Oriana's Eyes

  I feel the searing pain of compassion for the boy, now a young man still dealing with the losses and guilt of his past. “So they saved him … he never went to the University?”

  Azura presses her lips together ruefully. “I wish that were true. Unfortunately Liam’s small legs did not carry him far. Perhaps the weight of guilt slowed him down the moment his voice escaped him. For whatever reason, Liam was captured and did live out many years at the University until he escaped just as I did. I think that only made the whole thing worse for him. He not only blames himself for their death, but also that their lives were taken in vain. They had sacrificed, and he failed them.”

  “But it wasn’t his fault! He was too young to know! His parents would not want him to live the rest of his life in grief for a mistake made in infancy.”

  She raises a hand as if in defense, although I did not mean to attack. “Believe me, I know the truth of it, but he will not see. No matter what I say to him, he will never release the burden. See …”—her eyes flicker toward him—“even now he carries it like a sack of stones.” I watch Liam move slowly forward, fighting each step as I had seen before.

  I nod gravely. “It is so sad. Odon has caused so many deaths, but what is far worse is the wreck he’s made of the living.”

  “Yes.” Azura sighs. “I don’t know how, but Liam’s managed to live on. I thought his lack of will might ultimately lead to his death, despite how I’ve tried to change him. Still, something keeps him in this life.”

  I glance at her, wondering if she truly cannot answer her own question. To me it seems clear that it is Azura herself who keeps him alive. Yet the expression of puzzlement upon her face tells me she still has not figured that out.

  Our path leads us to a clearing. Liam heads toward its edge, choosing to use the bordering trees as cover from the open sky.

  “Stay close,” he calls back to Azura, and we comply willingly, now that our discussion has ended.

  “Look! Up there!” It is Jagger who motions toward a patch of clouds, stepping back into the shade of the nearby trees and waving the rest of us after him.

  At first I don’t see anything, merely the burning reflection of the morning sun off the starkness of the cloud. Then as the wind sweeps it aside, I see them. They emerge from the white canvas onto the rich blue of the painted sky. Their billowing white robes and feathered wings blended perfectly into the cloud, rendering them practically invisible. Now they are in clear sight. I count ten Winglarions, specks in the sky but still discernible. They shift the angles of their wings nimbly, using the currents to lift them into greater heights. I gasp as in one motion, together as if one creature they angle into a dive against the wind. The magnificent dive propels them out of sight, behind the treetops that block our view.

  “Odon’s winged soldiers,” Finley comments with distaste. “We should be extra careful; their level of activity concerns me. He could be at odds with an enemy half-blood.”

  The rest of our trip we remain within the shelter of the forest, avoiding open fields and staying low whenever we crest a hill. By midday we reach the final hilltop, the spot where Dorian and Liam brought Azura and me after escaping the cave. I take a seat beneath the familiar shade of the fruit tree, imagining Dorian beside me offering one of the red orbs. Looking up into its branches, so lean compared to the girth of the Great Oak’s, I notice that there are no more green fruit. The ones that remain have reached their full ripeness, but many more lie rotting on the ground beneath.

  There will not be much time to rest before Azura and I enter the caves. But we take some time to open our packs and replenish ourselves with food and drink. I gingerly chew at a slice of bread, spread thickly with a sour berry jam.

  Azura sits in silence beside Liam on a mossy patch of ground. Both chew on their lunches, deep in thought. Not far are Finley, Jagger, and Dugan who converse in low tones. Judging by their gestures and occasional glances upward, they are discussing the reappearance of Winglarions.

  Our time of refreshment is soon over, and I sense the familiar sting of apprehension. I put away what food I cannot force myself to swallow and lean my pack against the tree’s base. I discard my cloak as well, shrugging it off my shoulders. I know it will slow me down. Azura lays her own beside her pack. Both will be a burden to us once we are within.

  Liam leaves our campsite, heading sideways into the woods. When he returns shortly after, he carries a foot-long branch that is thick enough to wrap a hand around comfortably. He coats the top with an oily wax that he has brought inside his satchel. Handing it to Azura, he says, “When you are past the first few guards you will reach a series of black tunnels. You can use this as a torch by lighting it on one of the lamps before then.”

  Azura nods; we are both familiar with the set of tunnels that contain no lamps. I make a mental note of the number of tunnels preceding them and then go over the guards, visualizing their stations and counting them inside my mental picture.

  “And the Winglarions?” Azura asks hesitantly.

  Finley approaches from behind Liam, flanked by Dugan and Jagger. “We’ll keep our eyes upward. You just worry about getting in and out as fast as possible.”

  Together, Azura and I give a short nod, perhaps agreeing that it is the only goal our minds can comprehend at the moment. There are too many numbers, steps, and tunnels rolling through my head for me to be able to worry about something else.

  The others follow Azura and me to the edge of the forest where the land slopes toward the black opening of the cave. Looking down at it, I cannot decide if it more resembles the pupil of an eye—or a gaping mouth prepared to swallow us.

  I realize now more than ever how grateful I am that Azura is beside me, prepared to accompany me the entire distance. I steal a nervous glance in her direction. Her own eyes are turned toward the sky, noting our vulnerability once we leave the forest. I imitate her, scanning the blue expanse splattered with white. As far as I can tell it is clear.

  Azura seems satisfied as well, and together we start down the hill. We walk at a brisk pace, unwilling to take the chance that someone is watching us from behind the clouds. Still, it is not solely the fear from above that plagues us, but the approaching hole—the entrance into Odon’s caves.

  There is no time to think or change our minds; once the entrance to the abyss looms over us, we have no choice but to enter. The danger from the skies outweighs the danger from within. As I step out of view of the sun’s heated gaze, I’m jolted by the numbing chill of the cave’s eerie breath.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  “One, two, three …” I hear Azura counting footsteps under her breath. It is the only way I can tell she is still standing beside me. The darkness of the cave we are traversing leaves me virtually blind. As she reaches three I hear her stop to move forward. I react quickly, grasping for her arm in the black emptiness. I find a fold of her clothing and hold her still.

  “It’s six,” I whisper, counting the last three steps before starting forward and pulling her along with me. There’s no time for wounded pride in here. We have to get the counts right, or it could mean not just our lives, but Malise’s and Aaron’s as well.

  We take a turn into a lighted hallway. The guards have just turned the corner at the far end. Here we will light our torch and take the last few turns toward the cells. Azura wastes no time and reaches up at one of the flickering lamps. It is square shaped like a small house with a hinged door on the front. Azura opens it and thrusts the torch inside it. Flames engulf the tip in seconds. I turn my gaze away until it settles to a steady burning. With the glowing fire holding us at the center of a globe of light, we descend into the final corridor.

  Azura and I are breathing heavily as we set off at a fast jog down the last tunnel. On either side it opens up to other turns that seem to beckon us into endless mazes of darkness. We pay them no heed, keeping our eyes straight ahead. As the tunnel bends, we slow our pace. I feel my muscles tensing from the strain. The long walk had a
ffected me more than I expected; now I can feel its toll on my body. Still I push forward, gaining a burst of new energy at the prospect of reaching our destination. After a final turn, a row of lanterns appears on the stone walls. We have reached the cells.

  On either side, embedded into the rock, are heavy wooden doors. A sight that is not new to my eyes. To my left I spot the one most familiar, the doorway into the cell I had shared with Azura. I veer clear of it, moving past it to the doors further down.

  Azura starts toward the far end opposite from me, raising the torch above her head so that she can peer on tiptoe through the door’s barred window. In one hand I see she has already retrieved the thin stone from the folds of her dress. She must use it to pick the lock once we find Malise and Aaron.

  I situate myself in front of one of the doors, raising myself as high as I can to see through the window. The room within is devoid of light, and without a torch of my own, I have no way of seeing in. “Malise?” I call, my voice bouncing off the stones like flecks of glass. There is no response. I move to the next door, repeating my previous actions; nothing. I continue down the corridor, calling into each barred window, holding my breath for some kind of sound. For a moment I think I have heard a reply, but I soon realize it is my own voice reverberating in the corridor.

  This is taking too much time. I hear a whisper that startles me, but soon realize it is Azura, her torch above her head, searching the empty cells on the opposite wall. We should be leaving by now, and still we have not found either Malise or her brother. I didn’t expect them to be so far into the tunnel of cells.

  I force myself to increase my speed, taking less time to wait for an answer before continuing on to another doorway. The lamps around me flicker as I pass, their trembling reflecting my own inner fear. I notice Azura has quickened her pace, but the cells stretch on before us, and not one seems to contain our captive friends.

  Finally I step to the center of the tunnel, positioning myself so that I face toward the doorways still before us. If they aren’t here, we need to know, and we need to know now before it is too late for us as well. I take a breath, thinking through once more the need to take this step. If we don’t find them soon, then we will be found.

  I force a long call, “Maa-lise!” It is not as loud as I hoped, but still it echoes down the tunnel, scattering into many voices.

  “Why did you do that?” Azura hisses. I see her eyes wide in the flickering torchlight.

  “I had to. If we don’t find them soon, we’ll be caught anyway …” My voice trails off into a mumble. I’m almost sure I heard another one, not just an echo of my own.

  Azura watches me. “I heard it too.” She starts down the tunnel, the flames of the lamps reaching toward her like begging prisoners. “Malise?” she beckons softly.

  First nothing, and then a sigh that seems to float to the floor: “Help …”

  We run farther down the tunnel, and then we see a pale finger slid between the bars of the door.

  “Hold this.” Azura shoves the burning torch at me, and I snatch it away so she may set to work on the lock. I hold it above her to give light. Her hands are shaking, and we both sense the urgency in her work. Despite her nerves, they are well trained.

  When I hear the click of the lock opening, I release my breath, using my free hand to help her open the door. Unexpectedly, Malise collapses onto the floor in front of us. Apparently she was resting her full weight upon the door.

  Azura helps her to her feet. “Where’s Aaron?” she whispers soothingly, trying to hide how frantic we are to be leaving. Her eyes search the cell, and I lift the torch higher to illuminate its depths. Aaron is nowhere in sight.

  Malise finally gains control of herself. “They … they took him.” Her voice is dry, and the light of the flames reveals purple circles beneath her black eyes. I wonder if she has slept at all since she was taken here. I’m certain she has had no food or drink.

  “Do you know where?” I ask doubtfully. Malise may not even know where she is.

  As I expected she shakes her head. She manages to get to her feet, using Azura’s arm for support.

  I look up at Azura, hoping she has some plan of action in mind. We can’t just leave without Aaron. But one glance tells me she is as helpless as I feel.

  “Could he be in another cell?” Azura ventures, taking a glance backward.

  Malise shrugs, and the gesture seems to exhaust her. Have they already done their worst? Or is her weakness due to lack of nourishment? “I don’t know, but I think they took him to the room … the one for interrogation.”

  This makes Azura turn gray, and her face is too grim to look at for long. “Then we need only wait; they’ll bring him back.” Azura moves to heave the door closed. I offer my aid to Malise with my free hand.

  “We should find a place to …” My voice is caught in my throat. My gaze reaches past Azura as she shoves her weight against the heavy door. Her eyes meet mine, and she whirls around, a cry escaping her lips at the sight that has riveted my feet in place.

  The Odonian’s piercing blue eyes wash over us, showing a surprise that is soon overtaken by rage. Behind him two guards surround Aaron, each gripping one arm in a relentless fist. His head lolls forward below his shoulders, and a dark liquid leaks from beneath his hair. I can only assume it is blood.

  There is a moment in which time stops. The fire freezes, I am not breathing, and no one is moving. I simply stare, the realization of my worst fears coming true, paralyzing every muscle in my body. We’ve been caught, and there’s no escape. Odon will come for us, and we will never again see the Great Oak. Tor was right. I have betrayed Dorian. How could I have been so foolish?

  The Odonian’s mouth opens; then his jaw is moving, but no words are coming out. He was not expecting our presence either. His eyes keep me in place, familiar eyes that bore into my skull. Have I seen them before? They are focused solely on me, in—could it be recognition? Does this man know me? He is the first to move. He lunges towards me, his grasping fingers bent like talons.

  Azura is the first to react. To my surprise she rushes behind the Odonian and forcibly shoves him into the cell. It is fortunate she had not yet closed the door. The remaining gap allows the Odonian to fall right through. Malise finds the energy to slam against the door, joining Azura in using their full weight to push it closed.

  Then Malise grabs at Aaron, who is slowly gaining awareness. The guards holding him stand in bewilderment, unsure how to react without direct orders from their leader, the Odonian. Luckily no sound can be heard from within the cell; perhaps his head striking the stone floor rendered him unconscious. Just as Aaron is safely in Malise’s hands, Azura clicks the lock of the door shut, withdrawing her hand that still holds the smooth stone pick.

  They hurry toward me. I suppose they haven’t noticed that I still have not moved. I can’t; something more than my own fear is keeping me in place. My vision is slowly fading, and a pain is rising from the base of my neck into my skull. A memory flashes, a white room, those blue eyes, and a voice. I try to fight it, the ice of grasping hands keeping me from escaping. They don’t want me to leave, they want me here … they want me. My forearm burns, the flames of the torch still clutched in my hands, licking at exposed skin. When I drop it, the clatter on the floor sounds like a whisper far in the distance. It is the last thing I hear before I slip into darkness and silence.

  I wake with what would have been a gasp if there wasn’t a hand clasped over my mouth. I can’t see anything. The cold damp of a stone floor beneath me shocks me more fully awake.

  Malise speaks near to me. “She’s awake.”

  “Where … what happened?” I struggle to orient myself in the blackness.

  “Shh! There’s no time for that now.” That is Azura. “We have to get out of here.”

  I sit up, and the memories of the past few hours return in an onslaught—the journey through the tunnel, finding Malise and then the Odonian. I push that last memory away forcibly. “W
here are we? Which tunnel?” There are no lit lamps on the walls. I dropped the torch among the cells. Did they pick it up?

  “I … I’m not sure …,” Azura says shakily. “When you passed out, you dropped the torch, and it went out. There was no time to get it; Malise and I had to pull you and Aaron out of there. Everything happened so quickly. We were just moving as fast as we could. There was no way of keeping track of where we were going.”

  “Aaron! Is he okay?” I recall the sight of him bleeding, hanging like a limp doll between the two guards.

  “He is able to walk on his own, but we must get him out quickly. He is badly injured.” Malise is the one to answer, her voice edged with panic.

  “The question is can you walk? Those guards could come looking for us at any second. The only way we’re getting out of here anytime soon is if we work together.” I feel the warmth of Azura’s hand on my arm, and I slowly rise to my feet, shaking off the lingering dizziness. Why has it happened again? What thoughts were going through my mind? The last question can wait. I fear that its answer will cause another collapse.

  “I’m fine, which way did you enter from?”

  “We came in from your left, and the tunnel continues down on the right,” Azura explains, relief audible in her voice now that I am able to help.

  “Okay, I guess we better continue down. Dorian mentioned that many of the tunnels are connected to each other. Perhaps we’ll find someplace familiar if we keep going.”

  I realize that the situation is not as simple as I have made it sound. True, many of the tunnels connect, but many others are surely dead ends. We may get lucky and be in one of the joined tunnels, but then again we could be stuck down here for much longer, blindly groping for a way out or, worse, running into more of Odon’s men.

  “Let’s link hands,” I say, grabbing hold of Azura’s. “We don’t want to lose each other down here.” Once everyone is accounted for, I start down the tunnel at a fast walk, hoping the pace is not too taxing for Aaron. I hope he has not lost much blood.