“Eat now,” Numa commanded gently. “Plenty of time for glinting after.”
The girl sat down and devoured the beetcakes. Numa looked closer at the blood on the right side of the girl’s head then recoiled when she saw that most of her right ear had been cut off.
“What happened to you?” Numa asked, her voice thick with sorrow. “You beautiful child, who would hurt you this way?”
Numa reached out to loosen some of the strands of hair that were stuck to the wound when the little girl pulled away, quickly covering the side of her head with her hands.
Numa blinked and felt tears fall down her cheeks. She wanted so badly to pull this child against her, wrap her arms around her and banish all her fears. But she knew the girl was far too frightened to be smothered that way.
Instead, Numa smiled again and asked, “Do you want me to fix it?”
The girl looked puzzled for a moment, but then understanding registered on her face as she ran her own fingers over the bloody, scabbed remnants of her ear. She nodded slowly as she had done before, her eyes wide again.
“You are braver than you should have to be,” Numa said just above a whisper. Then she reached out and lovingly willed a perfect, new ear for the child. Briefly she wondered if she had done the right thing. As an Iturtian girl, perhaps the child would have preferred to keep her scars.
The girl reached up slowly, her eyes full of unspoken questions. When she felt that her ear was whole again, she smiled. A full, genuine smile that was so radiant it eased Numa’s heartache over the loss of Aerie. Then the girl laughed in a tiny, high-pitched voice, sounding every bit the child she was supposed to be, and threw herself into Numa’s arms. As Numa held her, she felt a warmth, a light, spreading out through her body. It was her own Lifeforce. It was as though Numa had unknowingly allowed the events of the last few days to freeze her Lifeforce and somehow the embrace of this lost little girl caused it to thaw. Numa realized that the child had healed her every bit as much as she had healed the child.
Numa sighed and looked around the room once as she continued to hold the girl. It was quieter now since most of the people had found enough comfort to rest. As she gazed across the sea of Lifeforce before her, Numa could see that, although they were able to rest, nearly all of them continued to suffer to some degree. Then she thought of the little girl’s ear again. “I am fool,” she said and closed her eyes, shaking her head. “I created healing remedies and blankets and food for them, when all along I had the power to heal them completely.”
“Toa! There you are!” a strikingly handsome young man called as he ran up to Numa and the girl.
The little girl reached her arms out to him and he scooped her up, holding her tightly against his chest. “I was so worried, little one,” he murmured. “You must stay with me.”
Numa studied the young man, discreetly looking him over for any injuries. “Do you require healing?” she asked him. “Food perhaps?”
“I was given food in the library,” he answered, his eyes widening slightly when he looked at her for the first time. Numa self-consciously ran her fingers over her hair, wondering if she looked as ragged as she felt. “I am perfectly well now that I have found my sister. Thank you for keeping her out of harm’s way for me.”
Numa smiled as she looked at Toa, tucked safely in her brother’s arms. “Such a brave girl,” she said. “I am glad I was able to help her.”
“Ear,” Toa said, rubbing the top of her new ear between her tiny fingers.
The young man looked at Toa’s ear and the color drained from his face as he gasped. “Holy Deis,” he whispered.
Toa and Numa both giggled.
“Did you heal her ear?” the young man asked, still wide eyed.
Numa nodded. “I am Numa, an Empyrean,” she explained proudly. “One of my glinting powers is the ability to create. When I saw that Toa’s ear had been injured, I simply created a new one for her.”
The young man set Toa down. He dropped down on one knee before Numa and bowed his head. “I am Tatparo,” he said. “For your kindness and selflessness, I hereby pledge my loyalty and devotion to you, Numa the Empyrean. Although I have only just arrived in Iturtia, I vow to become the greatest of all Iturtian warriors and live my days in service to you.”
“I am honored, but this is really not necessary,” Numa said, feeling awkward. She looked up and saw Gemynd across the room, watching with narrowed eyes.
“The honor is mine,” Tatparo said, lifting his head to look at Numa. “I have never known of someone with the ability to create and the power to heal. Your talents are surpassed only by your beauty. My service to you is necessary for I would only offend the Deis if I did not offer my life to one of their own. Please accept my service, fair Numa.”
Numa shifted her weight from one hip to the other. “Yes, I accept your service,” she said quickly.
Tatparo stood and smiled, never taking his gaze from Numa. There was a depth to Tatparo’s eyes that were inviting. They were warm and lovely. “I am the Pit Warden’s wife,” Numa blurted, startling herself.
Tatparo nodded, but his smile did not waver.
Numa suddenly felt Golath nudge her mind. The instant she gave permission for psychspeak, she heard his voice say, “Please come see me in my chamber.”
Numa looked over her shoulder to the hallway that led to the Director’s chambers just in time to see Golath walk into its shadows. “I must go,” she told Tatparo then gave Toa one more hug before she left to meet Golath.
“I am indebted to you,” Golath said as Numa entered his bedchamber and handed her a cup of water.
“Only a moment ago, I realized that I could have done more,” Numa said as she took the cup and drank heartily. “I am still learning the extent of my powers.”
“You have done more than enough already,” Golath said, refilling Numa’s water. “My people owe you their lives. I am amazed by your powers. I know so little of your people. I have studied hundreds upon hundreds of book over the years, many I could recite. But our library has nothing about Empyreans. You are the great mystery of Todor.”
Numa eyed Golath skeptically. She was certain that he was far more mysterious than she. A walking, talking man with only a speck of Lifeforce. What greater mystery could there be?
“I am far more simple than you seem to believe,” she replied. “I think Empyreans are only regarded as mysterious because we isolate ourselves from Todor. We are not Todor’s great mystery so much as we are strangers.”
Golath smiled at her. While it may have been an ordinary gesture on most faces, on his it was a dazzling display. Beautiful, shapely lips; perfect, white teeth, and its ability to transform his normally-solemn expression into something approachable, something touchable, left Numa’s knees feeling rather wobbly. The fact that it reminded her so much of Gemynd caused her chest to flutter with sudden longing.
“I witnessed your great power today,” he said. “I assure you that your mystery goes beyond the fact that you are strangers here. Furthermore, I sincerely hope that you will never be a stranger to Iturtia, or to me. After all, we are family, are we not?”
Numa nodded, but said nothing in response. Was this man her family? Was she still Gemynd’s wife?
“You must be exhausted,” Golath said, relieving the silence. “Come, sit with me for a few moments.”
Golath took Numa’s cup and moved to the bedsack where he sat down, leaning back against the stone wall. His body was in a position of rest—completely supported by the bedsack and wall—yet Numa sensed a powerful tension within him, like a leather strap pulled too tight. Did he ever truly rest? Did he sleep and find peace there?
“Thank you,” Numa said and sat down beside him. Her body instantly drooped against the wall; her muscles unable to hold her upright for another moment. “It is true. I am exhausted. It has not been an easy few days.”
Golath sighed, letting his head roll to the side. “No, it has not.”
Numa peeked at him agai
n from under her downcast lashes. After all that she’d witnessed him do today, there was no denying his capacity for love and caring. He had tended the sick and fed the poor just as Numa herself had done. Could he really do all of that and still be the wretch she’d made him out to be?
“I am sorry for the things I said this morning,” she said quietly. “It was not right for me to blame you for everything that way. I spoke out of turn.”
“Think nothing of it,” Golath replied. “Your heart has been broken. You need someone to blame. I understand. Aerie was my home as well. I mourn for it along with all Aerites. I had not realized until it was gone, but a part of me always hoped to return.”
Numa felt her lower lip tremble and she tried with all her might to stop the tears that burned at her eyes. But the harder she tried to stop them, the more forcefully they came, until she found herself weeping like a newborn in front of the Director of Iturtia. “I’m sorry,” she sputtered between sobs.
“Come, daughter,” Golath said and pulled Numa into his arms.
How strange it was to have Golath’s arms around her. And even stranger that Numa found comfort there. She was enveloped in pure, raw power. The kind of power that would be lethal if directed at an enemy. But Numa felt protected by it; wholly safe within it.
“You have lost so much,” Golath said tenderly as he squeezed her. “But you have not lost everything. Not if you don’t want it that way. Your Zobanite friend lives. You have me. And you still have Gemynd.”
“Do I?” Numa asked, wrinkling her forehead. “I honestly don’t know that I do. The man that I saw destroy Aerie was not my husband.”
“Gemynd is a man with great power. I believe his power is greater even than mine. And possibly greater than yours,” Golath said. “He must use his power as he believes is right within his own heart. Sometimes it will be to build up and sometimes it will be to break down. Do you need to know more than that to love him?”
“My love for him is not in question, whether I wish it to be or not,” Numa said and sighed. “But I’ve come to realize that love is not the cure for loathing. To love someone does not mean that you cannot also hate him.”
“I am certain you do not truly hate Gemynd,” Golath said, in a tone used to indulge a child. “He loves you. Fiercely. Would a wicked man be capable of loving so deeply?”
Numa felt her throat constrict with a new wave of emotion. “Every time I close my eyes, I see the horror of it all. How can I look upon him and not blame him for the pain in my heart?” she said.
“He did what he believed was right. Can you believe that?”
“How can such cruelty and brutality be right?!” Numa snapped then grabbed hold of Golath’s hand. “You know him so well. Do you believe he has fallen into madness?”
“Madness?” Golath asked, looking perplexed. “Is that how you wish to see your husband? If you must debase him, I am certain he would prefer you think him wicked over mad. A mad Iturtian is a weak Iturtian.”
Golath leaned back and rubbed his hand across his chin. “I know that you do not fully trust me,” he said, his eyes piercing through her. “I do hope to remedy that some day, but for now, you can take my word that Gemynd is neither wicked nor mad. He is the same man you have always loved.”
“I want for that to be true,” Numa said, but still felt that forgiveness would be impossible.
“I have no right to ask anything more of you after all you’ve given me today,” Golath said and Numa felt certain she saw a shimmer of unshed tears in his eyes. “But I do beseech you one more thing: Don’t turn your back on him. You love him, I know you do. Use that to stay by his side always. Believe in him. For I know all too well that it is your love—and your love alone—that will see him through the dark times. Stay with him.”
Numa pressed her fingers against her lips, trying to still their trembling. “I fear what he is capable of doing,” she said and sucked in a ragged breath. “What if Aerie was just the beginning?”
“He is capable of carrying out whatever he believes to be right,” Golath said. “It is a curse and a burden to have that much power. Don’t let him carry it alone.”
“If it is a burden, then it is his burden,” Numa protested. “I, too, have great power and have not felt it to be a burden.”
“Then you have been blessed,” Golath said and tipped his chin down to level his gaze right at Numa. “Unlike Gemynd, you have never been in the position of having to destroy that which you love, have you?”
Numa’s breath caught in her throat. Gemynd loved Aerie. It was his home; it was his mother’s home. He loved Soman and the Baldaquin tree and Keeper Stout. In order to destroy these things, he must have believed it was the best choice. And it must have taken more strength and courage than Numa could even imagine. “His heart must be broken far worse than mine,” she said and stood up.
“He needs you,” Golath replied with a single nod. “Go to him.”
Numa closed her eyes and willed herself to be with Gemynd. As she felt her body becoming formless to leave Golath’s bedchamber she opened her eyes and saw that Golath was standing too, rubbing his hands together. And his eyes twinkled with the unmistakable look of a man who had just gotten exactly what he wanted.
Numa stood on the ambulatory just outside Gemynd’s tiny chamber. It was dark—darker even than the Director’s hallway. The small, inadequate oil lamps that lined the walkway provided only a single point of illumination. Numa mused that their sole purpose must be in preventing people from walking headlong into the wall, for they were useless at affording any real sight.
She took a fortifying breath and realized the air smelled and tasted like rockdust, simultaneously metallic and earthy. Numa had not noticed it being so thick in the air before, but found that she rather liked it. It was cool and clean and, after having spent so much time crowded by bleeding, fevered bodies, it was nearly as refreshing as being outside.
Numa took a step into Gemynd’s cell, the light within it significantly brighter. Gemynd stood at the opposite side of the room, bent at the waist, arms out straight with his palms against the wall as though he, alone, held it up. Numa watched silently as a bead of sweat fell from his forehead.
“Gemynd?” she whispered, unsure how to begin.
Gemynd stood up and faced her. He straightened his back, squared his shoulders and lifted his chin, making himself look like a replica of his father. But in his eyes, Numa saw a sadness that had not been there before.
“I did not know if I would ever stand this close to you again,” he said, his face a mask of stone.
As she looked at him, all Numa wanted was to fall into his arms and be sheltered there. For it was within those arms that she always felt she most belonged. “I need to know why,” she said.
Gemynd did not blink nor look away, but gazed directly into her eyes and said, “I did it to sustain the Oneness of Life. I did it to save my loved ones. My father. Myself. You.”
“But Aerie was our home! I don’t understand how destroying it saved any of us,” Numa said.
“Sometimes the most beautiful things in our lives are really our greatest obstacles. As long as Aerie stood, there would be a sanctuary—a hiding place—for the Keepers who kept control over Todor with their lies and with their wealth,” he said, conviction strong in his voice. “It is time for the people of Todor to no longer depend on wealth, but on wisdom. For wealth is nothing but a womb for deception. Like the Keepers, it cannot be trusted. It was time to rid Todor of it all. I want you, and one day our children, to live in a land where we need never hide our abilities; where everything is truth and nothing is lies.”
“Couldn’t there have been another way?” Numa asked. “A meeting of some kind perhaps? Was death and destruction the only way?”
Gemynd swallowed and a flicker of sorrow passed through his eyes. “I don’t believe there is any use in discussion when the words cannot be trusted,” he said. “It was at the cost of a few that I freed all of Todor.”
/> “I know too well the deception of the Keepers of Aerie, and the fact that they controlled the wealth of Todor never felt right to me,” Numa said. “But it is difficult for me to accept that those things couldn’t have been changed without causing so much suffering.”
“I left no one to linger in pain,” Gemynd replied. “Any remaining suffering exists only in the minds of people who are unwilling to accept change.”
“It is not just in their minds, Gemynd,” Numa said. “They suffer in their hearts as well. You did leave many—including me—to linger in the pain of a broken heart. And I am certain that you bear the pain of grief yourself. You lost your home. You lost Soman at the hands of your own betrayal. You lost Keeper Stout.”
Gemynd nodded slowly and clenched his jaw tight. “As I said, it was at the cost of a few that I freed all of Todor,” he said quietly. “I can choose to suffer within my grief or I can choose to make certain that it did not arise in vain. I choose the latter. I know I’ve hurt you, my love, and I am deeply sorry for your pain. I cannot take it away, but I can devote my life to making it worthwhile. I believe in a new Todor. One with true freedom for all its inhabitants. Despite what I’ve put you through, can you find it within yourself to believe in me?”
“Oh, Gemynd,” Numa gushed. She was done protecting herself from him and she knew it. In that moment, she realized that loving him was enough and she ran to him, the ache to have him in her arms overpowering all else.
As she crushed herself against him, Numa felt Gemynd’s heart thundering in his chest. His arms came around her and held her forcefully. He took a single breath in and Numa felt his resolve crumble too.
“I have been pacing a rut in this floor for hours, just trying to figure out how to go on without you,” he said, his voice muffled against her neck. “I was certain I could bear the burden of it all as long as you were with me. But I feared I’d lost your love forever, and I faced a puzzle with no answer. For there simply is no way to go on without you. You are the one thing I cannot bear to lose.”
Disintegration: The Todor Trilogy, Book Two Page 6