Authors: Mara Valderran
The room was dark, save a few flickering candles. Their wicks
struggled to stay lit; the hours burning them had stripped the candles down to their ends. The room seemed to constrict as the light continued to dim, though the stone walls never moved. A shadow stretched across the dirt floor, flowing smoothly behind its owner. Her long blonde hair shimmered in the faint candle light, and her pale skin flushed with anger, accenting the telltale lines around her eyes that had begun to reveal her age. She turned back toward the limp, beaten figures bound at her feet.
"You test my patience, Nandalia." Kellen narrowed her ice blue eyes at the captive woman hunched on the ground. "Agree to my terms, and all this can end."
Nandalia stretched herself as tall and proud as her broken body would allow. Her reddish-brown hair was matted and caked with blood and dirt. The green dress she'd been wearing had been turned into rags, hanging off of her body, revealing the bruises and gashes underneath. She clutched the hand of the lifeless man beside her, fighting to recall the person he had been before the bloodied and pallid shell he had become. She still couldn't understand how Kellen had managed to kill him, but it had been weeks, and his body had yet to repair itself. He had fought until the end, and so would she. She raised her chin higher and stared firmly at the wall.
"Your silence speaks volumes." Kellen knelt before her prisoner. "Silence didn't do much good for your protector, though." She lifted a twig and prodded his cool form.
Nandalia's ire raised beyond control at this. She took advantage of her captor's close proximity and spat in her face. "Don't touch my Cyneward," she snarled.
Kellen effortlessly
raised herself, turning away as she pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of her dress and used it to address the spit on her face. "Temper, temper...we've been through this time and time again. You know what happens." She smiled, a rictus grin that never seemed to reach her nearly reptilian eyes, and turned back to face Nandalia, aiming her right hand at her chest.
Nandalia pitched forward as she writhed in agony. Kellen relish
ed in her screams, the same wicked smirk playing across her lips, her focus never leaving her prey. After several drawn out, anguished moments, Kellen released her hold, and Nandalia found she was able to breathe once more.
Nandalia remained doubled over, still gasping for air as she
coughed up blood. "Do whatever you wish with me," she panted. "I still won't help you. I will keep them safe until my dying breath."
Kellen knelt down once more with a sympathetic smile. "They are no longer safe, my dear, regardless of your breath." She grabbed a fistful of her captive's hair and pulled her forward, pressing her mouth against her ear as she whispered, "I know where they are." She rose slowly, towering over the weakened leader as her shadow enveloped Nandalia in darkness. "Now, my darling little Duillaine, you may take your last breath."
Nandalia threw her head back with a scream as she felt her flesh start to burn. "Keep them safe, Isauria. Protect them!" She begged to the ceiling, tears flowing. She opened her mouth and let out an agonizing cry joined with another one far away.
***
"MOM," Isauria screamed in her sleep, thrashing around under her sheets. She continued to flail about as two hands clamped down on her shoulders, pinning her down.
"Izzy! Isauria!" Liam's voice
urged in the darkness. "Wake up.
Isauria!
"
Her tear
-drenched eyes fluttered open, and she let out a quiet sob as Liam pulled her into his arms. Her fists clutched to his flannel robe, her cries growing stronger as he comforted her.
"It's okay," he soothed,
rubbing her back, his hands shaking. "You were having a bad dream, that’s all."
"
It was so real, Dad." She pulled away, pressing her palms against her eyelids. She could still smell the stench of death from the cells where Nandalia had been kept, almost as if she had been standing beside her. But her dreams were always like that. They were so vivid and rich with detail that she would swear she had been transported somehow.
He placed a hand on her cheek and wiped away a tear with his thumb. "Tell me what happened. What did you see?"
She pulled her pillow into her arms, squeezing it tight against her chest, and leaned back against her headboard. "Nandalia. She's one of the Duillaine Banair. The people who rule over the worlds," she explained. "Kellen had her, and she was torturing her, trying to get her to agree to help her. No matter what she did, Nandalia refused. She just kept taking whatever Kellen dished out." She slumped against her headboard and a few more tears fell.
"What did Kellen want Nandalia to help her with? Did she really think Nandalia would betray her own daughters to her enemy?"
"No, she already knows where they are," Isauria responded dismissively. "I’m not sure what she wanted her help with. I didn't see that. It seemed like she wanted to learn more about the Prophecy, but I can't be sure." She sat up straighter as she noticed all the color had drained from her father’s face. “What’s wrong?”
Liam ignored her concern, matching her question with his own. "What do you mean she already knows where they are? What else did Kellen say?"
Isauria lifted her head up, giving her father a puzzled look. "She didn't say much of anything before she killed Nandalia. Just snuffed out her life like she was nothing." She sniffled. "She's pure evil."
He ran hand over his face, which he usually did when he was worried. "How did Kellen get to Nandalia? Through her protections?"
"I’m not sure. She’d already killed Alistair, though. Right in front of Nandalia," she said as her forehead wrinkled with her words. “He was her protection. Without him….”
His eyes widened at the implications of this. "That's impossible."
Isauria understood exactly what her father meant. Alistair had been the Cyneward to Nandalia, which meant he had blood-bound himself to her to protect her until her last breath. This bond also meant he was bound to the element of Earth as well. As long as their ward breathes, the earth itself protected the Cynewards, healing even the gravest injuries instantly so they might in turn protect the Duillaine they were bound to. The Duillaine alone were powerful enough to break this bond with Earth and kill a Cyneward. The idea that Kellen had managed to accomplish this was both absurd and terrifying.
"She found a way," she said with a shrug. "I don't know why I'm crying. It's silly. I should be happy, right? This is good for my story. Plot developments are usually a good thing." She sounded more like she was trying to convince herself than voicing her actual feelings.
Liam patted her knee. "I'll let you get to your notes," he said as he nodded toward the laptop on her nightstand. "Try to get some rest. I've got the feeling today is going to be a big day."
***
Sheridan slid into the chair next to Ariana, clumsily putting her books on the desk before turning to her new friend, her face alight with excitement. "I found the absolute perfect dress for tonight. It's red, but like with this black netting over top and comes to about midthigh. I'm bringing a backup in case that one looks too risqué, but I hope it doesn't cause I love it."
Ariana
fumed, tapping her pencil against the desk as they waited for class to start. "No worries,” she said. “If your dress doesn't work, you can borrow mine. I can't go."
Sheridan’s face fell. "Why not? I thought you said your parents agreed as long as Tate took you. Did he back out?"
"No,” Ariana answered with a tight jaw, “but the other condition was that my Dad's friend had to chaperone.
He
backed out. Varrick called my Dad this morning. Apparently there's some kind of crisis at work, and Varrick has to go out of town."
"Well, you can't get mad at him for that. I mean, he's not going to be here and work has to come first, right?" Sheridan reasoned before biting on her lower lip.
"I'm not mad at
just
him," Ariana said as she yanked her hair into a messy ponytail. “I’m mad at my parents for being so stupid. But most of all? I’m mad at the back-stabber Tate turned out to be.”
“What do you mean?”
She turned in her seat, lowering her voice as the teacher began calling roll. “He’s the reason I can’t go. He told Varrick not to let me. Oh, and then I overheard Varrick talking to my Dad after dinner last night about some big plan. And
they
started talking about keeping me safe. I don’t know what’s going on, but there’s some big secret they’re all keeping from me. And whatever it is, it’s the reason I can’t go to the dance. Apparently, it’s not ‘safe’ for me.”
Sheridan covered her mouth with her hand, eyes wide. “Oh my gosh! Do you have a stalker or something?”
Ariana hadn’t thought of that. All this talk of being kept safe, and not once had the thought occurred to her that they might all actually be protecting her from something. “I…I don’t know. I mean, I’ve never seen anyone following me. There’s was this new guy last year that was a bit weird, but whatever. He moved away. He was a total emo anyway, nothing serious.”
“Have you asked Tate?”
“How can I? He’s been M.I.A. pretty much since he called Varrick to kill off the last hope of a social life I had.”
“What does M.I.A. mean?”
Ariana blinked at her new friend, wondering just how sheltered she had been. “Missing In Action. It’s a military term or something. So you really think all this secret stuff is about a stalker?”
Sheridan waved her off. “Probably not. I just watch too many movies. Look, I say we go to the dance anyway. We’ll talk to Allen beforehand so he knows to look out for trouble. Maybe we should even tell some teachers too.”
“Tell some teachers I snuck out against my parents’ wishes to go to a dance where a potentially dangerous stalker that I know nothing about might be lurking in the shadows?”
Sheridan laughed. “Okay, point taken. We’ll mention it when we get there. Pick you up around five?”
Maybe she was giving more voice to the rebellious teenager locked inside her than usual, but she was determined to go to this dance like a normal girl, regardless of the cost. “Meet me at Emma’s. We’ll get dressed there like we planned. We’ll just leave Tate out of it this time.”
***
Zelene was in a pretty bright mood as school let out, but it darkened significantly as she spotted Varrick. She was happy to see him, of course. They were going camping this weekend, and she planned on talking him into letting her move in. She’d even taken pictures of her black eye as a sort of visual aid to the presentation she had planned.
But Varrick wasn’t alone. He was standing with Kyle, which really pissed her off. Despite everything he had put her through, Varrick still insisted on being nice to her ex. Every time she call
ed him on it, he would simply say, “What? He didn’t dump
me
.” Because pointing out that she got dumped always made her feel better. Really.
She decided not to let Kyle’s presence ruin her good mood, and approached the pair with a pep in her step. She wrapped her arms around Varrick’s overly-large biceps and watched them continue their conversation with a smile on her face.
“What happened to your hand?” Varrick nodded to Kyle’s battered knuckles.
“Punched a w
all,” Kyle answered as he flexed the hand in question.
“What’d the wall do to you?”
“It got in my way, okay?” Kyle snapped. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet, ready to launch himself away from her as fast as possible. “Anything else?”
“Just making conversation.” Varrick turned to Zelene. “What’s got you in such a good mood?”
“Are you kidding me?” Zelene laughed incredulously. “What you did to Nora, that’s what. She has a shiner to match mine, and she’s so scared, she won’t even look at me now. But she did make me breakfast. She might be a bitch, but she makes a mean pancake.”
Varrick nodded,
rubbing his chin in exaggerated thought. “Someone laid into Nora, huh?”
Zelene looked back and forth between Varrick and Kyle, who was shifting uncomfortably. “
What do you mean? It wasn’t you?”
Varrick looked pointedly at Kyle. “You should get that hand looked at. You can break bones on something as hard as a wall. Especially if it really deserves it.”
No way. There was no way Varrick was implying
Kyle
had taken revenge on Nora for her sake. “Stop trying to play off your super hero status, Varrick. And stop trying to earn Kyle points he doesn’t deserve.”
“Whatever,” Kyle looked up at Varrick, that same odd and heavy look in his eyes she could never understand. “Can I go?”
Varrick wasn’t paying any attention as he read a text message on his phone. “Shit. Don’t move. Either of you.”
“Man!
” Kyle threw his hands up in the air and paced away from Zelene.
She was still watching him contemplatively. Why would he go after Nora? It made no sense. Then again, nothing about Kyle made sense lately. “Why don’t you just leave? What do you care what Varrick thinks?”