Chosen

by Jolea M. Harrison

  For several excruciating moments it didn’t seem like anything changed at all, except for several indicators plummeting. Shalis buried her face more and Ambrose couldn’t help the sharp intake of breath. Geneal started giving Dynan injections.

  “It’s a stimulant,” she said tensely and her teeth clenched together. “Come on. I know you can do this.”

  The little blips on the monitor changed to larger blips and then everything started to climb upward. Geneal started waving them all over.

  “Talk to him,” she said. “It’s working, Your Majesty. His heart is beating. There’s good lung function. He’s waking up. Talk to him.”

  Her eyes lifted to the door and Ambrose saw for a second the two Governors standing there with Alse in front. “Is he dying?” the Governor asked and thought to come in, but Melgan was there too, with a hand flat into his chest.

  “No, Governor,” Geneal said and moved out of the way so Ambrose could reach Dynan’s side. “He most certainly is not.”

  The sound of running came and Roth shoved by Governor Alse to get into the room. “We found Dain.”

  ~*~

  Chapter 24

  The day outside was bright and inviting. Off in the distance, clouds obscured the jagged peaks of the Tarameik Mountains. Dynan looked through the viewscreen attached to the wall of his study at the pristine view, glancing up from the parchment he was trying to finish writing on Alurn Telaerin’s rule of the Kingdom, his fingertips covered in black ink. No one wrote like this anymore, but for this project, it seemed appropriate.

  As he dipped the pen into the ink well, Dynan wondered what Polen Forb would think of his conclusions and then didn’t know where the thought came from or the ensuing headache. He’d already spent too many weeks trying to sort it out, to no avail. None of his questions had answers. Dynan didn’t know anything, except to know he didn’t remember what happened.

  Dain’s memory was worse. Dain remembered meeting Bronwyn Esrel and nothing else. Dynan was afraid to explain the extent of their relationship because of the pain he knew it would cause. Maybe it was better, since she was gone. Dain’s injuries were less severe but he was in more pain. He hardly had the strength to stay out of bed more than a few hours. He was sleeping now.

  Dynan looked down through the opening of his shirt at the scar, a spidery, many-fingered thing that covered the left side of his chest. Everyone said it was a miracle he was alive. Dynan didn’t remember getting stabbed. When he thought about it, or tried to, the near constant pain in his head rose to a pitch that sent him back into bed or sometimes onto the floor.

  He knew something drastic had happened to them both. He knew the information they were given about it was carefully monitored. Their friends were told not to talk about it and they didn’t.

  Dynan set the engle pen down and decided he’d done enough. The only constant in his life was the amount of class work he was required to do. He’d been given extra time, considering he’d only been out of bed for the last two weeks out of almost two months of it, but it was still expected.

  He looked at the viewscreen again, feeling the call to go to those mountaintops. He knew the meadow he kept seeing in his sleep, and in almost every waking hour now. He’d been there before, but now there was a sense that it was a different time. Dynan knew he had to go back and find something. He had no idea what.

  He rolled the pages of parchment together after they dried enough and tied it up with a piece of string. He took the package to the door and thought for a second to attempt the delivery himself, but the guards stationed there, Ralion Blaise and Sheed Lasser, wouldn’t let him. They told him they would see that Master Cribe received the report.

  “Is my father in?” Dynan asked, nodding across the hall to the King’s door.

  “No,” Ralion said. “He’ll be up in a few hours.”

  “Dinner?”

  “Formal,” Ralion said. “He’ll have a few minutes.”

  “I don’t know that I’ll be awake for it,” he said, and kept the rest to himself. Ambrose was as unavailable as ever. Another constant Dynan could have done without.

  “I’ll tell him,” Ralion said and closed the door for him.

  Dynan made a decision then, a rash and possibly dangerous one. He was tired of waiting and wanted to do something, anything to get rid of the nagging sensation of unfinished business that sometimes kept him awake at night. He went back to his room, and changed into warm clothes. At the last minute he strapped his sword on – he was going out by himself without a guard after all and the last time...

  He didn’t want to continue the thought, but it came in anyway. The last time, his guard had died. Images flashed through his mind, coming to him in chewed up bits; Colin Fryn pulling him into an alley and then staring into the dark with lifeless eyes.

  Despite his culpability in the death of his guard – and Dynan knew he was responsible – he couldn’t remember it, but he knew it – the pull of finding whatever this lost thing was irresistible. He had to go.

  Dynan told himself nothing would happen this time. He wasn’t leaving the Palace grounds. It would be all right, but he kept the sword anyway.

  The ceiling panel was less easily reached. The strength he needed to hoist himself up into the eaves wasn’t there. He ended up half jumping, half pulling, and half using the wall for leverage to get up there. He ended up knocking over the chair and leaving a mark on the paint. After all that noise, he slid the panel back in place, hoping Regan and Lors wouldn’t report him missing too soon.

  Getting the rest of the way outside left him winded and cold in a snow bank. Winter kept its grip on the Palace and the mountains even though they were closer to spring. Dynan didn’t turn back, trudging through the piled up mounds to reach the barn. It was situated off in the far corner of the grounds with rolling, snow-covered fields behind it.

  The barn was warm. The horses were in and already had their exercise for the day. There were a lot of stable hands to manage the fifty horses the King owned. At this hour of day, they were all of them at lunch.

  Dynan found his horse, a giant Frielian stallion he’d gotten last year, snorting in his stall, prancing the moment Dynan reached the gate. His name was Galarin.

  Dynan maneuvered the bridle on, but couldn’t manage the weight of a saddle. He didn’t need one, despite that his father insisted on it. Galarin was as well trained an animal Dynan had ever owned. He retrieved a couple thick horse blankets, one for the animal and one for him that he wrapped up in underneath his cloak.

  It was fortunate that the large stable doors were on a keypad. Dynan questioned whether or not he’d have the stamina to make it all the way up into the mountain, but the moment the door was open, Galarin went through it out into the lane behind the barn. The stallion knew where they were going and headed off at a light cantor.

  They came to the patch of woods behind the Palace, trotting along the main trail that someone kept clear of snow so that the King’s children might not kill themselves riding in the winter.

  Dynan pulled back on the reins on the other side, standing on the edge of the wood line, listening. He thought he heard something, another horse maybe, and was afraid someone was following him, a guard probably, following the trail.

  He kicked the horse into motion and he carried Dynan up beyond the second patch of woods, through the gorge between two humps of mountain, by the drop that would kill them both, closing on the meadow an hour later.

  Dain tried to reach him. Dynan managed not to answer and not to give away any indication of where he was. It helped that Dain wasn’t trying too hard since a ship could still reach Dynan in very little time and stop the whole expedition.

  Dain tried again just a few minutes later. Dynan could easily imagine his brother being told to use the ability his father constantly told them not to.

  “I’m aware of the irony,” Dain said. “Where the hell are you? Have you lost your mind? Do you have any idea the state of panic you just threw the whole go
vernment into?”

  Dynan tried not to let Dain see anything but it wasn’t possible.

  “You’re riding? Riding a horse? What the—”

  “I wanted to get out of the Palace for a few hours. I’m fine. I’m just out in the rink.”

  “He’s riding. I don’t know why,” Dain said to their father. “You’ve had him cooped up in here for months is why. Where are you?”

  “I already said—”

  “You’re not in the rink. He’ll know that in a matter of minutes. Where-are-you? Dynan, he’s losing it. This isn’t funny.”

  “I’m going to find something, Dain.”

  “Find something? Find what?”

  “I don’t know, but I have to, so I’m not telling you where I am.”

  “I know he’s not in the rink,” Dain said. Dynan could almost hear their father raving at him. “He won’t tell me. It’s not like I’m a comterm.”

  “I’ll tell you about it later,” Dynan said.

  “You better not push me out. I’m not kidding.”

  “Bye.”

  It took more energy than Dynan thought he had to keep Dain from getting back in his head. After the first two tries though, Dain quit. Dynan could always count on him for diversion. Dain would stall their father and take the grief for it, leaving Dynan to take the punishment that was sure to come later.

  It worked long enough. Dynan reached the meadow that lay between two tall cliffs, past the ruins and the still gaping hole. He remembered falling, but not much else. He paused at that, thinking about the days before falling. He remembered the pod crash clearly enough.

  He wondered what had happened down in that hole, but knew he wouldn’t try to find out. Tomorrow maybe. Not today. He nudged the horse and kept going.

  A series of caves dotted the left face of the cliffs. Some were at ground level, beyond a scraggly line of bent trees. He and Dain used to come up here in the spring and summer to hunt or ride. Originally, their father had shown them the way when they were barely ten.

  Dynan led Galarin into the largest of the caves. There he found feed supplies and water from a spring that bubbled up near the back. He found a lamp on a shelf near the entrance where it could charge in the light.

  After the horse was settled, he headed back out, trudging through waist-deep snow, looking for some sign that would tell him what this was about. There was nothing. Further into the gorge a fall of rock cut across his path. It looked as though someone had taken a handful of the cliff, crumpled it and thrown it down in a fit of anger. It had always been there for as long as he’d been coming to this meadow.

  The boulders from the slide were strewn into the meadow and over time had turned into mounds covered in grass in the spring, or shrouded as they were now by the snow. The stones were rounded for the most part, but there were a few with sharp edges and corners. Cut, the thought came.

  In a flash of thought Dynan saw a great, carved entrance delving deep into the mountain and when he looked down from the place it would have been, he saw an opening in the jumble of rock.

  An entrance was formed against the cliff face tall enough for him to go in without stooping. He was about to enter when he heard a horse nickering, letting him know he wasn’t alone.

  Standing behind the massive pile up of boulders kept him from seeing who was coming, but he heard them, knew their voices and realized the instant before she rounded the corner what had happened.

  “You are going to be in so much trouble,” Shalis said as she tumbled through the snow over the rocks, looking like a little ball of fur she was so wrapped up in cloaks and coats. Liselle Tremault came right behind her, looking exquisite.

  Dynan remembered her. He’d woken to find her in his room a couple of times in the middle of the night, watching over him, she said, at the request of his little sister. He found he didn’t mind that at all.

  “What are you doing here?” Dynan said. Shalis must have seen him in the woods and as usual, persuaded her keeper to come along. Or maybe it was the other way around. Liselle seemed just as worried, though she wasn’t ranting at him like a little lunatic.

  “What am I doing here?” Shalis said. “What are you doing here? You don’t even have a guard. You’re going to get yourself killed for certain.”

  Dynan saw that she was really upset with him, afraid for him, but Liselle answered before he could. “Shalis, no such thing is going to happen. We’re still on Palace grounds even up here in the mountains and the place is patrolled. There isn’t any danger here, except maybe from the cold.”

  “I told Poppe where we are,” Shalis said, folding her arms. “He’s already on his way.”

  “Dynan, is Shalis with you?” Dain asked him then, getting in without trying hard. Concentrating to keep him out required too much effort and energy Dynan didn’t have.

  “Yes.”

  “We’re on our way down to a transfer, so we’ll be there pretty soon. I don’t know what you’re doing, but you better do it quick.”

  “Right. Thanks.”

  “Know what this is about yet?”

  “No, but I’m about to find out. Tell him there’s a passage up here and I think it’s going to lead to a Temple.”

  “He’s going to yell at me again,” Dain said. “Yep. He says you better not go in it, and if you don’t listen to him, you’re never going to see sunlight again. He’s just going on. They’re all coming with us you know. And the new guards too. These guys are not happy with you at all.”

  “It’s all right. I’m going anyway.”

  “You’re an idiot.”

  Dynan ignored him and Shalis, who was still yelling at him and saw what he intended just before he ducked into the opening. He encountered a series of open pockets of space left by boulders jammed on top of one another. He held up his light and saw cut stone behind the pile up. He hesitated for a second since the boulders weren’t really supported by anything other than chance. There was a possibility they could fall.

  Shalis and Liselle followed him, clambering over the rocks, some of them double height and too much for Shalis to manage without help. Dynan saw she wasn’t going to be deterred, and gave her a hand. She kept up a steady stream of complaints about his lack of intelligence, sounding word for word like Dain.

  “Keep your voice down,” Dynan said to her. “It’s been a long time since anyone has come in here, little girl. I need to be able to hear in case one of these rocks decides to come loose.”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “Shhhh.”

  The pile up of stones ended after one last narrow arch they all had to squeeze through. The room they came into was so large the small light Dynan carried hardly cut the darkness. They were tiny specks in a great cavern.

  “Who made this?” Liselle asked, standing close enough to him to stay in the light and kept Shalis with her.

  “I don’t know.”

  “You knew to find it though.”

  “I’ve been here before,” he said and pain started behind his eyes the way it always did when memory tried to come in. He knew it was there somewhere, but he also knew trying to bring it back would land him on the floor.

  The wall on the right disappeared into another vast opening and Dynan knew they’d reached the stairs. Again the light did nothing to cut through the inky darkness. Five stairs showed in the weak beam and then another step and another for each they went down.

  “What do you suppose is down there?” Shalis asked, hugging his arm. She had a grip on his hand that was almost painful.

  “It’s a tomb, Shalis,” he said. It was the first thing that came into his head, but before they could ask, he shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “It’s so cold,” Liselle said, her breath rising above her head until it was lost in the dark.

  “Do you have a light?” Dynan asked Liselle, but guessed she would have had it out already. “Here, take this one. I have a laser cutter. Better than nothing. I think you both should stay here. It’s a lot of
stairs.”

  “No,” Shalis said before he was finished. “No,” she said again when he thought to argue with her. “I’m not staying here without you. I’m not afraid of a tomb. How do you know what it is anyway? You’ve never been here before. I know you haven’t.”

  “I think I died, Shalis,” he said and his voice echoed in the hollow spaces. “I think I came here. I’m certain of it. I’ve seen it before.”

  “Why do you want to go back?”

  “There’s something I have to find.”

  Liselle looked back over her shoulder. “Well the sooner we start down, the sooner we’ll find it.”

  “Is that the transfer?” Shalis asked, letting Dynan go. She started down the steps one after the other until she was at the edge of the light. “Come on already or Poppe will come and stop you.”

  “It hasn’t been long enough. Be careful, Shalis. If you get hurt, Pop will kill me. How do you keep up with her?” he asked Liselle, and started down with her. She replaced Shalis with the handholding. Dynan realized she was shaking a little.

  “I just follow her around,” she said.

  “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

  “I’m not staying here by myself.”

  Liselle held up the light, and nodded him on. Dynan took out the laser cutter and turned it on, pressing the controls to maximum. The glowing kem-long blade gave them a little more light to see with, but barely. He had to be careful with it too, since it would cut through anything it touched.

  Shalis stayed a few steps ahead all the way down. It was less than it seemed, but far enough. Dynan was winded by the time they reached the bottom and found the great doors closed.

  As the lights they carried lowered to floor level and filled the broad space, they saw a man sitting in the far corner, wrapped in a heavy cloak with a hood pulled over his head. Liselle gasped when Dynan killed the laser-blade-light, drew his sword, and reached down to snatch Shalis back a step.

  “Who is that?” she asked, her voice echoing up the steps.