Behind the Third Door: The Innocence Cycle, Book 2

by J D Abbas

  “Does your head hurt?”

  A voice she knew well. “Yes. Badly. What happened?” Unless she wanted to empty her stomach, she didn’t dare turn her head to look at Mikaelin.

  “You struck it on the floor when you collapsed earlier.”

  “In Celdorn’s chamber? With all the strangers present?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “Those men must think I’m the most helpless, pathetic creature.”

  Mikaelin chuckled as he came closer. “I doubt that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He didn’t answer.

  Elena tipped her head and squinted, trying to bring him into focus. “Please, Mikaelin, tell me the truth.”

  “I hope Celdorn doesn’t have my head for doing so.” He stepped to where she could easily see him. “When you shifted the first time, into the older form, you were able to physically push Yaelmargon back by merely holding up your hand from across the room. Then when you became the small child, you laid your hand on his chest and light shot through his body and tossed him to the ground.”

  “How is that possible?”

  “I don’t understand it myself,” he replied. “I can only tell you what I observed. Perhaps Yaelmargon can explain better.”

  “Do the men think I’m some kind of monster?”

  “I think they’re confused, but it would be difficult to see you as a monster in any form you take.” His lips curled into a warm, affectionate smile. “They’ve also seen how Yaelmargon honors you; that alone must speak a great deal to them.”

  “Where are Celdorn and Elbrion?”

  “In the council. They felt it was important to continue. I hope you’re comfortable with me as your guardian. Celdorn didn’t think you would object.”

  “He has good discernment.” Elena attempted to sit up again. “I would be more comfortable, however, sitting in a chair. It seems the beds of this keep bear me ill will, and I doubt I’ll rest peacefully in one again for some time.” She sat on the edge of the bed. “The room is still spinning. I must have struck my head hard.” She felt the goose egg that bulged beneath her hair.

  “You did. No one was near enough to catch you before you hit the floor. I’m surprised it didn’t split the skin.”

  “Would you help me, please?” She reached out her arm toward Mikaelin.

  He put his arm under her shoulder and helped her to her feet. When she swayed, he scooped her up. “I’m sorry; I’m more comfortable not letting you fall again.” He laughed as he carried her to a chair and then settled himself in the one next to it.

  Elena stared quietly at the fire waiting for the room to stop moving, trying not to vomit.

  “Are you all right?” Mikaelin asked. “You’ve lost your color.”

  “I think so. Just dizzy,” she replied, gripping the arms of the chair. She sat quietly for a while thinking through all that had happened the last few hours. Suddenly, she turned and asked, “How do I know you are you, Mikaelin?”

  He frowned. “I don’t know how to answer that, Elena.”

  “When I was with Silvandir—who was not really Silvandir, apparently—I couldn’t distinguish him from the man who is my friend. So how do I know with you?” She glanced at the doors realizing she could never make it to one before he’d catch her. And where was Sasha? Her breath caught as she realized her most faithful guardian was missing again.

  “How do I prove who I am?” Mikaelin spread his hands and shrugged. “Was there nothing about this man that seemed different from Silvandir?”

  “Other than him wanting to bed me?”

  “You didn’t think that was odd enough in itself?”

  “Yes, of course I did, but—” She stopped.

  “But what?”

  “But he… he was so convincing, telling me that he was in love with me and had been since we first met.” She rubbed her temples. “I suppose that alone should have aroused my suspicion.”

  “Why?”

  Her face screwed up with disbelief. “Because he is a noble and honorable man, Mikaelin, and I am… I am… me.”

  “And you think no one could love you?”

  Elena stared at her hands. “Not like that… romantically, I mean. I know that some of you love me like family—at least, I was beginning to believe it was possible.”

  “But you don’t believe men might find you alluring? Don’t you know how beautiful and sweet you are?”

  “Stop!” She cowered away from Mikaelin.

  He held up his hands and scooted his chair back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. Are those the kind of things the man who attacked you said?”

  She nodded, breathing heavily. “Something like that.”

  “I don’t want to be intimate with you. I only want to be your friend. I thought I was merely stating the obvious.”

  Elena looked at him sideways. “Do I… does my body… cry out to men? Do I send a message that I want men to… to take me?” she asked, fumbling for words that were not too painful to speak.

  Mikaelin frowned. “Is that what your attacker told you?”

  She nodded, closing her eyes to hold back the tears.

  He sighed heavily. “I don’t see any such thing. What I do see in you—and it is rather amazing, given your history—is innocence. I do feel and hear a longing in you…”

  Elena hung her head, blushing with shame. So Silvandir had spoken the truth.

  “No, please listen. The longing I hear is to be loved and valued as a person, to have a place to belong, and to be treated with kindness. That is what I sense you crying out for,” he added. “I have never felt you crying out for… that kind of intimacy or noticed you being seductive in any way.”

  Tears escaped and slid over her cheeks. “Are you telling me the truth?”

  “Yes, and I understand the cry. I long for the same.” He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. “Perhaps it is our histories that make our longings so similar.”

  Elena wrung her hands, unable to contain her nerves. “May I… may I tell you something?” Her voice lowered to a confidential whisper.

  “Of course.” He leaned in closer.

  “I am a young woman. And… and I know I should feel differently than this, but I realized when I was with Silvandir—or the man who I thought was Silvandir—I realized I… I have no… desire for that… that kind of intimacy,” she confessed. “I find it… repulsive. It is terrifying and disgusting, and I would be happy to live in a world where I never had to do that again. Even thinking about it makes my skin crawl.” She shivered as she spat out the words before reason could return and stop her.

  “I can certainly understand that. It has only been a few hours since you were raped and—”

  Elena’s eyes went wide as her jaw dropped.

  Mikaelin’s brows pulled together. “Are you surprised I used that word? That is what it was. Don’t you see that?”

  She shook her head. “As I replay it in my head, it feels so different than the other times. It didn’t seem like he was trying to hurt me. He was speaking words of… of affection,” she said, feeling more confused as she spoke. “And that just makes me feel so much dirtier, more vile. How can I explain it to you?” Tears slid down her cheeks.

  “Oh, Elena…” He reached for her hand. “It was still a rape, not only of your body, but of your soul. The words of love made it a greater violation, a worse betrayal.”

  “But he said I wanted it as much as he did,” she confessed, looking down. “And things… happened… that told him he was right.” Her chest shuddered with a sob. “I resisted him. I said I didn’t want to lie with him, that I didn’t feel the things he said my body had been telling him, but then…” She covered her face. “I’m so confused.”

  Mikaelin was quiet. When she finally peeked out, he was shaking his head and scowling. He took a long, slow breath before he spoke. “I think I understand what you’re finding difficult to put into words.” His tone had grown gentle, his eyes shifting a
s if searching for the right response. “There are things our bodies are designed to do that we can’t control.” She lowered her hands and looked up at him, surprised that he had caught her meaning. He met her gaze. “And our bodies betray us sometimes.” He looked down and tugged at his dark beard. “I have had to struggle with this in the understanding of my own… history, though I have never discussed it with anyone. And… and for him to use it against you, to justify what he was doing is so… evil,” his voice punched out the word. “You didn’t choose to be there, Elena. You didn’t want to lie with him. It was rape, and he managed to twist it around in your mind to make you feel responsible. I understand what that does inside a person’s head.” His hands curled into fists. “You have seen the worst of the worst in men and the whole realm of sexuality. I don’t blame you for having no desire to engage in such things ever again.” He stopped then added almost inaudibly, “I think I may be in agreement with you.”

  Elena’s eyes rose and met his, surprised by his words.

  “I don’t want to explain. You know enough already,” he was quick to add when he saw the questions move across her face.

  She nodded nervously and turned her gaze to the fire, not wanting to embarrass him further. They lapsed into an awkward, contemplative silence.

  A short time later, while staring at the flames, Elena noticed the room beginning to brighten. She turned toward Mikaelin and gasped.

  “What is it, Elena?”

  “You are surrounded in light again,” she whispered. “What’s happening?”

  He studied her. “I don’t know. Perhaps it’s the injury to your head. May I touch it?”

  “No. I don’t want to pass any more of my pain onto you.”

  “It’s only a bump,” he countered. “I promise you, I’ll let it move right through me.”

  Elena was not sure she believed him.

  “It seems it is the will of the Jhadhela. I don’t know its purpose, but I trust that it won’t harm you.”

  “It’s you I’m worried about.” She counted the numerous scars already on his face and the eye that still drooped because of her, and her stomach rolled.

  “I’ll be fine, Elena. Do not fear,” he assured her. “Please allow me to do this for you.”

  As he reached for the back of her head, her body went rigid, her breath shallow, but she didn’t stop him. At his brief touch, an odd tingling sensation moved through her body while at the same time a wave of pain crossed Mikaelin’s face, though he was doing his best to conceal it.

  Her eyes narrowed. “You took on more than the bump. What else happened?” When he didn’t respond, she added more strongly, “What are you feeling? Tell me!”

  “The injuries from… the last rape,” he replied softly, his voice stretched with pain.

  “No,” she groaned. “Why did you do that?” How she wished she could reach out and take it back, but she knew it didn’t work that way. It was so unfair for him to have to suffer more after all he’d been through.

  “I have no control over it. The Jhadhela moves where it will.” His face contorted and his body twitched. Elena watched his hands curl into fists and his arms tense and shake. His words stuttered out between tight breaths. “Though I am… not built like a woman, I can… feel what the… violation was like for you.” He sucked in a shallow breath. “I am… so sorry this happened… to you again, my sweet friend.”

  Elena knew he understood her feelings like no other man could. “Let it go,” she whispered. “Let it pass through you as you promised.”

  “No, Elena. This time I choose to hold onto it. I know it won’t pass quickly for you, so I vow to sit with you in the pain until it does. Allow me the privilege of staying with you in this… please.”

  His empathy punched holes in her defenses, releasing deep waves of emotion that swept over her. “I fear asking this because I know it’s difficult for you,” she whispered, “but will you please hold me, Mikaelin. I can’t stop the feelings, and I’m afraid they are going to sweep me away.”

  He nodded and helped her to move to Elbrion’s broad couch with him. When he raised his arm, which seemed stiff with uncertainty, and laid it across her shoulders, Elena immediately curled into his chest as her floodgates burst. He tightened his hold and his body shook as his tears began to fall alongside hers.

  “I felt it all this time. I-I have always gone away before, but this time I couldn’t; I felt everything. It was… it was…” Her whole body shook with the sobs of pain that moved through her. Mikaelin wrapped his other arm around her as the waves increased, crashing over her, threatening to drag her into their depths.

  “I know. I can feel the difference,” Mikaelin whispered into her hair.

  Suddenly she looked up at him, eyes wide with terror. “I can’t breathe.” She gasped for air and clutched at his shirt with her tiny hands as the weight of Silvandir’s body pressed the life from her, his fire burning through her flesh.

  Mikaelin pulled her closer as his body tensed. “You are safe now, Elena. We… we are safe now,” he murmured as he began to gently rock her.

  After a time, her chest slowly stopped heaving, and she grew quiet. She felt Mikaelin’s body relax along with hers. Elena stayed in his arms, clinging to him. She didn’t want to let go. She felt safe—for the moment.

  Finally, she looked up. “I thought I was getting stronger. I thought I might be ready to leave all that history behind. Now I feel like I’m back at the beginning, like the first day I came to Kelach. I was so pathetic.”

  “Don’t say that.” Mikaelin scowled. “You were never pathetic. You were severely injured and traumatized. And you have strengthened since then. The fact that you can talk about what happened is a sign of growth, of reclaiming your life. You are discussing these painful and personal feelings with me without having to shift. Isn’t that progress?”

  Elena pondered his words. “I used to be strong, Mikaelin. Even as a small child. Truly I was. Part of my strength was being able to go away and hide, keeping my soul away from those who used me. I made a place of my own that they didn’t know about, a place they couldn’t touch. But now it’s all collapsing. When Silv—that man attacked me, I couldn’t go to my hiding place. He found a way to make me stay, to force me to feel what he did to me. I felt so helpless. I don’t want to be that helpless person. I want to be strong again. I want to be a warrior.” She sniffled and wiped her nose on her sleeve.

  “You will, Elena,” Mikaelin said. “This was just a setback. You’ll find your footing again, just as you did after Loqarad’s execution. You do have great strength and immense tenacity. Only a person with such fortitude could have endured all that you have and still be alive to tell of it, to be here with me today. And another thing: you’re not alone anymore, not like when you were a child. We will all lend you our strength when needed. You don’t have to be strong alone; you can be strong in the midst of community.” He gave her a sheepish, sideways smile. “I’m still learning that last part myself. Perhaps we can learn together.”

  Elena looked up at him, blinking back tears. He really believed what he said. She snuggled into his chest as her heart embraced his words.

  Then the relentless dogs of reality, who perpetually hounded her, caught up. “But what if they never stop pursuing me? Will my life be nothing more than hiding from Anakh and trying to prevent being absorbed, always having to suspect anyone near me of being her eidolon? Will they keep finding ways to violate me, doing everything in their power to break me? Will I never be truly safe?”

  “I don’t believe that is your destiny, Elena.” He pulled back and laid his hand on her damp cheek, gazing at her with a tenderness she’d never seen in him. “There are many here who are strong in the Jhadhela. It is my hope that they will help you to find an answer. I have to believe that is why you were brought to us. We have some part to play in helping you to find a life that is more than what you have lived so far. My hope, as cynical as I may be sometimes, is that you will also find joy
and love.”

  Elena pondered this as she rested in Mikaelin’s arms, feeling washed out in the wake of the emotions.

  Chapter 43

  When Celdorn returned from taking care of Elena, his room was silent. Yaelmargon was sitting in his place, his white eyebrows pulled tight in concentration. The others stole glances at the master and each other, but no one dared ask the questions that must have been plaguing their thoughts.

  “Yaelmargon, please teach us,” Celdorn said. He dropped into his chair and snatched up his wine, downing a good bit, frustrated that he’d failed to protect Elena yet again. Sasha lay down beside him with a heavy sigh, unhappy with him for forcing her to leave Elena.

  The lore master gazed around the room with his piercing gray eyes as if measuring each man seated at Celdorn’s table before speaking. “In her few words, Rhaenna gave us much insight and much to ponder. ‘Innocence must be protected.’ In this short statement, she delineated our duty and our goal. This part of Elena seems to have an understanding of who she truly is and is not afraid to use the gifts she has to protect herself. But this part of her is weaker than she appears. She rarely surfaces.”

  “What do you mean by ‘this part of her’?” Zarandiel asked. “So this Rhaenna and the child are not others of her race who somehow possessed Elena like they did with Silvandir?”

  “No, not at all,” the master replied. “Elena is a Rahima, a shifter, but her ability to transform has taken on a unique characteristic. Somehow she is able to transfer internal images of herself into her flesh, though it seems to be more of a response to her emotional states than intentional shifting.” He turned to Elbrion. “Does she have any memory of these episodes when she returns to herself?”

  “No, she seems to be unaware, although a few times, she reported feeling as if she were watching from a distance when the shift happened.”

  The master stroked his beard, lost in thought.

  “The first time we encountered Elena, I believe it was Rhaenna we saw,” Celdorn said. “She fought with the Farak and then challenged and escaped from us. Elbrion and I were both on the receiving end of her strength.”