“I’m sorry, brother,” Gemynd whispered, feeling the ice-cold stab of guilt penetrate his insides. Its vicious claws seizing everything within him, turning his heart to shreds.
All at once, Gemynd realized he would not accept it. It was not enough. They needed more time together. “I won’t lose you,” he said and rushed back to Soman. “If your heart will not beat on its own, I will make it beat for you!”
Gemynd lifted his fists high in the air then lowered them with all his might, pounding fiercely on Soman’s chest. Over and over and over again, he pounded.
“You! Will! Not! Die!” he shouted with every landing of his fist.
Gemynd was vaguely aware of Keeper Sam running to alert the guards. From some far off place, he registered Numa’s screams, but blocked them out as he focused on his task. He heard her inside his mind again and again, begging for his permission to take him from Zoban. But he couldn’t leave. Not yet.
From the corner of his eye, Gemynd saw the chamber door swing open and an army of enormous men burst through it like a swarm of angry needleflies. They were coming after him, but he would not cease pounding on Soman’s chest. Not until the heart within it beat again of its own accord.
“Gemynd! Please!” Numa shrieked, yanking on his cloak. “We must go! Now!”
Gemynd heard the footsteps of the soldiers coming ever closer, but he refused to give them any attention. His focus was solely on Soman.
He heard the metal rasping of their longknives as they pulled them from their scabbards, and their shouts to take Gemynd dead or alive. He had to ignore them, force them from his attention even as he could feel the warmth of their bodies surrounding him. They would be upon him at any moment.
“Soman!” he shouted, driving all of his Lifeforce through his fists into Soman’s chest.
A giant hand closed around Gemynd’s right shoulder, but still he pounded. Then a tree-trunked-sized arm wrapped around him from behind and dragged him off the bedsack, but Gemynd would not take his eyes off of Soman.
Numa screamed and, without looking, Gemynd knew that they had seized her. He squirmed in his captor’s grasp, reaching his hand out for her and, at last, saw Soman’s eyes open once again.
Immediately, Gemynd gave Numa permission to take them from there. Once again they stood in the safe confines of Gemynd’s chamber in Iturtia.
“He lives!” Gemynd shouted, taking Numa in his arms and spinning her in a circle. But one look at her face told him she was none too pleased.
“You cannot take such risk with your life!” she scolded. “You frightened me to death. I thought I would lose you both.”
Gemynd pulled back to look at her. Numa’s bottom lip stuck out and her eyes were drawn down in such a way that made her look as though she could not decide if she was sad or angry. “Instead, you still have us both,” he said and kissed the tip of her nose.
In spite of her scolding, Numa smiled up at him. “He lives,” she repeated. “You saved him.”
“It was as though I had no choice,” Gemynd said and exhaled loudly. “I was driven by something inside of me and I could not stop until I’d had my way. I could not accept losing him.”
Numa wrinkled her forehead. “He is still ill, though, isn’t he? And we certainly can’t risk going back now. They will surely have guards posted right by Soman’s side. We could still lose him,” she said.
Gemynd nodded. “Yes, but my hope is that Keeper Sam will give him the fairytooth, which we know will fight the fever.”
The look of concern remained on Numa’s face. “Do you trust this Keeper Sam?” she asked.
Gemynd answered without hesitation. “No,” he said. “I definitely do not. He is hiding something. I am certain of that. What about you? What did you see in his Lifeforce?”
“Everything I saw looked genuine,” she said, then hesitated. “But there were dark pockets through which I could not see. And I can’t for the life of me recall ever having seen him in Aerie.”
“Nor I,” Gemynd agreed. “If he was a Keeper there, I would have known it.”
Numa sighed and rested her head against Gemynd’s chest as they stood in the dark chamber. “Your heartbeat is the sweetest music to my ears,” she said. “Do you remember when we were children, how we would giggle at the people who stood in line at the healers’ shop every day to get their drink of morning-bell juice?”
“Yes,” Gemynd said and smiled. “We called them ‘juicers’.”
“I think I understand them a little more,” Numa said. “Your heartbeat, your life, sustains me and I need it the way they needed their juice. I would line up every day to get it if I had to. And my greatest fear is being without it. I never want to lose you.”
“I am sorry that I frightened you,” Gemynd replied, kissing the top of her head and running his hand through her hair. “But you didn’t lose me.”
“Promise me I never will. If war is our future, let me fight by your side. Let me love you for a hundred thousand days. I will no longer pretend that our time together can be spent in the ideal peace of our childhood, but let us face the reality of life in Todor together. I can go through famine, sickness, and even war, as long as I am with you.”
Gemynd closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “Your love and devotion sustain me,” he said. “I should forbid you from going to war. You are all goodness and I should prevent you from seeing its horrors. But the truth is, I want you by my side. I trust in your powers and I welcome your protection. And when I die—whether it is soon in battle, or as an old man too feeble to take another breath—yours is the face I want to see as my heart beats its last.”
Numa lifted her head and looked at him with an excited smile on her face. “Really?” she asked. “You will not try to stop me from going to war with you?”
Gemynd shook his head. “No,” he said. “Now that I know I need never fear your death, it would be a foolish thing for me to decline your assistance.”
Suddenly, Gemynd heard Golath’s voice speaking inside his mind. “My son, you are needed in the pit,” he said.
“On my way,” he replied silently, then turned to Numa. “I have been summoned to the pit.”
Numa nodded. “Let us go to the pit then,” she said while simultaneously nudging Gemynd’s mind for permission.
“You will wait here,” Gemynd said abruptly, the image of Numa in the pit causing his stomach to clench up into a tiny knot.
Numa wrinkled her brow. “Please, do not shut me out of this,” she said, a look of desperation filling her eyes so quickly Gemynd had to take a step back. “You are the Pit Warden and so the pit must be a large part of your life. I don’t know that I can bear another moment of feeling like I never really knew you. Whatever it is, if it is a part of you, I want to know it. I want to know all of it. Let me know every part of you. Please.”
“I fear you will see things there that you will not understand,” Gemynd said.
“Then you will explain them to me,” Numa replied. “You talked of wanting your father to rule so that Todor can finally be a land free of deception. Let it start with us, my love. As beautiful as it was, our life in Aerie was but a mask, a veil. We know that now. Maybe our life now will have ugliness in it that neither of us can even imagine, but it will be real. Let us live in truth together.”
Gemynd chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Very well,” he said tentatively. He did want her to know all of him. He wanted nothing more than to live in complete truth with her. He tried to think of the right words to say to prepare her for what she would experience in the pit. He would never forget his first time there. The sights and sounds and smells had horrified him. It wasn’t until he had completed his own training that he fully understood and appreciated the purpose of it. In the end, he decided there simply was no way to prepare her, so he said, “Just remember that there is a reason for everything you will see. And I believe with my whole heart that the training in the pit is right and necessary.”
Numa nodded and silentl
y nudged his mind, but he still declined to respond.
“Will you still love me?” he asked, pressing his forehead against hers, his own breath warm on his upper lip. “If I became wicked in your eyes, would you love me then?”
Numa wrapped her arms around his waist. “There is a thread of Lifeforce that connects my heart to yours,” she said. “I didn’t put it there, nor can I remove it. It is beyond my control. It is proof that my love for you is eternal. There is nothing either of us could ever do to destroy it. I believe it will exist even after our bodies have turned to ash. My heart is infinitely yours. I will always love you.”
Gemynd smiled, feeling assured by her words, and gave her permission to take them to the pit.
In an instant, Gemynd stood on the landing overlooking the pit, his hand holding tight to Numa’s. Golath stood just in front of them, his hands resting on the railing.
“We are here, Father,” Gemynd said.
Golath turned around, a look of surprise passing over his face when he saw Numa standing beside Gemynd. “A delightful surprise to see you together,” he said. “I asked you to come down here so you could see for yourself how well the instructors are performing. I believe they all wish to impress their beloved Pit Warden now that he has returned.”
Gemynd glanced at Numa and squeezed her hand ever tighter, noticing a film of sweat was building up between them. He took a deep breath and plunged forward, pulling Numa to the railing with him. When he got there, he looked out across the great cavern that had been his home for the last three years. He had learned hard and worked hard here. His mind had touched every part of the room. He had finely honed every section until it all worked flawlessly, and his presence, even as Pit Warden, was hardly necessary. Now he saw the fire at just the right height; the rats kept hungry; the blades kept sharp and the brands kept hot. The children were learning exactly as they should. Everything was perfect.
Gemynd grinned at the absolute seamlessness of his training grounds, then turned to look at Numa. Her eyes were wide and, even in the orange glow of the firelight, he could see that her skin had turned perfectly white. She yanked her hand free of his grasp, covering her mouth with it. She shook her head back and forth as though rejection was her only option. When her eyes met Gemynd’s, he saw that there was nothing in them but horror and aversion.
Gemynd reached for her, knowing she was but a breath away from disappearing. But just when his hands would have touched her skin, she was gone. Gemynd juggled the air, reaching for something that was not there. There was nothing there to hold.
Gemynd doubled over and sucked in his breath. The force of Numa leaving was like a battering ram through his guts. His chest ached and he clutched at it with both hands. Over and over again he nudged at Numa’s mind as hard and as fast as he could, pounding on that door with all his might. But it was no use. There was no one on the other side. She was truly gone.
“Numa,” Gemynd whispered as he fell to his knees. “Come back.”
“Get up, son,” Golath said, walking towards Gemynd. “Do not let them see you this way.”
At the sound of his father’s voice, Gemynd swallowed down his pain until it turned into white-hot rage in his belly. He jumped to his feet and spun to face Golath, the Zobanite cloak trailing like a banner behind him.
“This is your fault!” he snarled. “You made me believe in this! You twisted me into a monster; a monster who takes pride in the torture of children!”
“You may blame me if it makes you feel better,” Golath said in an even tone, though Gemynd knew him well enough to hear the anger seething beneath the surface.
“And Aerie!” Gemynd continued, walking towards Golath, his hands clenched in fists. “You tricked me into destroying it!”
“You cannot be tricked,” Golath scoffed and Gemynd felt the flames of his ire grow ever larger, ever hotter.
“Do not lie to me!” he shouted and, with his mind, sent a firebrand from the floor below flying at his father’s face. But it only came within six hands of Golath before dropping to the rock floor with a clattering that seemed to echo through all of Todor.
Golath turned to face Gemynd, his knees slightly bent, ready to defend himself. “You do not want to fight me,” he said, his voice low and menacing. For the space of a heartbeat Gemynd felt threatened, but then his anger returned twofold.
“I want to destroy you!” he roared. With all of his force and power, Gemynd began hurling every sharpened object within the pit at Golath. Longknives, short-knives, hooks, nails and spears.
And with even greater force, Golath threw them right back at Gemynd. The two men stood inside a cyclone of spinning weapons.
“You are being a fool!” Golath shouted.
“You’ve ruined me!” Gemynd shouted back. “I spent most of my life wanting to know you and now it is my greatest regret!”
A saw blade sailed by Gemynd’s right arm and he was unable to maneuver his mind fast enough to change its path. It cut deep into Gemynd’s skin and he closed his eyes against the pain. A moment later, he felt something sharp pierce into the front of his left thigh. He was no match for his father’s strength and he released his control over the weapons. One by one, the weapons fell hard to the stone floor, as though it rained metal. Still, one spear spun round and round until its point faced directly at Gemynd. Then, with the speed of lightening, it flew at Gemynd’s face.
Gemynd skittered backwards until his back slammed against the stone wall. He had nowhere else to go. He forced his eyes to stay open and watch without blinking, without wincing, as the spear point rushed towards him. It came to rest at the side of his throat and sank ever deeper into his flesh as Golath marched towards him.
“Why can’t you just give me what I want?” Gemynd asked, his voice a mere squeak as the spear continued pushing against his throat.
“I have been trying to give you control of all of Todor,” Golath sneered. “What more could you want?
“I want the truth!” Gemynd shouted in psychspeak.
“The truth?” Golath asked. “The truth is that you, son, are not a victim. Nothing has happened without your permission. Your will is far too strong to be controlled by anyone but you.”
“What does that mean, Father? What have you done?”
“Everything I’ve done was for you,” Golath roared. “I was banished from Aerie to protect you. From the day you were born, every lie I told, every wound I in-flicted, every ruler I controlled, and every life I took, was for you. I did it all for you. But you cannot blame me for Aerie. You saw me write the peace declaration with your own eyes. You were the one who did not choose peace.”
“I didn’t want this!” Gemynd said, feeling streams of warm blood trickle down his neck. “I didn’t want to destroy my home or betray my friend or lose my wife. I didn’t want any of that.”
“Nor did I want that for you, son,” Golath said, pushing slightly harder on the spear. “You may not believe me, but I worked my whole life so that you would not live in a world of secrecy and divided peoples; so you would never know the emptiness of having your home and family torn from you; so that you would never taste the bitterness of a lifetime of resentment. But it seems my efforts were futile. Apparently the Deis have conspired to make your fate the same as mine.”
“Are you going to kill me, Father?” Gemynd asked, looking down at the spear.
Golath did not move but waited for Gemynd to look him in the eyes. Then he said, “You have been blessed to have loved many people in your short life, and you have not had to watch many of them die. Your mother, Soman, Numa. They all still live. And yet, of all your loved ones, which of them stands with you now? Which of them has given up anything to be with you here in Iturtia right now? No, son, I am not going to kill you. Never again forget that I am the only one who knows the true meaning of loyalty. I am the one who will always stand by you.”
Golath dropped the spear then and pulled Gemynd into an embrace. Suddenly Gemynd was a seven again and his fath
er was holding him, filling up the loneliness that a lifetime apart had left. Gemynd let himself weep in his father’s arms, grieving for all that he’d lost. After several moments, he pulled back and looked into Golath’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Father,” he said.
“I understand your need to lash out,” Golath said and squeezed Gemynd’s shoulder. “It would be wise for you to consider that your anger is misdirected at me, however, only because you cannot bring yourself to blame her.”
Gemynd felt a part of himself die inside. His father was right. Gemynd had to face the fact that Numa had betrayed him. The one person he had placed his complete faith in had deceived him. She had said she wanted to truly know him, all of him, without a mask or pretense. Her beguiling words had convinced him show her the darkest part of himself. And she left him for it.
“Even if I could blame her, I could never fight her. I turned to you for that and I am sorry,” Gemynd said.
“Store up your anger for the battlefield where it will be most useful,” Golath replied and poked at the new cut on Gemynd’s arm. “And take off this ridiculous cloak, you’ve soaked it through with blood. There’s a reason Iturtians do not wear white.”
Gemynd looked down and saw that the cloak was, indeed, covered with large, red splotches of blood. “I had been worried about the rockdust and had not considered soiling it with blood,” he said, mostly to himself.
“Now that I look at it again, I rather think a Zobanite cloak looks better with blood on it,” Golath said and grinned.
“Father, Iturtians have never won a war against the Zobanites. Not ever. It is likely you and I will both die on the battlefield. Why not let a Terrene take the throne? It will appease the Zobanites and we can rule through our puppet king or queen.”
“I have ensured our victory, son,” Golath said, squaring his shoulders. He looked at Gemynd with a smile that was both wicked and resolute. “Come, I will show you.”
Disintegration: The Todor Trilogy, Book Two Page 9