Enchantress Sacrifice Page 2

  “Wait.” I chase him to his study.

  He locks the door in my face.

  I bang on it. The dull, metal clang echoes down the hall. “Let me in.”

  Thoughts burn in my mind as I pound on the door. What does he write in his books? What healing power does he hold in his hands? What secrets does he keep from me in his study?

  I kick the unmoving metal walls and scream all the way to the library.

  The books pretend silence, but I feel them. My fingers touch warm leather as I gather them from the floor. I peek inside. Strange marks on yellowed paper turn into words that I understand.

  The rest of my childhood is spent reading the books when I am not doing chores or working in the garden or eating with Bryntar and Taroc. Reading provides a relief from the unspoken feelings between them. The books are my only escape from the loneliness and boredom of my underground home.

  As the seasons pass, I lose sense of myself and ignore a growing restlessness and concern about my narrow existence. Words unfold my imagination. The chronicles of the world beyond this island—the sciences, languages, religions, wars, daunt me. Life, love and death. I do not understand how this knowledge applies to me. As usual, Taroc does not answer my questions about how and why these books are here.

  My hands reluctantly close the final book. I have almost reached my sixteenth season. Regret sweeps over me. Complete recall of the knowledge has made the library obsolete. Books have been friends in this solitary place. Reading made it easy to forget who I am—an Enchantress, a fugitive who hides from those who would kill me on sight.

  I hurry out of the library, excited to share my accomplishment.

  Taroc and Bryntar stride from his study. He locks the door.

  I try to keep the pride from my voice. “I am finished with the books. What is next?”

  “Now you will learn how to save the island and its people,” Taroc says.

  I laugh. “From the library to a savior. You must be kidding.”

  My mother’s words float from a distant memory. You will save us all Elandra. I can still feel her intense love filling my heart. How I wish she were here. A stray thought of my unknown father interrupts, prompting other unanswered questions. Is he still alive? Will we ever meet? I shove the thoughts into the dark places of my mind.

  “I am quite serious,” Taroc says with a scowl on his face.

  “Why me?”

  “I doubt even the Kepyr Priestess or the Ice Lord Seer could foresee what is to happen. They are blinded by too much greed and prestige to care about their parts in the descent of the island. Your parents were pure enough to be guided, pure enough to create an

  Enchantress. Even against their laws.”

  The strength of his seriousness streaks through me. I shiver. “I did not ask to be a savior. Let someone else do this.”

  “There is no one else,” he says. “You were created for this purpose.”

  Panic pinches my throat. “It is not fair.”

  Taroc’s eyes flash. “No, it is not. You must live with the consequences.”

  “Surely, I have a choice?”

  “There is always choice,” he says.

  I hate the finality of his words and take Bryntar’s claws in my hands. “I know nothing about this island. I cannot do this.”

  “It is your destiny,” she says.

  I glare at her, stunned. Everything fights inside me: Taroc’s unflinching resolve, Bryntar’s stoicism, my stubborn resistance. I shout at them. “How can I save a whole island?”

  “Your full power will come soon,” Taroc says.

  “Well that is a relief,” I say.

  Steam puffs out of Bryntar’s scaly nose. “Sarcasm fails you, Elandra.”

  Heaviness seeps inside my bones. I can barely breathe in the light. I am no match for the strength of their resolve. Resigned, I say, “What is my power?”

  “That remains to be seen,” Taroc says. “You must learn patience.”

  “Patience? I have been imprisoned underground my whole life. Suffocated with your rules, your demands. I have done everything you ever asked of me while you kept secrets!”

  “Now is not the time to answer them,” Taroc says.

  Bryntar hisses. “Now is the only time.” She stomps down the hall.

  Taroc plods after her and I realize how much he has aged. He leans heavily on a cane of twisted wood. Wrinkles tread across his once handsome face.

  I swallow my anger and wish I could read his mind instead of his feelings. It is hard to trust with the secrets he keeps and his reserved kind of love. He has never shared anything about himself throughout our seasons of questions and confrontations.

  I catch up with them and wonder if our protected lives will ever be the same after this day.

  Taroc’s hand rests on Bryntar’s arm.

  She stares down at him. Her sorrow pounds inside my body like a living thing and I tremble. She turns away, knowing I feel her anguish.

  To stop her pain and mine, I say, “What am I supposed to do now?”

  Taroc sighs. “You must leave here to learn about the island.”

  Leave the caverns? Chills crash through me.

  “She is not ready,” Bryntar says. “You prepare mind, not heart.”

  He shrugs. “She will learn or die.”

  Shocked, I gape at them.

  Bryntar’s eyes shine with anger.

  Taroc meets them with defiance. “It is the only way. Her emotions weaken her. Do you know what will happen if she cannot control them?”

  Bryntar scowls at him. “Too well.”

  He yells, “It is not something that can be taught.”

  She roars. “You never tried.”

  My heart thumps hard against my chest. “I am right here.”

  They ignore me.

  Agony flits across Taroc’s face. “Her emotions made it too dangerous.”

  Bryntar hisses. “For you.”

  “Soon I will have no time left for apology, my dear Bryntar.”

  I yell to relieve the horrible sensations coursing through me. “I am not going outside to risk my life!”

  “You cannot save an island you know nothing about,” Taroc says.

  “Who cares?”

  His eyes sadden. “You would rather die with all of us when the island destroys itself?”

  “You expect me to believe you?”

  He winces. “I have lived and studied a long time. Trust me. The destruction will happen unless you help. Go with Bryntar. Do not show yourselves to anyone.” His eyes flash a warning to Bryntar. “No one must know about Elandra until she can protect herself.” He turns away.

  Tears fill Bryntar’s eyes. She screeches and flees down the corridor.

  Taroc watches her go.

  Conflicted with her grief and his remorse, I hover on the threshold of my uncertain future.

  “I wish I had the power instead of subjecting you to this burden, Elandra. You are our only hope. Stay close to Bryntar. There are those who would not hesitate to murder you.”

  Terror makes a knot in my stomach. “You expect the impossible.”

  “Then you doom us all.” Taroc turns his back on me and slumps away.

  My heart fills with his disappointment. A far greater pain than I thought possible. I run and embrace him. “I cannot promise I will succeed, Taroc.”

  “If you do your best, that is all I can ask. All anyone can expect.”

  “I will be careful.”

  He smiles wanly. “I doubt that.”

  I grin and turn away.

  His words filter behind me. “Learn quickly or all will be lost.”

  The words barely impact the flutters of dread and growing excitement churning through me. Only in the depths of my heart have I ever imagined what it would be like to be free of the caverns.

  Bryntar waits at the top of the massive metal stairs that curve up to my destiny.

  I run up.

  “Obey,” she says. Her eyes and heart are grave
with warning. “Promise on our lives.”

  “I promise.” And ignore my quivering nerves.

  She pulls fabric from a large bag slung over her shoulder. “Cover hair. Too easy to see.”

  I take the brown cloth she offers and hide the silver hair that falls past my shoulders.

  “Do I need anything else?”

  “Summer. Dress will do.”

  Bryntar presses the panel that opens the stone door.

  My heart thumps, trying to escape my chest. I tentatively step outside.

  The island slams into me: light, color, sound, movement.

  I collapse into it.

  Five: The Saving

  “Breathe,” Bryntar says, hovering over me.

  Unable to move, shivers course one after another up and down my spine.

  “Elandra. Close your eyes.”

  I obey and remember the sunlight slanting through deep green trees, the shadows of a thousand branches, the aroma of rich soil. I sense the stillness of the animals now hiding.

  “Please. I want to go back.”

  Bryntar hisses. “Heart feels. Mind controls. Focus on one thing.”

  Moss is wet and soft beneath my fingers. I thrill to the sensation and open my eyes to dewdrops glistening all around me. I concentrate solely on the moss and its soft, white, star-shaped flowers. Stroking one, I hear a tiny tinkle and relax.

  A slight breeze ruffles the few strands of my hair that escape their cover.

  I sit up and absorb the forest, never to forget this first, true communion with nature so unlike the gardens underground. This life feels different . . . free. A gentle peace floats through the burgeoning life.

  “Where first?” Bryntar asks.

  I shut out intruding thoughts of finding my father. “To see the ocean. I cannot

  imagine how it feels from reading books.”

  “We go to Western Seas, away from Kepyrs.” She trots through the trees.

  Birds chirp overhead, trilling with wondrous melody. I laugh and experience the air ruffling their feathers as they swish above me. Dizzy, I experience their flight and fall over.

  “Focus,” Bryntar says.

  It becomes easier when I concentrate on one sensation at a time: bare feet sinking into soft, damp ground, wind making myriad leaves sing, sweet-smelling flowers.

  “It is so beautiful. How can you stand to live underground?”

  Bryntar sighs. “I am hunted. Only one of me.”

  “Were there others like you?”

  “No.”

  She says this with such finality I know it is useless to continue my questions.

  “Thank you for risking your life.”

  Bryntar says nothing. We travel a long time. A huge roaring breaks into the silence of the forest. Bryntar stops before a waterfall that bursts from a hole in the mountain. Dazzling in sunlight, silver sprays against wet rocks before splashing deep into a river. We drink deeply of the fresh, cold liquid. The feeling from the water is relaxing, even with the noise. A longing to be free from the caverns pours through me.

  “Ooohhh.” My leg suddenly thuds in pain and I fall to one knee.

  Bryntar feels my leg. “Were you bitten?”

  “It is not my pain. Someone is hurt.”

  Bryntar hisses. “Sshh. Do not move.” Her taloned feet make little sound on the forest floor.

  I jump up and wince. “Wait.” I limp after her.

  “Stay in back.”

  Her fear thumps inside me.

  We stop at the edge of a cliff. Spellbound, I can only stare in awe. The vast ocean spreads far below with more shades of blue than I ever thought possible. Giant black rocks pierce the water like teeth. Tides race toward the shore, alive with hidden energy.

  Waves crash onto the sand in rolls of white and slide back into the surging sea in never-

  ending thunder. I swell with them, one with the unceasing movement.

  A deep-voiced yell breaks the spell. “Help.”

  Bryntar points. “There.”

  Splintered wood from a ship slams against the rocks. A male figure rolls in the water, struggling to stand in the surf.

  Agony shoots through my leg again. I cry out and slip to the ground as my feelings entwine with the man’s. Frigid waves toss me over and over. Salt spray stings my eyes. I choke on mouthfuls of water, stumble up, dragging a twisted leg. The ocean throws me ashore. The man passes out. My pain subsides and I am myself again.

  Tears straggle down my face. “Bryntar, help him.”

  She glares into my eyes. “Better he die here than from Kepyrs.”

  I stare at her in shock. “We must save him. Please, Bryntar. You saved me. You save wounded animals.”

  She hisses. “Control what you let inside.” She plunges down the embankment.

  How will I learn to separate my emotions from those of others? My heart and body feel everything, regardless of what my mind wants.

  Bryntar returns with the unconscious man in her arms. She lays him next to me. “Must destroy remainder of ship.”

  “We need to get him to Taroc.”

  “Kepyrs sacrifice gifts from sea. They track, kill him.” She leaps away.

  The man wears strange clothes that fit his body like skin—a shirt with short sleeves and pants made of heavy blue material with silver fasteners. On one wrist is twisted leather.

  The cover slips from my hair when I lean to move the light wavy hair from his face. His fair skin, weathered by the sun, is rough under my fingers.

  Shocked, I realize this handsome stranger has the body of a man, but is only a boy, not much older than I am. A boy with a leg so mangled and a face so white that I wonder if even Taroc can save him.

  He moans and blinks in confusion. “Emergency room. Now. If I pass out, don’t let them cut off my leg.” Torment shoots through his body and mine.

  I wonder that I understand him and realize he speaks a version of my language.

  “What is emergency room?”

  Horror flashes into his face.

  “You’re an angel. Oh, God, I’m dead.”

  He clutches my hand. Unfamiliar warmth ripples through me, overpowering every sense, even the pain. What magic does this boy have in his hands to make my body react this way? I shiver, but it is not unpleasant.

  “Heaven can’t hurt this much.” He moans and closes his eyes. Blood oozes down his spine and mine, his life slipping away like a whisper.

  It would be so easy to let go. To drift into unconsciousness with him. To cease to be. I close my eyes, ready to surrender to the darkness.

  The melody I have not heard since I was young sings in my heart again, a melody of strength, purpose, service. It overwhelms all other senses and shocks me.

  I fight against my body and shake him. “Wake up.”

  “Ow. Lay off.”

  “You must fight.”

  He groans. “Go away.”

  “Do you want to die?”

  He twists in my arms and gasps. “Yes! It hurts too much.”

  “Do not give into pain.”

  “Give me some peace.”

  “I cannot bear it if you die.”

  “Why? We’re strangers.”

  “You cannot throw away life because of pain. Please.”

  His green eyes captivate mine. He moans. “Only because you asked nice.”

  I gaze into his soul and am forever changed. Facing a stranger who will sacrifice his desires for those of someone else frightens me.

  Bryntar runs up and scoops the boy in her arms. “Kepyrs come. Cover tracks.”

  Horror fills the boy’s face. When he starts to scream, Bryntar covers his mouth with her claws. He passes out.

  “Hurry.” She races away.

  I cover my hair and stumble after them. The terror in her mind of what the Kepyrs will

  do if they find us spurs me on.

  The journey is a blur, a fight against fear. Keeping Bryntar in sight takes all my concentration as I cover our tracks.

>   She veers from the forest, following the coastline between high jagged cliffs and waves smashing into rocks. Although we startle animals and birds, we see no one. Drums pound, but only in my mind.

  Finally, the shore disappears as broken boulders from the cliffs parade into the water. Bryntar leads me up through a small, rugged path with sharp rocks that jab into my feet.

  I pant from exertion and look at the boy in her arms. His breathing is shallow, but steady. Unconscious, he cannot feel his pain and for that I am grateful.

  We reach a stand of trees. Hundreds of gray trunks and green leaves rise to the sky. The image of the white-painted face of my mother’s murderer hides behind every tree. I shudder and climb over the rise. The dark forest rests in the distance. Much later we finally reach the stone slab.

  “Open the door,” Bryntar says.

  I do as she orders. She rushes forward with the boy and disappears down the stairs. The door closes quietly. I wobble in exhaustion after her.

  Taroc examines the unconscious boy in the main chamber. “Where did he come from? He is not a Kepyr, nor does he bear the sign of the Ice Lords.”

  Bryntar says, “Half a ship.”

  Taroc’s eyes fill with surprise, then excitement. “A ship broke through the invisible barrier? I thought it impossible. Life still exists beyond this island!”

  I scream at him. “The boy is dying. Save him or I will die.”

  Eyes of black ice meet mine. “Remove her from this chamber.”

  Bryntar picks me up.

  “No.” I wiggle in her arms.

  Bryntar says. “You learn control to survive.”

  I tear away from her and stand in pain and defiance before Taroc. “Save his leg. He does not want to live if you cannot.”

  He glares at me. “The decision does not belong to you. Only his choice determines his fate.”

  “He told me how he feels.”

  Taroc’s eyes glitter. “There is only one thing in this world over which you have any control and that is your own mind. Learn to use it. Bryntar, take her away.”

  With no energy left to fight, I let Bryntar carry me off. “Take me to the gardens.”

  Surprise fills her face. “You order me?”