“Your Highness, are you all right?” the Sahi Kalah whispered.
“Yes—but I guess I’m just Sathlir now,” Sath mumbled, still unable to believe what had just happened. He got to his feet quickly and fled the cells, headed to his mother’s chambers before his father could have time to double her guard. When he arrived, she was not there, but her quad told him that the First Wife was back in the Royal Nursery. Sath ran through the familiar corridors without even having to look, and finally arrived at the Royal Nursery.
He heaved open the door, breathing heavily, and charged inside. “Mama?” he called out as he searched the rooms. Soon Savdhi appeared in the doorway to the room where Kazhi lived, her eyes wide.
“Sathlir, you must go, you can’t be here!” she hissed at him. “Your Papa can’t see you here. You have to let me talk to him, I can change his mind.” Kazhi and her friend Anni looked up from their game, but lost interest and resumed playing and purring softly to each other.
“So, you knew about this?” Sath asked in disbelief. “You know what he has done? You know…and yet you let this happen?” His eyes narrowed as he stared at her.
“Sathlir, you know as well as I do that your father is the final word on everything, he’s the Rajah.” Savdhi reached out to stroke the side of her son’s face as she had done when he was a cub. “He was so angry, but I convinced him last night not to have you put to death, my sweet cub. That was all I could do. Exile means you are still alive, don’t you see?”
“But this is not right!” Sath roared, his hands fisted at his sides.
Savdhi put her arms around him and held him to her, and after a few moments, he relaxed into her embrace. “I know, mashuk, sweetheart,” she cooed as she held him, “but for now, it must stand. I will talk to your Papa. He is a reasonable male, he will change his mind.” Neither of them heard Kahzlir enter the building; it was not until his shadow, cast by the torches on the wall, fell across Savdhi’s feet that she looked up. “Kahzlir,” she whispered.
Sath started, but Savdhi held him to her. Kahzlir glowered down at both of them. “First Wife,” he bellowed, “what are you doing with this dangerous exiled male, so close to all the precious cubs in the Royal Nursery?” Savdhi just stared up at him, fear clouding her ability to respond. “Well, answer me, female, and make it good or I will exile you along with this cub!”
“I was just saying goodbye, Papa,” Sath spat at Kahzlir. “There is no need to harm my Mama. I’m leaving.” He stalked past his father, never breaking eye contact until he was past the Rajah and out the door. Sath kept walking, without really thinking about where he was going until he found himself outside of the Royal Household and in the merchant section of Qatu’anari. The Crown Prince of Qatu’anari, now merely Sathlir, leaned against one of the marble walls and sank down to a seated position to await the choking sobs he had pushed away from the moment his father kicked his boot. No sobs came. Sath smiled. He thought about how free he was and how he could go anywhere and do anything; his excitement was tempered only by thoughts of his sister and mother still in the palace. Soon his stomach began making loud and rumbling demands, and Sath headed for a tavern where he and his friends often went when they snuck out of the Royal Nursery. He walked in the door, pleased to see that the room was all but empty, and took a seat at the bar.
A serving female that he knew very well stalked over to him, scowling. “Nope, not today, Sathlir,” she hissed. “You need to leave.”
“What? Come on, Preeva,” he said, beaming a toothy grin at her. “Just a bite of food, and I’ll be out of your way, I promise.”
“Nope, sorry, royal edict. I can’t Sathy, I’m sorry,” she said, and he could see the sadness in her eyes as she pointed to a bit of parchment tacked to the wall by the bar.
“Royal. . .what? Let me see that.” He ripped the piece of paper and pulled the nail out of the wall. It clattered onto the bar as he read the words aloud. “Sathlir, formerly of House Clawsharp, Person of Interest, No Longer…” Sath growled loudly. “No longer welcome in any upstanding establishment in Qatu’anari. Ikara’s TEETH, Papa, what have you done? Good news seems to travel FAST.” He balled up the missive and hurled it at poor Preeva’s head, snarling as he stalked back out onto the street. “Breaking a rule or two ever stopped me before.” He pulled his traveling cloak out of the pack that the Sahi Kalah had thrown at him as he left the Royal Apartments, thankful that he had some cover from the accusatory glances that seemed to bounce off the shining walls of his home city from every direction.
Sath made his way through the city he had known all of his life, but it looked different to him now. It was foreign. The faces that greeted him warmly just days before now refused to meet his gaze. Mothers pulled their cubs back inside of dwellings when he passed. Finally, he could ignore the grumbling in his stomach no more, and he snuck up behind a baker’s storefront, standing in the shadows to the side of the awning under which today’s fresh baked goods were spread out for customers. Keeping his head down, Sath ambled toward the front of the store and pulled his hood up over his head to hide his face. He stood behind several customers that picked up this loaf and then that one, sniffing them and pulling at the crust to test for firmness. Eventually, one of them turned away, knocking several rolls off the stand. Like a flash, Sath grabbed them up and tossed them into his waiting haversack, and then dashed back to the safety of the alley. He opened the pack and breathed in the heavenly aroma of fresh bread. “Take THAT, Papa,” he said as he bit into the first roll. He closed his eyes as he chewed, savoring the yeasty taste of the bread, but opened them as he felt something sharp against his temple.
“You stole my bread,” said the baker. The male Qatu was standing over Sath, holding a dagger to the side of Sath’s head.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sath said. “My Mama made this bread for me this morning.”
“I saw you scoop it off the ground!” the baker said, his eyes blazing. “Pull back your hood so I can properly describe you to the authorities!” Sath leaped to his feet, his hood falling back as he did. “Prince Sathlir!” the man exclaimed, falling to his knees and pressing his head to the ground at Sath’s feet. “Forgive me, Highness, I did not know it was you. Of course, you can have whatever you want!”
Sath grinned. “Recover yourself. I have what I need here, but your generosity will not go unrewarded.”
The baker stood and backed away, leaving Sath to happily eat his bread. He became so lost in the overwhelmingly delicious food that he did not hear the rush of several sets of Qatu feet descending upon his hiding place. “Is this him?” Sath looked up to see a quad of Sahi Kalah advancing on him.
“Yes!” the baker shouted. “It is the disgraced Prince, and he did steal bread from my bakery!” Sath cursed under his breath as he got to his feet. “He is eating it right now!”
“You will be reimbursed, Sir,” one of the soldiers said to the now frantic baker. Sath readied himself for a fight and tried his best to control the fear that was spreading through him, threatening to defuse his resolve. This was no different than sparring with the Sahi during his lessons. “Now then, Sathlir, show yourself!” Sath took a deep breath and strode out of the alleyway, his hood back from his face. There were gasps in the gathered crowd.
“Can I help you?” he asked, beaming a smug grin at the quad.
“You are accused of stealing from a citizen of Qatu’anari,” one of them said harshly. “You are already exiled from the palace – let us help you remember your place. Take him.” The other three were on Sath before he could blink. They were much older and stronger than he and had better training. Sath hissed and spit and tried to free himself from their grasp, but it was no use. Clearly, the Sahi in his lessons had been pulling punches to allow him to win. The fourth one drew something substantial and metallic from his pack, then headed straight for Sath, who braced himself, sure that he was about to be run through or have his hands removed for stealing.
Sath’s eye
s widened as the soldier held an iron collar aloft and spoke in a booming voice, catching the attention of everyone in the street. “Let it be known that Sathlir is no longer welcome in Qatu’anari, and let this collar be a symbol of his new status. It will be a reminder to anyone that offers him comfort, solace, or sanctuary.” Sath struggled against the guards, but they held him fast. The guard holding the collar came toward Sath with it, repeating words in ancient Qatunari as he did. The collar popped open, and the guard managed to snap it closed around a struggling Sath’s neck. It was solid iron, and once the guard finished his chant, it sealed itself shut. There was no way to take it off, no lock to place a key that would spring it open again. Only magic would release it. It was incredibly dense, and Sath could feel the muscles in his neck and shoulders beginning to sting under the weight of the collar. The three guards holding him threw him to the ground, and then turned on a heel in unison and left the alley, the fourth following along behind them.
Sath started toward the baker who ran inside his shop and bolted the door. Growling, Sath turned back and gathered his cloak and haversack and headed for the city gates. Everyone that he passed stared at him now, rather than averting their eyes as they’d done before. Young Qatu pointed and laughed. As he passed the entrance to the Royal Apartments, the two magical stone tigers that stood guard there hopped to their feet at the sight of him, hissing and spitting. Sath kept moving, and the collar dug into the flesh of his shoulders with every step. Finally, he reached the gates of Qatu’anari, and the Sahi Kalah there turned their backs at his approach, a symbolic gesture that meant he was no longer welcome. As he stepped out into the night and looked up, he saw the moon on the horizon, just beginning its climb into the sky. “That’s where I’ll go—to the edge of the horizon, the mainland. They don’t want me here, fine. Someone there can help me get this na’hin collar off my neck.” He looked back over his shoulder at Qatu’anari and spit. “Good riddance,” he muttered, wiping a tear from his teal eyes as he turned back toward the path leading away from his home.
Sath opened his eyes as the memory faded back into the recesses of his mind where it belonged. Gin’s blue eyes—predictably locked on his face—were rimmed with tears. “Sath, I—I had no idea.”
“Of course you didn’t,” Sath said, smiling sadly at her. “I didn’t speak to Papa again until the day he died, after Lairky...after I caused your sister Lairceach’s death.” He looked away, shame burning his cheeks under his fur.
“Sath, look at me,” she said. He finally met her stare but was hesitant. “You were charmed and you didn’t know what you were...I can’t forgive you for that yet, but I will. I just need time,” she said, biting her lip. “But now I understand about the collar. You don’t have to wear that collar; we will come up with something. Let me see if I can -”
Sath took her outstretched hands in one of his. “No, I can’t be seen without it. There is too much risk to you if I am. If this makes the Mother Dragon feel like I am under control, so be it. If the other dragonkind find out I am not your pet, there is no telling what they will do to me, and I can’t…” He paused a moment before continuing. “I have to make sure that you’re safe, and I can’t do that from a dungeon or worse, Gin.”
“No, you don’t. We look after each other, as equals, Sath, because I am not your child or your possession…I am your…Gin.” Sath grabbed her up into his arms, holding her tightly to him. “Now, let’s take that collar off.”
“I said no.” Gin frowned but he could feel that she understood—she just didn’t like it at all. “We will find another way.”
Fourteen
Me, Myself, and Us
“All right, A’chrya, I’m ready. Let’s talk.” Ellie levitated a few feet above the floor in one of her workrooms. It had only been a few days since she had triumphantly banished the Rajah and the Nature Walker to the Void, but she had spent most of it tucked into her bed. Being controlled by someone else had left her exhausted and, if Ellie was honest, unnerved to the point of distraction. Someone was doing a perfect job of impersonating her A’chrya, and she wasn’t quite ready to face whoever it was that made it that far into her mind and because it made her revisit how much she missed him.
It had been long enough now, though. That voice, so familiar, moved in and out of her mind, and it was driving her mad. Ellie searched her mind for their bond, and to her great surprise, she found it. She had not felt it in so long that it was almost overwhelming to find the bond—to discover him, Taeben, crouching in the very back of her consciousness.
What are you doing here? How are you here? You are dead.
Well, I was—sort of. But not anymore, and it is all thanks to you, my dark flower.
Stop calling me that. I’m not entirely convinced you are who you pretend to be.
Shall I prove it to you by taking control as I did before? I must say, Ellie, I am quite proud that you are strong enough to remain aware now when I take control like that. Quite proud indeed.
I don’t understand any of this, but if what you are saying is true, can’t I just block you out?
You will not like what happens if you try that.
She thought about that for a moment. The images filling her mind of pain and torture—those weren’t new; those were memories of her wizard training in Ikedria. What could an unknown presence possibly do that would be worse than what she had already suffered? She felt a chuckle that had been absent a long time through the bond, but that could be just a memory as well.
Prove to me that you are my A’chrya, Taeben of Alynatalos and that you are here in my mind. Prove to me that you are not dead.
You speak to me so, when I have granted you access to all my magic, all my power-
PROVE IT.
Again she felt that she was falling, and her vision grew dark like before, but this time she could see her body through her mind’s eye—as though looking at it from another vantage point. She felt her arms jerk upward and saw them move from across the room. Her body turned to face the room and then bowed deeply before collapsing to the ground with an awful thud. As suddenly as she had been pulled from her body, she slammed back into it again, with the all too familiar overpoweringly loud and bright sensation of coming back to herself. Ellie struggled to catch her breath as she got to her feet and then backed up against the wall, her arms wrapped around her midsection.
I warned you that you would not like what might happen if you push me, Ellie.
That is not proof. Ellie called up barriers in her mind to push out this intruder—this impostor—and was hit with searing pain from her head to her toes. It was like being struck by twin bolts of lightning—wizard’s lightning.
You see, it can still get worse.
You brought me to where you are once before. Do it again, and I will believe you.
The darkness fell for her again, but this time it was accompanied by a roaring wind that she recognized as transportation magic. The floor fell out from under her feet, and she plummeted, but when her feet finally touched solid ground again, her knees buckled from the force of the landing. She braced herself to hit the ground but was caught—caught by a familiar pair of sinewy arms and gathered up against a velvet robe-covered chest. She opened her eyes and looked up into those silvery eyes—and then slammed back into her own body in her own workroom with such force that she was on her back on the ground when she opened her eyes.
I do not yet have the strength to bring you here for more than a moment, just as I do not have the power to come to you and separate from you. That is why I must—borrow, for lack of a better word, your body from time to time.
This is about what was written in the journal, the circled parts. The Guardians know—Ginny knows. All of that.
Yes.
She knows how to travel like this, through the bond?
Yes.
But A’chrya, what does it all mean? How can I help if I do not know-
A’chrya? That means Master, does it not? So you believe me now?
Yes. You wrote that the ‘orb has Ikara’s power’ and that the Guardians and ‘Ginny’ know where it is. Your Ginny is gone, A’chrya. She is with the Rajah, never to return and hopefully dead.
Ellie winced, expecting a reaction from him—inside her mind, outside her body, or both. But nothing came. There was a bit of sadness, and then some anger, but that was not directed at her.
Then you must go after Ginny and her feral pet, my dark flower. You must find that orb, and then you may kill them, I care not. And yes, since you are wondering, I have been doing a bit of rummaging around through your mind. I find it to be a particularly dark and hospitable place, for now anyway. Find the Nature Walker, get the orb, and then we will use the power of your cursed Father Ikara to bring me back and restore me to my previous state. After that, the world will be ours.
As you wish, A’chrya.
Ellie felt him withdraw and was amazed that she could still feel him, just like before, as a sharp little buzz in the back of her mind.
A’chrya, one thing I must ask—please, do not take over my body when I am away from the embassy—I cannot afford to draw attention to myself, especially now that the Rajah and the Nature Walker are missing, and-
Elspethe. How you doubt me. No one misses them because everyone thinks they are just on an extended hunting trip, that was clever planning on your part. I have given you the time you need BY using your body when you are outside of the embassy. Do not presume to know my plan, little one. Continue my spell work begun with Lord Taanyth, and track down the Nature Walker.
Of course, A’chrya. As you wish.
The second time he withdrew from her mind was painful, like a sharp instrument drawing its edge across her forehead. She winced and then closed her eyes for a moment, pondering how she would accomplish her A’chrya’s orders. How would she get to the Void, and if she did, how would she find the Nature Walker? Another potion like the one she gave the Rajah, perhaps? Ellie picked herself up off the floor and crossed the room to her desk. There was much more research to do, and so many of his journals to read. If only he could direct her just a bit more without completely taking control? She settled down with a diary from his time in Bellesea Keep and started to read, keeping a tiny bit of her attention focused on that buzz in the back of her mind.
Darkness: A Guardians of Orana Novel Page 13