“I’m going after them,” he said.
Everyone turned to look at him as he rose from his stool and began collecting the dropped medical instruments as fast as he could. He started creating a mental list of anything he might need to bring even as he said, “And I think Clara Kate and archigos Ini-herit should be among those who come with me.”
“Quincy—” Gabriel began.
“You can’t go, so we’ll go in your stead,” Quincy said, talking over the elder in his haste to get out the door. “They might need healing, and archigos Ini-herit and I can help with that. Clara Kate’s ability to imbue weapons might also be needed, depending upon what evil is driving all of this.” When he saw them exchange glances, he added, “Look…we’re the only ones left here at the homeland who are properly trained for this outside of the six of you, and you can’t leave. We have to go.”
After staring at him for a moment, Gabriel nodded. “All right. Let’s go find the others and run this by them. And Quincy?”
“Yes?”
“If any harm comes to my daughter, you’ll be the one answering to me.”
Tiege didn’t think he had ever been this frustrated. They had flown west for a few hours before he finally acknowledged that he wasn’t going to be able to connect with Sophia. For some reason, the “pull” he was supposed to feel just wasn’t happening.
They landed to discuss what to do. Moonlight shone on a wide lake as they stood on the shore. The Waresti patrolled the lake by foot as well as by air. Uriel stood nearby, facing the water as he communicated an update to Tiege’s family back at the homeland. Knowing the news they received was devastating, Tiege felt like an utter failure.
As usual, Zachariah paced, running his hands through his hair and muttering to himself. The activity wore on Tiege’s nerves.
“It must have something to do with her altered DNA,” the Mercesti said eventually. “Perhaps her Gloresti nature is too suppressed by whatever gene it is that allows her to shift.”
Tiege thought Zachariah sounded intrigued despite himself. The suggestion did kind of make sense. “It’s also possible that because I’m so closely connected to Tate, I can’t extend the Gloresti bond to anyone else,” Tiege hazarded. “I mean, our dads can’t connect with us that way because they’re paired with our mothers, so their Gloresti bond is permanently attached to them.”
“You and I both have a connection to your sister,” Zachariah pointed out. “That means it can be shared.”
That was true. Tate’s vow exchange with Zachariah had been based on her protection, not on love, as their parents’ had been. Tiege supposed that meant that only avowed pairings made the Gloresti connection permanent and singular. He wasn’t sure why he couldn’t connect with Tate or Sophia, but the bottom line was he couldn’t.
“Where would the Wymzesti take them?” Zachariah mused.
That was another question Tiege couldn’t answer. He was trying to piece everything together, but Ariana’s face kept entering his mind and interrupting his train of thought. He worried about her emotional state, which had been getting stronger over these past weeks, but was still nowhere near where it had obviously once been. There was no way to know if she would get through this experience without permanent scarring.
His sister was well-trained and resourceful. For all of her vivaciousness and bright energy, Tate had their dad’s ability to think things through and do what it took to survive. Ariana, on the other hand, was a Lekwuesti through and through. As such, she thought of others before herself. This, above all, had been what caused her the most turmoil in her refusal to help find the scroll pieces. She knew her choice impacted others, but she had been unable to overcome her own fear to do something about it.
Now she had…and look where it had gotten her, he thought darkly, kicking a rock into the water with his pent-up anger.
“You have a new brother and sister,” Uriel said, looking over at Tiege. “Willa and Wesley.”
Tiege didn’t know what to say. The announcement hit him like a kick to the solar plexus. Normally, he and Tate would join their family in welcoming the new babies. They had a family ritual of sorts where each of the siblings introduced themselves to the newborns, stating what they intended to pass along to them. For the first time in their lives, he and Tate wouldn’t be around to participate in that.
“Thank you for letting me know, archigos,” he said at last.
He did what he could to suppress his emotions, not wanting to appear weak in front of the others. But he could admit that the knowledge that he and Tate had missed out on something so important hit hard. Tate didn’t even know they now had a new brother and sister.
“He is going to Kanika’s,” Zachariah said then, drawing everyone’s attention.
“He is?” Tiege echoed.
Turning to face Tiege and Uriel, Zachariah asked, “When was the last time anyone heard from archigos Malukali?”
“I last heard from her and Knorbis just before they met with Kanika,” Uriel replied.
“Prior to this, when was the last time you remember the two of them being apart?”
There was a pause as the Waresti elder considered this. Then he said, “I believe it would have been before they were married.”
Zachariah nodded. “He would not have left his wife unless it was absolutely necessary. Something must have happened at Kanika’s that prompted him into this course of action.”
“Do you think archigos Malukali is dead?” Tiege asked with mounting alarm.
“No,” Uriel said. “We would all definitely know if an elder had been killed.”
“What if she had only been injured? Deliberately?”
“You think Kanika intentionally hurt archigos Malukali?” Tiege asked.
“It would seem the most effective way to gain the cooperation of the Wymzesti elder, would it not?” Zachariah responded. “Torture is a standard Mercesti practice. They would likely know that by torturing her, they will ensure his cooperation.”
Tiege swallowed hard, knowing only too well that he was right. “Okay,” he allowed. “Suppose that’s true. What would Kanika want with Tate and Ariana?”
“The Elder Scroll.”
Tiege puzzled over Zachariah’s matter-of-fact response.
Uriel reflected Tiege’s thoughts when he said, “Kanika was the only Mercesti commander who survived Grolkinei’s rule. She has been the acting leader over her class for nearly two decades. Why would she want to find the Elder Scroll?”
“For all of her supposed power as the Mercesti leader, she is not an elder, is she?” Zachariah replied. “Perhaps she seeks to change that.”
“That doesn’t sound like something Kanika would do,” Uriel argued. “She has never struck me as ambitious. She made a mistake and she has done what she can to make up for it.”
“There is some reason that the Wymzesti elder left his wife behind,” Zachariah pressed. “I should have considered that before, but when he said that she stayed to see to Kanika’s mental state, I did not question it. I should have wondered why he did not just remain behind with her rather than leave her to return to the Kynzesti homeland alone. His reason of not wanting to convey the thoughts across the distance for fear of them being intercepted by wayward Mercesti was flimsy at best.”
Tiege realized he was right and saw Uriel coming to the same conclusion. Looking particularly grim, the elder said, “Kanika’s home is to the north of where Knorbis left with Tate and Ariana, not the west.
“We’ve been going the wrong way.”
Chapter 25
Sophia slowly surfaced from the deep sleep. Because she felt a pillow and the softness of a mattress beneath her and warm fabric on top of her, she gradually realized she was safe at home and in bed. Everything must have been a dream.
Whispers floated around her as she struggled to open her eyes. She felt as though she needed a couple more hours of sleep, but something in her subconscious wouldn’t allow it.
As her brain started to clear, she realize
d that soft light had turned the world beyond her closed eyelids a pinkish-golden hue. She took her time opening her eyes, not wanting to have to blink against the light of the dawn. Still, when she finally parted her eyes to slits, the sting of even the mild sunshine brought tears to her eyes.
She moaned, bringing a hand up to cover her eyes. Although she normally considered herself a morning being, the description was far from apt at the moment.
“Are you all right?”
Sophia jerked into a sitting position, instinctively clutching the sheet to her chest. Her eyes somehow managed to acclimate in an instant as she looked around for the source of the voice. It sounded female, but not any female she knew.
She realized she wasn’t at home, sending her already escalated heart rate soaring. The room was about the size of her bedroom, but where hers had a single window, this one sported a set of floor-to-ceiling windows that ran the length of the room to her left. Outside the windows, she saw a small, sunlight-dappled terrace surrounded by high, ivy-covered walls. The ground was a series of graduating circles that reminded her of the inside of a felled tree. On the right side of the room sat a small desk, a chair, and a nightstand with a bowl and pitcher on top of it.
The door to the room was right in front of her, about ten feet from the end of the bed. It stood partly ajar. She thought she saw a shadow in the gap between the door and jamb, making the hair on the back of her neck rise.
“Miss?” came the voice.
Whoever it was sounded hesitant, Sophia realized. Her fear settled into a healthier range as she realized she wasn’t under any immediate threat.
“I’m…okay,” she responded. “Where am I?”
“You are safe. We found you in the marshes. You were clearly in need of aid.”
Knowing that was true, Sophia said, “Thank you.” She glanced down and realized that, although she was clean—and she really didn’t want to know who had bathed her—she was still naked. She debated whether or not to try to find clothes, since she really wanted to get back in the air in search of Tate and Ariana. Should she shift, or just use her wings?
“I am Melanthe,” said the female on the other side of the door.
“Oh. Hi. I’m Sophia.”
“Is there anything that you need, Sophia?”
Finding the whole talking-through-the-door thing very odd and wondering where on the plane she was, Sophia tilted her head and replied, “Well, I’d like to thank you face-to-face. You don’t have to be shy, Melanthe. You’ve already seen me at my worst and I’ve got the sheet to cover me now.”
In response came the sound of exchanged whispers that Sophia strained to hear. She was pretty sure she detected a minimum of three voices, which just increased her curiosity. Just when she was about to use her shifting ability to give herself the hearing of an owl, the voices silenced on Melanthe’s abrupt, “Just try and stop me.” Sophia’s eyebrows rose over the firm tone in the other female’s voice…quite different from the uncertainty of a moment ago.
“Very well, Sophia. I will enter. But please try not to panic.”
Why would she say that? Sophia wondered. Her anxiety rose as she—naturally—panicked. The door opened enough to admit the female, who closed it quietly behind her. Sophia had only to take a quick look to understand why she had been warned.
Her hands raised in peace, Melanthe stood against the door as though afraid to move any further into the room. Her golden-brown hair fell in soft, shimmering curls to just below her shoulders. It had been captured with ruby-encrusted combs behind each ear, giving her a very youthful appearance. The olive tone of her skin was complemented by the flowing red gown she wore. There was nothing at all threatening about her.
Except the fact that she was a Mercesti.
And that meant, Sophia realized as her fear once again surged, that the multiple beings standing outside of the room were also probably Mercesti.
“I will not hurt you,” Melanthe said in her quiet voice.
It was hard not to believe her. She appeared ready to fling the door open and throw herself back out of the room if Sophia showed even the slightest discomfort over her presence. Although her heart continued to hammer in her chest, Sophia found herself more puzzled than frightened.
“Okay,” she replied slowly, her mind processing this turn of events. A Mercesti who had not only rescued her, but didn’t wish to harm her?
That thought made her think of Zachariah, the only Mercesti she knew. He fell into a similar category as Melanthe. He had saved Tate and, although he frequently threatened to throttle her cousin, Sophia knew he would never harm her. Maybe these Mercesti were dedicated to Kanika’s ideals and the concept of transforming the class into something other than the evil plague it had become under Grolkinei’s leadership.
“Are you not afraid of me?” Melanthe asked.
“Not particularly,” Sophia admitted, surprising herself. She had no good reason to believe this female with so little evidence to support her claim, yet she couldn’t deny that she felt at ease here.
“Even though I am a Mercesti?” Melanthe pressed.
“Even though.” There was a long pause. Finally, for lack of anything else to say, she asked, “Is this your home?”
“Yes.”
Sophia offered the other female a small smile to try and ease some of the tension between them. “Well, from what I can see of it, it’s quite lovely.”
The words more than the smile seemed to have the right effect. Melanthe’s pretty face eased from strained concern into an expression of pride and contentment. “Do you think so?” she asked, sounding very much like any other hostess might when a stranger entered her home. “I would be happy to show you around if you would like.”
“That’d be great, thanks,” Sophia responded, though in truth she was more eager to leave and go after her cousin and friend than walk around the dwelling. Still, this female had played a part in saving her life. A few more minutes wouldn’t hurt. She glanced again around the room, but she unfortunately hadn’t missed spotting a clothes-bearing armoire. “I don’t suppose you have a spare set of clothing around here, do you?”
Now, Melanthe’s entire demeanor changed. She lost any sense of uncertainty and actually appeared pleased by the question. “I do not, but I can generate some clothing for you if you would allow me to scan your form for the proper size.”
“Oh! You were once—er,” Sophia stopped herself, not sure whether discussing the female’s former class was taboo. She felt a flush building as she thought of how to recover from her blunder.
“That is correct,” Melanthe said matter-of-factly. “I was once a Lekwuesti.”
“Sorry,” Sophia responded, not sure what else to say.
To try and move things along, she climbed out of the bed and stood naked beside it. Being without clothing was second-nature to her, so she didn’t feel much embarrassment as Melanthe’s eyes began to glow so she could do a visual scan of her form. Sophia knew, having questioned archigos Sebastian at length over the years, that Melanthe’s Lekwuesti abilities were allowing her to take Sophia’s measurements by sight. Not all Lekwuesti could do this. It depended upon the individual strengths of the Lekwuesti.
“Excellent,” Melanthe said a moment later.
Although the glow subsided, her eyes continued to absorb every detail, from Sophia’s hair and eye color to her height and build. Then she nodded. Walking over to the bed, she concentrated and soon brought forth a number of clothing items.
Intrigued despite the surreal feel of the moment, Sophia moved closer to the bed. The gown was a shade of deep blue-green just a bit darker than her eyes. The fitted, square-necked bodice had golden laces up the front and looked rather low-cut. It had long sleeves and a full, floor-length skirt with gold stitching woven through it.
“Is this velvet?” Sophia asked, reaching out to caress the bodice.
“Yes. And the skirt is made of a satin blend I developed. It helps maintain warmth as well as wool, but has t
his lovely shimmer and breathability.”
“It’s gorgeous,” Sophia said, her eyes wide. Then she took in the undergarments beside it. “Is that a corset?”
“Of course it is,” Melanthe replied with a wrinkle forming on her brow. “Do you not wish to wear any undergarments?”
“I do want to wear undergarments, but I’m not used to this, uh, particular style.”
The Mercesti considered this. “Well, I did adjust the corset to be less painful but just as flattering to the female figure as the styles from centuries ago,” she said. “If you will allow me to assist you in donning it, we can determine whether you want to keep it on.”
If it meant the difference between having undergarments or not, Sophia was positive she would want to wear the corset, but she didn’t share that comment. Instead, she obediently allowed the Lekwuesti to assist her, once again wondering why she felt so at ease when everything she’d been taught should have had her running out the door, shifting into a cheetah and never looking back.
“Mel, what is taking so long?”
The voice that rumbled through the closed door had Sophia jumping. There was such a thick, rolling burr to the words that she could barely understand them. She thought back to her past education on the history of dialects and registered that the accent sounded like what humans called Scottish.
“I am getting her dressed,” Melanthe called out. “Be patient.”
Sophia thought she heard a resigned sigh from behind the door and her lips curved into an unexpected smile.
“I did not hear any screeching when Melanthe made her appearance,” came another male voice. “We can take that as a good sign, no?”
That had definitely been a French accent. It was getting harder and harder to be alarmed when the conversation around her was so very normal. Before she could think more about it, she realized that Melanthe had gotten her fully secured in the unusual undergarments. Looking down at herself, Sophia felt the astonishment on her face.
“Wow—I have cleavage!”
“Of course you do. You have breasts, do you not?”