Kingdom Above the Cloud

by Maggie Platt

  “So then, when he offers that same freedom to me, I just think about how hard it’s gonna be. I think about how I just don’t think I can make it, and how I’ll feel if I get throwed back in here. And I decide that it’s probably best for me to just stay put.”

  After a short silence, Ismene’s head dropped to her chest and she began to snore. Without the distraction of chatter, the voice came back to Tovi.

  You are stuck here forever, Tovi . . . There is no chance of escaping from what you have done, all the people you have hurt . . . And even if you could escape, where would you go? . . . Everyone hates you . . . You are alone in this world, and it’s all your fault . . . You failed everyone . . . You failed Ganya . . . You failed Avi . . . You failed Tali . . . You failed Silas . . . And he thinks you are worthless . . .

  All Tovi had to keep track of the time were the rhythmic drops of water punctuated by Ismene’s snores and the young man’s painful moans. After what seemed like eternity, she heard footsteps coming down the corridor. Was this the visitor? Was it King Damien? A guard? Who was coming in the middle of the night?

  She peered through the darkness and saw a man drawing closer. It was too dark to make out his face, but she recognized his voice immediately.

  “Xanthe, are you awake?” came his hushed whispers.

  Xanthe’s dress rustled as she moved closer to the bars. “Jairus,” she cried, letting out a sob that echoed against the walls.

  “Please don’t cry, sweetheart. I’m going to get you out of here.” They grasped hands through the bars.

  “I don’t want you to end up here, too,” Xanthe despaired, releasing one hand to cup the side of his face.

  He placed his hand over hers. “I don’t want this life without you, Xanthe. I will find a way. I promise you. We’ll go live somewhere out in the forest. We’ll start over away from this horrible place, away from Grandfather and all that has happened. Don’t give up, Xanthe. Please don’t give up,” he begged.

  They kissed softly, allowing their pain and tears to mingle. “I’ll come back when I can. Stay strong, my love.” He turned toward his newfound sister for one agonized second before walking briskly up the aisle, not looking back at the now-sobbing Xanthe.

  Tovi’s guilt engulfed her again.

  If you had held your temper with Megara, Xanthe wouldn’t be in prison . . . She wouldn’t be in terrible danger . . . She and Jairus wouldn’t be separated . . . They wouldn’t be experiencing this misery . . . How could you do this to your friend? Your brother . . . You are a failure, Tovi Tivka . . . You have ruined their lives . . . Nobody wants you . . . Nobody loves you . . . You are worthless . . .

  Tovi didn’t sleep. She lay awake, listening to the voice and Xanthe’s weeping. The longer she lay there, the weaker she felt, as if the voice was draining every last bit of strength and resilience she had left.

  Just when she thought she could bear it no more, there was a strange trembling, like the rocks below her were crumbling. She stared into the far corner of her cell where ruffled green leaves and an indigo flower flecked with orange pollen poked up through the floor and bloomed like an umbrella. She crawled over and lay her head beside it, running her fingers over the petals. Warm tears trickled down her cheeks, and she whispered, “Silas . . . ”

  CHAPTER 43

  Eryx stood hunched over his bathroom sink, his fingers threatening to crush the marble edge of the countertop. How had he let this happen to her? How had he just stood there and watched Calix drag her to the palace? He should have taken her and run as fast as he could, straight to Adia. Now he was left to wonder if that was to be the last time he would ever see her alive.

  He splashed his face with water and looked up into the mirror, his tormented gaze freezing as he took in the changes. He leaned forward, looking closely at his eyes; they were bright blue, as blue as the sky over Adia. The short hairs that had appeared on his scalp, the ones that he shaved away every morning, were much lighter than usual. He ran his hand over them in disbelief.

  What happened? The last time his colors had changed, it was because his heart had betrayed him and fallen for Tovi Tivka. He had worn her colors like a disgraceful badge hoping no one would notice. But these colors? Where did they come from? His love for her was as strong as ever. Had Tovi’s allegiance changed? To whom? He knew no one with these colors, had never seen anyone in Adia or on the mountain with these eyes.

  He could feel the frustration building as he frantically searched his memory. His heart thudded loudly in his ears as he told himself that Tovi could never love him. She already loved someone else. Weren’t these new colors proof enough? He felt like such a fool.

  Eryx rarely displayed self-pity, but these thoughts were especially potent, triggering the rage that was always so close to the surface. His oldest scar, which marred the skin just below the left side of his collar bone, ripped open, allowing blackness to ooze out through his shirt. He glared at his reflection, wondering whose eyes were looking back at him. Not knowing what to do with his grief and wrath, he slammed his fist into the mirror.

  Shards scattered everywhere, and black blood seeped from a deep cut between two of his knuckles. He let it flow, knowing that bleeding to death would be better than the fate Tovi faced.

  Eventually he moved to his kitchen table and wound bandages around his hand, trying to think of anything other than Tovi.

  “I’d say the mirror got the worst of it,” Silas said from the doorway. “May I come in?”

  “I’m not used to you asking,” Eryx said without looking up. He wasn’t surprised that he had shown up. He realized with annoyance that something in him had been waiting for Silas.

  “Want me to take a look at that?”

  “No.”

  “I can fix it.”

  “I don’t care.” He continued to wrap his wounds, never showing any emotion. Not even anger.

  “What happened?”

  Finally, Eryx looked up, but only for a brief second. Then he went back to work.

  Silas wasn’t deterred. “I already know what’s upsetting you. Why won’t you talk to me about it?”

  “If you already know, then why ask?”

  “Because I care about you,” Silas said, exasperation evident in his tone. “You are the strongest person on this mountain, and I don’t mean just your muscles. You have been through horrific tragedy, and yet you still have the capacity to love. I want to be your friend, Eryx. I want to help you find a better way.”

  This time Eryx looked up and stared at Silas, but he wasn’t really seeing the Adian. Images of his family and a better time raced across his mind, speeding past so quickly that he could grasp none of them.

  The men looked at each other, one with frustrated respect and the other with the pain of unspeakable memories. “Horrific tragedy? It was my fault. I killed them.”

  “It wasn’t your fault.”

  Eryx had just finished binding his hand. “It was my hatred that bred dissension within my family.”

  “It was their choices that destroyed them. You are not blameless, Eryx, but you have taken far too much of the guilt. But that’s not why I’m here.”

  “What do you want?” Eryx yelled, banging his newly-bandaged fist on the table and releasing the tension that had been building since Silas entered. “Another favor? I did everything you asked. I got Xanthe to avoid her lesson and take Tovi to the HH. I went and took care of her when she was bleeding to death. But then, when she really needed me, I just stood there and watched them take her to the palace.”

  “Again, you are shouldering blame that isn’t yours. You did everything right.”

  “I should have taken her straight to Adia. I could have, you know. I could have just taken her and run away. There was that moment . . . That moment when I was telling her to run. I was too much of a coward to run with her.”

  Eryx buried his head in his hands and completely lost control. He didn’t care that Silas was there to see it. He screamed. He cursed. He let wave
after wave of grief pour out as his massive shoulders heaved.

  When Eryx finally looked up, Silas was sitting calmly on the other side of the table, his speckled yellow-green eyes shining with shared pain.

  “If it’s not to remind me of my failures, why are you here?” Eryx asked.

  “To see if you’re ready to start over.”

  Start over? It would be impossible to undo the evil he had committed. “What do you mean?”

  “I want you to leave this mountain. Come to Adia with me and begin a new life. You don’t have to live with the marks on your back that cause you so much pain.”

  “I won’t leave Tovi here.”

  “Fine. You don’t have to live with the marks here either. We can start the process anywhere and at any time.”

  “What process?” Eryx asked suspiciously.

  “There is a way to get rid of the marks immediately, and I offer this to you whenever you are ready. However, the dark sludge that burdens your veins has seeped throughout your body. You see it when you spit or cough or bleed. It has taken over your stomach, your lungs, your heart. I will take away the marks, but we must do the work of ridding your body of this darkness together.”

  “How?”

  “I’ll tell you as we go.”

  “Will it hurt?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why would I do it?”

  “Because when your blood is clean and rich and your tears and sweat run clear, you will experience a kind of freedom you could never achieve with the power of your own might. The difficult task of ridding your body of this disease is worth it, Eryx. I want this for you.”

  Eryx’s heart thumped loudly, and he was more aware than ever of the sluggish blood in his veins. Then Tovi’s face came to mind, and his murderous hatred of King Damien, Calix, Leeto, and all the others surfaced, calling him to action.

  He clenched his teeth and looked at Silas. “If I can’t find this freedom on my own, then I don’t want it.” He pushed back his chair and stormed out of the room.

  CHAPTER 44

  “Everybody up! Time for your breakfast. Everybody up!”

  A guard walked down the line offering porridge and water to prisoners who recited, “I am grateful to His Majesty, King Damien, the true king of the mountain.” This guard was nothing like the sleek guards that kept watch over the royal family. He and his fellow officers were pudgy, oily, and unwashed. They looked strong but not very smart.

  When the breakfast distributer reached Tovi, he looked at her expectantly. “You heard what they said. You say it, too, and I’ll give you your breakfast.”

  “No.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I won’t say what the others said.”

  “You have to, or I can’t give you your breakfast.”

  “Then I won’t eat.”

  “I’ve been ordered to give you your breakfast.”

  “Fine, give me my breakfast.”

  “No, you have to say it first.”

  “I won’t say it.”

  The guard looked flustered. “Hey, Cyd,” he called. “What do I do with one who refuses?”

  “Tell her she has to say it,” Cyd yelled back.

  “I did!”

  “Tell her she won’t get her breakfast.”

  “I did!”

  “Okay, then take her to His Majesty. That’s what we had to do with the last one.”

  When the guard was finished doling out food, he came back and took Tovi from her cell. Holding her by the arm, he pulled her down the aisle and up the stairs. They reached the patio where King Damien was breakfasting with Prince Ajax and Jairus.

  “Excuse me, Your Majesty, this one refused her breakfast.”

  “I see,” King Damien said calmly and evenly.

  Tovi stood uncomfortably before her brother, father, and grandfather, affected by her exhaustion, hunger, and sore muscles.

  Damien rose from his seat, circled the table, and grabbed her hand, looking at the palm. “You stupid girl. I see that one night in prison was not enough for you. You have held onto that heart,” he growled. He clamped his hand into a fist, crushing her fingers as if he could squeeze Silas out of her. “Remember this: all of your pain is because of him. All of it!” He continued to spew hateful lies, but she couldn’t hear him over her own screams. There were several loud cracks as the bones in her hand gave way. Damien opened his fist to find her fingers hanging limply. Turning them over as Tovi groaned he saw that the symbol was still there, and it hadn’t faded at all. He grabbed a knife from the table.

  She tried to run, but she was weak, and he had an iron grip on her wrist. The guards moved several feet closer. Her father watched passively, as if he was bored. Her brother turned his face away.

  As her grandfather savagely cut into her flesh, trying to dig deep enough to carve away the heart, he cried out, “He doesn’t love you, Tovi! Where is he? Why isn’t he stopping me? He’s not who you think he is! If he really loved you, he’d be here, saving you from all this pain. Right? Am I right? He doesn’t love you! He hates you! He left you! He doesn’t care! You should hate him! He deserves it! He left you just like he left me!”

  All at once, Damien seemed to come back to himself, his wrath only apparent in the pulsing vein in his neck and the webs of black in his eyes. Tovi crouched on the ground, cradling her mangled and bloody hand.

  “Look at me, Tovi,” Damien ordered, standing before her. “I said look at me! Look me in the eye and tell me that you still love him.”

  This dare seemed to strengthen her, and Tovi bravely stared back. With trembling lips, she declared, “I still love him,” drawing out each word, savoring their meaning.

  Damien threw the knife to the ground so that its bloody blade clattered across the stone patio. “Leave me. We will continue this lesson tomorrow.”

  One of the guards took her back to the dungeon. On top of everything else, Tovi had suffered a good deal of blood loss. She dozed in and out of consciousness, unsure where reality began among her tormented thoughts. Ismene’s voice floated to her from the next cell, but it sounded much further away. “Listen for the other words, Tovi. The other voice. It’s there, I swear it.”

  And there it was. She could hear it, quiet at first and then overpowering the other. It spoke to her from her memories, but it sounded like the words had always been meant for this specific moment.

  What would your precious Silas think of you now? Pathetic, selfish, ruined . . . I love you. No matter what happens . . . You have become a vapid, greedy, bitter liar . . . You can talk to me about it. All of it . . . He will hate you for it . . . I won’t get mad . . . Where is he right now? He has abandoned you! You are alone . . . I’ve been with you the whole time . . .

  Tovi scooted toward the flower that stood bravely in the darkest corner of her cell, the stone cracked around its stem. She lovingly traced the tip of each petal with her fingers, just as she had when she was at the ridge with Silas. She had so many questions that she longed to ask him. So many things she didn’t understand.

  One thing plagued her mind the most. If Silas could make a flower bloom out of this dismal rock bottom, she knew he could also find a way to save her life a second time. She knew he could, but after all she had done, she didn’t know if he would.

  “Psst, Tovi,” Ismene whispered. “Do you hear that? Here he comes. The visitor man!”

  Tovi sat up straight. She couldn’t see him, but she could hear muffled voices from the far end of the corridor. Occasionally she heard soft footsteps as he moved down the line. She adjusted her angle so she could get a glimpse of him, but to no avail. She would have to wait until he was closer to get a good look.

  Her heart was hammering. This old man would offer her freedom. Could he really get her out? Where would he take her? Could she trust him?

  She still couldn’t see his face, but he had moved close enough that she could just barely make out his stature. He looked too upright and strong to be the elderly man that Ismene ha
d described. “Are you sure, Ismene? Are you sure it’s him?”

  “As sure as can be, Tovi. Can’t you see him through them bars?”

  He had moved another cell closer and was crouched right beneath one of the few torches. Messy light brown hair with golden streaks. Smooth skin and soft tunic flecked with indigo, orange, and green paint. She put her hand to her mouth to stifle a loud whimper.

  Hot tears flooded her cheeks during the agonizing wait while he inched closer. She watched through her bars as he spoke softly to each prisoner. She didn’t know why Ismene saw him as an old man, but she didn’t care. He was moving down the corridor, visiting each cell, side to side across the aisle. When he got to her neighboring cell, he sat right down on the floor and whispered, “Dion, I’m back, just like I promised. Are you ready to talk to me?”

  Dion, the boy lying in his cell with no marks on his back, stopped moving and took a shuddering breath. Silas continued, “Are you ready to leave this place?”

  The young man moaned in agony, but still there was no response.

  “I was there, Dion. I know what happened. I will be here when you decide it is time to leave. And I will keep reminding you that we can do it. It will be hard, but we can do it. Together. You’re worth it to me.”

  Tovi could hardly bear the sound of his voice. She longed to reach out to him, and at the same time she feared the look of anger and disappointment that was sure to be on his face when he found her there. What would he think of this mess she had become?

  Silas stood and crossed the corridor to Xanthe’s cell. It seemed to Tovi that he purposely didn’t look her direction as he turned. He must hate her. He must be so disappointed . . .

  The beautiful Master, with her lemon yellow hair in disarray, was standing at her door, her fingers through the bars. “You came back,” she said in disbelief.

  “Just like I promised.”

  “Even though I was so awful to you yesterday.”

  “Nothing you do could keep me away. Do you think I’ll be able to persuade you to leave with me today?”