Parallel (Mortisalian Saga Book 1)

by L. J. Stock

  Emptying my mind, I focused on what he called ambient sounds and started to eliminate them slowly. He was too good at this. He could move without making a sound and never had to think about it. Thankfully, the barn wasn't as compliant. Hearing the soft brush of the hay to my right, I kicked out, only to fall on my ass as Damon's shout to stop rang through the barn, my body following his request long before my mind caught up.

  Sat on my ass, stunned, it didn't take me long to realize what had happened. My mother was crouched in front of me, a moment of concern quickly washed from her features as she realized I was okay.

  “I'm going to call him.” Her tone was so matter of fact I had to fight not to roll my eyes. This wasn’t a new argument, and it was getting more frequent.

  “Mom–”

  “I won't be talked out of it, Cass. I think he has a right to know it all. Every last bit of it.”

  She was talking about Steven, of course. She'd been persuading and talking herself out of going to him for the last three weeks. At this point, I was ready to go to him myself and explain, but it was her new obsession. I'd barely opened my mouth to respond when Damon stepped in. It was probably best considering he could be more polite where I refused to be anymore.

  “Diane. I don't mean to be rude, but we've talked about this. You can't just walk in here like this. Cassandra is in training. She has to have her space and she really could have hurt you if she hadn't been listening to my voice.”

  “I'm sorry, Damon,” she said, turning up the charm and smiling sweetly. “I forgot, and it's just been playing on my mind for so long, I can't seem to make a decision. Just when I think I've got one, it's gone.”

  “Okay,” I grumbled out, rubbing my rear and trying to find if I'd damaged anything. “Do you think you could go somewhere else and think about calling Steven, while not actually doing it?”

  “You're not helping, Cassandra.”

  “I wasn't trying to, and for the record, you're not helping me either. You knew what I was doing in here, Mom.”

  “I thought you were finished,” she snapped, her tiny hand gripping at the base of her throat as though I were threatening her. She was a bigger drama queen than I ever remembered her being.

  “Obviously not.”

  “Ladies, please,” Damon roared over our escalating voices. I could tell he was trying his hardest to be polite even though he was far from calm. The vein in his neck and the rigid line in his jaw gave away his anger. It was things like these that I noticed most about him, even when I was trying my hardest not to. Training with him wasn’t helping with my attraction. Every touch, every look, every whisper seemed to slip under my skin until it was my sole focus, which was generally when he believed I was burned out.

  “Diane, when Cass is in this barn, she's training. Cass, your mother has a tough decision to make, and a little understanding wouldn't go amiss.”

  “Whose side are you on?” I mumbled under my breath.

  “Nobody’s. This isn't my battle to fight. I'm not sure why the two of you are constantly at each other’s throats most of the time. It's not my business, but you two make it impossible to ignore. Diane, please forgive me, but I am formally requesting you stay away from this building while we are working. The king has asked me to train Cass to the best of my ability and I cannot do that while you're distracting her.”

  My snort of derision only awarded me a glare from him.

  “Don't you start. When you're in here, you need to have your mind on this. You barely listen to a word I'm saying lately. Nothing’s sinking in.”

  My mother mumbled out something before politely excusing herself, leaving Damon and me glaring at one another. He was right. I had been too mentally distracted the last couple of days and I knew I could do better. I just hadn't been pushing myself like I had physically.

  “I'm sorry.”

  “Don't,” he said quietly, lowering himself to a crouch in front of me. “I was out of line in most of what I said. You do need to concentrate, though, Cass. If you're ever going to be the fighter you want to be, you need to pay attention. I can teach you anything you want to know, but I can't learn it for you.”

  “I know. My tenuous relationship with my mother is no excuse. I have to stop letting her get under my skin so much.”

  “There is an alternative.”

  I looked up at him for a moment, wondering whether the discussion about my training being a bad decision was going to rear its ugly head once again. By the look he was giving me, that wasn't the direction this was heading in. The small smile, however, told me he was going to try to win another disagreement we had going on.

  “No.”

  “You don't have to talk to him yet. Just get used to the dimension and the palace. We will have somewhere to train where no one will interrupt us on the king’s orders.”

  “No.”

  “You can't hide from him forever.” Damon laughed quietly. He tipped his head to the side and studied me, waiting for the petulance to bleed out like it always did when he brought up this particular subject.

  “Why not?” I asked, pushing up from the floor and backing away from him. “You do realize what all of this means, right? What you're all asking of me?”

  I sounded selfish, I was more than aware of that, especially when it wasn’t Damon’s motivation. Absconding my duties as part of the prophecy was a terrible argument to make, but I still felt justified in feeling like my destiny and fate were out of my hands. I'd been in some form of prison my entire life, and if I decided to recognize my part in a prophecy then it was just moving from one prison to another. I'd only just managed to shake off the last one and I needed to breathe and gather my thoughts, not follow some preordained path that had been set out for me. Learning about this new world and who my real father was hadn't sunk in at all yet, and they were asking me to make decisions on whether I was willing to risk everything I had to save a kingdom I barely knew existed. Time didn’t seem like too much to ask.

  “Of course I do. I think about it every single time I think of you. I only ask it of you because I know who you are and exactly what you're capable of.”

  “That's not fair.” I huffed, swinging from the rope that dangled from the rafters.

  “Look, I'm not saying you should make a decision here and now, Cass. I'm not even saying you have to make a decision at all. I do, however, think your father deserves to get to know you, and I think you deserve to get to know him. He was kept away from you all these years. If it had been his decision, he would have been there. I just don't understand why you're punishing him for that.”

  “I'm… I'm not.” I sighed in defeat, and turned to face him again. Releasing the rope, I planted my hands on my hips before dropping them to my sides again. “I'm embarrassed about running away like I did. I'm torn in two by guilt because the she-devil that calls herself my mother thinks that I'm choosing him over her.”

  “What do you want?”

  “Does that really matter?”

  “Absolutely. Answer the question.”

  Pushing the heels of my hands into my eyes, I tried to breathe through the interminable confusion enough to answer that question. I'd been so busy finding excuses that I hadn't stopped to find the answer to what I wanted. I'd given myself time to think and hadn't used a second of it to dig deep enough to find the direction my heart was pointing in.

  “I want to get to know him. I want to find the parts of myself that have come from him.” I could feel the tears rising as I spoke. “I want to know why me. I want to know why I spent my life thinking my parents hated me when he claims to have loved me from a distance. I want to know why he left me in that hospital for seven years, letting me believe I was crazy.”

  Damon didn't respond to my questions. Not with words or emotions. I didn’t really expect him to. They were questions aimed at my father who claimed to love me. Damon simply offered me his hand and gave me a nod of encouragement. He knew what I needed better than I did. I didn't have to make the deci
sion about my future role in this war there and then, but I did need to make peace with my father, and Damon knew that as well as I did. I just hadn't let myself see it.

  Leading me to the back of the barn, he started the hose on a slow trickle and turned to me, bringing both my hands together with his free one.

  “Your room will be ready for you. Just think of the Palace in general and you should get there. I will meet you, so don't wander.”

  “I'd get lost if I did,” I mumbled pathetically, attempting a smile as he knelt and pulled my shoes from my feet. Tying the laces together, he draped them over my shoulder, his eyes not leaving mine as though he feared disconnecting would make me change my mind.

  Slowly, he filled my palms with water and stepped away, leaving me to do the rest. Funnily enough, it came easily this time. The tickling through my body was almost instantaneous as the barn faded and a ridiculously ornate bathroom started to appear around me. My feet were up to the ankles in warm water by the time I'd fully translocated, and I'd barely had enough time to take a breath when the door opened and Melody’s beautiful face peered inside.

  “Hello again, Princess.” She giggled, stepping inside her gorgeous big, blue eyes sparkling with excitement.

  “No. I mean, I guess… I don't know… Please don't call me that.”

  The quiet giggle from the woman who couldn't have been much younger than me helped me relax a little. Her smile was bright and genuine, and for a fleeting moment I was able to catch my breath. It was the first time anyone had used the moniker with me, and I wasn’t sure I liked it all that much.

  “Being the king's daughter would certainly imply that you are, however, a princess, milady.”

  Once again, the official title seemed to rub against me like sandpaper. I'd been looked down on for so much of my life, it was almost an insult rather than the term of station it was meant to be. I stepped from the bath and offered her a bright smile, hoping it would be enough to convince her to see things my way.

  “Please, just call me Cass.”

  “But–”

  I lifted my hand to stop the rational comeback. I knew she had a job to perform, and I also understood they had protocol to follow, but if I was expected to take on this role, I was damn sure going to keep my identity. I wasn’t a sentimentalist and I didn’t have wild and outlandish dreams that I clung to. As a child, I’d been more concerned with hiding from my father than playing princesses.

  “Please?” I begged, my head tipping to the side. I just hoped it made me a little more endearing. “This is all a little new and unnerving for me. I’m sure you’d find it hard to transition to being called princess, too, right?”

  “Well, when you put it like that… Very well, Cass. If you would prefer that.”

  “I do, thank you.”

  Perching on the edge of the toilet, I pulled on my shoes, feeling slightly uncomfortable as she seemed to just stood staring at me with a look of awe on her face. Her hands were clasped in front of her as she waited patiently.

  “You don't require a dress today?”

  It was then I understood the staring. My clothes, much as they had the last time, confused but intrigued her. She was used to the understated day dresses and flamboyant evening gowns of the court. My simple yoga pants, tank top and hoodie were completely alien to her.

  “No, not today, but thank you.”

  Her shy smile flashed before she spun in the door and looked behind her. The blush on her cheeks answered any question I had. Apparently Damon had just shown up. Thankfully, my raging jealousy was tampered this time. I had no claim over him even if I wanted it. His tunnel vision didn't hurt, though. He was completely focused on me and though it was selfish, it made me feel better when he barreled in and checked me over from head to toe.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Yep, fine, thanks.”

  He almost looked relieved, only groaning when I hopped to my feet and slipped on my own wet footprints. He caught me easily and shook his head.

  “Rule number one.” He laughed, straightening me up. “Always be aware of your surroundings.”

  “Rule number one…” I mimicked him, dancing out of the way as he threw a gentle kick in my direction.

  “Come on, before I make you do laps of the palace.”

  “Yes, master,” I mocked, slipping through the door and into the two other women who were hovering outside the bathroom. Their eyes were widened in shock. “Ladies, that's called sarcasm.”

  “It's something people use when they lack the wit to retaliate,” Damon teased, but his audience nodded enthusiastically. I rolled my eyes and straightened out my clothes. I'd forgotten about that little side effect of his. Ever the charmer was Damon.

  “Lead the way, maestro,” I ordered, throwing a wink in Melody’s direction as he led me out of the room and into the wide hallway beyond.

  “Do you want to train or see the king?” Damon asked, his glance curious. He’d said I could take my time in deciding about seeing the king again, but he was giving me an opportunity. It was my choice, but he was right about me needing to smooth things over. It would be so easy to say training first and escape having to face the king, because I was in no shape to visit with him. I doubted he'd want to see me all sweaty and smelly after the workout Damon had planned for me, but I still needed to apologize. The king had been in the dark about my suffering and had tried to protect me from the moment he'd found out about me, even when he hadn't been allowed to see me himself.

  If I let myself think about it, my father had made a lot of sacrifices for me, and he may not have known me as a person, but he seemed to genuinely care. I had to bridge the gap that had been created between us. I had to be the one to make the effort this time.

  “The king first, and then training,” I answered firmly, looking to him for a reaction. Damon smiled at me with a nod, but obviously didn't dare say anything else. I was under the impression he was afraid he'd change my mind.

  Building Bridges

  Damon led me toward the same corridor we'd taken on my first visit to the palace. I felt a little awkward in my workout clothes considering everyone else in the place was dressed in the fashions of the dimension, but it was better than the dress they'd put me in the last time. Even my tennis shoes felt more comfortable on the stone floor, which made the whole experience a little less daunting in my opinion. There was still so much unfamiliarity around me, and having something from my dimension, even something as insignificant as clothing, made me feel a little more in control of the situation.

  “What are you smiling about?”

  I looked up at Damon with surprise. I hadn't even realized I was smiling, so I shrugged in response, hoping it was enough. There was no doubt in my mind that he would probably laugh at me and my version of logic if he knew what was going through my head.

  “Okay, then what are you thinking about?” he asked, his own lips curling in response.

  “Honestly?” I asked, smirking at him.

  “No, lie to me.” He snorted with an eye roll. “Yes, honestly.”

  “My shoes. I’m thinking about my tennis shoes, and how different they’re making this whole experience.”

  Damon barked out a laugh, the sound echoing from the stone walls as he threw his head back with good humor. I hadn't thought it was quite that funny, but his laughter was infectious. It was the kind of guffaw you couldn't help but join in with because it was so honest and real. As he brought his head forward, the longer strands of his hair fell into his face; his eyes were bright with amusement, and I had to fight the urge to brush the locks away from them.

  “You did ask for the truth.”

  “And yet I never expected you to say your shoes.” He chuckled. For the first time, I pushed past my own petulance and realized that these new developments with my mom and my father probably hadn’t been easy on him either. He’d been the mediator, the go-between. Damon had been carrying the burden of both sides of the fence, his loyalty split between his duty to
the king and his allegiance to me. I needed to give him a break.

  “Until you've worn those bricks they call shoes here, you have no room to judge, Mister,” I answered, trying to keep the mood light.

  “I'll just take your word for it,” he shot back at me, stopping long before the room we’d been in the last time. “Wait here for a moment and I’ll let him know that you’re here.”

  “What? No surprise? You're no fun, Damon,” I taunted, bouncing on the balls of my feet with nervous energy, my thumb already making its way to my lips so I could chew on the cuticles.

  “He's in a cabinet meeting. Believe me, surprising him wouldn't be a good thing right now.”

  “Well, if he's busy,” I said, throwing my thumb past my mouth and over my shoulder, before turning and making out like I was walking away. “Shouldn't we...”

  “Oh no you don’t,” Damon replied, his hand circling the top of my arm gently and tugging me back. “Valiant effort there, but he told me to interrupt what he was doing should you choose to grace us with your presence.”

  “It was worth a shot,” I mumbled impishly, shrugging. Releasing my arm, he rolled his eyes playfully while I leaned against the wall between two tapestries and shooed him with my hands. “Go. I'll wait here, I promise.”

  Shaking his head with amusement, Damon turned and approached the room. He entered without knocking, slipping through the narrow space he’d made for himself, before closing the door behind him, leaving me alone with nothing but the granite walls. I looked around the corridor. Being less nervous than the last time I was here, I took my time taking in the draperies and tapestries that adorned the walls.

  They were beautifully intricate. Each one seemed to be a scene from what I imagined was the past. Some of them fit the story Acantha had told me that first night, and when I studied one with two regal-looking guys standing side by side, one in silver armor and the other in dark gunmetal gray, I realized I was looking at what started the whole thing: King Layland and his brother, Thánatos – two siblings divided by greed and a quest for power.