Journey to Queyon: The Innocence Cycle, Book 3
Page 35
The wildness in Lillianna’s face cleared for a moment. The brooding eyes of an innocent child reached toward Elena. “I-I just wanted to be with my parents. I wanted to feel safe again.” Her chest constricted with a single, punching sob.
Instinctively, Elena scooted closer and put her arm around the girl. She recoiled, but Elena held firm. “Oh, Lillianna.” Elena swallowed a sob. “There are people who will welcome you, who can take you in and give you community. I have found that to be true, though I fought it fiercely at first.”
The girl shoved Elena back. “When I look like this?” She pointed to her scars and bandages. “I’m hideous. Who would embrace this?”
Elena laid her hand on Lillianna’s scarred cheek. “I would.”
“Why?” The girl slapped Elena’s hand away and rose. “What do you want from me? Do you need me for some kind of twisted threesome? Do you need a freak to get off?” she spat out.
Elena startled and stumbled backward at the ferocity of the girl’s response. Celdorn and Silvandir jumped to their feet ready to intervene. Elena held up a hand to stop them.
“My body is just as ugly as my face. Can’t I be left alone even now?” She tugged her dress open and exposed a chest that was half crimson red and sagging like the flesh on her face and neck. “Is this what you want? Does this turn you on?” Elena turned away as did the men. “I didn’t think so. Will you let me be now?” The girl’s lip curled in a snarl.
Elena drew a few ragged breaths before attempting to speak. “Lillianna, you misunderstood me,” she whispered. “At one time, I carried scars too. I couldn’t stand to look at myself in a mirror.” She gulped a breath. “I want nothing from you. I won’t use you. I no longer choose to live the way we were trained. I want only to be your friend—something we were never allowed.” She reached out her hand to the girl. “Please. You don’t have to remain alone. Please ...”
Lillianna stared at the tears that ran down Elena’s cheeks, her own face contorting. “You... you want me as a friend? Me?”
Elena nodded, her lips forming a shaky smile. “There are no other girls here. In that way, I’m still alone.”
A tremor started in Lillianna’s belly and rippled through her body until every part of her shook violently, fighting to restrain the emotion that was about to burst the dam. The girl dropped to her knees and curled into a sobbing ball as she lost the battle. Elena knelt alongside her and wrapped her in her arms. Together they cried as the men stood by silent and watching.
Finally, when the tears subsided, Elena rose and offered her hand to Lillianna. She pulled her toward Celdorn; Lillianna yanked back. But Elena was the stronger and won out.
“Ada, I would like Lillianna to travel with us.”
The girl stared at her with surprise then fixed her gaze on the ground as the men turned their attention toward her.
Celdorn hesitated, glancing at Lillianna. “Let’s talk over here,” he said to Elena. They moved to where the others would not hear. “Little one, are you certain? I saw how you reacted when she arrived. Are you strong enough?”
“I believe so. I was just caught off guard by the chaos inside her head. But she’s calmed down even in the short time she’s been with us. And she could keep me company and be an escort during more... delicate moments, so I need not always have a man with me.”
Celdorn arched a brow. “She hardly qualifies as a guardian.”
Elena lifted her chin. “I know that, but it would be nice to have another girl around.”
“And you’re at peace with Keymar accompanying us?”
“I never held his words against him. He did. He punished and tormented himself. I understood why he spoke as he did.”
Celdorn sighed. “It will be more awkward having a girl with us.”
Elena glared at her ada. “What am I?”
“You know what I mean, Elena,” Celdorn said more firmly. “It has been difficult enough for the men to adjust to having you in our company. Another girl makes it even more complicated.” Elena couldn’t stop the hurt that gripped her, but her jaw set as she fought back tears.
“I’m not saying you are difficult.” Celdorn laid his hand on Elena’s head. “What I meant was that my men and I have certain ways we do things and a certain freedom with each other. Now that you are with us, we must be more careful so as not to offend.” Elena continued to glare at him. “For instance, we often just strip out of our clothes at night when we travel alone. With you, we remain dressed. It is not a burden, but it requires more sensitivity.” He paused and glanced at Lillianna. “This girl is younger than you. She doesn’t know us at all, and she’s emotionally fragile. I see her presence as a hindrance not a help.”
“As you would have me not many months ago,” Elena argued. “Ada, she obviously doesn’t feel safe in the other camp. If she were traveling with us, I might be able to help her. Or maybe Elbrion can go inside, like he did with me.” She clasped Celdorn’s hand. “She is broken, through no fault of her own. She’s an orphan who just wants to be loved. How can we send her away?” she asked, turning her most pitiful gaze up to him.
“What if the darkness is too strong in her? We must protect you.”
“I don’t sense that at all. She’s just a broken child, Celdorn. They did evil to her; she is not evil. At least that’s what you’ve told me when I feel their filth. Is she any different? Look at her.” She turned toward the girl, who had slumped down onto a log and nearly curled into a ball. “She’s so alone, so lost. She would rather be dead than continue. Part of the reason she destroyed her body was so no man would want to touch her again. I understand that.” Elena swiped at the tears that slid down her cheeks.
Celdorn studied the girl and sighed. “You’re right. How can we turn her away?” He turned his gaze back to Elena with a smile. “You have great heart, little one. I’m so proud of you,” he said, his voice full of affection. “We will take Lillianna with us, but you must let me know if you sense any shift or change in her that could be to your detriment. Getting you safely to Queyon is our highest priority, and we must immediately deal with anything that might hinder that purpose. Will you agree to that?”
Elena threw her arms around Celdorn. “Yes, Ada, of course. Thank you so much.”
He chuckled as he kissed the top of her head.
When they rejoined the others, Celdorn announced, “It seems our inner circle will be expanding. Keymar and Lillianna will be accompanying us to Queyon.”
Lillianna’s head shot up, and she stared at Celdorn, her mouth agape. Elena felt the swell of warmth filled the girl’s chest, and it made her smile.
“We will depart in one hour,” Celdorn said. “Get the gear loaded up quickly and assemble the men. Lillianna, you will travel in the cart with Elena until such time as she is able to ride her Ilqazar again. Then we must find you a mount. Keymar, you can send the rest of your men back to Zarandiel with this information. They’ll need all available Guardians with the children.”
Elena moved to Lillianna’s side. “It’s not so bad in the cart but riding is so much better.”
Lillianna seemed stunned. She glanced around at the others, finally looking at their faces. Suddenly, she grabbed Elena’s arm, her nails painfully digging into her flesh. “Why does that man look on fire?” she whispered, pointing discreetly toward Mikaelin.
Elena stiffened. Her eyes shot to Mikaelin. She saw nothing, but her heart pounded. “He...he is gifted. When the Jhadhela is with him, that happens.”
Lillianna’s face screwed up with confusion, but her attention was diverted when Keymar approached and told her that they must return to the tent to gather her belongings.
After she left, Elena immediately approached Mikaelin. “You must stay away from that girl.”
Mikaelin stared at her from beneath his hood, his expression unreadable. “Why?”
“She says you were glowing,” she whispered. “Mikaelin, don’t touch her. It will destroy you.”
Elbrion overheard
the exchange. “I agree, Mikaelin. We need you functioning at your best.”
Mikaelin’s head bobbed nervously. “I’ll be careful. If I had a bent toward self-flagellation, I can think of plenty of less terrifying ways to do it.” He chuckled, but when Elena scowled at him, he held up his hands in surrender. “All right, all right, I’m taking you seriously. I will show the utmost caution.”
Celdorn interrupted. “We need to move out. Pack up your things.”
Elena watched Mikaelin as he limped away, hoping they would be able to keep Lillianna away from him. Her stomach twisted at the thought of what might happen if they failed.
Chapter 44
The tunnel had burrowed deep into the earth and now was rising. After what seemed to Mishon to be hours, they climbed dirt stairs framed by tree roots. At the top was a door that looked as if it were made of vines but was as solid as any wood. The green lady pushed it open with ease, and they stepped into a nighttime glade lit by tiny lanterns.
Although it was well after sunset, the trees of Alsimion were awake and chiming their beautiful music. The children stood in the clearing and gaped at the scene around them. Green mists swirled around the perimeter of the glade, gradually taking on solid form. Dozens of liorai took shape and gathered around the children carrying platters of berries, cheese, bread, and cups of some kind of nectar. A table the length of five men appeared out of nowhere. It had short legs, so people could sit on the ground to eat around it. The liorai set their platters down and encouraged the children to enjoy the feast.
Surprisingly, the children didn’t seem to be afraid of them like they were of everything else. They stopped clinging to Mishon and set to eating as if they hadn’t been fed in days. Whenever a platter was empty, another would appear. They could eat and drink as much as they wanted. Most of the children had never been taught the proper way to behave at table. They were using their hands to eat, smearing food on their faces. Slurping and burping and other less polite noises were going on all around Mishon. He sat straight and stiff for a while, glancing at the liorai to see if they were disgusted and wondering if he should repeat—again—the lesson on manners. The forest ladies didn’t look bothered though.
“Is something wrong with the food?” a liora asked Mishon. “Are you still concerned it might be fairy food and leave you our helpless prisoner?”
Mishon looked up, startled, and blushed. He hadn’t realized he’d been staring and not eating. “No, my lady. This is a wonderful feast. I meant no offense. I was just thinking.”
A tinkling laugh. “No offense taken. Please eat, young sir, and then we will provide a place for you to rest.”
Mishon gave a stiff nod and focused on his supper. The more he tasted, the more he wanted to try. Everything was so delicious. There were even things he guessed were vegetables, but they tasted good.
When the children had eaten their fill, the liorai led them to a hollow in the rocks large enough to hold pallets for all the children. The beds were woven of vines and leaves and draped with blankets that felt as if they were spun of the softest wool from baby lambs.
“You may rest here for as long as you need,” Wistia told them. “You are protected.”
And Mishon believed her.
~
Charaq was frantic. They’d been searching all night, unable to find any sign of Mishon or the other children anywhere around the thicket. When the burned structure was cool enough, they hacked through the charred branches, but found no remains beneath its frame.
More chilling were the small footprints they found under the thicket nearest the trees. Dozens of tiny prints pressed into the soft forest floor pointed toward the roots of the three massive trees that bordered the thicket. And then they just stopped. No sign of the children climbing the trees or cutting through the densely woven vines. It looked as if they walked toward the trees and just vanished.
Charaq scrubbed at his beard as each of his men reported back with the same news. No trace of the little ones. “Oh, Mishon, where are you?” he whispered.
A breeze moved through the forest, increasing the music of Alsimion’s trees. Charaq clutched his damaged arm to his side, cursing the pain and the Zakad, as the wind wrapped his cloak around him.
“This way,” a voice whispered in the breeze. Charaq glanced around but didn’t see anyone. Perhaps a hundred yards away, a tree began to thump a steady rhythm with its root, the leaves above clanking noisily. He looked over his shoulder at his men, who were heading off in the opposite direction. No one seemed to hear anything.
Charaq inched forward, listening. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled. “Hello,” he called.
Another swish of the wind. “Come away ...”
Away where? Charaq rolled his shoulders, fighting the chill that swept up his back. It sounded like a woman’s voice, but it had an unearthly quality to it. He kept his hand on the hilt of his sword, remembering the stories Celdorn had told about Anakh.
When he was almost to the tree that was thumping its root, a green mist began to swirl to the side of the trunk. Charaq’s mouth hung open as a beautiful lady in a flowing gown took shape—and a wonderful shape it was. She looked nothing like the foreboding, hideous description Celdorn had given of Anakh. And where Celdorn and his men had felt dread, Charaq felt a deep sense of tranquility and ease. His mind warned him, however, to keep up his guard.
“You are looking for the children?” the woman asked.
Charaq felt compelled to take a knee. “Yes, my lady. Do you know where they are? I’m concerned for their welfare with the Zakad about.”
The woman tipped her head. “And one is especially precious to you.”
His heart thumped hard against his chest. Was she playing a game with him? He rose and grasped the hilt of his sword again. “What do you know of him?”
“Only that he values you as well.” A broad smile. “Be at peace. We have done him no harm.” Her voice sang the words and that deep sense of calm gripped him once more.
“We?” Charaq’s eyes scanned the woods. “Who is with you, and where are the children?”
“I’m not playing games with you, Charaq.” His neck tingled again at the use of his name—and that she had read his thoughts.
He dropped his chin. It was probably best not to be confrontational at this point. “I’m sorry, my lady. It has been a long night. Can you take me to the children?”
“It is why I summoned you.” She stepped closer, and her scent, which was like rain on a field of wild daisies, filled his senses, making it difficult to focus. Her hand reached for his face; a finger trailed his jawline. “Your heart is so heavy. Come away and rest.”
Charaq’s arms and legs went slack. He fought to stay upright. Was she working some kind of spell on him? He gazed into her deep green eyes, forest pools, wells of such depth. There was no malice there.
“You have held your grief so tightly, taken no time to mourn your friends or to heal from the agony of the girls’ deaths. You punish yourself for failing when the circumstances were out of your control.”
A deep sob rumbled its way up his throat, and his shoulders sagged. “Sarana and Amia were my responsibility. Their deaths are on my head.”
When the woman laid her hand on his shoulder, it held no more weight than a cobweb and yet a force blasted through her palm that knocked him to his knees and left his flesh throbbing. Then the tears started. He buried his face in his hands as images of Amia’s body lying at the foot of the cliff, twisted and entwined with the body of the man who had stolen her life—the coward who had used her as a shield and then pulled her over th edge of the cliff with him when he fell. Her innocent face locked in a death-stare of frozen screams. The images swirled and merged with Sarana, dressed in white, blackened by self-applied soot, a visual message left behind as she lay mangled in the rocks beneath the tower from which she’d leapt. Strong, resilient Sarana took the secrets of what had destroyed her to her death.
A voice whispered into his grief.
“Perhaps she carried a guilt for a life she could have saved, should have saved?”
“She wasn’t responsible. I was,” he sobbed.
“Hmm ...” The lady stroked his cheek, gathered his tears. “Responsible for not being able to control the actions of others? For not seeing every possibility or having foresight to know what was around the next turn or in the mind of a coward, who would use a child as a shield?”
“Lady, you don’t understand.” A groan, a twist in his gut. “I was all they had left. Their lives were entrusted to me.”
Her hands slid down his arms and clasped his. “The responsibility for another’s life is never in these fallible hands. Without perfect insight, without the ability to see the future, we cannot bear that responsibility. We can only do what is in our power to do, fallible as it may be, dear Charaq. You are not Qho’el. You are mere mortal. Stop blaming yourself for not being more.”
Charaq listened. Then blinked. Finally, he scrubbed at the tears and wiped his nose on his sleeve.
“I am not telling you to staunch the tears. Freely grieve, my friend. These are valuable, cherished lives you’ve lost. But do not continue to punish yourself as if you pushed them from the heights. To do so lessens your ability to care for the one who survived, who also blames himself, young as he is.”
Charaq startled. “Mishon blames himself? For what?”
The lady sighed, such a sad sound coming from one so beautiful, so perfect. “Had he only been bigger, stronger, had he only defended his mother when the men first came, none of the rest would have followed. His entire family would still be alive.”