“Pax, should you find her, should you get to speak to Rebekah . . . please let her know I am out here and concerned.”
Pax looked up at Jared and studied him with his luminous eyes. He nodded once to the half-breed and then crossed the street, motioning for Jared to get moving. They moved swiftly under the arch and down the wide alley. When they approached the gate, Pax moved off to the side and Jared took point. Jared quickly received a brush off, as he figured he would. The second guard said he would check, though.
Just then two new guards arrived. They opened up the gate to let the booth guards in and took their place. Unbeknownst to any of them, a shifting shadow had slipped in during the transition. Jared saw Pax on the other side of the gate, moving swiftly ahead of the guards. The messenger stopped in front of the door and waited. The guards opened it, entered, and a wisp followed.
Pax didn’t drop his shroud until he was well into the building. He knew that being detected entering the building would quickly get him thrown out. Now, however, he was safe, for if he was found out now he could use his status to talk his way out of trouble. The guards Pax had followed had gone down a hall which led to a descending staircase. The messenger didn’t bother to follow them, figuring they were headed to a tunnel connecting the healer's house to the barracks or the castle or any number of staff rooms. Thus Pax started his search on the first floor.
It took nearly an hour for Pax to search the first and second floor. At this time of night, he didn’t encounter many non-patients. There seemed to be at least one caregiver on each floor, though he’d been able to dodge past each of them in the course of his search. On the second floor he took the opportunity to talk with one of the patients he found awake. The elderly gentleman was quite helpful.
“The royal healers are actually on the top floors,” he said with deep breaths. “The first three main floors are for commoner use; we get all the practicing healers. The next two floors are for special cases and terminal cases they are studying. The sixth floor is for research. The royal rooms begin on the seventh. They have a tower there, as well.”
Pax thanked the informative man and then exited the room. The messenger paused, uncertain about his next move. He had no doubt the gentleman’s information was correct; thus he could skip several floors. In addition, now that he had a better understanding of the layout, he could talk in a more educated manner with the caregivers and get specific directions. This idea caused him to pause.
Pax had never felt such an uncertainty. There had been plenty of times he’d not trusted those in authority; however, this time whenever he thought of speaking to somebody with any authority he became uneasy. Absentmindedly Pax reached down into his message bag. There his hand found the sealed note given to him by Yero and the Sword Bearer. When he pulled it out, he stared intently at the seal.
The images within the seal seemed to now have a faint glow. The wax itself was still cool to the touch and quite solid. There wasn’t anything special about the wax, yet each of the symbols was shining. Then one of the crests flared briefly. Pax held tight to the letter, unsure of what he had just seen. Then two heartbeats later, the same symbol flashed again.
Pax looked up and over in the direction the icon was aligned with. Down the hall he saw several more doors. He had just come from this direction; they were rooms he had already searched. Pax also knew one of them led to a stairwell. Curious, he set off toward it. After a few heartbeats a new crest pulsed with light. Though it was different, it was still the symbol pointing down the hall in the direction he was walking. When he reached the stairwell door, the crest on the wax nearest it pulsed.
Pax now understood the meaning of the light; it was guiding him. The nisse in all of his years within this world between had never seen anything like it. Never before had any of his parcels tried to deliver themselves.
Pax was grinning as he opened the door. When he stepped into the stairwell, he was greeted with a new sensation: the letter got warmer. Though it was a minute increase in temperature, it was enough for him to feel it through his thin leather gloves. As he felt over the letter, the crest closest to the stairs leading up flashed. Confident in what he was to do Pax began to mount the stairs.
The warmth of the letter increased ever so slightly with each new floor. The icons led him further up the stairs until he reached the topmost floor. Pax did a quick calculation and realized he’d gone straight to the seventh floor. He opened the door and entered another hallway. He was guided down this hallway to another door that led into another stairwell. This stairwell spiraled up in a continuous curve. The nisse messenger realized he must have reached the tower the elderly man had spoken of. Once again Pax climbed the steps.
Every now and then the stairs passed a door on the right. Pax, however, didn’t go in any of these doors, as the crests did not indicate he should. He passed four doors thusly. The fifth door was at the top of the tower. Pax entered it and found himself in a curved hallway. The door he exited was at the far end of it, with two more doors visible from this position. As he began to walk slowly forward, the warmth and glow of the seal increased. He passed the first door and saw the end of the hallway with a final door at the very end. Even without the urging of the letter, Pax felt drawn to that door.
Abandoning any pretense of stealth, he moved quickly toward the door. The door was unlocked, so he entered without any preamble. There he found the resting form of Rebekah. She was not resting well. Her breathing was shallow; her skin was clammy and hot. Not even the cool night air coming in from the open window seemed enough to make her comfortable.
Pax approached her with the intention of leaving the letter under her hand. However, as he placed it there, a mighty wind swept through the room. Pax was pushed back, and Rebekah’s hand gripped the letter tightly. Her body seemed to alight with flame. Pax thought he saw a fox near her head. As suddenly as it began, it was over.
Rebekah opened her eyes and took a deep breath. The letter dropped out of her hand and onto the floor. Pax rushed forward to pick it up. As he was standing up to hand it back, their eyes locked. Rebekah smiled and seemed about to speak when she suddenly grabbed her abdomen and let out a cry of pain that chilled Pax’s blood. The messenger backed up, clutching the letter. He looked around, trying to figure out what to do. Panic was just starting to rise up within him when a young elf woman ran into the room.
Alawnwee didn’t notice Pax, and the messenger didn’t draw attention to himself. The nisse merely watched as the elf healer saw to the distressed Rebekah. Alawnwee had learned a great deal more while under the supervision of doctor Elam. She had lost a lot of her nervous habits when dealing with patients and was now able to act quickly and without panic.
Rebekah was only marginally responsive. Alawnwee noted with some relief that the woman was no longer in the coma in which the poison had locked her. Alawnwee had been fearful that the lady would remain in the coma and eventually wither away. Now, however, the elf healer saw the lady was in the throes of labor and was not confident that either child or mother were in any condition to go through the process.
Alawnwee pulled violently on a cord beside Rebekah’s bed. She knew the cord would ring a bell in the healer's quarters, bringing further aid. While she waited she checked over the lady and tried to focus her.
“My lady Rebekah,” she spoke clearly and urgently, though there wasn’t any panic in her voice. “It’s Alawnwee; I’m here. The baby is going to come. I’m here to help.”
As the contraction passed, Rebekah focused on her friend. She tried to speak, but her throat was dry. Alawnwee fetched some water and helped her drink. When Rebekah tried to speak again, her voice came out in a half-heard, breathless, and hoarse whisper.
“Something. . . is. . . wrong. So... much. . . pain.”
“It is probably a side effect of the poison.”
Just then two more healers came in. As Alawnwee updated them, they moved to the water basin and washed up. Another contraction wracked Rebekah with pain
. Alawnwee did her best to help her fight through the pain. All the while Pax hid in the corner, unsure if he should go, yet not certain he should stay.
Chapter 39
Three days can be painfully long. Three days can be incredibly short. For Deborah there were moments where she felt both were true. Being isolated, seeking the will of the Lord, and praying about their betrothal seemed like it would keep her occupied; however, there were plenty of times when the hours and minutes moved so slowly. Deborah understood the power of prayer. She saw the benefit of taking time alone to consider her choices, especially such a big one as marriage. She did spend a great deal of the first day praying, seeking, and dreaming. She was excited and frightened in equal measure.
What would it be like to be married? She really only had her parents as an example. She supposed some aspects of their marriage could speak to what it would be like, though she was being thrown into a completely different situation. Could it be the same, with her having less time to get to know Hogan? Could it be the same with him being from a different species? Then there was the fact that they were in a world (or a place between) worlds with various races, in the middle of a battle openly fought between God and the Void. Wouldn’t her dealing with the prospect of establishing her queendom and the impending battles with her husband’s family put stress on their marriage? Would there be any semblance of a “normal” marriage?
These thoughts began to consume her. Soon she moved from prayer and seeking to worry and doubt. She wasn’t ready to rule; she would take on what was asked of her, but in truth she didn’t feel capable. She started feeling the same in regards to being a wife. Then, as doubting and worry about things will often do, other problems presented themselves, mainly the absence of her mother. How and why was she supposed to get married without the presence of her mother? Yes, she had her father, but her mother had always played a central role in all her prior musings of marriage. How could she forget or cope without her guidance?
Deeper and deeper the spiral grew. Doubt, worry, self-pity, uncertainty, fear, loathing, despair; on and on she fell down a staircase of emotional anguish. There seemed to be no end. There always seemed to be more troubles to trip over. She was becoming consumed, and the thought of moving forward was overwhelming. In that darkness of her soul she whispered a desperate prayer, “Dear Savior, help me.”
*
Evangeline knocked a third time, this time looking at the maiden guard who was on duty.
“She’s not taken any meals today,” the elven warrior said, indicating two other trays on the other side of her. “The lady sounded hoarse by the noon tide. She’s been in there crying for some time.”
“Unlock the door.”
“Ma’am, Yero said. . .”
“I know she is supposed to be in seclusion, but obviously she could use some checking in on.” Evangeline spoke with authority that would brook no disagreement. “Lord only knows what she could be worked up about! There is plenty to choose from. If she is completely cut off from help she could easily slip into depression. She’s already denying food. There is fasting, then there is starving yourself. Open the door.”
The guard complied and they both entered. They found Deborah near hysterics, balled up on her bed, weeping and gasping for breath. Evangeline quickly handed the tray to the guard and ran to Deborah’s bedside. She put her arms around the girl and held her. She placed her head next to Deborah’s and began to whisper in her ear.
“Hush now; be calm. There is no call for such carrying on. Come out now, foul deceiver; let go of this child; she shall not be yours. Lord protector, ease her turmoil; help her fight back the forces trying to consume her. Peace; you are safe, loved, and protected. Twister of emotions, leave now; she is the Lord’s. Heaven above bring forth your warriors to free her.”
On and on Evangeline soothed Deborah, admonished the dark forces surrounding the child, and prayed holy intervention. An hour passed and Deborah’s fit calmed. She loosened up and fell into an exhausted, dreamless sleep.
When Evangeline was sure the girl was safe she stood and turned to the guard. The elven warrior had remained in the room, frozen in place during the whole ordeal. A physical fight in front of her was what she was used to dealing with. This level of emotional distress was beyond her expertise. Evangeline approached her and took hold of her shoulders.
“Don’t you start slippin’ away, too,” Evangeline admonished. When she saw the guard take control of her focus she started to dole out instructions. “Take the tray back to the kitchen. Bring me back broth, some breakfast meat, a portable burner, some bread, cheese, and fresh fruit. Oh, and ask for some tea too. The staff down there will help you gather it up. I’ll stay with the lady. I doubt she’ll wake anytime soon.”
Offering no argument, the guard bowed at the waist and departed. Evangeline found a comfortable chair to wait out the night. Deborah slept on.
*
Evangeline had pulled back every curtain and opened every shutter during the night, and when dawn broke it poured through the windows. Deborah woke to find Evangeline had also drawn a bath for her. Steam wisped out of the tub.
“You should bathe, dear,” Evangeline said, sweetly yet matter of factly. “I’ll set out some fresh clothes. There is food on the window seat.”
Deborah couldn’t find her voice, but nodded at her to acknowledge that she had heard. Half an hour later, Deborah was dressed and sitting at the window seat, picking at some grapes and cheese. Evangeline sat down behind her and started to comb the girl’s long hair. After a few minutes of silence, the elder lady started talking.
“Long ago my mum warned me to be mindful of my emotions. I was a temperamental child, always flying off in one fit or another. It was my da, though, that told me about my demon.”
Deborah looked back with an unspoken question.
“Oh yes, dear; we all have one. Within us all is the capacity to be true to God. This spirit, implanted in us at our creation, is fostered by our guardian angel. However, we each harbor a seed of ill, fed to us upon our birth. This is a consequence of being born into a broken world. This seed is cared for by a demon. Every time we are selfish, disobedient, petulant, and so on, the demon gets stronger and the seed grows, poisoning our soul. Our angel works to correct us to hear the call of the Holy Spirit, our Creator. Each time we listen to His voice the demon’s hold slips and the seed of ill withers.
“We must always fight as the spiritual war rages around us constantly. Here, in the Crossroads, we can see some of this battle. It’s not hidden as much as it is in on Earth or the other planets, though there is much more going on than we can see. We cannot see the true battle happening right in front of our soul; it is there nonetheless.
“Now, our angels and demons don’t always fight alone. You’ve discovered this by now. They are aided by their allies. Your demon had a tight hold on you, twisting your emotions and passing them off to other darker deceivers. Panic, despair, and self-pity were feeding off of your soul. Can you feel where they were? Can you still hear the echoes of their poisonous words? They have marked you and will try for you again.
“You have shown such outward strength. You honor and strive always to obey your father in Heaven and your father on this plane. You see what is good and try always to follow or walk along with it. You know the Savior has victory in his hand and will guide you true. However, you see the path and tasks ahead of you and doubt yourself. You see yourself as an imperfect vessel for whatever reason. You doubt the Creator’s ability to use you to win His victory. You doubt God’s power. Every grain of sand, every fish and fowl, the wind and seas, every star and you and me, God did create. yet we doubt he can use us in our imperfection. We doubt He can make us whole.
“Take a moment to think. Remember not one person the Heavenly father used in the Bible was anywhere near perfect. Look at Noah who built a boat of massive proportions, ignoring the world around him where there was no proof of the coming flood. He followed God and His instructions. N
oah witnessed God’s power in calling forth all the animals and the flood waters. He praised God with sacrifices when they reached dry land, but did he fully trust God’s plan? No, he saw a world full of dead things and despaired. He drank himself into a stupor.
“Thieves, killers, liars, and the corrupt: God has used them all, making them more than they could have been on their own. Don’t doubt that God can use you. Don’t doubt He can make you strong or put into place what you need to survive and thrive. No, it won’t always look like you think it should, though it will be what you need.”
Evangeline stopped talking and slowly finished combing Deborah’s hair. Deb turned to face the older woman when she no longer felt the brush. Evangeline noted the weariness in the younger woman’s eyes.
“I miss my mom. I’m tired from having to be strong for the younger girls. How could I ever imagine a wedding without my mother? She's not dead, just missing somewhere else in this crazy place.”
Evangeline nodded her head. “The world, the Crossroads in particular, can take a lot out of people. There are people who cross in all the time and they carry with them stories of loss. Albert, my husband, came over with me. He died saving one of the queen's cousins. She set me up here as a cook as a repayment. I was able to give birth to Alexander in relative safety. Now my boy wants to protect people and his head’s full of knights and great deeds of daring do. This is nowhere near the life I dreamed of as a girl. However, you find joy where you can and pray always for the strength to carry on.
“You say you can’t imagine your wedding without your mother. Well, there are plenty of dreams and hopes I carry and have carried that may not and haven’t come true. You can’t give up dreaming, though, and you can’t let disappointment rule your heart when a dream doesn’t come true. Over in the servant’s chapel there is a young man praying fervently for the woman he’s fallen in love with. He prays for wisdom so he can know what she needs to have some peace. He asks the Lord to grant him strength to stand true beside her no matter what wickedness is thrown at them. This boy fasts, not in despair, but with hope that his denial of worldly needs will bring him closer to God’s throne so he may better hear the Maker’s plan for his life. I can tell you, he never thought he’d be in a situation like this, yet he strives to understand what he can do with what he’s been given. He doesn’t feel confident, he very rarely ever has, yet he finds strength in the love he’s felt over this last month and asks for every blessing the Word has for him so he can stand tall for his love.”
The New Guard (Crossroads Book 1) Page 29