Silent Kingdom

by Rachel L. Schade

  “I’m here, Uncle Reylon,” I whispered, stretching out my fingers to grasp his hand. His skin was cold and clammy. “You’ll be fine; you just need to rest…” But even as I said the words, I knew he wouldn’t be fine. He was slipping away. If only he could say the words he was trying to speak…

  I leaned in toward him, heard the breath leave his mouth. It brushed my cheek, warm and moist in the cold, dark room. He groaned again, but then it became a new sound—a word.

  “Pleaaasse…” His voice was barely above a whisper. It cracked as the plea died on his lips.

  Pulling back, I searched his face frantically. “Please, what? What is wrong? Uncle? Uncle!”

  He collapsed onto the pillow, eyes closed, and the servants around him went wild, rushing forward and pushing me out of the way. One shouted at another to fetch the healer. My aunt, on the other side of his bed, was crying hysterically.

  “Give him his medicine! His medicine!” she cried.

  I groped for the glass on his nightstand and charged back to the bed. “Help me,” I begged of the nearest servant, who helped me lift my uncle. I touched the glass to his lips…

  His eyes sprang open and his hand jerked upward, knocking the glass from my fingers. It flew across the room and struck the floor, where it shattered into a thousand shimmering pieces. Deep purple liquid splattered across the floor, onto the rug, and up the wall. The servants were still calling out to one another in worry, but my eyes were locked on my uncle.

  His eyes were burning with fury as he grasped my wrist in a steely clutch. But his eyes were all wrong—they were no longer sky blue, but grey. As grey as his brother’s. “How dare you!” he shouted, his voice strong, angry. “How can you let me die? Why are you poisoning me? Why are you killing me?”

  “No, no!” I screamed, fighting to escape his grip, but he only strengthened the hold. “I didn’t do it! I didn’t know!” His grasp was becoming unbearable; his eyes alight with the same cruel fire that had burned behind my father’s gaze as he’d sentenced me to death.

  And then I was in the Alrenian again, plunging down, down… suffocating…my lungs filling with burning liquid…

  My rolling and thrashing woke me, and I lurched forward in my bed. The sheets lay in a tangled mass at my feet and I was soaked in sweat. Cries of alarm erupted from the other room, followed by racing footsteps as Lyanna and Rev rushed into the room. The light from the candle Rev clutched reflected in their pale, worried faces.

  “What’s wrong, dear?” Lyanna gasped. “A nightmare?” When her gaze fell on me, her soft blue eyes widened even further and she snapped a hand to her mouth.

  With a start I realized the taste of blood was thick in my mouth. I raised my fingers to my lips and brought them away red. Trembling, I focused on catching my breath and reminding myself that I’d only had a nightmare.

  A nightmare about real life.

  “Are you all right?” Rev demanded, his forehead crinkled with concern. Without his glasses, he squinted at me as if he were looking across a great distance.

  I nodded.

  Tears sprang into Lyanna’s eyes. “Oh, honey. Who are you? What has happened to you? Can’t you find a way to tell us? Isn’t there something we could do to help?” She knelt at my bedside, reaching out a hand to pat mine.

  I glanced down at her hand over mine and realized my knuckles were bleeding. Apparently I’d also been punching the headboard in my sleep. No wonder Lyanna and Rev were so concerned.

  Drawing a deep breath, I tried to slow my pounding heart. I was half-convinced that if I blinked, I would open my eyes to the chill darkness of the sea pressing in on me once more.

  “You’re safe here,” Rev told me, reading the fear that must have been shimmering in my eyes. “I promise it’s safe.”

  There had to be a way to communicate with these people who had so kindly offered help. But what was safe to share? Slipping out of bed, I dashed to the front room. In the darkness I almost stumbled into one of the chairs until Rev’s pool of candlelight enveloped me. I glanced back and smiled at him and Lyanna, who stood watching me curiously. I threaded my way around the furniture toward the corner of the room, where Rev’s desk sat. It was strewn with empty paper that might give me a way to communicate, even when I didn’t know what to say. Picking up one of his pens, I dipped it in ink and scribbled down a message.

  I don’t have a home.

  Rev and Lyanna crept up behind me and stared down at the words.

  Lie…make up a name, I told myself. Give them something more. They’re going to ask. My hand trembled over the paper, letting ink drip off the pen’s tip and blot over my words. Think of a name. I concentrated, but my head ached. Only one word forced itself into my brain, repeating over and over as if it were echoing the heartbeat throbbing in my skull. Halia. Halia. Halia.

  “Who are you? What’s your name?” Lyanna whispered.

  At a loss, I gaped up at them both. I can’t lie; the words will not come. What’s wrong with me? Finally, I shook my head.

  Rev ran a hand through his hair. “What happened to you? Can you…tell us about it?”

  I drew a deep breath and stared at the paper. My mind was void of everything but the horrible, terrifying truth. No, I definitely cannot lie.

  Was the curse still on me somehow, even when I couldn’t speak? Would it force me at some point to share the truth again? As much as I hated to lie to these kind people, the truth was too dangerous.

  I can’t tell you my name, I wrote. That, at least, was true.

  “You don’t remember?” Lyanna gasped.

  I simply frowned up at her. Let her believe that. Let them both believe I don’t remember anything.

  They hesitated, exchanging a glance. Then Rev faced me, clearing his throat. “We know you’ve been through…a lot, and we won’t force you to speak about it. If you do not have a home, you have one here,” he offered, and Lyanna nodded, her blue eyes glistening with tears in the candlelight. They were almost the same shade as Gillen’s, but deeper. Stinging with grief, I pushed thoughts of my cousin from my mind.

  “Our little village of Evren is simple, but it is comfortable and quiet,” Rev continued. “Few travelers come into this valley from the sea, and even fewer traverse Evren Forest. Too many still believe in the old tales about the forest. But it’s safe here, and we aren’t troubled much by the outside world. I hope this is reassuring to you.”

  I smiled, touched by their generosity and comforted by their words. Quiet and set away from the world—that is what I needed. But could there be any safety for me, condemned to death if the king’s men ever found me? Or perhaps the visions would return and endanger me again, even here.

  Rev picked up a leather-bound journal from his desk and handed it to me. “Here, take this. It’s empty and I think you’ll find more use for this than I have. Keep it for whenever you need to speak.” He winked at me.

  “Let’s clean you up now and then get you back to bed,” Lyanna said. Walking to the kitchen, she gathered a bowl of water and a bar of soap and gently cleaned my lips and knuckles. Rev fetched me a cup of water, and the cool liquid felt refreshing, but I cringed when my mouth burned and the coppery taste of blood lingered.

  Walking me back to their guest room, Lyanna and Rev helped me climb back into bed and settle under the quilt.

  “Giver of Peace, we ask you to protect this girl with your presence tonight,” Rev said. “Remind her that you are near.”

  I glanced up at him, surprised at the conversational way in which he addressed the Giver of Life. I’d never dared to address him like that until I had faced death. Would he concern himself with my petty fears?

  Lyanna smoothed my hair back from my face, letting her hand rest briefly on my forehead. “Goodnight, dear. Get some rest.”

  Rev set his candle on my nightstand. “If you want, I’ll stay with you.”

  Though I appreciated the gesture, I refused to admit to the weakness and let him coddle me like a child. Trying t
o offer him a reassuring smile, I shook my head.

  “We are nearby if you ever need us,” Rev reminded me. “You are not alone.”

  I grinned at him and slid under my covers. Though he and Lyanna had comforted me, when they returned to their bedroom with their candle and blackness settled around me again, my thoughts kept me awake far too long.

  I can’t lie even to protect myself? What is wrong with me? Where have the visions gone, and why can’t I speak now? Will I ever be forced to speak the truth again?

  I tried to close my eyes, but the darkness reminded me of the sea’s deathly clutches. The shadows were as thick as its depths rising to meet me as I fell, surrounding me, crushing me. This reminder brought my worst fear to the forefront of my mind: thoughts of my father finding me and accusing me again. Staring at me without a shred of love or mercy in his face. Betraying me. Killing me.

  Does my father think I am dead, or will he find me here?

  CHAPTER 4

  The next day was a school day for Evren’s children, Lyanna told me, but she said I would stay home and rest until I was well enough to go. It was strange to think that I’d attend school with other children who lived normal lives. What was it like to not be royalty? What was it like to not bear the weight of the world on your shoulders?

  “Stay in bed and get some sleep,” Lyanna said, patting my cheek. “You still look so pale and tired. I’ll make you a nice, big breakfast.” With a grin, she departed.

  I lay back, trying to settle comfortably into my pillow. Sunlight danced through my window, drawing my eyes to the world outside. Most of the flowers in the garden beside the house were dead, but I recognized rose bushes and lavender, even in their faded, wilted forms. A young maple tree overshadowed the garden, extending bare boughs up to a pure, cloudless sky. Beyond the tree, the valley stretched into the distance, dotted by distant, rolling fields. To the right, the land swept upward toward mountains dark with pines.

  This was vastly different from the palace, with its view of the Alrenian Sea and the castle grounds with both summertime flowers and those that bloomed year-round. I thought about Gillen and our days pretending to fight invisible enemies throughout the palace grounds. Is he safe? Is my aunt safe too? Do they know what my father did, what he did to me?

  I wiped a tear from my cheek.

  Just then Lyanna bustled in and out of my room, bringing me hot porridge, fresh bread with butter, and milk, and stacking a few books at the foot of my bed. “There, dear, if you feel well enough, you can pick a book and I can read to you so you can rest your eyes.”

  Curious, I lifted each book to study the covers in turn: a book of Misrothian history; a book about its neighboring kingdoms, Alrenor and Toryn, and how we had cut ourselves off from them in order to emancipate ourselves from the old Alrenian Empire; the Book of Life that told the stories of the Life-Giver in Alrenian; and even a short volume about the little village of Evren itself. Slowly, I flipped through the pages of the leather-bound Book of Life. The gold etching across the cover intrigued me.

  Lyanna’s brow furrowed. “Surely you’ve been taught about the Giver of Life? The tales of all he’s given and all he does to rescue us, and how some—though it’s rare—have even met him personally.” A smile lit up her face. “Wouldn’t it be exciting to actually speak to him? Do you think he would tell us what it was like to fashion the stars, or why he placed pictures in the sky?”

  I nodded thoughtfully. My tutor at the palace, Meeryn, had told me about the Giver of Life, though she had kept the discussions impersonal. Only priests were to speak with the Giver of Good Things, because they were holy men who had dedicated their lives to his work. The royal priest had taught our family about the Giver and the Book of Life, but none of us read from the book ourselves. We couldn’t read it anyway, since it was in the ancient language of Alrenor, a language forbidden and forgotten in our kingdom. It surprised me that Lyanna and Rev, simple countryside citizens, would have such a holy book among their possessions.

  My heart jolted inside of me as I ran my hand along the cover of the book. It felt wrong to touch it, as if I were desecrating a pure thing. I hadn’t dedicated my life to holiness, like the priests of Misroth. I drew my fingers away.

  But isn’t he the Giver of Answers? Maybe he would know what is wrong with me. The answers are probably in his book, if I could read it.

  Lyanna said the book contained stories of how the Life-Giver rescued us, but he hadn’t rescued my uncle. He had rescued me, but for what? To live exiled from my home and hunted by my own father?

  Frustrated, I decided it was time for a different topic. I lifted Tales of Evren and passed the book to Lyanna.

  With another gentle smile that sparked light in her blue eyes, Lyanna pulled a chair from the corner of the room over to my bedside. “I always wanted a child, to read to and teach,” she said, almost as if to herself. She settled her plump form into the seat and smoothed over the skirt of her cream-colored dress. “But…” Her voice quavered slightly. “That never happened.” She lifted her face to mine and the right corner of her mouth tilted upward once more. “I’m glad I can help you. I just wish you could tell us more about yourself, and how we can help…” Letting her voice drift off, she snapped her head back down to her lap, where the book rested. “Right. Reading. Well then…” And she pried open the cover, settled back in the chair, and began.

  ~~~

  I was in the forest again, staring into those hungry, fathomless eyes of gold. Paralyzed, I felt fear wash over me and waited for the creature to pounce.

  Black, scaly skin, nearly impenetrable, even with the strongest, sharpest blades…claws like daggers…thick yellow fangs…

  The voice echoed through my head, faint yet so close. My breath was stuck in my throat, and I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stumble backwards, couldn’t even blink. The eyes were piercingly bright, burning back into mine and imprinting themselves in my mind, so that even when I finally managed to tear my gaze away, I still saw them looking back at me. Everywhere, behind every tree, every log, every bush—merciless golden orbs watched me.

  Quiet…almost undetectable in the night but for their bright eyes…

  It was going to charge me at any moment, and I couldn’t run. This time, I wouldn’t escape. I was going to die.

  With a fierce shriek, like nothing I’d ever heard before, the eyes sprang forward—the creature was leaping toward me—I was trapped—it was too late—

  My eyes opened to Lyanna and Rev’s guest room…my room. Lyanna still sat in her chair. She’d set the book down in her lap and was studying me, worry crinkling her brow.

  “I hadn’t realized you’d fallen asleep…maybe we should stop. I don’t think reading about these beasts is helping your nightmares,” she finished firmly, plopping the book down on my nightstand.

  Sitting up, I wanted to protest, wanted to tell her I needed to know more. What was that? I saw it!

  “Maybe if I leave, you will sleep more restfully,” Lyanna continued.

  I bit my tongue, swallowed back my words. Hesitantly, I tapped the book’s leather cover.

  Her eyes followed mine, tracing the book’s title with trepidation. “Really…I don’t think…” Lyanna hesitated. “It’s not as if you’ll have to worry about the sedwa, as they are called. They are merely creatures of legend, an old tale some still like to share by the fireside to scare children, or perhaps a rumor the people of Evren began years ago to deter travelers from venturing this way. Our village has been safe; I’ve never even heard of one attacking anyone.” She shook her head. “I don’t see why you’d want to know more about these nightmarish things.”

  Despite her words, she reseated herself with a sigh and picked up the book resignedly. Skimming through the pages, she paused midway through and cleared her throat. “There isn’t much more about them: Rarely seen by villagers, few accounts of the sedwa exist to give an accurate description. In fact, some insist that these creatures are purely the result of overact
ive imaginations. Only a few scattered attacks have been attributed to the sedwa, and then only because no other animals were identified as the predators and the victims’ descriptions of their predators matched those above.

  “These beasts only attack if threatened or first pursued by humans, and they hunt alone. Once one of their kind is attacked or killed, the sedwa do not forget and continue to pursue humans until their bloodlust is quenched… This is certainly not the type of thing you will be learning about in school, once you’re well enough to attend.” She peered at me over the book’s edge. Returning to scanning the page, she finished, “It looks like that’s about all there is to read. I think it’s safe to say they don’t exist.”

  I frowned, craning my neck to see the book and then reaching out to turn the page for her. The text continued, so I gave her a pointed look to say, The chapter continues…see? Why won’t you read it to me?

  Lyanna cleared her throat uncomfortably. “Well…this book is old. There isn’t much talk of this these days…I am unsure if it’s because they are foolish tales founded in myth, or if the royal family has tried to block it all out of Misroth’s memory to try to protect us.”

  My heart leapt with curiosity and anticipation, and I frowned, hoping my eyes looked pleading enough to convince her to continue. Please read. I need to know. I’m not too frightened.

  She sighed, unable to resist. “If you really wish to hear…I suppose there’s no harm.” She drew a deep breath: “Those who do believe in the existence of the sedwa believe they are native animals to the Wastelands south of Toryn. And west of Misroth, beyond the Vorvinian Mountains. They are said to be remnants of many dangerous creatures that were killed off or expelled from Misroth through the protective spell that continues to ward them off from our land.”

  The chair creaked as she stood and set down the book once more. “It’s about lunchtime. I’m sure you’re starving.”

  I crossed my arms across my chest.

  “That is all the book says about that matter,” Lyanna explained. “Only a few old books mention any of those myths about the Wastelands and the spell.”