Sahariel is standing so close that I'm afraid to breathe simply because doing so will make our bodies touch even more.
God, my heart is beating so loud. Can he hear it? I hope he can't, but he probably can. He can probably feel it trying to beat its freedom from my ribs.
I close my eyes and instinctively lean forward, resting my head on Sahariel, but he's so close that I barely have to move at all. After a few seconds I can feel myself relax. The smell of cold air and wood smoke sweeps off him and all I want to do is get as close to him as I can and wrap my arms around him. I nuzzle a little closer and Sahariel stiffens. My hands and arms act on their own and slowly creep up and inch around his waist, doing what I want to do, but doing it without me thinking about it. He doesn't stop me though, which makes me happy.
It feels like it could have been forever, but after some time, I feel his arms wrap themselves around me and his cheek rest against the top of my head. I'm not sure, but I think I also hear a small sigh breathe through him.
We stand there like that for a while even after we know the other men are gone. He sighs again and his hold loosens on me. But I don't budge. Although childish, I hold him tighter, not wanting to let go. I can hear the rumble of soft laughter in his chest and I feel a smile pull at the corner of my lips.
“Come on,” he whispers in my ear, “let's get out of here. We can look at your record book when we get back to your room.”
I reluctantly let go of him, clutch the book against my chest, and follow him from the room. We walk through the library, and the bookkeeper is back at his front desk. Before he can ask, I hide the book behind my back as we walk past and just nod at him, smiling at the expression on his face. I guess he didn't know anyone was in here.
Sahariel leads the way back through the castle as I try and keep the large, thick volume hidden somewhere on my person. It's too big though, so I have to settle for tucking it into my side and hoping no one asks what it is. Although if someone does ask I could just say it's none of their business.
We soon make it to my room and Sahariel pulls me in and closes the door. I walk over to the small table in the corner and sit down, feeling Sahariel trail me. I set the book down and crack it open, back to the page that is too new, and stare at it.
Who did this? And what the hell was the point?
Sahariel walks up behind me and places a hand on my shoulder.
“What are you thinking about?”
“I don't know,” I say, “I just can't figure out why someone would do something like this.”
“Didn't he say he was erased?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, chances are his family might have been taken out of the record books.” He says, “If it was long ago enough, then there is a strong chance that no one remembers him.”
“But wouldn't there be record in another book as well? I mean, from extended family or something?”
“I don't know, but we can always check,” he says, “but I don't suspect he will be coming back. He probably thinks that you're already dead.”
I cringe at the last words and he gives me a look of apology.
“But,” he says, “Unfortunately we have more pressing matters to attend to.”
“Yes,” I say, “I know. Unfortunately, I know.”
I sit there for a few seconds, not really sure what to do. I frown a little bit.
“So,” I say, “what now?”
“Well, now I guess since you're able to walk around, we should probably head to the war room.”
Together we walk to the war room. I guess he doesn't know that I delegated the task to Marius, but I don't say anything. We walk together there, and I smile as the room's volume stays the same as I watch Marius walk around the table. He looks up and smiles at me. I get the same tingly feeling, but I know it's only in friendship and I smile back.
I don't know the specifics of how Marius views our relationship, but I know he knows we're only friends. If I hadn't ever known Sahariel, Marius and I could have been something more. Sahariel has his hand on my lower back, letting me know he's still here. I feel that, with Sahariel, it was something like love at first sight. I guess knowing a man will protect you with his life, and will genuinely always stay with you regardless of orders, will perpetuate feelings of love. I smile to myself.
Sahariel takes a few small steps away from me, looking back to check with me to make sure I'm okay with it. I nod and wave him off, knowing he's extremely interested in what Marius has come up with.
I fidget for a moment. I'm bored knowing there's no reason for me to be in this room. Sahariel is extremely interested and so I make a quick decision to leave. I walk back to my room, surprised that I've managed to leave without Sahariel noticing, but I know he will be following me shortly. I slip into my room, close the door and walk over to my desk. I flip open the records book again and try to look at it a bit more closely.
I stare at the pages, not really knowing what it is, but something is bothering me, a lot. Every time I open the book, the pages fall open to the same spot. The ink, acting as its own time stamp, gleans up at me, laughing at me. Laughing at me like the fool I am for trying to figure it out. Still, I stare at the pages longer. Then I see what I've been looking for. There, at the base of the other pages, at the binding, I see it.
The pages, they've been torn out. Carefully, but still, they were torn out, and whatever was on those pages is lost, recopied and altered on the following pages.
I sigh and rub my temples momentarily. God dammit. Why couldn't anything be easy? Why did all of this have to come out all at once? This war, this man who's trying to kill me, all of it has come at the same time. I guess Murphy's Law does exist. If anything is going to go wrong, it will.
The door opens behind me and a rush of air waves against my back and a hand plants itself on my shoulder while the other grabs my hand from my temple and turns me around.
I open my eyes and Sahariel is glaring at me. I quirk an eyebrow at him wondering why he's glaring at me.
“You left without me,” he clarifies.
“Yeah,” I say, “but at least I didn't go wandering around the castle. I came straight back here.”
“That's not the point. You're not supposed to go wandering off without me, and you know that.”
“Ugh,” I groan, “fine.”
His fingers flip the book closed and I feel like that's the end of the conversation. I always had been so helpless when he's touching me, like he is now. Even the small, innocent touching, like his hand on my shoulder, causes me to agree with whatever he says, no matter the amount of vexation I feel.
“What's wrong?” He asks.
“How do you have this magical power over me?” I ask, “Like, no matter how I feel about something, you always manage to make me agree with you.”
“It's because I'm always right.”
“Hardly.”
“What? You disagree?”
“Usually.”
“No you don't.”
“Why do you say it like that?” I ask him.
“Because if you truly disagreed with me on something then you wouldn't actually agree with me,” he says, “I'm sorry to say it, Eden, but I've been around a lot longer than you, so unfortunately, I do know a lot more than you do.”
“How old are you again?” I joke.
He sighs.
“Okay, okay,” I say. “I'll leave it alone.”
“Now tell me why you left the meeting.”
“I left because I don't need to be there. I appointed Marius lead a while ago and he's been making the executive decisions for me. So far it hasn't backfired. And it seems the other strategists are finally listening to him.”
“That doesn't really explain why you left.”
“I got bored.”
He sighs, “Of course you did.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.”
“Who do you think those men where? The ones who were in the records
room?”
“I don't know.”
“They weren't supposed to be in there, right?”
“No, they weren't, and it's something I'm definitely going to be looking into.”
Chapter Twenty-nine
Weeks have gone by and most days I spend in the war room attempting to find a way to not be ambushed at every turn of events. Even after all my advisers have left, after Marius has stepped out and Sahariel slumps in a chair in the corner, I still stand and stare at the damn map in the middle of the room in an attempt to figure everything out.
I slump slightly and rest my forehead on the table, the tiny mountains digging into my flesh. I breathe out and the lakes ripple and the trees bow. I just don't know what to do anymore. Everything is so complicated. And for some reason I'm kicking myself for not having played the game Risk when I was younger, especially since, somehow, the enemy knows our moves, our weaknesses. All of which has caused the strategists to call me in. And on top of all of this, Sahariel and I still haven't been able to get back to the records room to check out the other books. My family record book is tucked away, safely pushed between my mattress and box spring of my bed.
“Dammit!” I scream and slam my fist down on the map. It shifts momentarily before returning to its natural state.
Sahariel jumps up from his seat, having fallen asleep and waking from the loud bang my fist made when it collided with the table.
“Are you alright?”
“I'm fine,” I say, “just a little frustrated.”
Sahariel walks up behind me, putting a hand on my lower back and makes light circular motions which almost immediately calm me.
“It's late; you really need to get to sleep.”
“I know. I just can't sleep well without figuring all of this stuff out.”
“Well standing here staring at the map and smacking it out of frustration isn't going to help the situation at all.” He says, “Come on. Let's get you to bed.”
He pulls me from the room, his hand gently clasping mine. My feet automatically follow him without my brain telling them to, which is a good thing since I'm too busy reeling over the sensations his touch is sending through my body. Before I know it, Sahariel has pulled me into my room and has us stopped right next to my bed. I look at it slightly dumbfounded, not realizing we got here so quickly, but then I'm embarrassed. I can feel my face flush and I hope he doesn't notice.
“Time for bed,” he says.
Sahariel pushes me back, forcing me to sit on the edge of my bed. I look up at him. I'm shocked. I don't know what to do, I don't know what he's doing, and my brain is running a million scenarios within seconds.
Sahariel looks down at my face and chuckles at the expression that I feel might stay there forever. He smiles at me and my heart pounds a little harder, which it somehow can do without breaking through my ribs. I feel him close in and my breathing hitches. He puts his lips to my forehead, placing a chaste kiss there. Then he pulls away.
“Goodnight,” he says to me as he walks from the room.
I blink at the closed door for a few minutes, not really sure what to do. I think I should go to bed, but I'm too dumbstruck to move. Finally, after regaining some control over my heavy limbs, I rub my face vigorously, change my clothes, pull back the covers and crawl into bed. I lie in the middle of my bed and stare at the ceiling. I feel my eyelids get heavy and soon I'm drifting off to a very light sleep.
Rain is hitting my window loudly, making my eyes flutter open after what feels like only moments after closing them. I stare outside, but it's still too early for the sun to be out. I sigh. I wish I had a clock so I could know what time it is. But it's pointless. Clocks don't work here. I sit up in bed, the covers sliding off of me as my feet hit the ground and I stand up. The only thing I can think of doing at this late of an hour is looking at my family’s record book. I kneel down and grab it. I take it over to my desk, light a candle and begin the same thing I had done before I went to sleep. Stare at it until it gives me answers.
Sighing, I flip through the pages and let my eyes skim over them. The last page hits the rest lightly and I frown. The spine cracks and I cringe as I look at the binding. I feel bad when I see that the binding is coming lose from the back cover, the paper curling off the back. I run my finger over it, hoping that maybe I can smooth it back down.
But it feels odd. The back cover binding feels bumpy, sort of lop sided. Amidst the hazy cloud of exhaustion, I begin to feel a little curious. My fingernails start to pry at the binding, slowly peeling it away from the back cover. And that's when it happens. A neatly folded piece of parchment slips from behind the record book's bindings and onto my desk.
I blink down at the paper.
I pick it up and gingerly unfold it. My fingers rub against a rough edge and it feels like it was torn. I stare down at the page, my eyes adjusting to the lighting and the faded ink on the torn page. My brain, muddled from lack of sleep, can't quite figure out what the hell I'm looking at. Then it dawns on me.
I run my fingers firmly down the creases in the paper, flattening it out the best that I can. I open the book, the pages automatically falling open to their normal spot. I press all my weight into the book, forcing it open even farther than it wants to, the glue in the spine cracking, the binding protesting. When I can finally see the remnants of a torn page in the spine of the book, I grab the piece of paper and I lay it in the book.
They match. Perfectly.
Is it really that simple? Did the person who ripped this page out simply tuck it back into the book for someone nosy enough to find? I stare down at the page, slipping it to the side so I can see what was changed.
My eyes dart back and forth a couple of times. The whole thing looks the same. But then my eye catches it. The one difference is a marriage. Or a lack thereof. Three names are missing: Sarai, Horem, and Illidan. But why would they be taken out. Am I seriously related to Illidan? Is he my – I try and figure out the connection in my head – some number cousin-in-law, some number removed?
Fingers trace the ties between us. My grandfather’s sister, Jora, married a man named Braden. Braden has two siblings, Malnor and Giana. Malnor married Daisy, who (by the name) I'm pretty sure is human, and they had three kids, Alexia, Matia and Sarai. Sarai marries Horem, and they have Illidan. But none of this explains why that little bit of my very extended family was removed.
I smack my face with my palm, wincing at the sting, and let my head hit the desk. I groan. I lean back in my chair, tilting the whole thing back so it sits on its back two legs. I let out a frustrated sigh.
“Eden?” A voice questions from the other side of the door, surprising me.
I jump, startled, and my arms flail. I lose my balance and soon I'm falling backward toward the floor. The ground emits a loud thump as I make contact, my head barely avoiding the floor. My breath leaves me with a loud oomph.
“Eden?”
I scramble up from the floor, snatch the paper off the desk and try and figure out what to do with it.
“Eden?!”
“Yeah?” I look around for a good hiding spot.
“Are you okay?”
I fold the piece of paper up hastily and cram it in the first place I can think of. I crawl under my desk and jam it between the front of the desk and a support beam. I manage to crawl out from under my desk in time to see the person from the other side of the door come rushing in.
Sahariel's eyes take in the scene. The tipped over chair and me still on the floor beside it looking frazzled.
“Didn't I tell you to go to sleep?”
“I did,” I say, “I just ended up waking up. I couldn't go back to sleep though.”
I sit there for a moment on the floor and Sahariel frowns down at me.
“Don't you ever go to sleep?”
I get up from the ground and right the chair. I don't know when he does it, but he manages to sleep at some point in the day when he isn't always right at my side. And even now he looks as if he's
managed to get a full nights rest. He is fully dressed in something completely different then what he was wearing before and doesn't even look like he's been rushed.
“I do,” he says.
“When?”
He shrugs, “I have to remain somewhat mysterious, don't I?”
“Not really.”
He chuckles and helps me stand all the way back up and makes me sit on the edge of my bed. His hands push down on my shoulders, making me sit, and then they move from there down to my legs. I suck in a breath as his fingers slowly, but methodically, move down my legs.
“Are you hurt anywhere?”
I shake my head, not sure if my voice is able to work. But I continue to watch, dumbfounded, as his fingers carefully play down my legs and his fingers wrap around my ankles lightly, testing them.
“Well,” he says after a moment, “it looks like you're still in one piece.”
I still don't trust my voice, especially with my heart lodged in the throat.
He smiles and pats my knee.
“Now get back to bed,” he says.
He looks at me once more before he opens the door, walks through it, and closes it behind himself.
Chapter Thirty
I haven't told Sahariel about the pages I found, and as I sit at my desk and watch him from the corner of my eye, I don't know if I should.
“Who do you think those men were?”
“Hmm?” Sahariel looks up from his book in the corner.
“Those men who were in the records room,” I say. “They weren't supposed to be there, and from the sound of their hushed tones, whatever they were up to didn't seem good. What else, aside from family records, are stored there?”
“It's the records room” he says, “property records, financial, you name it. Anything that can be recorded is, and it's put in that room.”
“Who writes the information down?”
“About 99% of the time no one. Magic records everything automatically, even things you wish weren't.”
Finding Eden Page 16