Oubliette (Cloud Prophet Trilogy) (20 page)

A slave pushed the door open and stuck her head in the room, her head bowed in deference to me. I couldn’t help but smile at the stubble growing on her scalp. All the slaves looked this way now. Since our intention to free our people was finally in the open, Krissin encouraged all the slaves to grow their hair out.

They were also allowed to leave their posts at the castle, but every single one of them stayed on. Then they fought over who would serve me. To settle the dispute, I let them air their grievances and qualifications. Then I chose the quiet girl in the corner who didn’t raise her hand once. I had expected anger, but instead the other slaves cheered for their friend.

“Come on in, Manda.” I motioned to her with my hand.

She shuffled into the room, balancing a tray on both hands while a jug of water hung from her pinky finger.

“Here, let me help you.” I scrambled over to her side, grabbing the tray out of her hands. A little water sloshed from the jug and landed on the floor in tiny droplets.

A hunk of bread, oranges, and some sort of warm oatmeal were arranged artfully on the tray. I still couldn’t believe anyone who lived in this hot, arid kingdom could stand to eat warm oatmeal. In the Northern Kingdom, my old home, we ate it every morning for breakfast to keep our bellies and spirits warm. I could barely stomach it here.

I set the tray down on the table and pulled out my chair. I hesitated to sit too quickly. My head spun every time I moved too much. I’d spent the last couple days in bed instead of out mingling with our people, helping to rally them for the coming war.

I wished I could be out there to see their preparations. While I knew deep down that I hadn’t started this war, I’d brought it to a head and now people would die because of me. Death wasn’t something I took lightly. I wasn’t a general or a war chief, just a simple girl who grew up as a slave and was forced to become more than I ever imagined I could be.

I lowered myself into the chair. I looked at my food, willing the nausea to stay away. I wanted to eat, but more importantly I needed to. I hadn’t had much to eat since the gathering three days ago. The only person who could help me had to be found and I hoped every night that I’d wake up in the morning and Johna would be here.

Today, obviously, was not that day.

“Is there anything else I can get for you?” Manda asked. Her eyes met mine and darted away, even though I’d asked her many times to treat me like she would a friend.

I was different, though. A girl with a gift no one else had, but not the savior they’d wait for their whole lives. The lie that was perpetuated by a madman persisted for generations. Yes, they’d seen me receive Eloh’s blessing but I hadn’t really done anything useful for anyone.

Manda opened the door, started to bow, and then caught herself. “I’m sorry.” She stammered, her feet shuffling back and forth. “I know you don’t want me to bow, but I forget, and then...”

I laughed, genuinely, for the first time in three days. “It’s okay Manda. Really. Don’t worry about it. I won’t.”

“Yes, I won’t. I mean, I will, but...”

I glared at her.

“Thank you.” Manda bowed and backed out of the room. She closed the door and I looked back at my food.

The steam billowed up from my oatmeal, creating a tiny cloud. I whisked it away with my hand, sending the tendrils in every direction. I was sick of clouds, even one created by oatmeal steam in my chambers. It only reminded me that clouds were supposed to be my great ally and yet I still couldn’t control my visions.

I hadn’t had another one since communing with Eloh. I wasn’t sure I wanted one. Eloh told me my gift would lead to madness eventually. Not a comforting thought. Krissin still expected me to learn to use my gifts to her advantage. I wasn’t sure yet if we were real friends or enemies with a common goal. We’d had a few moments where I thought we might understand each other, but we weren’t quite to friendship yet.

I peeled an orange, the tough, flaky skin burrowing itself into my fingernails. Juice squirted on my hand, right onto the scratches that were still healing. I’d scraped them on the ground after escaping from Zelor’s oubliette. I winced at the stinging sensation pulsing in my wounds.

A bright flash of light erupted in my room. I dropped the orange and ran toward the door, my sides aching with the exertion. A portal opened, sending a gust of air through my room. The curtains of my canopy bed fluttered in the quick breeze and fell still just as quickly.

With my hand on the doorknob, I looked back over my shoulder. Finally she’d arrived! I dropped my arm to my side, spun around, and ran to Johna. I grabbed her in a huge hug.

“Child, what’s come over you?” She folded her arms across my back.

“I’ve missed you,” I whispered into her shoulder. Tears filled my eyes and I stepped back to look at her. It had only been a couple weeks, but Johna was closer to a mother than anyone I’d ever known. The months I’d spent with her had been the happiest of my life, and the most carefree.

“I missed you too, Reychel, but I hear you’re having some problems with headaches. I was afraid of this. We all knew Zelor had headaches and I had hoped you wouldn’t suffer from them since you’d been fine so far. How bad are they?”

I reached down and picked up Johna’s bag. I recognized it as her herbal bag, the one she brought with her whenever she left her cottage to attend to someone who needed her services. I’d learned a lot from her about herbalism, but I didn’t know enough to cure my headaches. I didn’t even know where to start.

“They’re pretty bad. I’ve been nauseous too. It’s like anytime I try to do anything mildly stimulating, the headaches come on full force. I can’t make them go away.”

Johna tilted her head to the side and raised an eyebrow. “Are you pregnant?”

I gasped. “No! Of course not. Why would you even suggest that?”

Johna chuckled. “I knew Mark was here too. Then again, he’s only been back a week or two, hasn’t he?”

I nodded.

“Plenty of time to get pregnant, but too soon for the symptoms to start.” She eyed me even closer. “What happened when the two of you traveled from my cottage to the castle? Did anything happen in the forest?”

I thought back to the moment we’d kissed, really kissed, for the first time. My cheeks flushed and I felt heat creep up the back of my neck. Johna’s eyes widened. I was so glad I couldn’t see myself in a mirror.

“We didn’t. We haven’t.” I hoped that answered her questions. I didn’t want to talk about what I did, or didn’t, do with Mark. Not with Johna, not with anyone. It was all too personal.

“Well, then, let’s see what I can do to help you cope with these headaches,” she said. “I’m sure I can help you. I can help everyone most of the time.”

Johna grabbed her bag from me and set it down on the table. She unlatched the two straps and rolled it out flat on the table. Tiny sacks with drawstrings sat in rows. Each one hid a different herb. Johna would know the right combination of herbs and the right amounts to mix. An untrained person could kill with the wrong measurements, but I trusted Johna’s knowledge.

“Where’s your mortar and pestle?” Johna’s eyes swept my chambers, darting back and forth across the room.

“I don’t have one.” I hadn’t even touched an herb since I left her care. Too much had happened for me to even consider spending a little time mixing up tinctures.

Her eyes settled squarely on mine and I shifted, uncomfortable. “I’ve been busy,” I mumbled.

“Too busy to keep up with your craft, child? I spent all those months educating you about herbal lore and the care of people and now you claim you’ve been too busy?”

“Krissin...and the war...” I couldn’t believe I still found myself nervous around Johna. I’d left my home, fallen in love, travelled through space and time to discover the truth about my gift, and ignited an already bubbling war. Herbs were the last thing on my mind.

I stood up straighter and met Johna’s penetrating gaze. “Yes, I’ve been busy with events that were more important than herbal lore. I don’t have a mortar and pestle, but I can have someone find a set for you.”

Johna’s mouth fell open and a loud laugh rolled out. “You have changed, child. Finally. You were too timid before. It wouldn’t do to have a timid Prophet.”

Realizing she’d been baiting me the whole time, I stuck my tongue out and then laughed along with her. It had been too easy for me to fall back into old habits as soon as she entered the room.

“Next time, I’d also prefer if you knocked on my door instead of creating a portal in the middle of my breakfast,” I said. “No one ever knocks on my door and I’m tired of it.”

A knock interrupted our conversation and I rolled my eyes. It figured.

I stalked over to the door, ignoring Johna’s stifled laughter. I couldn’t help laughing with her, though. It was funny and I hadn’t had much to laugh about over the last few days.

I opened the door and my smile multiplied by a thousand. Mark’s dark hair fell over his right eye. I reached up and brushed it away. Few things made me feel better than watching his eyes light up when he grinned.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hi.” He swept me into his arms, devouring my mouth with his. I forgot I wasn’t dressed yet and that I had a guest standing in my room until Johna cleared her throat loud enough to wake up everyone in the castle.

Mark pulled away from me, but not before one last peck on the lips. I shivered, wanting him to ignore everyone else and hold me in his arms forever. One look over my shoulder at Johna told me that wasn’t possible. It wasn’t her expression; it was the sudden pain in my head.

Even the slightest jolt caused my headache to return with vengeance. I rubbed my temples and shrugged at Mark. His arm snaked over my shoulder and he led me to the upholstered chair in the corner of the room.

I slowed my breath, knowing that if I didn’t relax quickly I would probably lose my breakfast before I’d even had time to digest it.

“This is highly abnormal,” Johna said. She hurried over to my side and placed a cool compress against my temples. I smelled lavender, but I couldn’t place the other herbs. I should have been able to. I’d made plenty of similar concoctions when I lived with her, but I just couldn’t concentrate enough to recall the recipe.

The pain increased steadily, like a vise gripped my head and someone continued to spin it tighter. “Eloh never said anything to me about these headaches.”

Johna gasped and dropped a bag of herbs. “So it’s true. I’d heard you spoke to Eloh, but didn’t dare believe it.” She bent over and scrambled to put the herbs back in the bag.

I had never seen Johna so flustered before. She had always been the calm in my stormy life, but now she stooped before me like a confused old woman. Had she really changed so much in the few weeks since I left her, or had I?

“It’s true, Johna,” Mark said. “I witnessed the whole thing. Reychel floated up in the air, surrounded by a glowing light. It only lasted a few moments and then there was an explosion of light. She was lying on the dais again, but her hair had grown out. It was intense and I’m just glad she’s okay. I was sick with worry because I didn’t know what was happening to her.”

He squatted next to my chair and grabbed my hand. I wanted to squeeze it back, but the headache had sapped most of my energy. I smiled weakly at him.

“In all my years, and I’m an old lady now, I’ve never heard of anyone communing with Eloh. We all pray to her, some of us more than others.” Johna drew her index finger around her chest in a circle and then kissed it, making the sign for Eloh. “But I never thought she’d answer any of us.”

My head shot up and I pushed away the burst of pain. “She’s never spoken to anyone before me?” It was hard to believe Eloh had never communed with anyone before me. Except for Zelor. She’d tried with him, but his madness was too far gone.

“No, child. You are the first, which only reinforces your status as the Prophet and probable savior of our people.”

I grimaced. I was tired of being everything to everyone. I glanced at Mark and he winked at me. A few days ago we’d talked about a life together - a boring life together. It was all I wanted. I’d given everyone everything they needed to see when Krissin made the announcement.

I bent over to help Johna reach the final herb. It had fallen on my slipper. But when I leaned down, a stabbing pain, like a dagger piercing my head, knocked me out.

Acknowledgements

Without my writing village Oubliette would not be here.

Thank you to my sisters at DarkSide Publishing - Karly Kirkpatrick, GP Ching, and Angela Carlie. Thank you for the support and love you’ve all given me this year. What a great group of writers!

To my critique group members, Teresa Owens Smith, Kim Winters, Kate Gingold, and Cherie Colyer - thank you for making me reach farther.

A big thank you to Marcia Brandt for beta reading Oubliette and offering me some great insight.

I held a web contest to name to name the first Prophet and LunaMoth provided the name Zelor. Thank you so much to Valerie on Twitter who suggested the name Reese when, on a whim, I asked for a guy’s name. Another big thanks to Tanya at All Things Books for naming Alia.

A huge thanks to my husband and kids for understanding why I need to spend weekends locked in the bedroom writing and editing.

Finally, thank you to every person who bought a copy of Anathema. Thank you for taking a chance on this indie writer. I write for you.

About the Author

Megg Jensen has been a freelance parenting journalist since 2003 and began writing YA novels in 2009. She co-runs DarkSide Publishing, is a member of SCBWI, and blogs about writing while juggling freelancing, volunteering, and family life. She lives in the Chicago suburbs with her husband, two kids and their miniature schnauzer, Ace.
For more information on Megg please visit her website at
http://www.meggjensen.com/
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