“If he knew you were in danger, why didn’t he protect you?”
“He did. He told us to flee.”
“A king tells his daughter to flee? Doesn’t that seem strange to you? Wouldn’t the most powerful man in the kingdom be able to shelter you? To assign his army to guard your life?”
“He’s been drinking heavily lately,” Eleonora said. “He hasn’t been thinking clearly. Perhaps he saw the Arran raid in progress and he was too drunk to muster the guards.”
“He didn’t muster the guards because there was no Arran raid. Denda had you thrown in here on his orders.”
“How dare you say that? How dare you call him ‘Denda!’ You’re the liar. Leave!”
Elaina stood up. “I’ll go, but please consider a few things. First, listen to the whispers of your captors. You’ll hear your language. Second, listen to your reason. Even a drunk man would do whatever he could to protect his daughter. Third, listen to your own spirit. Ask who your mother was.”
“My mother was Countess Milena of the House of Drau.”
“I’m sorry, but Countess Milena was not your mother.”
“Insolent fiend!” Eleonora shouted. “Away! I’d rather die of loneliness than to listen to lies like these!”
Elaina vanished and let her sister alone once again.
Eleonora sulked. Even if this liar Elaina was real, how dare she insult my mother? Queen Milena, formerly Countess Milena, from the elite hill enclave of Gerinard, was a person she could be proud of. Eleonora had little memory of the lady, but there were portraits of her all over the palace.
Had Milena lived, she would surely have guided Eleonora in the ways of high society.
Instead, Eleonora had been made to fumble along with servants, etiquette manuals, unreliable friends, and a father who was preoccupied most of the time. Sure, she’d done a fine job of schooling herself in matters of taste, and she’d had a fair bit of fun growing up, but having a loving mother as quick-witted, clever, and well-connected as Milena was said to have been would have made things many times easier.
As she drifted off to sleep amid the sharpening stench, Eleonora again entertained the possibility that Queen Milena had been captured and sent off to bear Elaina, but that theory just felt wrong. Milena had been killed, she was sure of it. But, why, then, did she also sense truth in Elaina’s story?
Her dream that night would help her make some sense of it all.
In her dream, Eleonora was very young, and she was with Denda in his salon being introduced to a young lady dressed in fine furs. It was Milena! The lady knelt down and reached out to her, but Eleonora held tightly to Denda’s robe with both hands. Eleonora had just grown accustomed to this man in satin, this “Denda,” as he insisted on being called, and his fascinating palace. Who was this woman, this stranger, reaching out to her with an enormous grin on her face? She looked lovely and sincere, but who was she?
“This is Mama,” said Denda.
Mama? Eleonora thought. No she’s not. Mama was someone she missed. Mama was somewhere else. Eleonora looked up at Denda, puzzled.
“Yes,” said Milena. “I’m your mama now.” And to Denda she said, “Oh, she’s exquisite!”
“Yes,” Denda replied.
“Come here, child,” said Milena, beckoning Eleonora with a friendly flutter of the fingers.
Eleonora began to cry. She had met quite a few strangers recently, but none had been so bold as to call themselves “Mama.” She wanted nothing to do with the lady, no matter how sweet or elegant she looked.
Milena and Radovan were patient, but Eleonora wouldn’t let go of Radovan’s robe. Every time the little girl looked at the new “Mama,” tears oozed from her eyes. Finally, Milena gave up and headed out, upset. “Stay here, Ellie. I’ll be right back,” Denda told Eleonora, peeling her fingers from his robe and chasing after Milena. Eleonora was so relieved that the lady was leaving, she obeyed, sat down, and stayed put on the rug.
Just after the door latched, Eleonora heard someone approaching from behind her, and she turned.
Before she even registered what she saw, she was screaming in horror—a high-pitched little girl’s scream.
It was a man—a young man like her father—with two overlapping faces: one looked normal, but the other was the face of a monster! A wave of force slammed her little body, paralyzing her and cutting her scream short. She flopped sideways onto the floor.
The next thing little Eleonora knew she was outdoors, feeling numb and heavy-headed. The elite of Destauria were gathered in the palace courtyard. As Radovan’s culture minister addressed the sea of faces, behind a curtain the defeated toddler Eleonora clung to the neck of her new Mama, Milena.
Eleonora awoke, devastated. It would take some time before she would muster the courage to summon Elaina and begin to listen to the truth.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
B y dawn, the Audician army had crossed the Arran border and had advanced well into Arra’s northern forest without encountering any of Radovan’s men. The Destaurians appeared to be pulling back and repositioning their units.
At sea, the allied Arran and Audician navies, with a number of Celmarean volunteers aboard, including Queen Alethea, continued their careful southward push. They had yet to spot a single Destaurian vessel. It seemed that Radovan’s formidable navy, which had chased the Arran ships into northern waters, had turned back.
The Arrans at Black Tube Caves still had not revealed themselves. They were waiting for the right moment, which, according to the plan, was when the Audician front line reached their latitude.
The activity in the caves was frenzied yet organized. Jaimin had been awake for hours, sitting up in his bed, sharpening swords and reinforcing their scabbards with tight molecular matrices. He had just finished his third set of the day. Elaina was seated in the chair by his bedside, studying her protocol manual by the light of a single candle.
Someone rang the little bell hung on the wall just outside the chamber.
“Please come in,” Jaimin called.
Nastasha stepped into the light. The candlelight reeked of romance, which caused a pain in her abdomen.
Jaimin slid the glowing blade into its scabbard. “Three more,” he said. “And I’m still awake. I’m definitely getting better at this.”
Nastasha was carrying a metal case by a leather strap. “I must advise you to make that your last one before your nap,” she said. “And after you wake, you should pay a visit to our people at Three Falls Caves. Reassure them. It won’t be long before they hear the sounds of battle outside.” She set down her case.
“I think I can make just one more sword. What if it’s the one that wins the war?”
“No, Jem,” Elaina said. “Listen to your advisor. You’ve made your last one for now.”
“I made this one for you, Nastasha.” He handed over the set he had just finished. The sword hummed as Nastasha unsheathed it.
“I have my short sword,” Nastasha said.
“And now you have a long one as well,” he said. “I call it Ivinar, after the great judge.”
“I’m impressed you remember that history lesson. Thank you for this,” she said, examining the weapon’s workmanship. Jaimin had somehow engraved the blackwood hilt and scabbard with objects and scenes from the legend of the great judge and scholar Ivinar, who had mediated a peaceful end to a rebellion in Audicia. “You’re becoming quite an artist,” she told him, sheathing the blade and tucking it into her belt. Elaina retrieved another chair for Nastasha from the shadows.
“I have of late found inspiration,” he said, smugly.
“Indeed,” said Nastasha. “Well, soon these caves will empty and Arra will be fully engaged in the battle. Let’s go over where you two will be.”
“Wherever we can do the most good,” Jaimin said.
“If I could,” said Nastasha with a sigh, “I’d seal you both away until all this madness is over, but your mother wants Elaina close enough to the front so that her healing
abilities can be put to use.”
“And what about my healing abilities?”
“You’re not to use them,” Nastasha told him. “Elaina can heal continually without tiring; you can’t. And Elaina’s technique is more…comprehensive.”
“Very true,” Elaina said.
Nastasha continued: “There’s a defensible quarry not far from here. Securing it will be our first goal. Once it’s safe enough outside for her to help, Elaina will attend to the wounded, staying back from the lines at first—but once we move into the quarry she can set up there. Jaimin, you should stay in the caves.”
“Sharpen more swords?” he asked.
“Some, but don’t make that all you do. Spend time with the court and the soldiers. Build your standing as a leader. Nobody expects you to risk your life on the front lines, but you can do much to show your people who you are.”
“Where will Alessa and Makias be?” Elaina asked.
“Alessa will be protecting Princess Tori and the court survivors. Makias will alternate between translating and fighting with a forward unit,” Nastasha said.
“What’s…in that box of yours?” Jaimin asked, glancing down at Nastasha’s strange valise.
“Oh, yes,” Nastasha said. “This. Well, while you’ve been honing swords, I’ve been mixing up some potent explosives for use in these little charges.” She unlatched the case and opened it to reveal a dozen steel eggs, nestled in padding, and rigged with wires tucked under sheathing. “There is a trick to detonating them.” She flipped up the sheathing on one to reveal four rubber buttons. “Press the top-left and bottom-right buttons simultaneously. This light will turn red, and you will have ten seconds to get the thing as far away from you as possible.”
“Nice work,” Elaina said.
“I shall issue you a few,” Nastasha said, “but don’t use them too close to the quarry walls. Remember: top left and bottom right. And please don’t blow yourself up. We’ve come too far for that.”
“You can trust me with eggs,” Elaina said.
“Is this something you came up with?” Jaimin asked Nastasha.
“I can’t claim credit. I just refined the formula for the explosive.” Nastasha turned to Elaina. “Have you made any progress with your sister?”
“She’s coming around slowly,” Elaina said. “Her whole world is turning upside down, and since every time I show up I shake it up further, she’s not very fond of me. I can’t rush her.”
“She still thinks Arra has her?” Nastasha asked.
“She blames Arra for many things, including the death of someone named Queen Milena, who she thinks was her mother. She believes Arra has been making incursions into Destauria and causing all kinds of havoc.”
“Fascinating!” Nastasha said. “We’ve never made any raids into Destauria.”
“Your father’s lies again…” Jaimin said to Elaina.
“Maybe,” Elaina said. “Actually, if my father’s plan was to shock Eleonora into Kalmise, I hope it works. A boost in her intuition may help her accept the truth.”
Shortly after noon, the Audician line reached Black Tube Caves, but the generals decided to have them continue southward a bit and strengthen their positions before the Arran reinforcements emerged into the daylight. This also meant that the ships carrying additional troops and Celmarean volunteers had to sail a bit further than expected into uncertain waters.
Makias was about to have lunch with the Arran officers when Alessa pulled him aside. “Have lunch with me,” she said. She led him to the flooded cave where she had meditated with Elaina, and they sat down on the underground beach. Sunlight streamed in from cracks in the ceiling.
“I didn’t know there was light in here,” Alessa said. “Last time I was in here it was nighttime.” She opened Makias’s burlap lunch sack and peered inside to see what he was expected to eat.
“This place is great,” Makias said. “Do you think it’s safe to swim?”
Alessa scooped up some water in her hand and smelled it. It smelled clean, but she didn’t want to assume it was safe. “Maybe,” she said, “but not today.” She knelt facing him and touched his cheeks gently.
“You seem relaxed,” he said. “Considering the battle ahead.”
“I believe we have a future,” she said.
“Of course we have a future,” Makias told her. “We’re going to clean this mess up on the mainland, and then we’re going back home. It will be like…that day never happened.”
She knew which day he meant: the day their island was invaded—the day they were ripped from the rich world of their youth. The day the relationship they might have had was denied. “It can’t be exactly like it was,” Alessa told him.
“I’m going to challenge you on that,” Makias said. “I want there to come a day when we look at each other and think: ‘This is exactly how it was meant to be.’ Whatever they’ve done to our palace, we’ll rebuild it. We’ll reshape the land into what we remember. And the people we lost will be so overjoyed at our work that they will return from the spirit world and live among us.”
“If only they could,” Alessa said, feeling his sadness, and her own. Like him, she had lost many friends and relatives that day, including her beloved parents. She knew they couldn’t put it all back together, and Makias knew it too.
“They live on in us,” Makias said. “The island lives on in us. And when we return, there will be an awakening.”
And we will rule, Alessa said in her mind. It was one of those thoughts that came from her soul without prompting.
“And we will rule,” Makias said aloud.
But how could Makias rule? they both wondered. Makias was a man. Men did not rule on Celmarea. Still, it sounded right to both of them.
Makias, searching Alessa’s soul through her intense brown eyes now, felt her wanting him. With her help, he eased her down onto the sand. She slid her legs up around his hips and with them pulled his body firmly to hers. Her body tingled all over on feeling his weight moving subtlely against her. Her eyes began to tear up. Her heart raced. She had never before had anyone on top of her like this.
Supporting himself with one hand, with the other Makias undid the button of her uniform collar. He leaned in and kissed her neck, inhaling the sweet scent of her skin. She relaxed into the kisses and felt weightless, as if she were falling through a wonderful void.
This was amazing and new—this giving herself over to someone else completely—but her urge to be in charge again soon took over. Using her legs and hips for leverage, Alessa rolled Makias over onto his back and lay atop him, kissing him softly at first, and then deeply, again and again. They shared some very creative fantasies in their minds about what they would do when they had more time and fewer clothes on. Eventually, she whispered, “Catch your breath, lover. You’ve got to get back.”
She got to her feet and helped Makias up. They brushed the grit from each other’s clothes. She handed him the sack of uneaten lunch, and they headed back to their duties, feeling much more alive than they had felt in many years.
After Jaimin awoke from his nap, he, Alessa, and Elaina ascended the passage to Three Falls Caves, where, in the main cavern, Jaimin delivered an inspiring speech to the court survivors. Meanwhile, Alessa and Elaina checked on their horses again.
“I cannot say why it was the will of the divine spirit to take so many of our loved ones from us, but there is a reason it happened, and a reason we remain alive,” Jaimin said to the survivors. He was digging deep into his soul to find the words, and he was finding plenty. “I believe that we remain alive to show the world that evil and hate, try as they might, can never completely extinguish the light. Today our entire history and culture, our collective Arran soul, is concentrated in the few of us. And so are the strength and the resolve that helped our ancestors survive. The divine spirit will not let us fall, and now has a mission for us. We will push this evil back, and ultimately overcome it. We will do this in the name of the fathers, mothers, sisters
, brothers, and children we have lost.”
The audience, many of whom were his classmates, were amazed. They had never heard him speak like this.
“In a matter of days,” he continued, “we will all be home. We will do what is necessary to rebuild our quarters, our institutions, and our lives, and to look after the needs of our countrymen. And never again will we be caught unprepared.”
Just then, everyone heard a click—click, click from one of the ventilation shafts above.
“Everyone, against the walls!” roared Marco, one of the senior guards.
Panic split the gathered group. Some of the quicker thinking of them grabbed or lifted those frozen by confusion. Jaimin only took two steps before he was scooped off his feet by a guard. Princess Tori was snatched up by another guard just as quickly.
Amidst a shower of glistening slush, a metal object the size of a large fruit dropped from the ceiling, struck the uneven cave floor, and bounced toward a group of girls.
A tremendous burst of fire, noise, and shrapnel tore through the chamber, rending clothes and flesh, and ripping apart the precious body of the girl named Aura.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
T here was an eerie moment of total silence, and then the soft, gut-wrenching wailing started—just from a few of the injured, and it wasn’t loud. It was as if nobody, not even the little ones, wanted to make the horrific thing that had just happened real by making noise.
The air was thick with dust.
Nearly everyone had been knocked to the floor. Some felt excruciating pain when they tried to move, and others just remained still, afraid to move. Cots, furnishings, and personal treasures had been flipped and strewn. Bits of wood and fabric were burning.
Thanks to the quick actions of two guards, Jaimin and Tori had been carried far enough away and were unharmed. The guards set them down just inside the passage that led off toward Black Tube Caves. Jaimin wanted to turn back and help the injured, but for Tori’s sake he fled with her and the guards.
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