The Song of Eloh Saga (47 page)

“Child,” Johna cautioned, “I don’t think it will be as simple as you hope.”

“Nonsense,” Krissin said. “She’s come up with the best idea she’s ever had. Don’t stop her.”

Krissin walked the length of the room, her pace dizzying. She had more energy than anyone I’d ever met and excitement only drove that to a higher level. I wanted to get up with her, but I was still too weak from the coma.

“No one has to know I’ve woken up,” I said. “You could just tell everyone I died.”

“And that would explain the broken link in your mind too,” Krissin said. “They’re probably wondering what happened to their precious hold over you. Now we can give them a good reason.”

“This is brilliant. You can have your war and I can have my life. Eloh knows I’ve spent so much of it hiding. Now I can start over, have that life I’ve always wanted.”

“Except one thing,” Krissin said. She faced me, her eyes downcast. “You can’t have Mark.”

Mark. We’d sworn we’d be together forever. One day we’d have the boring life we needed and wanted. But if I died, and he lived, we couldn’t be together, at least not while the war was raging. Too many people knew who he was: his brothers in the Sons of Silence, the people who’d seen him at the announcement a couple weeks ago, my father, and the rulers in the Northern Kingdom. With his height and gorgeous good looks, he’d never be able to go into hiding with me. Not while people depended on him.

“There are consequences to every choice,” Johna said. She sat at the table, grinding herbs with the mortar and pestle. “If you choose to die, everyone around you will also have to lose you. Publicly, too. Mark can never be yours if you’re dead to everyone.”

“And if he dies too, it’s too obvious,” Krissin interjected. “You can’t have it both ways, Reychel.”

I slumped back in bed. She was right. Without Mark, what kind of life would I have? I could easily make a living as an herbalist. Johna had taught me everything I needed to know to find a place in a small town. No one would ever suspect me. I could alter my looks easily enough. A new hair color would change my appearance significantly.

Even those who had seen me at the announcement hadn’t seen me long enough to form a real impression. Already, drawings of me were circulating, and none of them had my image quite right. Some had a big nose, others had my eyes larger or wider-set than they really were. The majority of them showed a devastatingly beautiful woman, probably influenced by Eloh’s aura that had surrounded me during the vision.

I was none of those things. I was simply Reychel, a plain girl. Not the beauty they made me out to be.

“I’ve decided that this is what will happen, Reychel. Whether you like it or not, this is what we will do. I will be announcing your death by the end of the day,” Krissin said.

“Wait!” I reached out to Krissin, my hand outstretched as if I was trying to grab my life back from her. “I’m not sure yet.”

“It doesn’t matter, Reychel. You have to do this. You can’t lead us into battle. You’ve been sick and you’re not ready. Yet my concern lies with the men in the army we’ve raised. What if they lose faith? I can’t allow that. We will have to give it to them in such a way that it can never be taken away.”

“But won’t they be discouraged if I die? Isn’t that a possibility?”

“Not when they see the way you ascend during your funeral procession.” The corners of Krissin’s lips turned up the slightest bit. Her grin didn’t comfort me. Instead, I began to fear for myself. “Oh, for Eloh’s sake, Reychel. Don’t get your underthings in a bunch. I’m not going to actually kill you. But we will put on a show that will memorialize you forever in their minds. Not one man will stand back from the war after they see what happens to you.”

“But—”

“No buts, Reychel.” Krissin sat down on the bed with me and took my hands in hers. “You know this is what you’ve always wanted. You can finally have it all.”

It was the best way. I had nothing to offer the army now. I never had. Even my gift was useless. Krissin knew the truth of it. But she was wrong in one grand way. Without Mark I had nothing.

Chapter Six

After Krissin left, I slumped back against the headboard. One wayward thought spoken aloud and I’d gotten myself killed. There was no use arguing with her. Even if I disagreed, she would make the announcement anyway. Then I could either discredit her by showing up healthy and alive, or slink away into the darkness like Krissin wanted.

The war was too important to my people. Winning back the land was good for everyone and even though I detested war, I knew there was no other way to drive the Malborn away. Free of their block in my mind, I could live a fairly normal life. But how would the rest of the people in Serenia ever live free with them still here?

They couldn’t. Once again, I’d been forced into a position where I had to give up my choices for the good of everyone else. Giving up Mark was another matter.

“This was your idea,” Johna said. The rocky rhythm of her grinding echoed in my chamber.

“Don’t remind me.”

“It’s not a bad idea, Reychel. You will finally be free and our people will have the impetus they need to fight back. They’ve been sitting on their hands for six generations waiting for you. Now that they have you, it’s time for them to fly on their own.”

I nodded and swung my legs over the side of the bed for one more attempt at walking. Even though I was about to die, I had to prove to myself that I was truly healed.

Johna set down the pestle on the table. “Do you want help?”

I shook my head and pushed up off the bed, slowly this time. My legs felt like thin lengths of rope, but I took a deep breath and steadied myself. I could do this. I took one tentative step toward the window. My heel connected with the cool tile floor. Luckily the balls of my feet followed. One foot, one step at a time.

“Could someone could be separated from their gift?” I recalled asking Krissin once if she could cut me off from my gift. The pain I suffered and the lack of ability to control it left me questioning its usefulness more than once. It was an option I’d even prayed for once late at night, asking Eloh to release me from the prison my gift put me in.

“Yes, Reychel,” Johna said. “But being severed from your gift isn’t that simple. If you lose your gift, you lose who you are deep inside. We aren’t sure how, but our gift is as much of a part of ourselves as our souls. The old texts say that being severed is akin to losing your soul. Few have attempted it.”

I feared the answer, but I had to ask. “What happened to those who did?”

“There have only been two documented cases. Both lost all memories of their previous life. One committed suicide in the first week.”

Within the space of a few moments, I’d crossed a short distance. I grabbed the window sill, and tossed Johna a winning smile. The clouds rolled across the sky. They glided together, reforming into new shapes. I smiled. No headache. Nothing but a small tingling in the back of my mind. More than anything, I wanted to control my gift. I gazed at one cloud, willing it to show me something.

I felt the world spin, only slightly, and then the vision came on.

I stood surrounded by a forest. The mighty oak, bare from the autumn death, told me I stood in the Northern Kingdom - far from the palm trees of my current home. Silence screamed at me through the rustling of the trees. I was alone, holding a baby. It giggled and reached up for me.

“Reychel?” A hand rested on my shoulder and I snapped out of the vision. “Are you okay?”

I paused for a moment, waiting for the violent nausea that had recently followed my visions. I felt nothing but calm.

“I am.” I turned to face Johna. Hope swelled inside me. I’d never had a vision of a baby before. My only visions in the past had been political, never anything so simple or closely related to real life. “I feel just fine.”

Johna’s face wrinkled as her lips turned up. “How did the vision come on?”

“I don’t know. I just looked at the clouds, asked for a vision, and got one. It had never been so simple before. It was almost as if I could control it.”

“Maybe you can? Perhaps the block Mark found had something to do with your gift. Try it again.” She pushed me closer to the window.

I found another cloud and ... nothing. I stared at the sky, watching the clouds move along, changing shapes. I’d heard other children talk about playing games while watching clouds. They’d shout out what shapes they saw and giggle as their clouds ate other clouds up. I’d never played the game before, but I could see why they’d enjoy it.

The clouds had nothing left to offer me. I still couldn’t control my gift of prophecy any better than I could before communing with Eloh. Maybe it was time to give up trying. If it would truly lead to madness, then maybe if I stopped trying I could delay the inevitable.

I turned back to Johna and rested my hand on her arm.

“I don’t want to try anymore. I’m just happy to be alive and free of those headaches. I thought my head would split in two sometimes. I can’t believe that there was a block in my mind this whole time.”

Shivers raced down my arms, goose bumps following them. I had no idea who watched me, other than that vague sense of seeing Ivy’s eye. I couldn’t even be certain now it was her. The impression was so fleeting and I couldn’t even recall it clearly.

Johna took my hand in hers and patted it. “I understand, child. Why don’t you take some time to rest? I’ll send Manda back later.”

I nodded, inching back to bed. I sank into the luxurious blankets. Maybe some sleep, real sleep, would help me recharge. Johna packed up her herbs and silently left the room. I stared at the window, still seeing the clouds. Instead of enjoying the view I’d been deprived of as a child, I pulled the covers over my head.

* * *

A light touch on my arm drew me from a deep sleep, one I hadn’t even realized I’d fallen into. Manda’s sweet face came into focus.

“I’ve been sent to help you get ready.”

“Get ready for what?” I sat up in bed and nudged my covers off. There was never a moment to rest.

“Have this first,” she said, handing me a wooden cup. The scent of nutmeg wafted up as I eagerly drank from it. Johna knew exactly what would help me feel better and I had no doubt this was one of her concoctions.

Warmth spread throughout my body. The energy I’d been missing reappeared as if it had never left me. I honestly felt I could face anything now. I slid out of bed and walked, very easily to my surprise, to my wardrobe. I grabbed the nearest dress, some ugly brown shapeless thing.

Manda laughed. “No, you’re supposed to wear this.”

My eyes followed her pointed finger toward the back of my chamber door, where the most beautiful dress I’d ever seen hung from a hook. I reached out, afraid to even touch it for fear of ripping it.

“Before you try it on, how about a hot bath?” Manda pointed to the back corner of the room. I hadn’t even noticed a screen had been erected while I slept. Steam billowed up from behind it. I’d forgotten, just for a moment, how dirty I probably was.

“Of course, thank you so much.” I went behind the curtain, took off my bedclothes, and sank into the scalding water to my shoulders. My muscles relaxed, allowing the water to reshape them. I hadn’t felt this relaxed in, well, maybe never.

On the table next to the copper tub, I spied a brush. My fingers grasped the bristles and moved it closer to the edge. I grabbed the handle and brushed my hair before slipping all the way down into the tub, submerging. I emerged a moment later, dripping wet, with a smile plastered on my face.

After washing up, I reluctantly stepped out of the tub. I wrapped a fluffy towel around my body and used another to squeeze the excess water out of my hair. A sigh escaped my lips. I hadn’t been happier, or cleaner, in a long time.

“Done?” Manda asked from the other side of the screen.

“Yeah,” I said. “Thanks for staying here while I was bathing. Can you help me with my hair?”

“Of course,” she said.

I sat on the nearest chair, wrapped in a damask robe, pulling my feet up and tucking my toes under the warm fabric. Even though it was warm, I was a bit chilled after leaving the bath.

“Thank you, again,” I said. “I’ve never done anything with my hair before, especially since I never really had any to mess around with.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Manda answered. Her fingers grabbed sections of my hair, twisting them around each other. I couldn’t even imagine what it would look like when she was done. “I’ve worked on Krissin’s hair many times, so that can give you an idea of what I can do.”

When she finished, Manda handed me a mirror. The girl staring back at me, couldn’t possibly be my reflection. An upswept, braided style, bright eyes, and a tentative smile. Definitely not me. The mirror had to be enchanted.

“You’re not saying anything,” Manda said. “Is it okay? I can change it if you don’t like it.”

I set the mirror down in my lap and turned around. “It’s beautiful. I mean, I’m beautiful. Thank you so much Manda.”

A smile graced her face. “You’re welcome. Now let’s get you into that dress.”

I glanced over toward the door again, nearly blinded by the sparkling dress. I didn’t even know what it was made of, but I couldn’t wait to put it on.

“What’s all of this for?” I asked.

Manda’s smile grew. “I can’t tell you, but you’ll find out soon enough.”

Chapter Seven

I followed Manda through the secret passageways to the west wing of castle. I’d never wandered this far before and had no idea what awaited me. The concoction Johna left brought back my strength and I felt as good as I had since before communing with Eloh. This would be my last night as Reychel, at least the Reychel everyone had always wanted me to be.

Manda’s candle flickered in the dark passageway.

She stopped short of a door, turning to me. She flashed me a slight smile, her eyes sparkling. It was pretty obvious she knew what lay beyond those doors. My heart jumped, fluttering in my chest like a butterfly trapped in a jar. Krissin had promised I’d be able to see Mark before they put me to sleep tomorrow. But if Mark wanted to see me, why hadn’t he just come to my chambers? Why all the mystery?