by Wendy Wang
******
Neala held Sorrel's hand and leaned against the table, resting her head in the crook of her elbow waiting for Sorrel to wake up. She kept going over the words in her head of how to tell Sorrel they would not be able to restore her voice, that she would always have this pain.
Sorrel's hand twitched squeezing against Neala's fingers. She looked up to find Sorrel with her eyes open. The girl scanned her surroundings and swallowed hard. Neala was on her feet and a few seconds.
“Hi,” Neala said. “Don't try to talk.” She called up a smile hoping it didn't look too fake.
“Hurts,” Sorrel mouthed. She brought her hand to her throat and gently touched the closed wound.
“I know.” Neala fidgeted with the edge of the blanket. “Things didn't go quite as expected.”
Sorrel's gaze shifted up towards the ceiling. A tear ran from her eye to her ear, disappearing into her dark hair.
“I'm so sorry, honey,” Neala said, touching Sorrel's shoulder. She hated how hollow those words sounded.
Sorrel cut her eyes towards Neala and croaked, “What happened?”
Neala's lips twitched. How could she tell her without reigniting her anger and hatred and sadness.
“Tell me,” Sorrel whispered harshly.
“Egan happened,” Neala said softly. “Evidently, when he cut your throat he focused his energy on making sure that if Tahlulah or Cilla tried to heal you they would end up killing you instead.”
“To punish me.” She swiped at the tears trailing into her hair.
“I'm so sorry.” Neala said.
Sorrel nodded and pushed up onto her elbows. Neala grabbed hold of her arm and helped her to sit upright. Gazing up at Neala, Sorrel’s dark eyes full of pleading, she whispered, “I want to go home. Can you please just take me home?”
Neala’s arms went around the girl, hugging her tight. “As soon as Trygg leaves, we’ll go home. I promise.”
Fifteen
“You sure you have everything you need?” Cilla leaned against the footboard of Trygg’s twin bed with her arm wrapped around the tall post. She watched him pack his bag.
Birgit had refused to help and had taken Tom and the children for a long walk on the beach. Downstairs the sounds of breakfast being made rattled through the house. The scent of cinnamon and Oglar squash and bacon wafted up the steps beckoning. Oglar squash bread was Trygg’s favorite.
“Yes.” He folded a pair of black pants in half and then rolled them up from the bottom before stuffing them into a blue canvas backpack.
“I still think it’s too soon,” Cilla said frowning.
“Well, tell that to your mother. She’s the one that cleared me,” he said.
Cilla sighed and scraped her finger over one of the ridges of the carved four-poster bed. “I wish you would ask the queen to at least send someone with you. Maybe she could assign another warden.”
He stopped packing and put his hands on his hips. Nothing on his face gave away his true feelings. Typical Water Kael. It made him a good spy. He cocked his head to one side. “You know I love you, Cousin. Always trying to take care of people. It’s a good way to be.” He said, his blue eyes serious. “I’ll be fine on my own.”
“Well, you better be Trygg Weller. I’m depending on you to come back. My boys need a man in their life now that — well, now that I’m alone. And you just got elected. You hear me?” She sounded half-hearted in her scolding but she meant what she said.
A smile played at the corner of his mouth and he shook his head. “I hear you, Cousin.”
“And you’re not to go across Bohr's territory. I swear to the goddess I will not heal you again.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He put his hand on her shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “And you are to stay away from Egan Crane.”
She opened her mouth to protest but then closed it knowing he was right. Egan was her weakness. She could make all the excuses in the world on behalf of her children but at the heart of it she was the one who wanted him. Or at least the idea of him. Her mouth twisted into a frown.
“Fine,” she said.
“Good.” He cupped her cheek. “You deserve better.”
She met his gaze and placed her hand over his pressing it against her skin. She wished she believed as he did. Who would love her now though? Taking care of two boys left her tired and careworn most of the time and then there was the stigma of loving a traitor.
“You should finish packing,” she said. “I’m going down now to make sure the boys aren't underfoot.”
“All right. I’ll be down in a bit.” He poked her in the side, just like when they were kids and she yelped with irritation.
“Hey!”
He chuckled. “And hopefully you’ll be smiling instead of frowning.”
Being around Trygg reduced her to her eleven-year-old self and she stuck her tongue out at him and left him to his packing.
******
Tom and Y'Ana leaned over the short square table in front of the couch in the parlor. They had almost used all of Sorrel’s paper and Neala owed her a sketchpad when they got home but it had been worth it. Drawing with them and reading stories to them had helped her make gains with the child. She might just be able to handle her on her own.
“Tom, Y'Ana,” Neala said. “It’s time to walk down to the beach and say goodbye to Trygg. Are you ready to go?”
“Sure,” Tom said dropping the piece of charcoal in his hand on the table.
Y'Ana stared up at her. The child’s expressionless face sent a chill crawling across her shoulders. The child’s mind had proved almost impenetrable. The only time thoughts escaped her head was when she slept and even then it was just a jumble of nightmares.
“Don’t you want to say goodbye to Trygg?” Neala asked. Y'Ana’s intense gaze bore into her. Her heart fluttered against her ribs. “Y'Ana?”
“Of course she does,” Tom said. “Don’t you?”
Y'Ana shifted her attention to Tom, a slight smile curving her lips. She nodded her head.
“Well come on then,” Tom said, holding out his hand for her.
Y'Ana dropped her charcoal, pushed herself to her feet and slipped her hand into Tom’s. Neala wasn’t sure what she was going to do without the boy or his mother. Their effect on the girl was almost magical. She wasn’t sure the child would ever warm to her the same way. No matter how many books they read together.
The three of them headed towards the front porch where the rest of the family waited.
“Trygg!” Y'Ana cried. He smiled down at her, and opened his arms. The child flung herself at him and he lifted her up, carrying her all the way to the beach. When he got close to the edge of the water he squatted to put her down, but she clung to him, her arms and legs wrapped tightly around his body. He stroked her hair and whispered things into her ear that Neala couldn’t hear. Finally, she nodded and peeled herself off of him. Her wide blue eyes were wavy with tears.
He hugged his mother first and she kissed him on the cheek. “Don’t you be gone so long this time.”
“I’ll be back as soon as I can. With Eryn.” He said.
Her jowls wobbled as she nodded her head. “Just see that you do.”
He cupped her cheek for a moment before moving on to his sister. Birgit almost stood eye to eye with him.
“Remember what we talked about,” Birgit said. “What you promised.”
“I will.” A half-grin stretched his lips. “You take care of mama.”
“I will.” She hugged him fast and hard making him grunt from the force of it.
Cilla and Tahlulah hugged him at the same time, flanking him on either side and wrapping an arm around his waist. He kissed Tahlulah’s temple first whispering something into her ear. She nodded, her eyes pensive. He kissed Cilla’s temple next, whispered something into her ear that made her laugh and poke him playfully in the side. He winced and touched his belly, laughing and grimacing at the same time.
Y'Ana sidled up next to Neal
a, her small hand gripping two of Neala’s fingers tightly. A sense of lightness bloomed inside her. Maybe she and the child really were connecting after all. She hoped so.
Trygg walked to the edge of the water, turned towards them, his eyes scanning each of their faces. He raised his hand and waved one last time, then in a swift move turned and dove into the calm sea, without a splash.
Y'Ana shrieked and took off towards the water. Neala ran for the child but Birgit made it to her first. She grabbed Y'Ana around the waist and picked her up just as the girl’s feet splashed into the water.
The child’s arms and feet flailed hitting and kicking and she gurgled unintelligibly.
“Stop it Y'Ana!” Birgit yelled. The back of Y'Ana’s fist struck Birgit’s nose and she dropped the child. Y'Ana’s face was red and pinched, tears wet her cheeks as she fell into the water with a splash.
“Trygg. Trygg. Trygg.” The little girl cried his name over and over again. The sky rumbled and a dark cloud formed.
Panic mushroomed inside Neala’s chest stopping her in her tracks. A twisting funnel reached down from the sky touching the water, drawing up the sea it spun towards Birgit. She turned and ran.
“Y'Ana! No!” Cilla screamed somewhere close by.
Neala didn’t understand exactly what she was seeing. How could the child be causing this? Even when she was a child with five affinities she had never been that powerful so young. At least not that she could remember.
“Birgit! No!” Neala called. She and Cilla reached the child just as the funnel cloud lifted Birgit into the air.
Neala squatted down and placed one hand on top of the water letting it flow over her fingers. She raised the other hand in the air. Calling on the energy of water and fire. Slowly she brought her hands together and the funnel cloud began to shrink.
Cilla took Y'Ana into her arms hugging her to her body, stroking her hair. She rocked the girl back and forth.
The funnel cloud dissipated, setting Birgit down as gently as possible into the water. Birgit glanced around wildly, blood streaming from her nose. She was soaked to the skin. Birgit’s mother and Tahlulah ran to her side, helping her to her feet. Birgit waved her aunt away when she tried to take a good look at the source of the blood.
Neala scooted towards Cilla and Y'Ana. She placed her hand on the girl’s back.
“Has she done this before?” Neala asked.
“Create a tornado?” Cilla said sounding defensive. “No.”
“No — has she lost control like this before?”
Cilla’s green eyes darkened. “Only once.”
“Cilla —” Neala said. “I don’t think I can handle her on my own.”
Cilla placed her hands over the girl’s ears and whispered harshly, “Are you saying you won’t take her?”
“No, of course not,” Neala said. “She’s my niece. But I think I’m going to need help at least in the beginning. Would you consider coming to the palace? Just until she’s settled.”
“I don’t know,” Cilla said. Her eyes cut to Tom on the beach standing with Sorrel and Danny.
“Of course Tom and Danny would be welcome and your mother too if you’d like. You are all more than welcome.” Neala said.
Cilla sat back on her heels, her hands gently stroking Y'Ana’s back. “Would I be able to see my husband?”
A cold finger touched Neala’s heart and she narrowed her eyes. “Yes, I suppose that could be arranged.”
“I would like for my sons to see him one more time before — well, before.” Cilla’s mouth drooped, her lips curving downward.
“All right.” Neala said softly. “I’ll make it happen.”
“Then, we’ll come and help you with Y'Ana’s transition.”
“Thank you,” Neala said holding out her hand to shake. Cilla swallowed hard, staring at Neala’s hand before finally taking it and shaking it.
******
Neala transported them home two at a time starting with Sorrel and Tahlulah. Tom and Danny were next followed closely by Cilla and Y'Ana. She decided to bring them by fire instead of water to make it easier on Sorrel and the children.
Once she had them all settled and fed at the palace she headed to her quarters for a little peace and quiet. Since traveling to Casilladin there had been no word from Cai. She’d been too busy to worry but as she turned the doorknob to her living quarters, a flutter of uncertainty filled her belly. They hadn’t gone this long without some sort of communication since they’d married. She scrubbed the back of her neck and pushed the door open. Once she’d taken a short nap, she would contact him.
A crunch beneath her boot drew her gaze down to the carpet. A round, red shape was partly covered by her foot. She bent down and picked up the crumpled red paper. A heart. She turned on the light and the trail appeared. Dozens of red paper hearts lead from the sitting room to the bedroom.
“Cai?” she called. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Are you here?” She pushed open the double-doors and the trail veered to the right side of the bed. Her breath caught in her throat when she found the end at the foot of a hand-carved cradle. She pressed her hands against her belly. He knew.
“Damn you Gordon,” she muttered under her breath and gritted her teeth.
“Don’t curse him just yet.” Cai came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her on the shoulder.
“I was going to tell you. I tried, the day you left,” she said.
“I know,” he whispered and brushed her hair to one side. He touched his lips to the place right below her ear and she melted against him.
“Are you angry,” she said her voice breathy, her eyes fluttering with pleasure.
Cai turned her to face him, pressing his lips firmly against hers. The way he kissed her made her want to crawl inside him and stay forever.
“No,” he said pulling back a little. It left her panting, wanting more. “How could I be mad about the most wonderful news I’ve ever heard?”
“So you’re happy? Even though we’re in the middle of this war and who knows how it will end.”
“This baby is hope. I can think of nothing finer than to bring hope into the world, can you?” He cupped her cheek, stroking it with his thumb.
Tears prickled the back of her throat. “What if I’m not a good mother? I couldn’t even handle bringing a seven-year-old girl back alone. I had to bring Cilla and Tahlulah with me.”
“That has nothing to do with whether or not you will be a good mother.” He hugged her tightly against his chest. Stroking her hair. “And we will find a way to deal with Y'Ana. Together. We just need to be patient. She’s been through a lot.”
“I know,” Neala said wrapping her arms around his waist. “She has all five you know, and she’s already able to control at least two with ease.”
Cai’s hand stopped mid-stroke. “She is?”
“Yes,” Neala said. “It’s almost frightening. I don’t want to think about what would happen if she were ever returned to Peter.”
His arms tightened around her. “That will never happen.”
“I hope you’re right,” she said.
He shifted her in his arms, tipping her chin up so he could look her in the eye. “I don’t want you to worry. It’s bad for the baby.”
“Yes, but—”
“Shhh— no buts. Not today.” His lips grazed her forehead, and touched each eyelid before brushing over her mouth. “What shall I do to stop my queen from worrying.”
“I can think of a few things.” She smiled against his lips. “Most of them involve you without your shirt though.”
Cai pressed his lips to hers kissing her deeply leaving her breathless and dizzy, igniting a fire of desire and love within her. She ran her hands along his back longing to feel his skin beneath her fingertips.
“I need you,” she whispered, digging her nails into the leather of his body armor.
He ran his mouth down her throat, unbuttoning the top button of her blouse, steeri
ng her towards their bed. “As you wish my queen.”
Sixteen
Cilla flipped onto her back and stared at the ornately carved ceiling. She kicked the covers off her legs and took several deep breaths trying to get her body to relax. Maybe it was just the difference in time between Tamarik and Casilladin. Or maybe it was the fact she couldn't turn her brain off and thoughts of Egan kept drifting up.
Every time she remembered some pain he had caused — her broken wrist, the scar on her shoulder that would never go away no matter how hard her mother tried, the fractured cheekbone — the thought was countered by his apologies and the way he would beg her for forgiveness and then kiss her, worshiping her body from head to toe to prove his love for her. Her skin heated and she shivered at the same time at the thought of the last time they’d made love.
She turned on her side tucking her bent arm beneath her head. She forced her eyes closed and was met by the image of his face. It was as if he was calling to her. Why couldn’t she just hate him? It was much easier to do when she was at her mother's or her aunt’s. All she had to do was think of his cheating and his heavy hands when she was away from him. The cheating hurt worse than any damage he’d done to her body. The skin and bones would heal. The scars to her heart were something altogether different. She sighed and slapped her palm against the feathery softness of the pillow. There was no sleep to be had tonight.
Cilla sat straight up and threw her legs over the side of the bed and pushed her feet into her slippers. The queen had said there was hot tea, cookies, and fruit in the breakfast room whenever she wanted. Maybe there would be some sleeping tea.
Cilla padded down the carpeted hall, stopping at the children's door to poke her head inside and check on them. The sight of her young sons sleeping soundly filled her with happiness. They shared a full sized bed, with Tom on his stomach, one arm hanging over the side and Danny curled up next to him in the center of the bed. Y'Ana slept alone in a single bed on the opposite side of the room. Even she looked peaceful which was not an easy feat. Cilla slipped inside and kissed each child on the top of the head before returning to her mission. She needed sleeping tea if she was to get any rest tonight.