Silent Kingdom

by Rachel L. Schade

  “One instant more and the sedwa would have killed you.” He touched my forehead, brushed the hair back from my face. Though my heart thudded against my chest and I studied him warily, his touch was gentle. My fear dissipated and relief washed over me; his manner told me he meant no harm. I was safe.

  He reached down to the wound in my arm and without warning, plucked the remains of the arrow from it. I opened my mouth to protest, but as I did, the pain melted away. Where the wound had been, only a tear in my sleeve and a small white scar remained.

  Questions tumbled through my brain. Who are you? How did you do this? Where did you come from? But somehow I felt I should know the answers already and did not dare ask them. If I could think hard enough, maybe I would remember, but every answer that flitted through my brain seemed more impossible than the last: a sorcerer? I had never heard of such power, not outside tales. Someone who had unusual powers such as I did?

  Instead, I whispered, “You saved my life.”

  “It was not yours to lose,” the man responded. A smile spread across his lips, lit up his face, and crinkled his eyes. “Your time isn’t over yet. There is much left for you to do.”

  And the answers came to me: as naturally and easily as if I’d known them all along. Perhaps I had. Somehow, impossibly, this man was the Life-Giver, and he meant for me to use the visions and knowledge I had been given. “But my words are dangerous,” I protested. “And—and my visions. I cannot control them, or stop myself from speaking the truth when I shouldn’t. I do not even know how they came to me…I hoped you would explain…”

  The man smiled again, his dark eyes shining in the starlight. “You will learn about it all in time; it is something for you to discover and master on your own.”

  Sighing, I frowned back up at him, dissatisfied with his answer, but he merely shook his head and continued gently. “Your words are a gift, though few want to listen to them,” he said. “The real danger comes from the words they are listening to.”

  The king’s lies. This was a revelation I felt no urge to vocalize, and there was peace in that.

  He nodded his assent, as if he had heard my thought. “Truth has been silent in your kingdom far too long.”

  Instead of feeling relief in knowing I had received my gift for a purpose, in having a few answers at last, I was only frustrated. “Why has my knowledge of the truth been gone for so long? And why couldn’t I speak for years? I was mute!”

  The man’s eyes seemed dimmer with sadness. “Sometimes we think we are held back by an obstacle, when our fear is what created the obstacle.”

  I frowned, letting the meaning of his words sink in. “It was my own fault I was mute. But if I could not control my gift before, how could I hold it in and choose not to speak?”

  “You may not yet know how to control your gift, but you can refuse it. And in your fear, you did.”

  My mind flitted back to that night long ago, when in fear and anger I’d cried out to the Life-Giver, pleading, wishing not to speak again. “But more and more, I have longed to speak again,” I said thoughtfully. Perhaps I had warmed to the idea of my gift more as I’d wished for answers. “But even when I can speak, I don’t know how to share the things I know. If I go home and share them, I will die and nothing will change.”

  The man shook his head. “Don’t be afraid, Halia. You will not be alone.”

  I sat up as anger flared in my chest. I’d gone years without answers and with little comfort, and this is what he had to say? “Alone?” I snapped. “I’m always alone! I never have words to speak the thoughts trapped in my head. Or I have all the right words at the wrong time!”

  Then as quickly as the anger appeared, it vanished and shame crept in to replace it. This man was the Giver of Life himself, and he had saved mine. What was I doing? I opened my mouth to blurt out an apology, but he stopped me.

  “It’s forgotten. Now it’s your turn to forget: your fear, your doubt.” He studied my face. “Is it really the fear of death that you struggle against, or fear of the burdens and pain you carry? Fear that you are insufficient? Are you ready to face your past?”

  I avoided his gaze, staring off into the shadowy forest. I swallowed. “I—I don’t know. I have no wish to die. Everyone struggles to face death.”

  “Some struggle to face life most of all.” Standing, he reached out a hand and helped me to my feet. “But possessing the courage to live brings its own rewards. If you wish to truly help the ones you care for, overcome your fear and use your gift of knowledge.”

  As I let go of his hand, the world tipped and my vision blurred, but everything quickly righted itself. I scanned my surroundings in wonder. To the east, the sky was brightening and the stars were fading, melting in the gathering light of a swiftly approaching day. Though the air had been frigid earlier, I felt warm.

  Then I remembered the man’s words. How was I supposed to use my gift? How exactly could I save Gillen, Velaire, and my people? I turned back, but he had vanished.

  In the moments before dawn, the earth lay still and silent.

  CHAPTER 11

  I gathered my bow and empty quiver, still lying where I’d dropped it as I fled from Kyrin, and set off, eager to leave the woods behind. With the grey light of morning brightening the forest and an unnatural warmth and vigor coursing through my body, the journey toward home felt like it took only a few minutes.

  As I stood at the edge of Evren Forest, staring at the distant log cabin I had looked upon as my home for four years, my mind reeled with a thousand thoughts.

  How could I slip past Kyrin’s cabin without him seeing me? And what about Avrik? Is he safe? I wondered. Are Shilam and Bren all right?

  Had the past night really happened? Or had it been another one of my wild nightmares? If I hadn’t borne scars on my arm and collarbones, I might have convinced myself I’d imagined everything.

  I even dreaded returning to Rev and Lyanna, knowing how terrified they must have been and wondering what I would even say to them. All of these years I had been mute—what would they say if I spoke now? How could I explain? The man in the woods—the Giver himself—had told me that my words were a gift, but they did not feel like one.

  Worst of all, I had an idea of what he wanted me to do. How can I go back to Misroth and accuse the king of treason? Face my mother and father again…Tears sprang into my eyes. How will anything I have to say be better received this time? Why would anyone even believe me over the lies they have heard for so long?

  My mind flitted to Marke and his group of men who met in secret. But they were just a few. And who was to say I would even survive in the capital long enough to compel enough people to believe me?

  “Elena?” a familiar voice called my name and made my heart leap. I glanced up and saw Rev and two other men rushing through the trees. As he neared me, Rev dropped his bow to stretch his arms wide for a hug. I ran into his embrace, my tears falling freely now.

  “Thank the Giver of Blessings! You are alive!” He was so warm and safe—how could I ever let go?

  Rev was the first to pull back and looked down to study me, reassuring himself that it was truly me and I was unharmed. Behind his glasses, his eyes were shadowed with dark circles, and his hair stood all on end, tousled in every direction. He noted the tears in my clothes and his forehead creased with worry. “Are you all right?”

  I nodded. Glancing over his shoulder, I noticed Bren’s and Shilam’s fathers, each looking similarly ragged and weary. I turned back to Rev, hoping my question was clear.

  “Yes, Bren and Shilam are all right. They are home. Once we ensured that Shilam’s wounds were not serious, we left to search for you and Avrik. Kyrin came forward to say that he found his son, and he has been out looking for you all night as well. What a relief that you are all right! We must hurry home—Lyanna has been so worried…”

  At the mention of home, weariness descended on me. Rev reached out to lift me into his arms. I wanted to protest, but it seemed useless. In h
is mind, I was still his child, a child he had nearly lost last night. He didn’t know the burdens I carried.

  “It’s all right,” he said as he carried me out into the open.

  The first rays of sunlight sprang over the horizon and bathed the snow in a golden light. I glanced up at the sky, soaking in the red, pink, and orange hues of a morning I’d thought I would never see. The last of the energy and warmth from my encounter with the man in Evren Forest slipped away and I longed for bed.

  But no matter my relief and exhaustion, one thought refused to stop replaying through my head, haunting me with the possible answers attached to it: What am I going to do now?

  ~ ~ ~

  I knew the instant my dreams transformed into a vision. Everything I saw became clearer and more vivid, feeling all too real compared to the muddled dreams. I was outside, standing amongst a group of shadowy figures I at first did not recognize under a starless night. On either side of us, two lone trees stretched bare limbs toward the sky, their branches bending and swaying like writhing ghouls in the chill breeze. An eerie silence hung in the air, so palpable I could feel dread clawing its way up my throat.

  “Did you hear that?” one of the men muttered, pointing a nocked bow toward the sky.

  The men cast anxious glances all around them, but I could see nothing in the blackness beyond the trees. I stared until the clouds moved, and, under a brief flash of moonlight, I discerned the mud and murk—we were standing before a vast swamp under an open sky. The silence gave way to the sound of wind whispering through the tall grass behind us, grass that stretched endlessly over the flatlands behind us.

  “There is nowhere to hide,” another man hissed. “Crouch low! Get down!” He stretched out his arm and shoved the man beside him to the earth. Another cloud shifted and starlight glinted off the prostrate man’s golden hair. My breath caught in my throat. Gillen. Then the breeze wafted the clouds back over the stars and we were immersed in darkness once again.

  Another sound emerged, a sound that turned my heart to lead in my chest and made me wonder if it was even still beating. The very air around us seemed to shudder with the slow, heavy throbs of great wings approaching us. I scoured the sky, but in vain. The sound could have been coming from any direction and I couldn’t even make out a shadow in the night.

  All around me, men dove to the earth in a panic, raising their weapons in various directions and stifling their breaths in a desperate attempt to melt into the darkness. An instant of quiet swept over us again, and then the screaming started.

  “Over there!” a man in front of me cried, pointing to our right, where a great shadow seemed to consume one of his comrades.

  Chaos erupted as arrows sang and men cowered in terror. More shouts pierced the night and then, as someone dove atop Gillen in an attempt to shield him, something warm and wet splashed against my cheek and dripped into my open mouth. I gagged on the coppery taste of blood.

  ~ ~ ~

  I woke with a gasp, my mouth full of blood from biting my lip in my sleep. Trembling, I stared out my window at the familiar tree standing against the backdrop of the snowy mountain in the distance. The day was overcast, with fluffy grey clouds swathing the world in cold light. It seemed too bright, too kind compared to the dark world I’d emerged from. Outside my bedroom, I heard Lyanna and Rev muttering, discussing what had happened and worrying over the fact that the boys and I had run off into the forest at night.

  Gillen is in danger. I wanted to wrench the sheets from my bed and fly out into the snow in a mad dash to save him. But where would I go? Marke had said he was in Alrenor fighting my father’s war, while that shadowy land I’d seen him in seemed vastly different from the descriptions I’d heard of Alrenor.

  I clenched my hands into fists. My father and his war.

  All of Misroth was suffering because of the war and executions done in the king’s name. Unless I stopped my father, I was as guilty as he was. And if I did nothing to save him, if I sat by and he were harmed, Gillen’s blood would be on my hands.

  I had to return home and stop my father. I had to end the war so Gillen could come home.

  I didn’t know how I would convince my people of the truth, but I did know there was a group of people who already didn’t believe in the king. If I could find Marke’s shop, perhaps I could join members of the rebellion and stand with them against the king. Maybe I would even find an opportunity to share the truth with them, and together, the rebels and I could spread it amongst the people. No more hiding in fear, relishing my own safety while my kingdom deteriorated and Gillen suffered. I would finally be doing something.

  If a guard didn’t recognize and kill me first.

  Though my heart raced with urgency and my brain felt muddled with panic, I attempted to reason through my plan.

  Lyanna and Rev would not let me go of their own accord, even if I did speak to them and explain who I was and what had happened. Unless I wanted our last moments together to be filled with arguments, I would have to slip out unnoticed and alone, and break their hearts by disappearing, maybe to never return.

  If I was careful tonight, I could slip out of my bedroom and collect only the food and items necessary for the short journey to Misroth City. I did not want to take too much from the people who had given so much to me.

  Slowly, I pushed myself out of bed, splashed some water from my basin onto my face, and stepped into the living room to see Lyanna and Rev.

  Lyanna was leaning against the mantel, stirring the fire. She glanced up at me when I walked into the room, then back down at the hearth. “We were so worried last night.” She raised her head again to give me a stern look, but I saw the fear and sadness written across her face.

  Hesitating, I blinked back the tears threatening to gather in my eyes and approached her. After the years of care and love she had lavished on a stranger, I had nothing to give her. In one night it seemed the wrinkles on her face had deepened and the light in her eyes had faded, leaving them pale and cold. I leaned in and embraced her, burying my face in her shoulder and inhaling the smell of smoke and lavender. They were familiar scents now, things that reminded me both of her meals and her love of gardening and drying flowers to adorn the cabin throughout the winter months. This is home. Something inside me broke. I pulled back, blinking as tears threatened my vision.

  It felt impossible to leave, but it was more impossible to stay.

  I tried to apologize with my expression, but I knew nothing I could say would ease the pain of the loss she would bear. You’ve been more like a mother to me than my real one ever was. The thought tore at my heart. My eyes flitted over to Rev, where he sat at his desk, his hair still disheveled and his own gaze clouded with tears. I darted over and embraced him as well, relishing the feelings of safety and love. Maybe for the last time.

  “I know you didn’t mean for any of that to happen,” he said to me.

  “It is not safe to stay out after dark anymore,” Lyanna said.

  My throat burned, but I nodded vigorously and tried to ignore the urge to cry.

  Lyanna’s gaze softened as she watched me. “I’m about to start dinner. Would you like to help?”

  With a deep breath, I nodded again. There would be one last dinner with my family before I faced the unknown.

  ~ ~ ~

  Shortly after dinner, someone knocked softly at the front door. At first my stomach lurched in fear and I wondered if it could be Kyrin, eschewing the risks and coming to kill me even with Lyanna and Rev present.

  No, I thought. He would never be so forthright; if any of the townspeople knew, if there was ever the possibility rumor could spread and Avrik would believe it… He would wait; ensure my death appeared to be an accident. I’ll have departed long before he has another chance.

  The door pushed inward, and Avrik stepped inside.

  “Avrik!” Lyanna greeted as she scrubbed the dishes. Rev glanced up from his position by the hearth, where he tended the fire. I set the towel and dish I’d bee
n drying on the counter and ran to him, pulling him into an embrace.

  “You’re safe,” he murmured against my ear. He smelled of fresh soap and smoke, comforting and familiar, and I realized that this was my goodbye to him too.

  I pulled back to study him again and reassure myself that he was healthy and whole, that nothing had happened between his father and him last night. His eyes, though shadowed in dark circles, still sparkled with his usual warmth, and there was not a hint of concern or pain in his expression. There were scratches on his face and he had a bandage wrapped around his left arm, but otherwise, he looked fine. Gently, I reached toward the bandage.

  Avrik shrugged. “It’s nothing, only a scratch.” He grinned at me. “You look tired. But you are all right?”

  I nodded. Though I longed to speak, I bit my lip and held the urge back. There were too many truths I was not yet prepared to share with Lyanna, Rev, and Avrik, as long as my gift didn’t force me to. Pulling Avrik toward a seat by the fire, I sat down next to him. Even Lyanna put aside the dishes to join us all.

  “Shilam and Bren have minor wounds and will be fine,” Avrik said. “After you’ve rested tonight, I’ll take you to visit them tomorrow.”

  I tried to smile, but felt my lips falter. Turning, I stared into the fire instead.

  I won’t be here tomorrow, Avrik. I’m leaving and I might never be able to return, and you will not understand. Please, please forgive me.

  ~ ~ ~

  The next morning I lay in bed until the last possible second, shivering under the covers as I gazed out my window and wondered what the day would hold for me, alone in the woods. I had drifted off to sleep the night before, half-expecting to be woken by Kyrin attempting to slip into my room and steal me away to a place where he could kill me and leave me never to be found again, but the night was uneventful. That fact still didn’t ease the fear twisting in my stomach.

  On my nightstand rested two carefully folded notes I had written last night. One more time, I lifted the first paper, opening it up to read it.