Enchantress Sacrifice

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Enchantress Sacrifice Page 7

by Denice Hughes Lewis

Bryntar turns away, wiping her tears.

  I grasp his hand. “Please do not leave me.”

  Taroc’s eyes shine. “Elandra. You are like my own. Fulfill your destiny. You have everything you need within your heart.”

  He takes his last breath. The small amount of light that remains slowly drains from his hair.

  I watch, helpless. Suddenly a flash of light binds us together, shutting out all else. Taroc smiles and touches the middle of my forehead with a finger. “You will be the strongest Enchantress ever born.” He closes his eyes. His peace and love sweep through me. Our lights merge, stinging in brilliance. The only father I have ever known slowly fades before my eyes.

  Fourteen: The Learning

  The light dissolves. My soul shrivels. Bryntar’s screech sounds like a whisper. All feeling falls away to emptiness, a space with no pain or guilt or loss.

  “Elandra?” Bryntar’s hoarse voice filters from a lifetime ago.

  I float in darkness.

  Daniel’s deep voice sooths from far, far away. “She’s in shock.”

  An unclear awareness intrudes. Of warm blankets, fumbling hands, screeching metal. Then I drift into a lovely void of nothing. At the soft edge of consciousness are intangible words, prodding, yet unreachable.

  Nothingness cannot last. Corrupted by muddled dreams and searing nightmares, I fight towers of ice, vicious beasts, pools of bubbling fire.

  Compresses cool my burning body. I stay distanced in my refuge and ignore the voices of concern that urge me to wake. Until Taroc’s words spring into my knowing. I was stupid to think I would succeed in becoming normal.

  There is a way to rid myself of being an Enchantress?

  My eyes drag open to sun shining high above. Now that I am in this forbidden study, I do not want to remain. Unbalance and emptiness pour through me. I breathe, nose

  quivering with the odor of dust and damp dirt. And the faint scent of Taroc. My throat tightens and I squeeze my eyes shut to stop the tears.

  I am responsible for his death.

  I remember his last moments, his touch on my forehead. Does he share my body? My mind searches, relieved when it is only me inside. With greater light and power. Dear, dear father.

  Slight thuds catch my attention. Daniel sits before a jumbled stack of books. He tosses one aside. “Stupid books.” He leafs through the pages of another, his urgency and frustration increasing.

  Taroc’s secret books. “Those books do not belong to you.”

  He jumps up. “Jeez, you scared me.” Guilt sweeps through him.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “Bryntar will be stoked.”

  “Stoked?”

  “Excited that you’re awake. I thought she’d go bananas with worry.”

  “What is bananas?”

  “Never mind. She’s worked night and day on the damage to the outer walls.”

  “Is she all right?”

  “Guess so. She hasn’t stopped or talked since—”

  I interrupt him, worried now. “How long?”

  “Three days.”

  Three days? I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, tangling in a jade dressing gown. Where did this come from? I have never worn anything that fits my curves or caresses my skin in such softness. Blushing under Daniel’s gaze, annoyance surges through me. I grab a blanket and stand up, reeling, self-conscious and totally awkward.

  He catches me and whispers in my ear. “Easy does it.”

  My treacherous body tingles with his touch. It does not seem right that I feel anything but the misery of loss. “I need to see her.”

  “Water first.” He hands me a cup.

  Drinking refreshes me and I pad out of the study.

  Daniel catches up. He does not try to hide his limp.

  “Does your leg hurt?” I know the answer, but not whether he realizes my ability to feel his pain.

  He stiffens. “Yeah. Don’t know if I’ll walk without a limp.”

  Sorrow strikes me as the shame of his apparent flaw surges within him.

  “You are alive.”

  “Big deal.”

  “You want to die?”

  He turns away.

  His bitterness, guilt and frustration fill me. Along with a deeper feeling I do not understand, a warmth in my body that is hard to ignore. He feels it too. I gaze at his determined face, knowing he is deliberately creating an empty hole between us.

  “Let’s go,” he says.

  We creep around gaps in the once-covered ground. With the cave walls and floors exposed, the controlled warmth has disappeared. I shiver. Ruin meets us at every turn.

  A pounding on walls catches my attention. Bryntar.

  I turn down a long corridor toward the sound, longing to see her. I dread passing the gardens. My heart crashes as each step drags slower and slower, closer and closer. How can I bear to look?

  I stop. Shake in sick horror, unable to speak. My beloved plants and trees lie in tangled destruction. My breath stops. It does not matter that the light shines from above. I fall to the dirt. Utter despair fills me as the songs, giggles and whispers of the flowers fade into memory.

  The ground aches and I with it.

  “Some can be saved and replanted,” Daniel says.

  His earnest look gives me hope.

  “Thank you.”

  Bryntar thumps in and encloses me in her arms. “My Elandra.”

  I clench her tightly.

  She pats my back. “This is not your fault.”

  I stare into her eyes. “If I was not born Taroc would still be alive.”

  “No control over birth.”

  “Do I control my destiny? Tell me how to become normal, Bryntar.”

  Shock ripples across her face.

  Daniel laughs. “You can’t change into something else.”

  I scowl at him. “How can you say that after all you have seen?”

  He frowns. “How can I believe anything? Maybe you’ve drugged me. I’m hallucinating and you’re a bunch of loonies keeping me against my will. Or I’m in some friggin’ nightmare.” Anger flushes his face. Breathing hard, he turns away and begins replanting flowers.

  His resentment and confusion flow into me. I sweep them aside, determined to get answers from Bryntar. “Taroc spoke of becoming normal. Is there some place to do this? Tell me.”

  Bryntar turns away. “No.”

  I grab her arm. “You would rather watch me die at the hands of Aru?”

  Bryntar shakes her head. “Accept your destiny.”

  “Please, Bryntar. I do not want to be an Enchantress.”

  “Must love who you are.”

  “If I was normal, Aru would have no reason to want me.”

  Steam furls out of her nose. “Aru destroy anyway. You are only hope.”

  “Everyone on this island wants me dead.”

  Determination steels her eyes. “Their ignorance.”

  My skin flashes white-hot.

  Bryntar hisses. “Control anger.”

  “How do I do that?”

  “Understand the reason.”

  I fight the rage pounding within me. If I cannot control my emotions, how can I control my life? “Without the ability to choose my destiny, I have no life, Bryntar.”

  Her eyes soften. “Accept power to change all.”

  I ignore the growing gap between us. “If there is something that will make me normal, I have to know what it is.”

  “Too dangerous under Ice Mountains. I forbid it.”

  Bryntar has never denied me anything. I take her claws in my hands and plead. “Where is it?”

  She says nothing.

  “If you will not help, I will search alone.”

  “Never find.”

  “Maybe she has a good reason not to tell you,” Daniel says. “Why go on some kind of crazy quest?”

  I glare at him. “Tell me, Bryntar.”

  “No.” Her dread strikes my nerves. She hisses and her voice cracks. “I died there.” She
thumps away.

  Shocked and ready to explode all at the same time, I cannot move.

  Daniel hands me a piece of undamaged fruit. “Here.”

  His thoughtfulness breaks my control. Tears drip silently as I stare at the perfect ruby fruit in my hand. I take a bite with little delight in the juicy sweetness.

  I touch his arm and we both shiver. “Do you know what she means?”

  Indecision flickers within him. “Not really.”

  “I need to know the truth.”

  “Maybe it’s in Taroc’s journal.”

  Could it be? Excited, I jump up and hurry away.

  Daniel rushes to catch up. “It wasn’t there when we straightened the study.”

  “He hid the book in a safe place.”

  I run, trying to wipe out the distant pounding that echoes Bryntar’s pain. She knows it is unnecessary to repair the cave. Aru can destroy anything at will. When it is time to destroy the island and me, there will be no cave, no library and no record that anything ever existed here.

  If I change, can everything be different?

  I hurry through the empty doorway to the study and turn to Daniel. “I was never allowed here. Do you have any ideas of where he might have hidden the book?”

  “Leave it alone. We’re in enough trouble.”

  I whirl on him. “There is no beast waiting to take your life.” Sparks crackle from my hair.

  He jumps backward, scowling and a bit afraid of me. “Right, only an island of natives. You think I like being a prisoner?”

  “You are here because it is the safest place.”

  “According to you.”

  “Is that why you were looking through Taroc’s books when I woke up?”

  “They’re all in some strange language. I can’t find any maps. It’s like this island is in a crazy time warp. Like it doesn’t exist in the real world. I have to get home.”

  “Where is home?”

  “Florida.”

  “How can you leave?”

  “I don’t know. Build a raft or a sailboat. Anything to get away from here.”

  “Impossible.”

  “Nothing is impossible if you want it bad enough. You don’t understand. My mom and little sister will think we’re all dead. They need to know I’m alive. They need me.”

  I block out the feelings that rip through him. “I am sorry.”

  His distaste and irritation hit my every nerve. “Do you think I like knowing my life rests with a . . .?”

  Heat rises to my face. “With a what? A monster?”

  “A girl.”

  “I am an Enchantress.”

  “Whatever. It will take courage to face Aru.”

  I gasp, ignoring the thought that he speaks the truth.

  “Don’t think I’ll help you, either. I want to get off this stupid island.” He stalks out of the room.

  Daniel cannot possibly know the burden of what it means to be me. Refusing to think about him, I focus on finding Taroc’s book.

  Isolation soaks into me once again.

  Fifteen: The Writing

  I slowly turn in a circle. Where would Taroc hide his treasured book? Since Daniel said he looked at the books on the floor, I dismiss them. Broken bookcases and twisted metal walls only cover stone and dirt.

  I slump on the bed. Thoughts about Taroc and his life filter into my mind. He spent years of loneliness until he met Bryntar. He would have finished reading the books in the library in a few years. What else did he do with his time? What if he wrote more than one book? He would need a larger hiding place.

  My eyes dart around the study. Unless Taroc buried the books, he has only one place that offers the space and protection, his huge bed. I get on my knees and run my fingers along the smooth frame of dark wood. Crawling around it, my heart thumps in my throat. On one side of the bed there is a small button. When I press it a panel slides open to display hundreds of books.

  The idea of living a thousand years has meant little to me until now. Hesitating and feeling like an invader, I open the cover of the top book. Inside is a notation—The End. My hands tremble knowing I will soon have the answers I crave.

  Someday, all of Taroc’s words will be etched in my mind. Now, I want to find the diary written when he and Bryntar met. She mentioned nine hundred seasons on our trip home. Book after book passes through my hands until I find the one I want.

  My twitchy fingers turn the pages of yellowed parchment. I scan the heavy, precise handwriting. Taroc’s loneliness echoes mine. Then his regret changes. I immerse myself in his story.

  “After painstaking experiments with metal, I finished forging armor to shield me from Aru. It was my first scouting excursion away from the caverns in a long time. Stupidity caused me to wound my leg. I paid no attention to the fact that someone tracked my footprints. Hiding under a rocky ledge to attend to the cut, Bryntar discovered me. She registered great surprise when she saw me healing the wound. I had never encountered a female Ice Lord and gasped at her stunning beauty. Raven hair as wild as a summer storm framed high cheekbones and eyes to rival the sky. Even the tint of purple skin enhanced her loveliness.”

  Bryntar was an Ice Lord?

  “You do not look like a myth,” she said.

  “I laughed. She raised the sharp blade in her hand. I had lived a hundred seasons alone and with fear. Yet, I jumped up and bared my chest, ripping off my armor. “Kill me and take the power you think it will give you, savage. It is not as if I have a life to look forward to living.”

  The lump in my throat makes it hard to swallow when I realize he felt as I do. Suddenly, the handwriting changes to a flowing script and a thrill courses through me knowing it must be Bryntar’s.

  “I was born warrior. Feared little. Taroc looked like any male, but for the turban and armor. I lowered my weapon. Stories of Enchanters inhabiting my island were part of our culture. I even wanted to meet one as a child.

  “He stood there. Arrogant. Powerful. No different from Ice Lords. Yet the intelligence in his face captured my heart. Breathing stopped as our souls spoke to each other. There could be no other for me. Not even my impending marriage could interfere. Planned since birth, I had no desire to be Queen. Nor did I like the Ice Lord King who swore his love. The freedom to live with a man of my choice intoxicated me.

  “Taroc helped me plan my accidental death, a cliff edge overlooking the northern ocean. My people knew of the sea creatures and never swam there. I hid clothes to take with me. My family died many years earlier in an avalanche. No one ever knew when they saw me fall that Taroc was in the water, ready to save me.”

  Her words shiver through me along with a great sadness. I will never know that kind of love. Shutting that desire deep inside, I skip pages.

  The handwriting changes to Taroc’s.

  “It never occurred to me that there might be a way of getting rid of my powers, to have a chance of becoming normal, rather than living a thousand seasons alone. Until I found a parable hidden in ancient writings. It told of a misty lagoon deep inside the Ice Mountains that transformed matter by using desire.

  “Bryntar knew of the tunnel leading into the interior of the Ice Mountains. My fear of being discovered by Aru disappeared with new hope. I believed my dearest was more excited than I. We would live out our lives together. What have I done to deserve such unselfish love?”

  I scan the words faster.

  “We have worked hard to prepare for the strenuous trip. We must avoid the Kepyrs. Care has to be taken to evade the Ice Lords that patrol the mountains. I built a canoe to take us along the shoreline for greater safety.

  “When we return, I will cover the walls of these dank caverns for my beautiful Bryntar. She deserves so much more than living underground with me. I am still in awe that she would give up her life as an Ice Lord Queen to be with me.”

  I swallow the lump in my throat and carefully turn the pages. No maps or charts indicate a way to find the lagoon. Only a long passage when they reach the
misty pool. These words are difficult to read, as if smeared by water. My fingers touch tiny, rough grains. I smell them. Salt.

  “What a fool I am. My Bryntar. Gone. GONE. She does not blame me. How can she be grateful? I would kill myself, but cannot leave her now. She shed tears of joy to know she would live as long as I. An angel in the body of a monster. I curse myself.”

  His emotions tear through me. I cannot stop reading.

  “In the event that an Enchanter follows in my footsteps, I record what happened. I shall not record how to find the lagoon or what we encountered during our journey.

  “If any Enchanter reads this, beware. Accept your destiny with courage. Leave the waters unmolested or risk the sacrifice that will be made.”

  His words of warning make no impact. Frantic, I strain to decipher the fading script.

  “Ready to immerse myself and change my life, I gazed at the silver mist. It hovered over the charmed water, the atmosphere sacred. My heart pounded.

  “Bryntar stood behind me under an overhang of blue ice. I removed the shirt of armor and lifted a foot to step into the lagoon. A roar pierced the stillness, bursting into my ears. Aru. Ice shattered like a thousand flying birds. A chunk smashed into Bryntar. She screamed, sprawling on the ice. I raced to her and cradled her bleeding head in my arms.

  “Only silence greeted me, but I could feel her heart beating against my chest. Her eyes flickered open and she said, “Too late . . . for me. Enter the waters, my love.”

  “Tears dripped down my face as I entreated her to stay with me. She was silent, her wounds too severe for my abilities. Desperate, I carried her to the lagoon and placed her into the water without touching the liquid myself. There was no way of knowing if I could help. I had to try.

  “I placed my hands behind her neck, ignoring the profusion of blood. The waters roiled. Frigid mist consumed us. I thought of nothing except healing Bryntar and my desire that she never leave me. That was my mistake, my selfishness in wanting her to live as long as I would.

  “Mist condensed, writhing as if alive. I could see nothing, but did not break contact with Bryntar. Cool, healing energy surged from me into her, more than I had ever known.

  “Would I have continued if I had known what was to come? Never.

 

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