Someday I'll Be Redeemed

by Kelly Blanchard

  Asalda stopped and stared after him then thinned her lips and hastened to catch up with him—her heeled shoes clicking on the marble floor. “You were the one who got her out.” The only response was the slightest nod from Lorrek, and the corner of her eyes twitched with disgust. “Do you have any idea what you could have done—the danger you put everyone in?”

  “Apparently not as much danger as you would like to believe. I understand Roskelem has finally reached his goal of gaining magic, and I felt another magic user's presence awaken, so I can only assume that was Radella. Now, none of that concerns me, but I would very much like to know what exactly is happening behind those doors?” He pointed to the doors they now stood before—the very doors Skelton and Adonis had pointed out before.

  She hesitated at first—obvious discomfort crossing her features before she smoothed them out and put on a mask of confidence. “Nothing, Prince Lorrek—at least nothing that concerns you.”

  Lorrek lifted his brows then a smile spread across his face. Shaking his head, he clicked his tongue as he advanced on Asalda. “You see, Milady, I think that you are wrong. I believe much is happening beyond those doors that concerns not only me but so many others you won't even acknowledge.”

  “You have no idea what you're talking about.” Asalda refused to back down even as Lorrek came to stand a hair away from her. She stared up into his eyes—unwilling to back down.

  Lorrek observed her—recognized her stubbornness. He knew the more he pushed, the more she would close up, but he had the advantage from his many travels in the magic realm during his stay here. He stepped back then circled her. “You say I do not know of what I speak. I say you are wrong, and here is why. Behind that door you escort girls who are pregnant, but they don't want the child—either because it was unplanned or is an inconvenience. No matter, you offer a solution and take the child from her womb. Oh, she thinks the child might have been aborted, and that is what you allow her to believe. However, it is not, is it?” He tilted his head to the side.

  He observed Asalda swallow, and he knew he was right, so he went on, “It is still alive—to be raised in the tubes several levels below ground. When they are mature enough to live and breathe on their own, you start training them into fighters, and those fighters become Guardians. Each Guardian is given a suit of modern armor that is somehow fueled with magic, which not only gives them one unique ability, but it also creates a void around them, so any user would not recognize them as human. However, the one thing you fail to realize is that we users not only recognize the difference between humans and animals, but even technology has a presence—which you have negated when you created a void in the Guardians.” He came around to stand in front of her again. “You see, Milady, by simply trying to hide what they were for us, you succeeded in drawing our attention straight to them.”

  Asalda laughed. “Prince Lorrek, I do not know where you are coming up with such wild assumptions—”

  “Perhaps because I spoke with a Guardian—face-to-face?” Lorrek lifted his brows then cracked a smile at Asalda's surprise. “Oh, yes, I spoke with one, and he told me something unusual. He told me he was not human—that that was a higher designation, which Guardians cannot achieve. Now,” he folded his arms, “I know this is not a rumor told among the ranks of hard training soldiers, but rather it is the words drilled into their minds at a very young age from their superiors. You told them they were not human. You and all your minions and fellow masterminds convinced them of that. However, none of this concerns me.” Lorrek shook his head and stepped back—one arm tucked behind his back while his other hand came to his chin in a thoughtful pose.

  He shot Asalda another look. “What of those children who proved lacking in fighting spirit? The weaker—the more creative? What did you do to them? Surely they did not serve your purpose, and you Jechorians do not seem very forgiving if things do not go as planned.” He saw the regret in Asalda's eyes and the way she stepped back and tried to avoid his eye contact, but his overbearing presence when he moved toward her again forced her to look back at him. He leaned close to her ear and spoke in a low but certain voice. “You killed them, didn't you? Just as you claimed to have done when you first saved them from their parents.”

  “They had no place here, and they would not have fit in society if we had tried to place them there. They grew up here. This is all they knew. They couldn't have learned to live a normal life—not after their upbringing.”

  Furious that he had been right about the fate that awaited the non-fighters among the children, Lorrek clenched his fists and whipped around back toward the door. He wanted nothing more than to blast down that door and bring the entire operation crashing down, but he knew all the unborn children living off the systems would surely die, and he could not have that blood on his hands.

  Promising himself to bring down the Guardian Program at some other time, Lorrek took a cleansing breath then looked over his shoulder to Asalda. “The women who give you their children—where exactly do they come from?”

  The question caught Asalda off guard, but she smoothed out her features. “Our program is promoted throughout the city, but we have monitors on every woman here in this building in the magic infusion/extraction program. If any of them becomes pregnant, we urge them to take part in our abortion program because infusing or extracting magic from the mother can have dire consequences to the unborn.”

  “You urge or you insist that the mothers take part in the program?” Lorrek lifted his brows, but Asalda never answered. He saw the way her eyes narrowed, deep in thought, trying to find a way to answer the question without admitting the truth, but that was all Lorrek needed. He turned to face her completely. “You would take the children against their will.” Disgusted, he brushed past her.

  “It is best for the child and the mother!”

  He dismissed her comment with a wave of his hand and magicked away. He had much to consider.

  Segment 16

  Several weeks had passed since Lorrek had confronted Asalda and since Vixen had left Jechorm. Under Lorrek's strict supervision, Loroth continued the operations of having his magic extracted. They saw little improvement, and Lorrek mused whether or not it was morally right to fuel the Guardians with Loroth's magic even though it was meant to save him.

  Now that Roskelem had magic, Verddra requested that Lorrek train him in the proper use of the power. When Lorrek asked why she couldn't, she merely smiled and said, “I have much catching up to do with my daughter.” Lorrek had only glared at her as she walked away. He had seen little of Radella, and he wasn't sure how he would react the next time he saw her. After all, she had used him to get her mother's attention, and she had also nearly killed Vixen and Inecha to obtain her goal.

  Unwilling to contemplate this much further, Lorrek turned his attention to Roskelem who sat on the floor before him trying to light the simple candle he held in his hands. The king of Serhon narrowed his eyes as he glared at the unscathed sculpture of wax with its untouched wick. No flame conjured on the wick.

  With a frustrated growl, Roskelem threw his hands in the air. “Why is this so hard?” At the same time, glass on the desk scattered, startling him, but then he realized he had done that. He motioned to the broken glass. “And why is that so easy?”

  “It is easier to create destruction than it is to create life although, surprisingly, it is difficult to kill with magic.”

  Roskelem grunted as he pushed himself to his feet then looked down at Lorrek. “There are plenty of killing spells. I found a book of spells.” He motioned to a book on the desk. “I've been studying them, trying to perfect them.”

  “A book of spells?” Lorrek frowned as his eyes settled upon the ancient book. The last thing they needed was an untrained sorcerer muttering half-correct spells and creating chaos. Lorrek cleared his throat as he stood as well. “King Roskelem, while I respect you greatly, I ask you not to explore spells until you have mastered the basics of magic. Otherwise, the results may be
devastating.”

  “You don't think I can control myself.”

  Sensing the accusation behind those words, Lorrek hesitated but then locked eyes with Roskelem. “You can't.” He saw the ire rising in the king's eyes, so he added, “But you will. However, if you don't mind, I must go and speak with my...brother.” He thought of Therth but knew Roskelem thought Therth was Theran. No need to correct that now.

  “Ah yes, Theran.” Roskelem nodded as he went to his desk and looked at the pieces of glass scattered thereon. He often thought upon Atheta's insistence that she did not wish to marry Prince Theran, yet he had seen the two of them in the halls of Jechorm. They seemed happy and in love. Why had she changed her mind? Or had she changed it back again? He knew not, but he supposed Lorrek might know. “I've been meaning to ask. Do you believe the marriage between your brother and my daughter should...proceed?” He glanced back at Lorrek, and the prince of Cuskelom frowned.

  What a complicated question he had asked, and Roskelem had no idea. Nevertheless, Lorrek thinned his lips as he contemplated his answer. He moved about the room, reflecting on Therth and Atheta's close interaction he had observed during his stay here. They walked hand-in-hand and always sat near each other. Therth would lean in and whisper something to her, and Atheta would laugh. They were happy, and there was a glow about Atheta as though she had finally embraced happiness.

  This puzzled Lorrek because he had seen happy couples before, but this was different. He'd seen that glow before but only a few times, and he tried to pinpoint the exact times he saw it.

  Then it hit him, and Lorrek stilled—trying to grasp the full meaning of this.

  He completely forgot about Roskelem's question. He needed to speak with Atheta, but he knew he couldn't leave without saying something to the king. Snapping his gaze back to the confused Roskelem, Lorrek forced his tongue to form words. “I...don't know, but Your Majesty, I'm needed elsewhere. If you would excuse me...” He didn't wait for a response but magicked away.

  Lorrek reappeared in front of Atheta, who sat in the cafeteria with Therth and Loroth, enjoying their morning meal. His sudden appearance startled all of them, but Lorrek looked at the three of them then settled his eyes on Atheta as he grabbed her wrist. “We need to talk.”

  Atheta opened her mouth to protest—her eyes darting over to Therth, uncertain, but Lorrek magicked them out of the cafeteria and into his chambers.

  Lorrek released her hand and stepped back, and Atheta stumbled—gripping the nearest chair for balance. “What is the purpose of this?” She shot Lorrek a glare then finally straightened into the regal posture of a princess.

  “You're pregnant.”

  Atheta's face crumpled into confusion, and her hands went to her stomach. “Pardon?” She watched Lorrek pace before her.

  “You're pregnant, Princess Atheta, and I can only assume Therth is the father.”

  She bowed her head, embarrassed that he had found them out. “How do you know I am with child?” She couldn't believe she just said that, but still, she straightened her back and brought her hand to her flat stomach as she watched Lorrek.

  He gave her some inconclusive gestures while he struggled with an explanation but finally halted his pacing at a chair and gripped the back of it as he leaned forward, locking eyes with Atheta across the room. “Magic. I can sense the child's presence already.”

  Her eyes widened, and a small smile crept over her face as she looked down at her stomach—her hand still cradling it. “That's...that's wonderful news.”

  Lorrek shook his head as he gripped the back of the chair harder. “No—no it's not. Not here.”

  “What do you mean?” She narrowed her eyes.

  Lorrek stilled and for a long moment stared at her. He thought of numerous ways to tell her the truth about the Guardians and how her child was destined to be among their rank if she stayed here, but he didn't feel he had time to explain how he knew all that. “You have to trust me. I am not the only one who can sense the child, and others will want to take it.”

  “Why would anyone want to take my child?”

  “Perhaps because the baby would be the child of a princess and a supposed prince?” There was more, but Lorrek didn’t have time to explain.

  Outside the room Roskelem halted when he heard the last bit of conversation from inside Prince Lorrek's room. He had come to show Lorrek that he had successfully lit the candle, but hearing his daughter's voice inside the room caused him to stop outside and listen in.

  “That is ridiculous.” Atheta laughed—a sarcastic sound. “No one would want our child. No one can take it from us!”

  “You don't understand, Princess Atheta,” Lorrek sounded panicked and stressed. “The Jechorians will take it with or without your permission.”

  “Only if you tell them I am expecting!”

  Roskelem thinned his eyes and tightened his fists when he heard his daughter say this. She was always the most proper of all his children—never getting into trouble but always doing as she was told. Now though, to hear that she had broken her betrothal vows to Prince Theran—with Prince Lorrek no less—stirred disgust in Roskelem. He remembered how she had tried to tell him earlier that she did not love Theran, but he hadn't listened. Maybe if he had, she wouldn't have gone this far with Lorrek.

  However, Lorrek spoke, so Roskelem leaned closer to the door to hear. “They will find out whether or not I say anything, and I would never do that because I would not want any such thing to happen to the child. Why do you think I am telling you now? You need to get out of here—leave.”

  “What of my father?” Roskelem held his breath when he heard Atheta inquire about him.

  “He is none of your concern. He has made his own choices, and if you stay here a moment longer, you are risking the life of the child—not to mention your own.”

  Roskelem had heard enough. Using his newfound powers, he stepped back and focused on the door blasting it off the hinges into the room.

  Atheta cried out in surprise and lifted her hands to shield herself, but Lorrek magicked in front of her and caught the broken door with magic. Once he set it aside, he saw the silhouette of the small figure of King Roskelem standing in the doorway, and Lorrek felt dread creep into his bones as he straightened his posture—knowing full well that Roskelem had overheard some of the conversation.

  Lorrek nodded to him. “King Roskelem.”

  The king's eyes tore away from his daughter, who stood—still crouched in a defensive stance—half a step behind Lorrek, and then he looked at the prince. “How dare you?”

  “Papa?” Atheta's timid voice sounded delicate in the tension of the room.

  Roskelem ignored her but kept his eyes firmly locked on Lorrek as he stepped into the room. “How dare you dishonor both our families this way?”

  “Papa, I can explain—” Atheta tried to interject.

  “Explain?” Roskelem laughed. “All you need to do is answer one question. Did you consent to intercourse with Prince Lorrek?”

  Puzzled, Atheta looked between Lorrek and her father. “No, Father, it's not—”

  “Silence!” Roskelem shot her a glare and with it, a blast of furious magic.

  Lorrek stepped between her and the blast and let it go around his force shield. The blast knocked over the chairs and tables in the room on either side of him. Once it had past, Lorrek shook his head. “I will not let you harm her because of your own foolishness!” He thrust out his hand and blasted Roskelem back.

  “Papa!” Atheta screamed and tried to go to him, but Lorrek snatched her wrist and shoved her behind the desk.

  “Stay here and stay down.”

  She had never seen that black look in his eyes or heard that hollow tone of his voice, but she knew better than to argue, so she nodded.

  Straightening, Lorrek turned to Roskelem only to get slammed back into a wall with a blast of raw magic. Before Lorrek had a chance to climb to his feet, Roskelem conjured a huge fiery blue orb and slammed it into the pr
ince of Cuskelom—sending him further into the wall and scorching his tunic, burning his chest.

  “How dare you!” Roskelem's bellowing voice sounded over the chaos as he blasted Lorrek again and again. “How dare you force yourself upon Atheta? And now you wish to hide your wrongful deed by forcing her to run?” He slammed Lorrek again with another powerful blast, knocking him through a wall.

  Lorrek cried out and wrapped a spell of invisibility around himself, but he didn't move. Roskelem's magic was too raw and completely uncontrolled. Although Lorrek knew he was considered to be one of the most powerful sorcerers of all the realms, he knew he was no match to someone who had absolutely no control over their power. He knew he could outlast them in a fight though every strike he took would require deep and intensive healing later, but his own well-being wasn't his concern. He kept an eye on Atheta and sensed her distress growing, and he knew that was unsafe for both mother and child.

  He had to get Roskelem under control.

  Dropping the cloak of invisibility, Lorrek dove for Roskelem with a shout, only to inhale sharply when he was run through with a magically conjured sword.

  <~>~<~>~<~>

  In the cafeteria talking with Therth, Loroth gasped and doubled over, clutching his chest as a fiery pain shot through him.

  Therth was on his feet at once and at his brother's side. “Lo? What is it?”

  Shoving Therth aside, Loroth swept a scan of magic over himself to ensure the pain wasn't in his own body, and when he confirmed this, he frowned and reached across the bond he shared with Lorrek. Never before had he felt such pain coming from his cousin because Lorrek was powerful enough to shield him from any pain, but this time it was as if the floodgates had opened, and Loroth felt the unspeakable agony his cousin suffered. “Lorrek!” He shoved away from the table and headed out of the cafeteria—using the open bond like a compass to find his cousin.