__________________________________________________________
“Compassion only plagues those with hearts, much like a field of thorns only troubles those who bleed.”
__________________________________________________________
“You will want to stand close by, but don’t touch it. Just allow your hands to hover. Pretend an atmosphere of acidic gas exists between you and the gemstone, and if you get too close, the acid will eat the flesh off your fingers.”
“That won’t actually happen, will it?”
“No, Amora. I’m just warning you not to touch it.”
“Why? What if I do?”
“The enchantment will fail.”
“From a simple touch?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because.”
“Because why?”
Edgar groaned a sound of annoyance. “Because if you touch it, the stone will suck out your living essence in the most painful manner possible and consume your flesh before turning your bones to powder.”
Her face twisted up imagining the agony of such a death. The worst part was that being immortal, she would somehow survive it.
“You’re lying,” she quickly decided.
“Am I?”
“You just said the flesh won't be eaten off my fingers.”
“If you don’t believe me when I tell you not to touch it, feel free to test the outcome of such folly for yourself.”
“I think I’d rather not.”
“A wise choice. Shall we move on?”
__________________________________________________________
“To offer your life in defense of another is a valiant, honorable way to die.”
__________________________________________________________
“Nightmares,” she explained. “And solitude. And
loneliness. The dark is where monsters come to life and people feel the need to
leave you. Life is never secure in the dark. You never see things clearly in
the dark.”
__________________________________________________________
(You look the same.)
(I’m not using it yet.)
(Don’t you think a test run would be a good idea?)
She nodded. (Probably.)
Her eyelids closed as she concentrated on a mental image of the person she wished to impersonate. Her desire was to appear exactly as the immortal leader, Pallador. Calling on the powers of the dragon’s blood, she willed its enchantment alive. It was Ian’s astounded whisper that told her the charm was working.
“Whoa!”
Opening her eyes she fully expected to see Ian staring at the shining gems on the dragon's blood. Instead, he was staring at her with a look that was more or less disgusted.
(That’s really you?) he asked, looking her up and down as though she had turned into some sort of lizard creature.
(Yes, why? What’s wrong with me?) Her gaze dropped to check for herself. All she observed was her tawny dress pulled in at the waist by Edgar’s hideous, glowing belt. She glanced at one arm and then the other, both sleeved in the same billowed silk. Her fingers flailed, still the same short, slender digits.
(Oh crud,) she breathed. (It’s not working.)
(Oh, it’s working alright,) Ian disagreed.
Eena glanced up to find him grinning with real amusement.
(You’re a dead ringer for the guy. Ghost robe, bug eyes, bony fingers, in need of a serious haircut. Exactly like him.)
(Really?)
(Really.)
(Cool,) she breathed and then added, (That’s not very nice how you described him.)
(It’s accurate.)
_______________________________________________________
Shanks snickered with delight. “It’s the end result that matters, doll. Only the victor walks away with his head intact. Every soldier on this ship knows that as well.”
Eena glared hard at the smirking giant. “Oh, and one more thing. Kira really hates you.”
Shanks broke out in such a fit of laughter that even Kode found it contagious. Niki smacked her boyfriend on the back of the head for being insensitive.
(Kira did not say that,) Ian groaned critically.
(So what? It’s true,) Eena grumbled. (I hate him too.)
(I don’t know why you let the guy get under your skin. Who cares what he thinks? You have nothing to prove to him.)
Eena glared harder at the laughing Viidun as she thought about what bothered her most. It was the way Shanks acted, as if he considered himself superior to everyone. The thug was always bossing people around, snubbing their opinions, surpassing others at even the most trivial accomplishments. But the worst thing was that he honestly saw himself as invincible.
(The guy is full of himself, so what? Just let it roll off your back.)
If only simple advice were as simple to carry out.
_______________________________________________________
She covered her mouth while her promised one slipped back into the rock he now considered his eternal tomb.
Pallador took possession of the scarlet gem and returned it to its dark hiding place. Eena couldn’t move. She stood frozen, facing the wall of mirrors, staring at a pathetic image that mourned in endless repeated reflections. This would be her agonizing eternity if she agreed to stay in Tribanees. This would be her hell—seeing her beloved day after day after day, unable to feel his touch or know his physical affections. This was no blessing in tragedy. Cursed be the immortal that believed time was more precious than love. Her answer to Pallador’s offer was an irrefutable and definitive no.
__________________________________________________________
“We want you to understand that the world
doesn’t rest on your shoulders. You’re only responsible for a small portion of
what happens daily on Moccobatra. Life isn’t dependent upon you alone, Sha
Eena. It’s dependent upon all of us. We’re a team. We work together doing our
own part. We need you to be part of our team, not a single entity existing on
your own.”
__________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________
“Brazen it out! Throw away the scabbard! Grit your teeth, buckle down, and die with your boots on! Or in other words, be determined and resolved until you accomplish the thing you set out to accomplish.”
“That won’t actually happen, will it?”
“No, Amora. I’m just warning you not to touch it.”
“Why? What if I do?”
“The enchantment will fail.”
“From a simple touch?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because.”
“Because why?”
Edgar groaned a sound of annoyance. “Because if you touch it, the stone will suck out your living essence in the most painful manner possible and consume your flesh before turning your bones to powder.”
Her face twisted up imagining the agony of such a death. The worst part was that being immortal, she would somehow survive it.
“You’re lying,” she quickly decided.
“Am I?”
“You just said the flesh won't be eaten off my fingers.”
“If you don’t believe me when I tell you not to touch it, feel free to test the outcome of such folly for yourself.”
“I think I’d rather not.”
“A wise choice. Shall we move on?”
__________________________________________________________
“To offer your life in defense of another is a valiant, honorable way to die.”
__________________________________________________________
“It
doesn’t ever change. Does the sun not set in your dreams?”
Eena
grinned at his profile, remembering the first time Ian had noticed the same peculiarity.
“No. It never sets.” She watched his brow wrinkle as he wondered at the view.
“What
good is a stagnant sunset?”
Eena
looked at the auburn lights. The question made her think for a moment. “Well,
it’s always exactly what I want it to be, right between day and night.”
“But
I thought the beauty of a sunset was watching it change, marveling at the shift
in colors as they intensify and then eventually fade.”
“All
that leaves you with is darkness,” she muttered.
He
turned to look at her. “You’re afraid of the dark?”
She
shook her head. “I’m afraid of what happens in the dark.”
A
look of concern questioned her meaning.
__________________________________________________________
(You look the same.)
(I’m not using it yet.)
(Don’t you think a test run would be a good idea?)
She nodded. (Probably.)
Her eyelids closed as she concentrated on a mental image of the person she wished to impersonate. Her desire was to appear exactly as the immortal leader, Pallador. Calling on the powers of the dragon’s blood, she willed its enchantment alive. It was Ian’s astounded whisper that told her the charm was working.
“Whoa!”
Opening her eyes she fully expected to see Ian staring at the shining gems on the dragon's blood. Instead, he was staring at her with a look that was more or less disgusted.
(That’s really you?) he asked, looking her up and down as though she had turned into some sort of lizard creature.
(Yes, why? What’s wrong with me?) Her gaze dropped to check for herself. All she observed was her tawny dress pulled in at the waist by Edgar’s hideous, glowing belt. She glanced at one arm and then the other, both sleeved in the same billowed silk. Her fingers flailed, still the same short, slender digits.
(Oh crud,) she breathed. (It’s not working.)
(Oh, it’s working alright,) Ian disagreed.
Eena glanced up to find him grinning with real amusement.
(You’re a dead ringer for the guy. Ghost robe, bug eyes, bony fingers, in need of a serious haircut. Exactly like him.)
(Really?)
(Really.)
(Cool,) she breathed and then added, (That’s not very nice how you described him.)
(It’s accurate.)
_______________________________________________________
Shanks snickered with delight. “It’s the end result that matters, doll. Only the victor walks away with his head intact. Every soldier on this ship knows that as well.”
Eena glared hard at the smirking giant. “Oh, and one more thing. Kira really hates you.”
Shanks broke out in such a fit of laughter that even Kode found it contagious. Niki smacked her boyfriend on the back of the head for being insensitive.
(Kira did not say that,) Ian groaned critically.
(So what? It’s true,) Eena grumbled. (I hate him too.)
(I don’t know why you let the guy get under your skin. Who cares what he thinks? You have nothing to prove to him.)
Eena glared harder at the laughing Viidun as she thought about what bothered her most. It was the way Shanks acted, as if he considered himself superior to everyone. The thug was always bossing people around, snubbing their opinions, surpassing others at even the most trivial accomplishments. But the worst thing was that he honestly saw himself as invincible.
(The guy is full of himself, so what? Just let it roll off your back.)
If only simple advice were as simple to carry out.
_______________________________________________________
She covered her mouth while her promised one slipped back into the rock he now considered his eternal tomb.
Pallador took possession of the scarlet gem and returned it to its dark hiding place. Eena couldn’t move. She stood frozen, facing the wall of mirrors, staring at a pathetic image that mourned in endless repeated reflections. This would be her agonizing eternity if she agreed to stay in Tribanees. This would be her hell—seeing her beloved day after day after day, unable to feel his touch or know his physical affections. This was no blessing in tragedy. Cursed be the immortal that believed time was more precious than love. Her answer to Pallador’s offer was an irrefutable and definitive no.
__________________________________________________________
“What
secrets?” Eena blurted out.
Kira
answered the question by defensively listing them out on her fingers. “How
about the fact that Derian was coming for you in a few short days, or the fact
that Gemdorin was forcing you to search for some magic gem we were all unaware
existed. How about the knowledge of your unusual powers that you stupidly used
to infect the Ghengats, which was also a secret you kept to yourself until it
was discovered by Gemdorin, making it too late for us to do anything about
preventing you from being beaten half to death! You hide things as if you think
your abilities are so superior to what the rest of us can possibly contribute!”
Eena
shook her head adamantly. “That’s not what I think…”
“It’s
how you behave. It’s how you come across to everyone. Your selfish actions
speak a helluva lot louder than your hollow words or your foolish intentions.”
The
young queen felt a rise of tears burn her eyes. “My intentions are not foolish.
All I ever meant to do was protect those around me.”
“By
keeping us in the dark? That’s not protection, girl. That’s neglect.”
Eena
sniffled as fresh waterworks ran down her cheeks. Her face twisted up,
confused. “People get hurt when they’re involved in my problems.”
“In our
problems.”
“No!
My problems!” she insisted.
Kira
threw up her arms. “There you go being all selfish again!”
Eena
sucked in a ragged breath, almost crying out the next question. “How do you
figure that’s being selfish? I’m trying to keep everyone safe!”
“And
what did I just get through telling you about that idiotic notion?”
Eena
looked up at the ceiling. She raised her palms in frustration as she bawled. “I
don’t know what else to do! What do you want from me?”
Kira
stepped forward and knelt in front of her tortured sister. Her hand rested
gently on Eena’s knee as the Mishmorat’s gruff countenance melted. A softer,
kinder voice answered the desperate question.
__________________________________________________________
Kira
pointed to each surrounding Mishmorat as she went on. “You are part of our
sisterhood, girl, which means for life. We rely on you, and we need you to rely
on us. We’re sisters, trusting in each other always. If I don’t know what’s
happening in your life, there’s no way I can help. And if I can’t help, then
I’m of no value. Don’t do that to me.”
__________________________________________________________
