Aporia (Young Adult Paranormal Romance) (Wisteria Series)

by Leyton, Bisi

  “I thought you did not want to talk about it?” She pointed to her long shag coat that was laid out along the sofa.

  “I do not.” He walked over to get it.

  “Do not be angry with your father because you thought you were in love.”

  “I was—” He forced himself to stop. Nothing good would come from this conversation.

  “You were what? In love?” The woman’s voice was calm and non-judgmental. “You forgot who you were, Bach. You cannot have someone else’s life or escape your destiny. Whether you like it or not, your faycard is the ace of spades. That means you are a Sen-Son.”

  “Yordi is destined to be the Sen. When he is, he will have a lot of children and I will be free.”

  “Free to runaway again?” Merce buttoned up her coat.

  “Free to be an ordinary Famila.”

  “If Biel Zey was able to defeat an army of Dy’obeth with a small knife, I know there is no such thing as an ordinary Famila.”

  Every Famila child was raised on the horror stories about the powerful Dy’obeth that snatched naughty kids out of their beds.

  “I see you have been prepping yourself with stories for your great-grandchildren,” Bach chuckled.

  “You got me.” The old woman winked at him. “I thought it would make you feel better.”

  “Tell them the one about when Sen Biel Zey stopped the sun with a pair of socks and a comb.”

  “I have not heard that one, but you get my point. You are not ordinary. Do not let your one mistake define who you are.”

  “It does not,” Bach argued.

  She cupped his face with her hands. “Liar! Your eyes are as red and bloodshot as they were the day you arrived; you are still trying to excise your demons through the Delmar. Have you stopped taking that poison?”

  “The Delmar worked.” The redness was a side-effect of a year long process, called the Delmar. When he’d started working with Merce he had been living on nothing but wild fruits and water for several months, mediating in the mountains. All the while, he was surviving on less than three hours of sleep a night. “But I have stopped.”

  During that time, Merce told him repeatedly that she had been terrified he was going to keel over.

  He had started eating normal food and no longer lived in the wild, but he still mediated seven hours a night, which meant he slept for less than two hours. Most nights though, he did not sleep at all. How could he? She haunted his dreams. He hated her.

  She patted his flat stomach. “Until I see it there, I am going to continue keeping my eye on you.”

  “Sure.” He forced a smile.

  “You know what? I think I can handle your father on my own.”

  “You do not need me to go?”

  “Yes, but you seem even less like yourself today. I will let you spend some more time alone. As long as you promise me you will eat something.”

  “I will eat.” He did not feel hungry, but he knew that it would make the elderly woman happy.

  “And get some sleep.”

  *****

  Bach made his way through the corridors of Sen-Filla Merce’s mansion on Sable Mountain. Having an evening alone was an unexpected treat, and one he intended to make the most of.

  Yordi would probably be at the dinner with Sen Aleix, Merce, and whoever else was sucking up to his father at this current time.

  Hopefully, Enric would also be doing some sort of top secret security task, because he was now a sentinel and worked to maintain order within The Family’s home realm.

  He shook his head, knowing Enric was more persistent than anyone to get Bach back to his old self. Bach could not remember now what normal was. He had never been a happy child, especially after his mother was murdered. Happiness was an illusion, especially now that Lluc was gone and Wisteria was—. He wasn’t going to think about her. She hadn’t leaked into his mind for months, at least when he was awake. Now, he’d thought about her four times in one day.

  Closing his eyes, he forced his mind to go blank, as he learned to do during his meditations.

  Enric appeared in the corridor that led to Bach’s chambers. “Hi.”

  “How did you get in here?” Bach demanded.

  “I have friends in Sen-Filla’s household.” Walking up, he held out a glass bottle full of a black liquid. “Happy birthday!”

  Today was his twentieth birthday. Bach had no interest in celebrating this birthday, or any other. “I do not need to celebrate pointless days. Thank you for the sand wine, but I do not need it.”

  “I thought we could talk, now that the Delmar is over. This would be something you would have discussed with Lluc, right?”

  It was. Lluc was the one who knew Bach was trying to break the Mosroc. Yordi did not want to know, or was afraid to admit Bach had bonded with a human at all. He was simply relieved Bach was back in the home realm.

  “Put on something warm; I have a fire lit in the courtyard,” Enric said. “But do not wear the Second Pillar's colors--I can never get used to that.”

  “Whatever.” Not willing to argue, Bach opened the door to his chamber and went in. “Enric, if you have a problem with the Second Pillar, or their colors, I suggest you take it up with someone who cares.”

  There was no response.

  “Enric?” He returned to the door.

  “I think he is gone,” a familiar voice answered.

  Spinning around, he saw the curved, slender figure of Radala as she stepped out of the shadows.

  Unlike before, when they were racing the leviathans, she was now wearing a dress that made her hips pop. Her long wavy brown hair was draped down her back. “He said we were supposed to all meet here for dinner.” She pointed to the balcony. “It had something to do with the Delmar?”

  “Huh?” His balcony was glowing with the light of at least three hundred shining candles which were not there when he had left this morning. Set in the center of the balcony was a table, and on it was the most appetizing roasted fowl he had smelt in years. “Who else is supposed to be here?” Walking out, he saw plenty of food for four, but only plate settings for two. He would kill Enric in the morning.

  “Obviously, just you and me; I figured that out when he locked me in here.” Radala took a seat. “This must be weird for you. I hear you last girlfriend had major issues.”

  “I do not talk about her.”

  “I understand. If my boyfriend murdered his father I would not want to talk about it either. There is no bridewell nasty enough for someone like that.” Radala shuddered. “I cannot imagine why you are still engaged to her.”

  “She was not at the top of my list.”

  “You should think about—”

  “I do not want to talk about her.”

  Radala’s eyes dropped and she frowned. “So, let us plan how we are going to kill Enric.”

  Sitting down, Bach laughed. “Short and sweet.”

  “But let us see how the night goes first? He might deserve a more painful death.” She smiled and belched.

  He could not deny she was a stunning girl, especially now when she had shed her tomboy gear. Only a fool, or someone deeply in love, would not be able to see it. She was also incredibly laid back. It was like she did not care about anything, and Bach needed that kind of attitude right now.

  She was compatible with him and he felt at ease around her. Perhaps that had been what had made him feel so uncomfortable before? And why he avoided her whenever he was in her grandmother’s house.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Four Months Later

  “Thank you,” Bach muttered, as he and Enric sailed to Molten Ravine on his yacht.

  The guys sat on the deck of the self-navigated vessel as Bach’s Famila servants attended to them. A lot of people used Thayns for servants, but Bach never felt right having them around him. Knowing how strong-minded humans could be, he started to wonder what would happen if the Thayns ever woke up. He chuckled to himself. These humans would never wake up.

  “I can
not hear you. You are going to have to shout,” Enric jeered.

  “Thank you for convincing Radala to go out with me,” Bach called over the loud winds. He had been seeing Radala for over four months and surprisingly, it had not been torture. If he had to be honest with himself, Bach had not expected much from her, but compared to the two other girls in his life, Radala was perfection.

  “Louder,” Enric mocked.

  “Leave him alone.” Radala approached them and punched Enric in the chest. “You do not want to mess with me, sentinel.”

  “Oww.” Enric feigned injury. “That actually hurt.”

  “No, you are being a baby.” She thumped him harder.

  “Radala, are you out of your mind? Those jabs are painful.” Enric backed away.

  Laughing, Bach tugged his girlfriend away from Enric for his own protection. “Maybe you could take it easy with him?”

  “Sure.” Making a funny face, Radala left the boys to go get food from the stewards on the other side of the boat.

  “You need to keep her on leash,” Enric scowled, watching the girl saunter off.

  “Thank you again.” Bach patted his shoulder.

  “I was getting worried for a while. I thought you would never get past her and what she made you go through.” Enric was talking about his sister Alba. It was impossible for Enric, like most members of The Family, to understand how Bach had felt for a human. To Enric, that particular episode with the Terran girl was over the moment Bach left Earth.

  “Do you wish for me to talk to you about Alba?”

  “Honestly? Yes, because you are my best friend. It would be great to finally talk to someone about my crazy sister, who is still swearing that Felip is coming to save her. I am going to kill him. I promise you that.”

  For murdering the respected Lord of Jarthan, who also happened to be Enric and Alba’s father, Alba had been judged and was sentenced to spend the rest of her life in the ancient but impregnable prison, Bridewell in Molten Ravine.

  “Do you ever visit her?” Bach inquired.

  “Why should I? She lost the right to call me brother when she murdered our father,” Enric explained unemotionally. “But I was not asking about her. I was talking about your Terran. When you finally came home, you were not the same.”

  Bach was surprised that Enric was actually speaking of Wisteria. “Right. I was cold, angry, and a jerk,” he said, reciting what Enric had told him over and over for almost two years.

  “When I heard you were going to live in the mountains on wild fruit you picked yourself, I thought you had lost your mind,” Enric continued. “I was not sure it was going to work.”

  “And now?”

  “You are happy with Radala. I have not known you to be this happy since before your mother died.”

  Bach would not go that far. “Yeah, but I am afraid they will pressure me to name her as my intended and—”

  “You have done much worse,” Enric reminded him. “Listen; name her. You have got two years to decide if that is what you want. Unless you are saying this thing between you and the Terran is not over?”

  “I hate her,” Bach seethed.

  “As long as we are clear.” Enric took out a glowing glass scroll from his pocket. It was his far-eye. Unrolling it, he scanned the document and frowned.

  “Are you needed?” Bach asked.

  Enric looked distracted as he shook his head and rolled up the artifact.

  Radala grabbed it from him. “We agreed--no work. If Bach is not going to answer my grandmother’s summons, then you cannot when the sentinels summon you.” With that, she flung the device into the ocean.

  “Vadda!" Enric turned toward the water. He was about to jump, but stopped when a sting shark swam by. “You need to calm down.”

  “Well, you already broke our agreement, so you had to pay the price.”

  This reminded Bach of her grandmother’s words. “What is it with your Family and agreements?”

  “We are honorable.” Sitting on his lap, Radala brushed her lips on his cheek.

  “Enric, we should leave them.” Another Famila girl with long red hair approached, holding out her hand. Bach could not remember her name, but she was his friend’s latest beloved.

  Hesitantly, Enric took hold of the red-headed girl’s hand. “Can I use your far-eye?”

  “You are not going back to work, are you?” the redhead teased, and led him away.

  Snickering, Radala squeezed Bach’s waist.

  “What?” he asked.

  “I am jealous you have a friend like Enric.”

  “And that is funny to you?”

  “He is funny. I cannot believe he cannot take a punch. I mean, look at him, he is bigger than you and yet, he whines all the time.”

  “Can we not talk about him?”

  “Okay, what do you want to talk about?”

  “Nothing.” He kissed her again.

  “I need to talk to Bach.” Enric reappeared, his expression grave.

  “No.” Playfully, Radala pouted. “You have had him for years. Can you not give us ten minutes?”

  “Come on, Enric.” Bach frowned. “It can wait.”

  “That is what I told him,” the redhead said. “But he—”

  “It is important,” Enric insisted. “Now.”

  Anger flashed across Radala’s face and she rose to her feet. “You do not tell me what to do, Enric of the Third Pillar: ever.” Transfixed, she glared at Enric as if she was going to hit him again.

  “It is about your father, so we need to speak now,” Enric informed him.

  “What has happened?” Bach rose.

  Enric glanced down at Radala.

  She seemed to understand the importance now, as she nodded at him and walked away.

  “I was reading a message from my commander, before Radala tossed it. I needed to confirm it before I told you. He was attacked.”

  “When? What happened?”

  “He was poisoned. They believe it was supposed to look like he died in his sleep. That is all I know.”

  “Is Yordi all right?” Bach was not going to talk about the Sen. At this moment, Yordi was his only concern. “I have to see him.”

  *****

  It took almost half the day for them to return to his father’s castle on Sable Mountain. He was met at the family’s private entrance where there were several more sentinel guards, and Didan, one of the lead empirics. He had been the empiric who had stabbed Bach, leaving him to die.

  “Didan!” Bach seethed. “You did this.”

  “I am sure you must be very upset right now.” His tone was icy and unsympathetic. “As you do not understand what you are saying.”

  Bach swung at him, punching him in the face.

  “Your father is alive, but barely. You have got to focus on what is important.” Enric moved in front of Bach.

  “Listen to your friend, boy.” Didan picked himself up as he rubbed his jaw. “With Lluc . . . missing, you may be the Sen of the Third Pillar. So now, more than ever, you need to get a grip and control yourself.”

  “Missing?” Bach glared. “My brother is dead.”

  “Sen-Son, this way.” Another sentinel approached.

  Moving past Didan, Bach studied the man’s expressionless face. It was almost as if the man had no soul.

  Moments later, Bach was in his father’s chamber.

  Several of his father's closest advisors walked out of the room after giving Bach a string of superficial pleasantries and expressing their concern.

  He made his way over to his father, who lay still in his bed.

  There were two other people in the room with them. One was Yordi. The other was Belem, their stepmother.

  Bach paused, unsure whether or not to approach his father and face whatever fresh insults the Sen had prepared. He gestured to Yordi to come over to him.

  Yordi shook his head. “Bach is here.”

  Hesitant as to whether he wanted to see his father, Bach continued to wait. He had on
ly come to see Yordi, but now it was clear he was not going to get away from seeing the vicious man who called himself father. Cautiously, he neared the frail silver-and-black-haired man who lay wheezing while covered in royal blue and black velvet blankets.

  Sen Aleix, Bach’s father and leader of the Third Pillar, looked over at him with weak green eyes.

  Bach stopped himself from gasping at how pale and gray his father had become. His gaze wandered to the clumps of his father’s hair that was scattered on the sheets.

  Straining to lift his head, his father sneered as he shivered. “Sen-Son, my prodigal son, has come to see if I am actually dead.”

  “Rest, beloved. Do not strain yourself,” Belem whispered gently.

  Despite his father’s cold welcome, Bach was surprisingly relieved that his father was alive. Not because he loved the man; they were past that. Bach had no interest in becoming Prime of the Pillar, which would happen if Yordi became the Sen.

  “Disappointed the spies did not succeed?” His father coughed. “That way, no one would stop you from returning to your Terran whore and making her a Sen-Dra, once you managed to kill your older brother.” His father struggled to laugh.

  The Sen-Dra was the title given to the spouse of a Sen.

  “Belem, how would you like your successor being a jaga?”

  Bach tensed at the word. Calling a human jaga was worse than calling them Terran. Even before Wisteria had asked him to never call her Terran, he had never called humans jaga. It was pathetic.

  And right now, his father was acting pathetic.

  “Beloved, do not say that. You do not mean it.” Bach’s stepmother stroked the frail man’s hair.

  “I would not expect him to do any different,” Bach replied. “After all, he is the leader of the Pillar; I should be grateful my father had pity enough on me to let me live this time.” Stepping away, he headed back toward the door.

  “Run away. Run back to your jaga,” the Sen whispered.

  “Next time someone wants to kill you, they should come to me and I will make sure they succeed,” Bach stated loudly. He did not mean it, but he wanted to mean it.