“He didn’t watch her die.”
Chapter 8
The agony was consuming, like the repeated cleaving of a jagged-edged knife through the chest. Paralysis ebbed in excruciatingly slow increments, allowing physical pain through without freeing movement to try and assuage it. The surrounding darkness pervaded the senses, serving to heighten the piercing pain to even greater levels.
Fear and confusion blended with misery, escalating both until it seemed death would surely be a welcome alternative. Time ceased to have meaning, one pain-filled minute blending endlessly with the next. When the paralysis eased enough to allow it, loosened fingers clawed at hard earth. Nails broke at the quick, that discomfort going unnoticed in the wake of the other overriding torment.
Despite the eventual blinking and rolling of eyes, the darkness didn’t ease. It was as though death had, indeed, come, but the mind was yet unaware of it. Hot tears trailed down to land on the same hard surface that broke the nails.
Eventually, the paralysis ebbed enough that sound could emerge. First came gasps and gurgles. Then moans and weeping.
And finally, when the vocal chords were fully released, a single word issued in a hoarse scream.
“Mom!”
Caleb gazed out the window of the bedroom he shared with Skye. A cool breeze reached him, blowing in off the neighboring sea. He watched the waves reflecting moonlight far below and tried to clear his mind.
His wife slept on the bed behind him, a fact that caused him no end of relief. Neither of them had slept much since Tate—
He halted the thought as grief gripped him. Although he was getting better at stopping the memories that had the power to incapacitate him, they would always be there, waiting to surface. He knew now that there were no words to convey the pain of losing a child. Even the dream he had shared with Skye hadn’t prepared him for this soul-destroying reality.
But they had seven other children depending on them to hold it together. When she was awake, Skye immersed herself in caring for them. She attempted to subdue her pain by pouring her focus and energy into her family. He imagined there were worse ways to cope.
This thought brought his mind to Tiege. Tate’s twin hadn’t shown a flicker of reaction from the moment he learned of her death. It was as though he had already come to terms with reality long before they gave up searching. Rather than express grief, he had apologized to his parents for not doing a better job of watching over her.
Which only toppled Caleb’s already overwhelmed emotions.
He didn’t know what to do to help Tiege. His son hadn’t spoken much since issuing his apology, and it was nearly impossible to tell whether he felt anything. Malukali had done what she could for all of them, using her abilities as the Orculesti elder to control emotion to help ease the worst of their pain. But she explained that their grief was a necessary part of the healing process, and she couldn’t diminish it entirely. When she tried to use her abilities on Tiege, however, he refused.
Caleb felt his firstborn son slipping away from him. Though he didn’t discuss his fears with Skye, he knew they had no way of predicting what Tate’s death would ultimately do to Tiege. In the case of fully avowed pairs, if one of the pair died, the other inevitably followed. They all knew that Tiege and Tate shared a special bond due to their shared blood and unique anatomies. The idea that Tate’s death might somehow result in Tiege’s was a thought too awful for any of them to bear.
But, in considering his son’s almost catatonic condition, he couldn’t help but wonder if there was a fate worse than death.
Although he participated in his required daily training sessions, Tiege completed his routines without any enthusiasm. Speaking to no one, he went through the motions as a matter of course, possibly just trying to avoid a lecture if he refused. Caleb’s brothers noticed that Tiege seemed off-balance, though…that his weapon forms seemed unnatural. It took them several days to understand why.
Tiege was used to training with Tate.
Watching Tiege try to work through the routines that used to have Tate paired with him just about shattered Caleb. He deliberately avoiding mentioning this to Skye, knowing her condition was fragile enough as it was. Quincy had imposed bed rest on her several times in the past week-and-a-half. He knew he wouldn’t be able to bear it if something happened to Skye or their unborn children, so he planned to do whatever it took to keep her in good health.
As if she sensed his thoughts, she started murmuring in her sleep. He turned from the window, moving to the bed and sitting beside her.
“Tate…”
He swallowed hard and stared at the ceiling for a long moment to control himself as Skye whispered their daughter’s name. She sounded as though she was speaking to her.
“Tate…”
“Skye, wake up,” he said, reaching out and brushing some of her hair away from her face. “Come back to me, love.”
Eventually, Skye’s eyes fluttered open. She gazed at him in sleepy confusion at first. Then her eyes filled with tears.
Lifting her up, he pulled her against him. Doing what he could to send her calming thoughts, he asked, “Was it a good dream this time?”
She nodded, her tears soaking his sleep tank. “She called out to me.” Her words ended on a sob. “It felt like I could have communicated with her if I could…”
“If you could what?” he asked, more out of the desire to comfort her than to learn the answer.
“I don’t know. Tune into the right frequency, I guess.” She pulled back and caught his gaze. “It felt so real, Caleb.”
“I know.”
He wiped what tears he could from her cheeks, fighting his own. They had both had similar dreams on and off since Tate’s death. Malukali performed scans of their minds and assured them the dreams were a natural reaction to their loss.
In short, they shouldn’t read more into the dreams than what they were…their hearts’ wish to see their dead daughter again.
Zachariah walked through the forest, his senses highly attuned to the nighttime noises after decades of living among them. The stars in the sky were blacked out by a heavy bank of rainclouds, but that didn’t diminish his sense of direction.
Nyx moved just as quietly beside him, weaving gracefully between the trees. They had traveled together long enough that communication between the two of them mostly relied on instinct. With her highly attuned senses, she could tell him if there was something ahead to be avoided. He knew her cues now as well as he knew the areas of the mainland he had to avoid if he wanted to live in peace.
He had decided to make his way north after leaving the cave. He told himself it wasn’t because he had seen those footprints on the ground indicating a group of males was traveling in this direction with a single female. After all, he avoided confrontations with others, and had done so with high effectiveness for fifty years.
Luvania had been the first being he had spoken to in a long time. That was more than enough social interaction for the next half-century, in his opinion. Sure, his gaze scanned the ground for evidence of anyone’s passing, but he did that whenever he traveled. It certainly didn’t mean he was following that group.
Thoughts of Luvania continued to intrude on his usually uncomplicated thoughts. He had known her fairly well once upon a time. She was a talented Scultresti who was often called on to create and present an Estilorian form when a Corgloresti brought a new soul across the planes. He had worked with her a number of times himself, having paired with those Corgloresti during their transitions. She had been kind and capable.
Now he would always remember her clawing at the ground, naked and beaten.
He set his back teeth against the image. There was nothing more he could do for her. Going after this group wouldn’t change a thing.
Yet his feet continued on their course as though ignorant of his logic. After nearly an hour of arguing with himself, he ultimately decided to just go with it. If nothing else, he could find out what this group was doing a
nd determine whether their actions had any impact on him.
He didn’t need anyone bringing more attention to this part of the mainland that he claimed as his territory. As it was, he had some concerns that Luvania had recognized his voice when he assisted her. She might have identified him to the other Estilorians, revealing the fact that he was still alive.
That was the last thing he needed.
A crippling pain suddenly seized his chest. He stumbled and fell to one knee, fighting back a bellow of pain that would alert any being in the area. A sound left his throat that sounded rather like one of Nyx’s growls.
It was over nearly as quickly as it happened. Nyx sidled up to him, her faceted eyes as concerned as a kragen’s could get. He reached out to touch her snout in an effort to let her know he was okay. But it took him more than a minute to center himself and regain his feet. Although the pain faded, he still felt…off. Maybe he had eaten something he shouldn’t.
Deciding that this was officially going down as the damndest day in history, he rubbed a hand over his chest and once again started walking.
Chapter 9
Tate had no idea how long she thrashed on the hard ground as the pain ate at her. She lost consciousness more times than she could count. Fortunately, each time she regained her senses, the pain had lessened.
Her mind felt like shards of broken glass. Thoughts winked in and out of her head, none of them lasting very long.
What had happened to her? Where was her family?
She couldn’t remember. She wished for the first time in her life that she could share thoughts with someone—anyone—to try and get both help and answers.
When her mind cleared enough, she tried to reach her thoughts out to her mother. Of any Estilorian in existence, her mom had the most open mind. Tate and her siblings had heard the story many times of how her mother once transported to Quincy in a locked cell using nothing more than his detailed description of his surroundings and some of his blood on her hands. She had saved his life.
Surely she’d be able to save her own daughter in a similar manner.
Pushing past the ratcheting and pulsing pain, Tate did what she could to open her mind, using the skills taught to her by Knorbis and Malukali. She knew that in order for this to have any chance of working, her mother either had to be asleep or in a meditative state that would allow Tate access to her mind. She could only pray luck was on her side.
Mom…
It felt as though the thought went out and didn’t circle back, giving Tate hope. Another pain had her writhing, scraping her back on the stone beneath her. Fighting it, she tried again.
Mom, can you hear me?
She received no response. Maybe it wasn’t working. Maybe she didn’t have the ability to connect with someone this way. Maybe…maybe she needed to be able to convey where she was, she thought, panic and defeat rolling through her.
How could she possibly do that if she couldn’t see anything?
Tears trailed down her cheeks as she decided her efforts to reach her mother were in vain. Just as she started to pull her focus fully back to herself, however, she felt a mind connect with hers.
Tiege?
Tate?
Elation surged through her, overriding her pain. Oh, thank goodness! Tiege, you have to help me. I don’t know where I am. I—Tiege?
The connection was severed.
Wishing she could move so she could pound a fist into the ground in frustration, she issued a scream instead. The way the noise echoed told her she was probably underground. Filing that away in her still-fuzzy brain, she centered herself and thought of Tiege, determined to connect with him. If she had done it once…
That one time had been a fluke, however. Though she lay there for a while, thinking of nothing but her brother and the gradually-easing pain in her body, she never achieved the mental connection again. That fact brought on a whole other kind of pain.
Eventually, she came to the distressing conclusion that help wasn’t going to be forthcoming. Unlike throughout her life, when her family had been there to pull her through anything, she would have to try and escape this place on her own. That knowledge brought a fresh dose of fear and another round of tears.
She waited until her pain eased enough that she could think around it before she moved. Even when she felt ready to go, she remained as still as she could and listened again to the environment around her. When she had been focused on the pain, she hadn’t paid much attention to her surroundings. In hindsight, that had been quite foolish. She could easily have drawn attention to herself, bringing wild animals or similar creatures right to her.
Since her screams echoed, she knew she was in a large, cavernous space. The dank, musty odor indicated that she wasn’t near the entrance. She could only be grateful that she didn’t scent any animals.
The darkness around her was so pervasive that, for a panic-filled moment, she wondered if she had lost her vision altogether. When she stretched her neck and looked around, however, she thought she noticed a subtle light at the edge of the space containing her. Being in the dark wouldn’t have been an issue at all if she had the ability to generate balls of light like most Estilorians. Unfortunately, since she wasn’t yet eighteen, she couldn’t.
She heard dripping and bubbling and imagined there was a water source nearby. The thought of going into inky water without being able to see what was in it kept her from going near it, though.
Rolling onto her belly and groaning at the lingering pain that resulted in her chest, she reached above her head to make sure she wasn’t going to hit anything and then began dragging herself in the direction she thought led out of the cavern. The action opened up multiple lacerations on her chest and stomach, but compared to her earlier agony, the scratches were rather dismissible.
She moved slowly, pausing often to regain her breath. She fought back the exhaustion that threatened to make her pass out again. Every time she moved forward, she checked all around her with her hands. Fear of finding bones, mutilated carcasses, insect nests, sleeping animals or other unsavory things had her heart beating uncomfortably fast. She heard the unsteadiness of every breath and tried her best to calm down. It did little good.
After a while, she struck a hard surface. Encouraged, she moved until her body was alongside the rock wall. Then she continued her slow progression, now following the hint of fresh air that reached her nose. It made her realize how bad it smelled in the cavern. It also prodded her to move a bit more quickly.
Finally, she sighted the cave opening. She realized that it was night outside, as the opening was only subtly lighter in color than the rock face around it. Now to the point of desperation, she used her elbows and her knees to help propel her even faster. When she reached the edge of the cave, however, she paused. It seemed recent events had finally taught her the value of caution. She carefully gauged what awaited her.
The forest outside the cave was alive with night noises. She heard the wind shifting through the trees. Animals rustled through the leaves on the ground. An owl let out a somber hoot. Not too far away, a wolf howled.
Tate was used to hearing the muted crash of the sea heaving against the cliffs. The forest near her home was never this empty-feeling, as there were always beings about and playful panthers lurking. All she had ever had to do was walk out her door to find someone to keep her company. Now, she listened to the relative peacefulness and shivered. There was no way she was still near home.
As fear once again overcame her curiosity, she fully comprehended how lost and alone she really was.
Missing Tiege with an intensity that pained her, she shook herself from her dark thoughts. She knew she had no choice but to move on. She quashed her fears and other debilitating emotions and wedged her arms under herself so she could use her elbows for leverage. She’d made a huge mistake and managed to get herself into this mess. Now she’d have to get herself out of it.
It took her a few minutes to pull herself upright and brace herself befo
re exiting the cave. She had never hurt like this before. If Aunt Amber or Uncle Gabriel hadn’t been around, Quincy was usually there to help. Her parents, as well, could do light healing on their children, though not nearly to the extent of her aunt and uncle. Now, she felt like she had been struck in the chest with an arrow and then rolled through a pit of razor blades.
Considering this, she finally took a good look down at herself. And whimpered.
Her clothes were filthy and in tatters. Most of the seams had been broken, leaving her tank top dangling open along both of her sides. Only one of the shoulder straps was still secured. The adorable lime green skirt she now remembered putting on over her purple combat pants had torn around the waist. It slid all the way to the ground even as she noticed. If she hadn’t grabbed her pants at the waist, they would have fallen, too.
A sudden thought occurred to her. She whipped her hand to her lower back and issued a huge sigh of relief. Her blessed nunchucks were still in their harness.
More comfortable now that she knew she wasn’t completely defenseless, she took a closer look at the blood-spattered hole near the center of the tank top over her chest. When she lifted the shirt away from her skin, she realized her bra was torn and useless. She also saw a pink spot of what appeared to be freshly healed skin among the numerous scratches she had caused herself while getting out of the cave.
She had been stabbed!
Struggling to recall what had happened, she had a flash of remembered terror, as well as the memory of blood surging into her mouth. That alarming thought made her run her tongue over her teeth and actually note the foul feeling and taste in her mouth. Then she lifted her shirt from her body and brought it closer to her nose. The stench made her eyes water.
She was nasty.