eden pulled Quinn to her feet. She came without protest as he led her from the room. Eden wanted to get her away then, from Everfell, from Shiver, from the corpse of the girl and her father, and from everything that had represented Quinn’s life up until that point—everything except one thing.

  “What are you doing, Eden?”

  “I’m taking you away.”

  “You can’t. Your father is back there.”

  “He’s not my father anymore, Quinn.”

  At hearing those words, Quinn tugged back at him, forcing him to stop. “Eden, what do you mean?”

  “I can’t agree with what he’s done in there. I can’t agree with anything that man wants. He’ll kill you if you stay, you know? And he’s not going to end it here. You’re not safe here, Quinn. So we’re going.”

  “We?”

  Eden grabbed both of her hands. “Yes, we. Together. I love you, Quinn. I always have. I always thought that I needed to be Shiver’s son, because that’s what my family and peers demanded of me. I struggled to be the man he wanted me to be. The only person I never needed to pretend around, was you. Because you always saw me, Quinn. I couldn’t hide around you even if I had wanted to.”