by Lara Morgan
Balkis smiled. ‘So, you have the sharp tongue of a Free Lander woman as well as the dress.’ His eyes took in what the men had been ogling. ‘Is that where you were going?’
She lifted her chin. ‘Are you taking me to the Commander?’
‘Of course.’
‘Do you know what he wants me for?’
‘No.’ Balkis turned to the men. ‘You two keep looking for Nilah. If you find her, escort her back at once. I’ll take this one to the Commander.’
‘Sir.’ Both men nodded and smirked at her as they moved off.
Balkis turned back to her. ‘Come on.’ He pulled her forward, chuckling as she glared at the men’s backs.
‘You can hardly blame them,’ he said, and Shaan turned the glare on him.
‘I didn’t wear this to show myself off. It’s a disguise.’
‘To hide what?’ Balkis smiled. ‘There’s very little hidden.’
Shaan looked away. She hated feeling so exposed.
‘Do you want something to cover yourself?’ he said.
‘No.’ She pulled her shoulders back and walked taller. Let him look, she decided. He’d caught her, but that didn’t mean she was going to act defeated. They walked in silence for some time. He took the quieter streets behind buildings, and deserted back alleys. The sounds of people talking, doors slamming and the scent of food cooking hung in the air, but they saw no one. His hand on her arm was loose, but if she moved even a little his grip tightened.
After a time he said quietly, ‘So is that man, Tallis, really your brother?’
She glanced at him, but the look he gave her was hard to decipher.
‘Why?’
‘I’m just curious, you both look so alike. He must be.’ She shrugged and he said, ‘You know he’s not here anymore don’t you?’ He was looking at her, but she kept her face averted. The dull echo of Tallis inside was so faint it pained her. ‘Yes.’
‘He was sent east,’ Balkis said. ‘There have been more attacks. The Commander thought they could be useful. Tallis and Jared have seen the rogue serpents who are doing it.’
Shaan didn’t reply, the thought of Tallis going to where those beasts were made her feel sick. ‘Why tell me?’ she said. ‘I barely know him.’
‘I thought you should know. I would like to be told if it were me.’
‘Obviously you are not me,’ Shaan said, angry with him for a reason she couldn’t fathom.
‘Is he your only family?’ Balkis seemed unaware of her tone. ‘Or are your parents still living?’
‘They are dead.’
‘You have no one?’
Shaan shook her head.
‘That must be strange,’ he mused. ‘I have both mother and father, and a sister, but perhaps there is a kind of freedom in having nobody, there is no one to please.’
‘Freedom?’ She jerked to a stop, rounding on him. His words were foolish, she wanted to strike him for his stupidity. ‘There’s no freedom in being alone. Is that what you think? That having no one who gives a damn if you live or die is freedom?’ She ripped her arm from his grip.
Stunned enough to let her go, Balkis stared at her. ‘That’s not what I think,’ he said.
‘No?’
‘No.’ He was annoyed and for a moment she was glad. She stood her ground, glaring at him. ‘I’m sorry, Shaan,’ he said. ‘You’re upset.’
‘I’m not upset,’ she answered quickly. ‘I’ve heard it before from your kind.’
‘And what kind is that?’ he rested a hand on the hilt of his sword.
‘The kind who never has to think twice about where their next meal is coming from. The kind who has a fine roof over their head and coin in their purse. The kind who never sees the child dying in the gutter because their cart goes by so fast it blows dust over them.’
He stared at her as though she’d struck him. ‘I’m not like that. I could never be like that’.
She felt a twinge of shame. No, he wasn’t like that. He was young and selfish and wealthy, but he was not like that. Hadn’t he helped her? Hadn’t he saved her that night in the alley? He’d protected her, more than once, although she wasn’t sure why.
She looked away, staring at the stones beneath her feet. ‘Well, some are,’ she said.
‘I didn’t choose to be born a merchant’s son,’ he said quietly. He put his hand back on her arm, and this time his grip wasn’t tight, it was warm, almost tender.
All the defiance drained out of her. She was tired of fighting with him.
She stared at the ground and the silence stretched between them until finally she looked up. ‘Why can’t you just let me go?’
He shook his head. ‘You know why. I can’t go against what the Faithful want.’
‘And what happens to those the Faithful want?’ She searched his closed face. ‘They don’t let them go, Balkis, you know that.’ Fear welled up in her chest then, so thick her breath caught. ‘I don’t want to be sent to the Floating Isles . . . or worse.’
His hand tightened. ‘Commander Rorc is not going to hurt you.’
‘You don’t know that,’ she whispered.
He let out a long breath and stepped closer. ‘If I promise that I won’t let you get hurt, will you trust me?’ His blue eyes searched her face, and he lifted a hand, running light fingers along the curve of her cheek. ‘Why do you fight me?’
She could think of nothing to say. Her heart was thudding and her throat suddenly felt so constricted she could hardly draw breath. The warmth of his body was so close to hers. She put a hand on his chest, feeling the thud of his heart. Yearning flared in his eyes, sucking the breath from her and then his lips came down on hers. He kissed her hard, his tongue tasting her mouth. Desire surged through her and she pressed herself against him, pushing a hand through his hair, pulling him closer. There was nothing but the feel of him, the taste of him. The muscles of his back were hard beneath her hand, his thighs taut against her own.
Then suddenly a door slammed somewhere and he froze and pulled abruptly away. Dizzy, she stared up at him, trying to catch her breath, still feeling the pressure of his lips on hers. His breathing was ragged and silence fell between them. Shaan’s heart was racing and she saw a strange look in his eye, a kind of wonder mixed with fear, but then suddenly he drew away and it was as though a shutter went down over his face.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said tonelessly. ‘I shouldn’t have done that.’ Before she could speak, he took her arm again. ‘Come on, the Commander is waiting.’ And he pulled her with him up the street.
Her mind in turmoil, she could only follow. He kept his face averted and lengthened his stride until she was forced to half run to keep up. It was exhausting and her long dress kept tangling around her legs. What had happened? Stunned, it took her some time to realise they were heading up into the hills of the city, but did not seem to be going toward the palace. The streets started to look a little familiar, a curve here, a tree there, but she could not figure out where he was taking her.
The road became a gentle incline but his pace didn’t slow. The burn on her hand was throbbing and her legs started to ache. ‘Balkis,’ she called. ‘Slow down, I can’t keep up!’
He glanced at her and adjusted his stride slightly.
‘Where are you taking me?’ she asked, but he didn’t reply. He only kept pulling her with him through the dark streets and she was too weary to keep protesting. They walked on in silence for a time and then she saw they were approaching a high white wall with a small gate. Her insides lurched in recognition. Morfessa’s home! Why was he bringing her here?
It was where she had wanted to go this morning, but now the sight of the gate made a lump of fear lodge in her throat. The hair on the back of her neck rose and bumps formed on her skin. There was something wrong in there, she could feel it, a malevolent presence. Nausea roiled in her gut and she began to resist, planting her feet as they neared the gate.
‘No,’ she whispered and he turned to her with a frown.
She shook her head and tried to pull away, her breath becoming short and panic building.
‘Shaan, what . . .’
‘I can’t go in there, please!’ She struggled against him in earnest. There was something in there, she could feel it, pulling at her blood, calling to her. It was like the serpents in her dream again, but she was awake now, awake and terrified.
‘Shaan?’ He had hold of both her arms, but she ignored him, struggling desperately. ‘Please, Balkis, no!’ But he was too strong for her.
‘Stop it!’ He picked her up and opened the gate, forcing her through before him.
The path was a dark tunnel. A faint light was coming through the trees from the direction of the house and all around insects rustled among the plants. Blood pounded through her veins, the sound roaring through her skull. Balkis put her down on the ground and she turned and clawed at him, seeking to push him back and out of the way so she could escape.
‘Shaan, what is it?’ He grunted as she fought him.
‘You don’t understand! I can’t go in there!’ And then with despair she smelled it: the wet earth, rising like vapour around her, and as though from a great distance she heard the crack and whoosh of fire. Her vision wavered and with a surge of fear she cried out as she felt the blackness reaching for her. ‘No!’ She reached for Balkis in terror, as though he could hold her there.
He frowned. ‘Shaan?’ But already she was drawing away from him. She tried to fight it. It was not right, she was awake. Not now! The world became unsteady beneath her and she staggered.
‘Shaan!’ His voice was sharp and his arms went around her, holding her up. She stared up into his face, but couldn’t see him properly, as though she were underwater. She clutched at him weakly, trying to hold herself to the world, to him. But then she remembered, and a wave of panic took her. He was touching her! He would die! It would kill him as well. No! She struggled to push him off, but he was no longer there, and with a final scream, she fell into the dark.
Balkis lifted Shaan up into his arms as she passed out. What had just happened? It was as though she’d been trying to hang on as something dragged her away. Fear filled him and, cradling her against his chest, he ran down the path. She was still breathing, but too fast, and her hands kept curling and uncurling as though she was trying to hold onto something.
His heart pounding, he emerged from the dark pathway into Morfessa’s garden. In a few long strides he had reached the door. He kicked at it and it wasn’t long before Prin was opening it. The young man’s eyes fell immediately on Shaan.
‘Sept Leader,’ he said in cold, quiet voice.
‘Out of the way,’ Balkis ordered.
Prin moved his gaze smoothly to him. ‘Please, come in, the others are waiting.’ He opened the door wider and stepped back, a half smile on his face.
‘Go fetch Morfessa and the Commander,’ Balkis said.
Prin stayed still a moment, his eyes going again to Shaan, and Balkis felt the back of his neck prickle. ‘Now!’ he snapped, some instinct making him turn her away.
‘Of course,’ Prin said, his eyes lifting. And with another insolent half smile, he moved off down the hallway.
Gripped with fear, Balkis stared down at Shaan’s pale face, only looking up when footsteps sounded and Morfessa and Rorc came down the hall.
‘Balkis,’ Rorc said. ‘You found her?’
‘Yes, but something happened.’ He looked at Morfessa who was staring at Shaan with concern. He noticed with shock that the old man looked ten years older than he had a few days before, his skin grey and creased with weariness.
‘What happened?’ Morfessa’s eyes roamed over her face.
‘I don’t know. She just collapsed.’
Morfessa lifted one hand and placed it on her forehead then, with what seemed undue haste, snatched it back. He looked at Balkis with a bland smile.
‘She’s all right, don’t worry. Come, I’ll show you where you can put her and I’ll give her a tonic.’
‘Good, but be quick,’ Rorc said. ‘The Guardian needs you.’
‘Yes,’ Morfessa said and he beckoned Balkis to follow him into the central courtyard.
Clenching her teeth, and closing her eyes to the fire and screams, Shaan pushed her hand again into the flames. The pain jolted her back into her body and with a shuddering breath she opened her eyes.
She was on a bed in a small room. She couldn’t remember how she’d got there. Hot pain blazed a trail of agony across her injured hand as she stared up at an elaborate mural on the ceiling. Footsteps sounded and she turned as Morfessa opened the door and stepped into the room.
‘Shaan.’ He smiled. His odd-coloured eyes were sharp with interest and he watched her intently as he sat on a metal chair by the bed.
‘Am I in your home?’ she asked.
‘Yes, Balkis brought you here. Are you feeling better?’
She licked her dry lips. ‘Is Balkis all right?’
‘Yes,’ he frowned, ‘Why?’
She shook her head, relieved.
‘What happened?’ Morfessa’s red-flecked eye pinned her down.
‘I don’t know, I haven’t been well,’ she answered and he nodded slightly as his eyes roamed over her face. ‘Why am I here?’
‘Because you are special, but I think you know that already.’ The look he gave her was penetrating, as though he knew exactly why she was special, while she did not.
‘What are you talking about?’
‘I can feel the weariness on you, Shaan. When did you last sleep?’
She hesitated and he leaned forward. ‘You have not slept well for many days, I can tell. Your mind is blurred with weariness and toil. Let me.’ He reached toward her with one hand.
‘No!’ She rolled off the bed and backed away to the wall, keeping the bed between them.
He frowned, but remained seated. ‘You cannot hurt me as Petar was hurt,’ he said and she stared at him.
‘Who’s Petar?’ she said unsteadily, but he ignored her.
‘You needn’t worry. I do not have his connection to the Void. Oh I heard about the dream seer’s death,’ he said, seeing the expression on her face. ‘The Faithful’s Seer went there today. She told me what she found. She felt you, Shaan. You do not know what you are, do you?’
She swallowed, afraid to speak.
‘You are the key. You are the one who can unlock the prison that keeps the Birthstone from our world.’
She stared at him, not understanding what he meant.
‘Veila felt you in the Void some time ago, but could not pin you down. She is in the healing room with the others and will be here soon, but I wanted to talk to you first.’
‘I don’t understand.’ She pressed herself against the wall.
‘I want to help you, Shaan.’ Morfessa rose from his chair. ‘The Faithful are looking for you because they believe you are dangerous. And they are not wrong. I believe you are, or you will be.’ He walked toward the end of the bed. ‘But I am not sure . . .’
His words cut off as the door suddenly opened, the thin wood flung back so violently it splintered against the wall. The tall young man she had seen in his garden stood there.
‘Prin! What are you doing?’ Morfessa exclaimed.
But the young man ignored him. He had eyes only for her. He stared at her and she felt a jolt of fear in her gut like a blow. Here was the presence she’d felt before. The very air around him seemed to be filled with energy and she suddenly found it hard to breathe.
‘I felt you,’ he said in a low voice. He didn’t move any closer, but it was as though he were whispering right in her ear. She couldn’t look away. His gaze pierced her as though he were calling to her, soundlessly, drawing her to him. And his eyes! They were a darker, deeper image of her own.
‘Prin!’ Morfessa said, sounding far away
But still he ignored him. ‘Finally, you came to me,’ he said.
Dizziness threatened to overwhe
lm her and Shaan reached out to the wall at her back with both hands. It couldn’t be! Terrified, she pressed herself away from him. His was the voice from her dream. The floor felt unsteady beneath her feet, and her vision faded at the edges. All she could see was his dark eyes, trapping her like a moth under a net.
‘Come with me.’ He extended a hand to her, and she felt her own lifting in response. No, she didn’t want to! She fought against her own body, but her struggles were swamped as a sudden, savage overwhelming need to be near him drowned reason.
‘Prin, stop!’ Morfessa put a hand on his arm and Prin turned his head, his lip curled.
‘I will hurt you, old man.’
Shaan stumbled as his eyes left hers and, looking down, saw she had moved several steps toward him.
‘Shaan, climb over the bed to me,’ Morfessa said, his eyes not leaving Prin’s face.
‘Take-your-hand-off-me!’ Prin’s voice suddenly magnified, reverberating around the small room.
Disorientated and her limbs shaky, Shaan tried to climb across the bed, but Prin’s head snapped back around to her. ‘Shaan,’ he whispered. She whimpered and found that her legs didn’t want to move properly.
‘Come with me.’ His voice was in her head, just as in her dreams, pulling on her, sapping her willpower. Slowly she walked a step toward him. She wasn’t able to stop herself. He was reaching a hand out to her and she went to him. Part of her mind was shrieking at her and she watched in horror as her fingers stretched to touch his.
‘Stop!’ A woman’s voice suddenly said, and Shaan faltered. She saw Prin’s eyes narrow and with a push he sent Morfessa flying across the room into the wall as he turned to face the door.
A small woman with pale blonde hair stood there. She was tiny compared to Prin, but she showed no fear as she looked up at him, her delicate features set in anger. ‘Who are you?’ she demanded.
‘Seer,’ Prin hissed and his face twisted with scorn.
‘Veila!’ Morfessa coughed trying to rise from the floor. ‘Don’t . . .’
‘Quiet! I think you have done enough,’ she snapped at him. ‘Who are you?’ she said to Prin.