“Abraham? What’s wrong?”
Abraham marched towards them and sickening dread gripped her body as she stared into his soft brown eyes. Their playful light extinguished, the serenity of a disciple shattered, Abraham was a different man.
“Abraham?”
Isaac placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder, so gently it was almost a caress.
“Something terrible has happened, Sire. Yesterday evening in the forest, Michael chanced upon a Lokian woman. He abducted her and, unbeknown to anyone, brought her to the palace and assaulted her.”
Talia stared blankly into Abraham’s weary eyes as her head spun, consumed by the horror surrounding them. The voices in her mind tormented and taunted, their words emotional and agitated, impossible to understand. Her stomach lurched, and a cold sweat broke out over her body as it absorbed the evil that had infiltrated their world.
“Assaulted her?” Isaac’s voice was calm and expressionless as his hand tightened around hers.
Abraham nodded. “Fortunately a couple of soldiers heard her screaming in the early hours and intervened before the very worst could happen.” He stopped talking and stared at her, his face paling. This was too much for one small visionary to bear, and she was falling apart, her body shaking, her teeth chattering uncontrollably. She took a deep breath and clenched Isaac’s hand, willing Abraham to continue. “She wasn’t raped, thank God, but was stripped and beaten badly.”
She stared unseeingly at this holy man transformed into a prophet of doom and disaster. Her head whirled. Her stomach churned as if she were travelling on the stormiest of seas. Isaac’s grip on her hand was pincer-tight, and she murmured in agony, transfixed by physical and spiritual pain.
“How badly is she hurt, Abra?”
“She has a broken rib and severe bruising to her legs, arms and chest. Her face is cut and bruised badly. She will recover from the physical trauma but her mind…” Abraham bit his lip, his eyes shadowed by the darkness that had descended on their world. “She hasn’t stopped crying, won’t talk or let the women tend her wounds. Her mental condition is concerning.”
Talia retched, her body shuddering against Isaac’s. He wrapped his strong arms around her and she collapsed against his chest. She had never been further from the spirit realms. Her physical body was reduced to its basic functions, reacting primitively to the horrors of the mortal world. As her stomach roiled, the voices of her people became strident, screaming and shouting, demanding her attention when she needed peace the most. Her throat constricted, and she panted for breath as Isaac crooned in her ear, “Breathe, my little Wanwisa, breathe.” She moaned, wrapping her arms around his neck and clinging as if she would never let him go. Last night, while she and Isaac had been united in love and passion, a Lokian woman had been viciously assaulted here. It was too horrible to contemplate. And she should have known! She should have listened to her feelings of disquiet instead of using Isaac’s love to wash them away. She was selfish and this horror was a result of that. She fought for breath as Isaac gently held her away from him, wiping his fingertips over the tears coursing freely down her cheeks. She stared into his troubled eyes, thanking God for his tenderness, as her legs collapsed underneath her…
“I’ll look after Talia, Your Majesty.”
She was cradled in Isaac’s arms, safe in the spirit realms. Katrina was by his side.
Isaac nodded as he sat her on a chair. “Thank you, Katrina. I’ll be back soon, Wanwisa, I promise.”
She gazed up at him blankly. Where was he going? Katrina sat in the chair beside her and took hold of her hand, and they watched Isaac and Abraham exchange a few quiet words before marching from the hall together.
And then she was alone in a hall full of people with Katrina holding her hand. Bereft. Abandoned. All she wanted was Isaac.
The next hour was hell, an earthly punishment for sins committed in a former life. Nobody talked, trapped in the turmoil of their own minds, each paying their own private penance. She trembled constantly, fragile and emotionally unstable. This was the curse of a Lokian’s spiritual nature, unequipped for the cruelties of the mortal world. A sensitive Lokian woman was lying in this palace, injured and traumatised. A gentle, caring soul had been violated, and Talia could not make sense of it at all.
The women made hot drinks, and Talia sipped at one, oblivious of what she was drinking. The warm, tasteless liquid forced its way down her constricted throat bringing no comfort at all. She thought of Michael, a faceless demon she had never met, and wondered what his punishment would be. And the poor unnamed Lokian woman…
Jenna.
Jenna. An image of her friend’s face flashed before her eyes as clear as if Jenna were standing in front of her, but she was no longer the woman Talia had known all her life. She was a ghost, yet another spectre haunting Isaac’s palace with her pain. Jenna’s eyes were dead, empty, her skin wan and dull, her glorious spirit destroyed by the worst of mankind.
Jenna. Her beloved friend was the victim of this hideous crime.
Talia shuddered as she absorbed Jenna’s pain and shared her suffering…
Her lungs fought for life-giving air, her heart gave up its will to keep beating.
Her limbs stiffened, her entire body ached as knife-sharp slashes of agony carved inside her heaving chest.
Her face throbbed, her lips stung, splitting open every time she moved them.
But the physical pain was nothing, nothing at all…
Her mind raced, spiralling out of control, unable to think clearly.
She was no longer a pure Lokian spirit, but a creature of suffering, defined only by fear and pain.
Everything she knew had been destroyed, her belief in humankind shattered. She was petrified, alone, abandoned in a cruel universe, a soul devastated beyond repair.
Jenna’s soul was devastated beyond repair…
Talia stared blankly ahead, seeing nothing, hearing nobody, no longer aware of where she was or who she was. But despite the horrors of the mortal world, she did not escape to the spirit realms. As long as Isaac loved her, she could stay in this cruel world – and she could help. She could visit Jenna, comfort her.
“This has happened because of me.” Katrina was crying. Talia blinked, focusing on the older woman who was sitting the other side of Katrina, holding her hand.
“No, Kat, you are not to blame.”
“But it happened because of me,” Katrina repeated, her voice quivering with emotion. “Michael is angry and bitter, he wouldn’t accept the truth. The men who assaulted me were vagabonds, nothing like the Lokians in appearance or manner, but Michael refused to believe it. He wanted revenge, and the Lokians were the most obvious target for his wrath. How could he have thought I would want another woman to suffer as I did? How?”
“Kat, he did a terrible thing, it is his responsibility, not yours.”
“No, it is my fault, all mine.” Katrina shook her head, fat tears cascading down her cheeks. “Every time he saw me he was reminded of the attack. His anger festered and grew day by day, and now he has expunged it by assaulting an innocent woman.”
Talia couldn’t bear to listen. Poor Katrina had been violated yet she was blaming herself for Michael’s hideous act. It was devastating. This all stemmed from Michael’s distrust of the Lokians; her life here was doomed. How many others felt the same way? Many of the seemingly benevolent faces surrounding her might never accept her as Isaac’s wife. Their union should be a force for good, unite Cornicunia, not divide it; to act in a manner that caused discord and division was not the Lokian way. Her soul ached for all it had lost, devastated by its place in the mortal world. All peace and serenity shattered. One short day of harmony – and now this. She rose unsteadily to her feet.
“I have never understood this world less. How could anyone do something so horrific?”
She was asking no one and everyone to answer her question, bemoaning her ignorance of the mortal world. For the first time ever, she hated her spiritua
l nature – it could not withstand the cruelties of this life. She sank to the floor, her skirts pooling around her, and Katrina was instantly by her side. Talia was distraught. Katrina had suffered and yet she was consoling her! It was so wrong. She wanted Isaac, only his love could save her now. She turned her wet eyes to Katrina as Isaac’s advisor Bernard crept towards them, looking as traumatised as she felt. She was lost, a spirit stranded in a world of dark spectres, a soul whose only solace wasn’t here.
“I don’t understand this world anymore, Katrina, I don’t understand it at all.”
Bernard crouched down beside her. She gazed pleadingly into his eyes, begging for an answer he couldn’t give. No one could. They were all stranded in this cruel world together, lost in this palace of ghouls, helpless and despairing. Bernard tentatively reached out towards her…
“It’s alright, Nardo, I’m here.”
… and stood up next to her beautiful Isaac.
“I love you, Isaac.”
She declared her love in front of everyone, caring nothing for protocol. Love was all that mattered, the only truth. What had happened to Jenna was a travesty, a violation of the only natural order Talia understood. Love.
“I love you, Talia.”
Isaac understood. He knelt on the floor beside her, his public declaration overwhelming in her already emotionally fragile state. Her thoughts poured out, wild and uncensored.
“I understand the complexities of human nature, but… I can’t understand how anyone could do something as terrible as this.”
“I know, Wanwisa, I know.”
Only the two of them existed, Talia and Isaac and their love. He pulled her into his arms and pressed his lips against hers, and she wrapped herself unashamedly around him, losing her sorrow and pain in their kiss. His mouth cleansed her world of all terrible things, leaving only beauty and hope in their place.
“It is unbearable, Isaac, especially after the wonder we shared last night. I cannot believe the two things took place in the same world,” she whispered.
He shuddered, his sky blue eyes clouded with pain. “Don’t, Wanwisa, don’t even speak of them in the same breath.”
He brushed his lips against her forehead, and as they parted, she saw Abraham standing nearby. She smiled, a little embarrassed after her public display of affection, but a light had appeared in Abraham’s haunted eyes.
“It’s wonderful to see such tenderness after such a harrowing morning.”
Isaac nodded as he helped her to her feet. “And it could have been even worse.”
His voice was grim, and Talia thanked the spirit realms her friend had been spared the most hideous of fates. But she must help…
“Please, Your Majesty, please let me visit her. Jenna is my friend; she will be comforted by my presence.”
Isaac stared down at her, his eyes stunned and disbelieving. “Talia? How do you know this woman’s name? She will not speak to anyone.”
She stared up into his dazed eyes. “Jenna’s spirit visited mine while you were gone and I felt the pain she has endured. I think she tried to connect with me last night, but I ignored my feelings of unease just as I have ignored the voices of my people for days. Oh, Isaac, maybe I could have prevented this!”
“Hush, Wanwisa, no, don’t cry, hush now.”
She wept into his chest, mortified by her selfishness. Her love for Isaac must never distract her from her intuition, she must never allow it to muddy the crystal-clear waters of her mind. She had been given a gift too precious to be neglected and must honour it every day of her life. She gazed tearfully into his eyes as he held her away from him.
“Talia, you have had a tumultuous few days, your life has been turned upside down. Please do not chastise yourself. This is my fault, not yours. I have monopolised you, demanded all your attention. We are to be husband and wife, and I will do everything I can to ensure you have the perfect environment in which to nurture your powers and help them grow. You have been blessed with magical gifts and I want you to be free to develop them as you wish.”
She wept harder as the depth of Isaac’s understanding coursed through her body and soul.
“You have the soul of a Lokian guru, Your Majesty, a truly elevated spirit,” she snuffled, just loud enough for him to hear.
His face crumpled with emotion as he drew her into his arms to whisper in her ear. “Thank you, Wanwisa, I promise to fulfil your faith in me.”
“I know you will. I trust you.” She blinked her tears away. “Please, Your Majesty, please let me visit Jenna now.”
“Talia, I don’t know if you are strong enough, you are so distressed.”
“Please, Your Majesty, my feelings are not important. I can’t imagine what Jenna has endured, I don’t understand…” Tears sprang to her eyes. She was beginning to fall apart again and it would not aid her cause. She fought to regain control of her emotions, determined to convince Isaac she was strong. “We humans are fallible and imperfect, but this is too much for me to comprehend.”
She was searching for answers that did not exist. This barbaric act was surely the result of a dark character flaw most people could never understand.
“Sweet Talia, I am at a loss just like you, I cannot pretend to understand.” Isaac’s eyes locked with Abraham’s and both men shuddered, united in pain. Their shared suffering made her stronger; they were all shaken by this attack on their world. But it had happened and there was only one thing that mattered now. She tugged gently at Isaac’s sleeve and his eyes met her pleading ones. He breathed out sharply and nodded. “Abraham, do you think our patient is well enough for visitors?”
Abraham bit his lip. “She has been drifting in and out of consciousness and is barely lucid. She will not even talk to the women, the poor soul is terrified of everyone. A visit from Talia will comfort her, I am sure.” Abraham’s voice was as haunted as his eyes. This was urgent.
“Please, Your Majesty, please allow me to visit, please.”
Isaac brushed his lips over her forehead. “Of course, Wanwisa, but I shall accompany you.”
Isaac thought she was too fragile for this but she must prove him wrong, overcome her selfish distress and focus on Jenna’s recovery. She clung to his hand as they silently took the tortuous walk along the endless white stone corridors of his palace. What had happened to Jenna was a woman’s worst nightmare, destroying any tenuous feeling she might have of being in control of her own body. Not for the first time, Talia longed to be a man. All people were powerless against destiny, but a man had at least a little control. A man could carry out the masquerade of running his life, fool himself he was in control until God inevitably intervened and asserted divine authority. A man was physically strong, at little risk of being overpowered by a sex-crazed woman. Talia shook her dazed head, at the mercy of her eclectic thoughts, but she remained firmly in the mortal world, able to resist the lure of the spirit realms because Isaac held her hand in his.
“You are so very pale, Talia, are you sure you are able to cope with seeing your friend like this?”
They had stopped outside a door. Jenna was behind it. Talia stared into Isaac’s concerned eyes.
“I have to, for Jenna. I must help her in any way I can. Please!”
He would not deny her; the spectacular something was burning in his eyes. She stared at it, gaining strength from its beauty, until he reluctantly slipped his hand out of hers and stepped aside. She followed Katrina into the room while Isaac and Abraham lingered at the doorway. An older woman was sitting beside the bed and she jumped as they entered, turning her tear-stained face towards them. Her eyes were swollen, red from crying, and as they stared at Talia, her tears fell again. All women understood this horror, this desecration of the soul. Jenna had mercifully escaped the worst but only after she had been stripped and beaten. Talia trembled as she stared at the bed. Jenna was lying underneath a pile of blankets, her head propped up by fluffy pillows. Sweat beaded on her brow, her wide eyes staring unseeingly into space.
Lizzie got up and left the room as Talia and Katrina approached the bed. Talia bit back a gasp of horror. Jenna was barely recognisable, the white-faced spectre from her vision. Her beautiful, vivacious friend had disappeared leaving a husk of a woman in her place. Jenna’s chestnut curls were damp and matted, her huge blue eyes devoid of their usual life and laughter, agonised madness lurking in their haunted depths. It was Jenna but not as she had been. This woman was an empty shell, all joy and hope extinguished by the wickedest of men.
“Talia, Talia! Oh, no, no, no!”
Jenna’s strangulated little cries were exhausted, despairing, but Talia was relieved. Her friend’s mind was intact – she had recognised her.
“Hush, Jenna, hush, my sweetness, don’t cry. You’re safe now, I’m here.” Katrina hovered nearby as Talia sat on the bed and reached for Jenna’s hand. “You’re safe, Jenna, I promise.”
Jenna’s clammy hand clung to Talia’s, her eyes consumed with pain. “No, Talia, no! Not you too! All I could think of while he was…” Jenna shuddered, closing her eyes as if she could shut out horrific memories by doing so. “I tried to connect with you, Talia, but I couldn’t! I was so scared for you! All I could think of was that it had happened to you too and you were lying dying somewhere. I couldn’t bear it!”
After everything that had befallen her, Jenna could think of nothing but Talia’s pain. Of which, there was none. As she stared at Jenna’s bruised, cut face and split lip, Talia’s guilt overwhelmed her. She had selfishly ignored the voices in her head and indulged herself with Isaac. She had used her superior spiritual gifts to block all communication from her people, had abused the talents the spirit realms had blessed her with by focusing on her selfish desire for love. She was disgusted with herself. Silent tears streamed down her face and plopped onto her dress as Jenna wept profusely, still clutching Talia’s hand. Isaac marched across the room, his strong hands descending on her shaking shoulders, caressing them, soothing her distress. She did not deserve such tender love.
Talia and Isaac Page 37