by Jayne Faith
He looked up at me from under his brows, and I sensed he was waiting for me to signal that I understood what he meant so that he wouldn’t have to provide more detail. “Perhaps demonstrating for you?” I asked.
His brows lifted in surprise. “Yes. I believe you’re right. Anyway, after a short time the young man didn’t come any more. That’s when Jade turned her attention to me.”
The things he described next made me ache with sorrow. Lord Toric’s face remained still and his eyes dry, but more than once tears welled in my eyes as I silently mourned for the death of his innocence.
The Pirro woman—Jade—had taken him through what almost seemed like a scripted program of manipulation and torture. At times she’d offered him comfort, but it was clearly only to deepen the effects of her program. She’d forged a twisted bond with young Toric, a bond so strong that on the few days during his captivity that she didn’t visit him, he said it nearly drove him mad.
When Lord Toric finally fell silent, the shadow cast by the window’s frame stretched against one wall. I had no sense of how long we’d been sitting there, but by the fading twilight, it must have been hours.
“How did you get away?” I asked. The details of his escape had never been made public, though there had been endless speculation.
Lord Toric’s eyes refocused, drilling into mine for several heartbeats.
“I didn’t escape,” he said. “They let me go.”
My lips parted as I struggled for a response.
“I’ve never told anyone,” he whispered. “I let everyone think that I’d made some sort of heroic break. But I didn’t. I was so broken by that time I didn’t even want to leave. The Pirros had to make me go. They forced me to go home.”
“After all that, they—they wanted you to return home?” I could barely breathe the words.
He nodded, a wide-eyed bobbing of the head as a child would do.
“But why?” I whispered, not expecting him to know the answer.
“I never believed there was any real purpose behind what I was subjected to. But . . . do you think it could possibly have something to do with the Return?”
I felt as if a dark, chill wind had just whipped through my insides. I pulled my arms tight against my body and shuddered.
“It’s beginning to look that way, my Lord,” I said, my words falling as heavy as stones into the space between us.
The suspicions forming in my mind were of a magnitude that would change the entirety of my life, of everything I believed.
The Pirro tribe had always been an enemy of Calisto, one nation on the long list of rivals vying for Earthenfell. But until the Pirros had kidnapped the young prince, they’d barely been worth acknowledgement in terms of the larger battle for the homeland. They were a small tribe, and as Lord Toric had described, they did not have the technological or military might to pose a real threat.
I wasn’t aware of the history of clashes between the two nations, if there had been any significant battles before the Pirros took the prince. I guessed that the Calistan military had largely ignored Pirro until Toric’s abduction. But after that, the Pirros most certainly had our attention.
They were a nomadic tribe divided into separate bands, and it took some time to discover their various hideouts. Each victory over the Pirros was broadcast in the media as if it were a major step in the war. Those battles did almost nothing in terms of advancing us closer to our ultimate goal of reclaiming Earthenfell, but they’d captured the attention of the entire nation.
Prince Toric’s abduction had been a national tragedy, and when he miraculously contacted a Calistan sentry ship and was then brought home, the entire nation celebrated. But soon after his return, the whispers and rumors began. The prince had become a feral animal. A sexual deviant. Violent and crazed.
It was some time before he made his first public appearance, and even then, it was very brief, and the royal media liaison did all the talking. The prince was insulated from the public for the next couple of years. Some of the rumors died away, but others persisted.
I licked my dry lips and straightened in my chair. “Lord Toric, did anyone from the Pirro nation ever contact you after you left them?” I asked.
He squinted briefly, as if in physical pain. “No, but . . .” he said, and then hesitated for several beats, clearly reluctant to continue. “There was . . . something. I was never fully sure that I did not dream it. One day when I awoke, there was something on my bedroom window. It was a series of symbols, glyphs that I recognized. I believed they translated to “live boldly and fight bravely for your place” or something close to that. Later that day when I returned to my chambers, the message was gone. Whether or not I imagined the glyphs, it was a turning point for me. I can’t imagine why, but it brought me some measure of calm, of healing. After that, I was able to return to my studies and function normally most of the time. Enough that my family did not have to hide me away all the time.”
I wanted to probe into his thoughts about how the glyphs, if they had indeed been real, might have ended up on a palace window but sensed that first he needed to address the more personal aspect of that event. “Whether or not the message was imagined, why was it so meaningful to you that it brought you peace, my Lord?”
He lifted a hand, let it drop, and looked off to the side. “It’s hard to say. At that point I was still brainwashed. I still wanted to escape back to the Pirros. Maybe I saw it as permission from my captors to reclaim my own mind. To move on and pursue my own life. I suppose that sounds crazy, that something I believed to come from my tormentors would give me comfort.” His eyes flicked to mine and then away.
“No, actually it doesn’t sound crazy at all. Did you ever have a theory about how the glyphs might have gotten there?”
“The Pirros were very wily. In my child’s mind, I believed they were clever enough to sneak into Calisto to leave me the message. As an adult, I seriously doubt that would have been possible.”
“But do you think maybe . . . they might they have had an agent here on Calisto?” My heart thumped at the thought. The media had reported the eradication of the entire Pirro tribe not long after Prince Toric’s return. But I had difficulty believing that the Calistan military could verify such a claim. How could they know they’d destroyed every member of every nomadic Pirro band?
“It’s difficult to imagine Pirros blending in here, but . . .” He squinted again and shook his head once. “They look similar to us. Looked, I mean. Enough that, with the right dress, mannerisms, and speech, I suppose a Pirro might pass for a Calistan.”
He was twining his fingers together in his lap, and his furtive darting glances avoided my eyes. Was he hiding something?
“That idea seems very distressing to you,” I said.
“I’m sorry, but I must insist that we pause this conversation or at least speak of something else now,” he said. “I’ve told you as much as I can remember that might be relevant, anyway.”
“Of course, my Lord.” I reached for my cold tea and looked down into my cup as I sipped, giving him a moment to collect himself.
“How are things between you and Maya?” I asked, setting down my cup.
He drew a sharp breath in through his nose and squared his shoulders, his regal bearing returning. “We’re on speaking terms again. I think so, anyway. She was with me last night as part of the Tournament challenge, as I’m sure you know. Which reminds me of something I’ve been meaning to tell you. Jeric did something bad. Very bad. In fact, it was what led to the clash between me and Maya.”
“Oh?” I resisted the compulsion to grimace at the mention of Sir Jeric’s name.
“Apparently he tried to win Maya’s affection by allowing her to speak to her sister back on Earthenfell. He opened a portal, and Maya and her twin spoke briefly through it.”
Lightning seemed to jolt through me, and I gasped. My fingers flew to my lips.
“Don’t worry.” He rushed on. “Neither of them passed through it, n
or even reached through it; it was not the type of portal that would allow it. They did not breach the physical division between Earthenfell and Calisto.”
“Who else knows about this?” I asked sharply.
“Only me, Maya, and Jeric, as far as I know.” His face filled with concern as he took in my agitation. “I’ve reviewed the passages relating to the division between the lands. It’s seems that only a physical breach would violate the orders of the sacred texts.”
“By the most literal interpretation, yes,” I said. “But there are many inside the Temple who would happily take a more liberal interpretation, and along with it, an opportunity to stir up trouble. Lord Toric, we must ensure that this information does not get out. If it does . . .”
“What?” His blue-green eyes were wide, fearful. “Surely, not the fires?”
I pursed my lips for a moment. “It’s not beyond imagination, my Lord. This sort of thing could set off a panic and demands to cleanse the misstep would likely follow.”
“Then we will have to make sure no one finds out. I can’t lose her.” Passion flashed in his eyes, and his hands curled into fists.
I held in a groan. I had enough to deal with.
Taking a slow breath, I lowered my eyelids for a brief moment, trying to calm my distress. “You will have to take charge of your brother, Lord Toric. You need to find out whether anyone else knows. I do not have the time to take on this issue, too.”
“I will.” He rose. “I must go, High Priestess. We will have to continue our conversation later.”
I rose, but he was already out the door.
I stared out the window, suddenly tired. Every step forward seemed to cause an unraveling somewhere else, and me grasping for the loose threads.
I gave myself a shake. I could not afford to become paralyzed into inaction, even for a moment. I hurried from the Lord’s chambers, feeling an urgent need to return to the Temple and instruct Novia to redouble her efforts in researching everything known about the Pirros.
5
Toric
HIGH PRIESTESS LUNARIA had listened compassionately as I’d recounted the horrors of my youth, but a huge wave of relief washed over me as I left her.
Reliving events long-buried in my memory and confessing things I’d never told anyone left me feeling hollow and brittle, but the emptiness didn’t last long. Anxiety about Maya quickly welled up to fill the void.
I touched my earpiece to put myself in communication with Camira, my head administrator.
“Yes, my Lord?” came her voice.
“I need to see my brother immediately, and we must meet in a highly secure location,” I said, keeping my voice low so no one else, not even the two guards on my heels, would hear.
After a minute Camira said, “I’ve reserved one of the military meeting rooms, and Sir Jeric will meet you there in fifteen minutes. The room is being swept right now.”
Taking some comfort in Camira’s efficiency, I drew a deep breath, trying to slow my rapid pulse. “Perfect.”
When I reached the conference room Camira had appropriated—located in a branch off the main palace that housed military offices—two more elite royal guards waited outside.
“The room is clean, my Lord,” one of them said.
“Has Sir Jeric arrived?” I asked.
“Not yet.”
I pulled open the heavy door and went in, leaving the four guards outside. The room was a claustrophobic windowless box, just big enough for a square table and four chairs.
Too restless to sit, I leaned against the wall facing the door.
When Jeric opened the door, I couldn’t help wincing. His eyes were sunken and ringed with dark smudges. His clothes seemed to hang off his bony shoulders.
He closed the door, but kept one hand on the latch. He glanced warily around the small room. “Did you intend to beat me to a pulp in private?”
I crossed my arms. “You opened a portal to Earthenfell for Maya.”
He looked startled for a moment but then shifted his weight to one hip and crossed his arms, imitating my posture. “So?”
“If anyone finds out, she could end up in the sacrificial fires.” My voice sliced through the cramped space like the edge of a knife.
His eyes went wide, and his jaw slackened. Then he swallowed and began shaking his head.
“No, no, she didn’t pass through,” he said. “It didn’t violate the sacred texts, I swear.”
“Apparently that won’t matter to some in the Temple.” I raked a hand through my hair. “The Priestess says some would take a liberal interpretation of the texts and go public to raise an outcry among fanatics. We’re talking about Earthenfell, Jeric. No one cares about one Earthen girl, not when she might have risked our path to the homeland. You know it wouldn’t take much to incite very vocal mobs to start screaming for the fires.”
He’d blanched to an even more sickly shade while I was talking.
“What do we do?” True misery shone in his eyes.
I’d been counting on his obsession with Maya to drive home the gravity of the situation and spur him to help me plug any leaks, and it looked like it had worked.
“Who knows about this?” I asked.
His eyes darted around, and he blinked rapidly. “No one—only me, you, and Maya.”
“You did not involve any servants?”
His eyes pinched closed, and he flinched. “My personal servant took her to the tower.” His eyes popped open. “But he didn’t know why he was taking here there.”
“If you’re not positive, we’re going to have to do something about him.”
“Not . . .?” Jeric gave me a horrified look.
“No, we’re not going to murder him. Quarantine and questioning. And there’s another problem. She was kidnapped from the tower right after the portal closed, which means someone—”
He cut in. “I had nothing to do with that, I swear to you.”
“I know,” I said. “I’ve discovered who was behind it, but that person wasn’t involved in actually taking her.”
“Who was it?’
My eyes flicked to the door as sudden paranoia laced my insides tight. “It was our mother.” The words came with reluctance, but as unlikely as it seemed, Jeric was now an ally.
He stared at me for a moment. “You’re sure?”
I nodded stiffly. “As sure as I can be without a witness or a confession.”
He shoved his fingers into his hair and let out a string of curses. “Why? Why would she do such a thing?”
I sighed heavily. “That I do not yet know, which is why I’ve had to keep quiet. It’s not like I can have her arrested and questioned, especially without witnesses or proof. And no witness would speak out against her anyway.”
Jeric pulled a chair from the table and then sank into it and leaned his elbows heavily on his knees. “Does Maya know?”
“No, she doesn’t know about Mother or about the possible response if anyone finds out she spoke to her sister through a portal.” I let my arms drop and watched my brother for a moment. “Jeric, this fixation you have, how did it begin?”
He seemed to shrink into himself, but after a brief silence, he looked up at me. “It started the first time I saw her.” His voice seemed to come from far off, and I shivered involuntarily. “I could feel . . . something unique about her. Her energy. Ever since, it’s been like an addiction that just keeps growing worse. I want more. I want her. All the time. I don’t want to feel this way, but I can’t help it. I can think of nothing but her. I can’t find relief.”
An unexpected pang of pity stabbed my heart. I suddenly realized I knew exactly what he was feeling. It was only due to my years of meditation, training my mind, and learning to rein in my emotions and desires—which I’d had to do after my time in the hands of the Pirros to regain and maintain my sanity—that kept me from spiraling into Maya’s pull. Without years of mental and spiritual discipline, I’d probably be a huddled ghost of myself just like my brother.
“Why is this happening to me?” he whispered.
“I’m not sure.” I moved a chair from the table to the corner of the room and sat. “But I understand what you’re going through, to some extent, anyway. Maya is . . . important to the Return, somehow. I don’t know exactly how yet, but I feel deeply drawn to her as you do, and I’m beginning to believe that it’s partly due to forces much larger than us. The stars maneuvering us around.”
“As strange as it sounds, I don’t doubt you’re right.” He let out a raspy bark of a laugh. “But if that’s so, why do I need to feel it? You’re the Lord of Calisto and Earth. I have no role in the Return.”
I shook my head. “I wish I knew. And I wish I could offer something to ease your suffering.”
He looked at me for a long moment. His lips were pressed into a tight line, but I noticed a faint tremble and realized with a shock that he was holding back a swell of emotion.
His words spilled forth in a torrent. “You’re ten times the man I could ever hope to be, Toric. I’ve always known it, and it’s why I’ve always hated you. I used to tell myself that it was only a twist of fate that you were born first and heir to the throne, that it could have been me just as easily. But even when the Pirros took you, leaving the throne for me to inherit, I knew I wasn’t worthy. I wanted to be. I wanted Father to look at me the way he looked at you. Everyone thought you were dead, but I knew you would come back. Part of me hoped you wouldn’t, that circumstances would force me to rise above myself and become worthy. But I was not meant to be Lord. I don’t think there’s any way I can ever redeem myself for the life I’ve lived. I don’t think there is much within me worthy of redemption.”
“Redemption is always there if you want it, brother,” I said quietly. “It’s never too late.”
Jeric was not wrong about his self-examination. He’d done reprehensible things in the course of his life, and his acts of cruelty were among my earliest memories.
“We have to keep Maya safe,” Jeric said firmly.