by Amy Miles
TWENTY-THREE
Darkness surrounds me like an oppressive cocoon. It is everywhere. Instead of giving into the terror of being buried alive, I close my eyes to try to focus. No sound penetrates my space, no hint of the outside world. That is an unbelievably disturbing feeling. I try to conserve my breaths, telling myself that someone will find me, but one nagging thought keeps me perched on the edge of panic─ what if there is no one left to search?
I have tried to reach out to Kyan several times but find myself too weak to maintain any semblance of a connection. My arms ache, cramped between my head and the rocks hovering only inches above.
The sensation of falling through the earth was not nearly as frightening as when it tumbled in upon me. I was sure I was dead. Considering I feel like I’m sucking in fire every time I take a breath, that still feels like a very real possibility.
After what seems like an eternity trapped within my rock tomb, I’ve long since stopped analyzing the impossibility of my predicament. I have no clue how I’m able to hold back the avalanche of rock that caved in when I parted the earth, but the longer I remain imprisoned here, the heavier the weight feels.
Sweat beads along my brow as I press upward with my hands, trying to shift some of the crushing weight off, but my arms wobble under the pressure.
I can’t do this on my own. Kyan, please find me soon!
Tears slip from between my clamped eyes as a sense of hopelessness falls over me. My back arches, strained by the weight that seems to increase with every passing moment.
I sink lower, contorting into a small, disfigured ball. The sound of rocks shifting all around wrenches a cry from my throat. Growing up in the rebellion, I knew death was not just a possibility, it was a likelihood. I accepted the fact that someday I would fall to the hand of a Caldonian who bested me, but never would I have dreamed up a death such as this.
My body begins to tremble as my legs give out on me and I collapse to the floor, my cheek pressed to the cold stone. The rocks shift again, pressing down on me. I try to press back, but I have no strength left.
I can hear the plinking of rock as it falls, altering to fill the space I have unwillingly provided. The sound is quickly followed by a scraping. I open my eyes and try to crane my neck back. “Hello?”
The rocks to the right of me quiver as they unsettle, inch by inch, but they are definitely on the move. “Can you hear me?”
My screams ricochet off the stone, drowning out any response that may have tried to poke through the moving stone. Silence is my companion once more, as infuriating as it is terrifying. I know someone is out there.
At this point, I really don’t care. The thought of being able to see sunlight and take a deep breath of fresh air is enough to make me weep. It doesn’t matter who is trying to rescue me as long as they get here soon.
“Help me!” I scream until my voice is hoarse. “Please! I can’t hold it much longer!”
Shouts rise on the other side of the rock wall and I can hear the stone tumbling faster. My neck cramps as I crane to see the progress just behind me. Someone must have found the crevice Eamon and I used. The thought of Drakon forcing information out of Eamon sends a burst of heat racing down my arms and into my fingertips.
Trembling so badly I can hardly keep my hand aloft, I stretch out my fingers toward the rock wall. An invisible pulse ripples through the large stones, disintegrating them to a fine dust.
I gasp, choking on the gritty powder and suck in the blast of fresh air that pours through the opening. A hand grasps my foot and yanks me through the hole. The instant the heat retracts from my fingertips, the rocks collapse behind me with a thunderous roar.
My ankle pops as I’m pulled into the small space Eamon and I occupied not long ago. Strong arms wrap about me as I’m lifted into someone’s lap. I double over, hacking up the particles in my lungs.
“That was a bit over-dramatic don’t ya think, Princess?”
I jerk upright, ignoring the stabbing pain in my side as I stare into Bastien’s beautiful blue eyes. “You’re alive?” I croak, trying to blink away the mirage.
“Last I checked.”
My world careens out of control as Bastien holds me close, cradling me like a little child, safe and protected.
“You sure do know how to make a statement, little lady,” a voice calls me from my slumber.
I groan, raising my hand to hold my forehead. “I feel like I dove head first into boulder.”
“That’s not too far off, actually,” the masculine voice chuckles.
My eyes flutter open and I stare up at an unfamiliar ceiling. It is wood instead of stone, slatted with uneven, knotted boards. The texture is rough, riddled with splinters. I ease my head to the side and wait for the nausea to subside as I look about me. The walls and floor match the ceiling. A tall wooden door with a rope latch rests off to my right. A crude table and chair set, hewn from pine, rests in the middle of the room. Low wooden cots, adorned with jet-black blankets neatly tucked under, line the far wall.
Light drifts in through a window on the opposite wall. The small square space is lined with a thick opaque plastic, tacked down with rusted, bent nails.
“How are you feeling, besides your headache?”
I try to crane my neck back to see who is speaking to me, but the muscles in my neck spasm painfully and I sink back down. “I will live.”
“Yes, it seems you’re quite the fighter. Kyan will be pleased to hear of it.”
“I can’t see you,” I whisper hoarsely. My throat is parched, almost as if it’s been weeks since my last drop of water.
“My apologies. I was just trying to finish repairing your head wound. You roused much sooner than I thought you would. You’re a stubborn little thing too, I’d wager.”
I hear a clink of metal and a scrape of a chair. A man comes into view, beautiful but older than any Caldonian I’ve ever seen. His face is kind and weathered. Wrinkles line his forehead and the corners of his eyes. They are the color of warm butterscotch, dulled with age. “Who are you?”
“My name is Brym.” His voice is gritty, reminding me of dirt rubbing against stone.
“And you are Kyan’s friend?”
He nods with a tender smile. “I’m his custodian, his keeper I suppose you would say.”
“I bet that’s a fun job.”
He grins. “It’s often challenging. He always was a difficult child.”
“You raised him?”
“Indeed. Not long before his dad went off to train with Commander Drakon’s forces, his mother became pregnant with a second child. She didn’t survive the birth. With Kyan’s father away, I was charged with his care. Been with him ever since.” He wipes his hands on a cloth and I can’t help but notice they are stained with blood. My blood. I begin to feel weak and am thankful that I’m lying down.
“What was he like?”
“Not all that much different than he is now. Always a dreamer, that one. I’ve never seen a child with such love of the prophecies. Can’t say I was surprised when he enlisted for this mission. Years away from home meant nothing to him. He had nothing to stick around for, but had every reason to leave.”
“Why?”
Brym pats my hand with a rough, calloused palm. “Because of you, dear.”
The reminder of the destiny that’s been dumped on my shoulders makes me want to flee. I grip the edge of the cot and try to rise up. “I need to find my friends.”
“Easy. It’s too soon. You need to rest. Kyan will be along to see you shortly.”
“Why?”
His eyes darken imperceptibly. “Did he not tell you?”
“I’m guessing you’re about to give me another cryptic answer,” I grumble, sinking down onto the cot. Even though every part of me wants to crawl out of bed and find my friends, I remain immobile. My head feels much better this way.
“Those aren’t my specialty.” He win
ks. “Kyan is a healer and a darn good one at that. I’m sure he can fix you up in no time.”
“And my friends?”
“All safe and accounted for, even the wee ones who were injured during the escape. They’re getting settled in here nicely.”
“And where exactly is here?” I ask, glancing back at the unfamiliar room. Although the wood offers a warm, rustic feel it still feels foreign and cold to me. The forest may be my sanctuary, but it has never been my home.
“My camp,” Kyan says as he pushes through the door. Brym rises and bustles out of the room without so much as a goodbye to either of us.
I survey Kyan as he approaches my bedside, detecting a faint limp when he steps. “Are you ok?”
“Oh yes.” He smiles with obvious exhaustion. Dark circles lie beneath his lower eyelids. His face is pale, almost as if he hasn’t seen the sun in months. “It’s been a long few days.”
“Few days?” I jerk upright and instantly regret it as pain explodes like a bombshell in completely random places along my body.
Kyan presses on my shoulders and forces me back onto the soft blanket that’s been rolled under my head as a pillow. “I must insist that you rest. If you try to resist me, I will be forced to knock you out again.”
“Again?”
He nods solemnly. “The first time you awoke you were so distraught I feared you would hurt yourself. I had no choice.” Although his words sound sincere, I can’t help feeling irate over his casual use of unconsciousness as a means of subduing me. “Will you behave this time?”
I nod, wincing at the jolt of pain that skewers my eyes to my skull. I groan and grasp my head, feeling another wave of nausea.
“I’m sure Brym has informed you that I am a healer as well as a mind reader. As you can tell from my less than perky state, I’ve been run ragged repairing the wounds your friends sustained in their flight from Commander Drakon. I’m afraid it is up to you to heal yourself.”
My eyes pop open wide. “Are you serious? Is this some cruel test or something?”
He smiles. “Or something.”
“Unbelievable!”
Kyan leans in close, the tips of his hair brushing along my bare arm. “What you did with that mountain should have killed you in more ways than one. The sheer fact that you can draw breath into your lungs tells me that I have greatly underestimated you, but I fear the implications of your actions. Commander Drakon will not be swayed. Your abilities do not make him fear you. They entice him. You are in far more danger than you were before.”
I drop my gaze. “I saw Bastien die.”
“No. You saw a glimpse of the future, one that had yet to take place. Your assumption that it was happening in present time nearly killed your friends, Illyria.”
Feelings of guilt wiggle through my intestines and sit heavily in my abdomen, increasing my nausea. “I didn’t know.”
“Exactly. You are developing abilities far faster than I had anticipated. We must begin your training at once otherwise we are all in danger.”
I scowl. “I don’t want to be like this, you know. I never asked to be a…freak.”
Kyan’s gaze softens as he rests his hand upon my arm. It is warm and smooth, a stark contrast to Brym. “No one chooses their destiny, Illyria. It chooses you.”
He falls silent and sits back, releasing me. “There is more that I should tell you. I wanted to, but feared overloading you.”
“Oh no,” I groan, struggling to roll onto my side to face him. “It can’t possibly be any worse than having some old pervert hot for me, can it?”
When Kyan refuses to look at me, I know this can’t be good. “Tell me,” I say, steeling myself for whatever he might hit me with.
He clears his throat and wrings his hands before him. “Do you care for Bastien?”
I scrunch up my brow as I roll the words around on my tongue. “What do you mean by care?”
He leans in closer, locking his silver gaze on me. “We both know why you lost control back at the caves. You though Bastien was dead. Not Eamon or the rest of your friends. Even with your abilities, you should never have been strong enough to cave in that mountain. So I’ve been asking myself how you did it. The only conclusion I can come to is that you’re falling for Bastien.”
I snort, rolling my eyes. “Hardly. The guy is infuriating. He spends all his time challenging everything I say, he’s rude, insensitive─”
“Is he?” Kyan asks, sitting back. “Can you honestly tell me that he hasn’t shown you his true self?”
I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling overhead. “Why are you asking me this? Why force me to label it as anything more?”
“Because the fate of both our worlds rests on how much you care for him, Illyria.”
“What are you talking about? How can my liking or not liking a guy matter to anyone?” I snap. The pounding in my head increases tenfold as I massage my temples. Even if I were to consider courting Bastien, I don’t see how that is anyone’s business.
“Do you remember me telling you that soulmates are created on Calisted?” I nod. “Even though your birth was not sanctioned, your soulmate was.”
“And I’m guessing this is the part where you tell me that Bastien isn’t the one for me,” I sneer, crossing my arms over my chest.
Kyan purses his lips. “No, but apparently, you’ve begun to fall for him despite that.”
“I’m not in love with him, if that’s what you’re implying.”
He raises his hands in surrender. “I never said that word, but even if you choose not to say it, I think you know something is going on between you.”
I grit my teeth and struggle to push aside the thought of the kiss Bastien and I shared. His touch rocked me far more than I want to admit. “So who is my soulmate then?”
Kyan bows his head. “Eamon.”
“No way!” I jerk upright and cry out as pain explodes through my head. A stabbing in my chest reminds me that several ribs are broken. I suck in deep breaths as the pain subsides and I sink back onto the bed. “That’s not possible. I mean…he’s my best friend!”
Kyan offers me a mug of water and I raise up just high enough to let the cool liquid quench my thirst. He sets the cup aside and crosses his leg over his knee as I stare back at him. “Love is not a word that I was raised to toss around, Kyan, but I do know the meaning of it. If what you say is true, then Eamon and I are one heck of a dysfunctional couple!”
He steeples his fingers in front of his lips. “The feelings that you have for Bastien, which I know you are desperate to deny, should not be possible.”
“Tell me about it,” I grumble, shoving my hair back from my face. “The guy’s a real pain in my butt!”
He doesn’t crack a smile so I fall into an uncomfortable silence. Kyan’s breathing slows as he closes his eyes. I watch as he tilts his head from side to side, mumbling so low I can hardly hear him. When he finally opens his eyes, I’m taken back by the intensity of his gaze.
“This is a choice that only you can make, Illyria, but I warn you to choose wisely. Walking away from your destiny for Bastien will bring great suffering to your people.”
“I don’t want to choose anyone! I just want to be left alone.”
Kyan sighs and hangs his head. “I’m afraid that’s not possible. One way or another you will be forced to make this decision.”
“And if I choose Eamon? What will that do to Bastien?”
Kyan looks away. “No matter who you choose, someone will be hurt. The question you have to ask yourself is what are you willing to live with.”
“That is the biggest guilt trip in the history of the world.”
“No,” Kyan says, pressing his hands to my forehead. A blessed coolness rushes over my body and the pain begins to recede as darkness steals me away again. “That is the truth.”