Rebel's Cage (Book 4) (66 page)

He landed hard against the door, gasping, holding on, staying upright. Fingers in one hand curled into a fist, threatening. The other, desperate, turned the latch. He stumbled forward, crashing blindly into furniture. Another door, another latch and he fumbled with this one, fingers numb and
old, aging faster than he. A click, and he pushed this door open, stumbling again, not caring, falling to his knees when there was sudden light and the startled, unexpected depth of relief in words quickly spoken.

‘Oh, by the gods, Robert! What have you done? What have you done?’

He looked up and saw nothing. Nothing but the blackness inside his own soul.

‘Help me,’ he whispered, afraid of his own voice. ‘Please, Jenny, help me.’

*

Jenn quickly pulled back the covers, eased her legs over the bed and sank to her knees before him. His eyes roved wildly, as though he were blind, the colour so deep as to be almost black. With another wave of her hand she brought another two candles alight, to see him better, but what she was really looking at could not be lit by flames.

‘Robert, what happened?’

He wrapped his arms about himself and rocked backwards and forwards, as though trying to contain something trapped within him.

‘Robert, talk to me, please!’ She could see it so clearly, black and writhing inside him, burning him up like straw on a fire. Damn it, how could he have let it get so bad! Why hadn’t he done something to … but what could he do on his own? This had always been beyond his ability to understand, and only just within his ability to control.

Now that control was almost gone.

But what could she do? She had Healer’s Sight, but she couldn’t heal this – and Robert needed someone skilled.

‘I’ll wake Arlie; he’ll be able to help you.’

Robert’s hand flashed out and grabbed her wrist. ‘No. You. Only you. You …
know.’

His eyes pulled into focus then, snaring hers in that awesome, overpowering gaze that had once made great men tremble, and did no less to Jenn now.

‘Only you,’ he repeated softly, his mouth barely moving. ‘It … hurts.’

Jenn blinked at this admission. She didn’t have much time to find something to say, something to keep him safe. She’d used all of her words last time – but then, it had been the demon trying to kill him for vengeance. This time it was …

Quickly she put her hands on his face, holding his gaze steady. ‘Robert, tell me what’s happening inside. Tell me what you’re feeling.’

‘Help me.’

‘I’m going to, Robert, but you have to trust me. Now tell me what’s happening. I can only see what the demon is doing, I can’t see why. How did this happen?’

‘Nightmare. Nash. Fighting. Shan Moss.’

‘You remember the fight with Nash?’ He nodded, trying to close his eyes as if they stung. She let him, but kept hold of his face. ‘What else? Is it the same dream over and over?’

‘Yes. No. I’m no good at this … I’m … the demon is evil and I … keep failing. My fault. Bella and Lawrence and … you. You. I left you. In the forest. Left you because … because … I had to save … Andrew.’

‘And you thought you’d made the Prophecy come true?’

‘Yes!’ His eyes opened with a flash of relief that she’d understood. But she’d always understood this man. That was the tragedy. She’d been born to understand him, as he’d been born to understand her.

This power in him, this awesome power unrivalled anywhere within the Enclave, or outside it, for that matter. This power had always been at the mercy of the demon created by a nine-year-old child given the fate of a destroyer. And knowing that fate, he’d again and again taken on the responsibility for so much, taken on the blame and given the demon more and more strength.

That choice in the forest, that moment, had brought alive a nightmare he’d been living since the age of nine. The demon was going to make him pay for that failure.

Robert was terrified.

So was Jenn, but she knew exactly what she had to do: something she should have done a long time ago, for both their sakes.

She settled carefully in front of him, not touching him now, but close enough to reach out if she needed to. He watched her in silence, rocking still, arms wrapped around himself, holding in the pain.

In his eyes were fear, regret and darkness.

If she was wrong about this, she would end up making the Prophecy come true by default. He would kill her, unable to stop himself.

‘Robert, I want you to do exactly as I tell you,’ she began softly, keeping hold of his gaze. ‘I want you to let it go.’

‘No!’ he cried, scrambling back in horror. ‘No!’

‘You must! Please, Robert, let it go. I can contain it.’

‘No! Never!’ And he wrapped his arms around himself again, shutting his eyes and shutting her out.

*

He couldn’t ever let go, not with her here, in front of him, where she’d get destroyed! Wasn’t that what the dream was about? What the Prophecy was about? That his anger
would
rule him, like the demon would rule him – and then he would destroy her. How could she ask that of him? He’d come to her for help and this is what she’d …

By the gods, it hurt so much, making him sick to his stomach, the dizziness overwhelming, so he couldn’t tell up from down, but he was already down on the floor so he couldn’t fall any further.

‘Robert! Listen to me. You have to do this! You have to let go!’

‘No!’

She crawled closer so he could feel her heat, feel her breath on his face. ‘Listen to me, you fool! You have to do this. And you have to accept the Prophecy. You can’t fight it any more! It’s killing you. Please, don’t fight it any more. We need you alive, to fight Nash. Stop fighting yourself and fight Nash instead! Please, Robert. Just accept the Prophecy. Let it go! I can contain it, just like you did! Please, Robert I’m begging you. Let the anger go.’

‘No!’ He struggled to get away from her, but suddenly she caught hold of his face once more and his eyes snapped open,
to see the whole blue depths of hers, taking him down to that place where he’d only ever felt peace.

She kissed him. Hard. Deep. Drawing him down further until he was swimming in a blue haze, angry and sharp, vigilant and destructive.

Let it go, Robert. Accept your destiny, as I do mine.

His world shook and trembled and the demon rose up within him, reaching for freedom. Within her kiss, he no longer had the strength to resist.

And the darkness was split by lightning.

*

It roared through her, massive and uncontrollable. It shredded her, and left her intact. It bound her up, even as it freed her. And even in the pristine agony of it, she could still marvel at the awesome power of it. Of
him.
Of that which he had spent a lifetime containing: such strength, such indomitable will to deny the one thing he hated the most. He had done all this, and so much more, for the sake of his country’s freedom, for the Enclave, for his family. For her.

And though the wave of blackness tore through her, as it had done with him, she remained apart from the pain, because it was not her pain, but his. She could share it, but not be destroyed by it.

*

She fell back, tears falling down her face. She shook, all over, but she was whole. So was the Enclave.

‘Jenn? Jenn? Speak to me? Are you hurt? Jenny, please!’

His hands smoothed down her arms, cradled her face, helped her up so she could sit comfortably against the side of the bed. Half-laughing, she tried to wipe the tears from her cheeks, but her hands were still shaking too much. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just didn’t expect—’

She looked up at him, ready to reassure him, but stopped when she saw the colour of his eyes. That glorious forest-green she’d always adored was back, restored completely. And she looked further, to where the demon dwelled.

It was gone. She could see no trace of it.

But she’d seen this once before, after the last time Robert
had lost control of the demon, when he’d used the Word of Destruction at Elita.

The day Andrew had been born.

But that time, Robert had
lost
control. Was this time different, because he’d given it up willingly?

He was still frowning, still worried. ‘Are you hurt? Anywhere? Did I …’

‘No, I’m not hurt at all. Honestly. Just a little shaken.’

‘I’ll get you some wine. Where …’

‘There’s a cup I didn’t finish, there on the nightstand.’ He turned quickly and grabbed it, holding it to her mouth for her to sip. ‘Is that better?’

‘Thank you.’

‘I’ll get some more.’

‘No, wait,’ she caught his hand, made him turn back to face her. ‘What about you? How do
you
feel?’

He didn’t look at her for a moment, then he looked at the door, then at his hands, then, finally, met her gaze. For a time, he said nothing, not moving more than to breathe. When his hand moved out to dry her face, she began to shake inside. She’d kissed him, hadn’t she? She’d just done it, knowing it would complete the connection between them, knowing it would force him to—

‘I need to know, Jenny,’ he whispered, his eyes glistening, darkening again, ‘I’m sorry. I just need to know, so I can …’

He gave her no time to reply. Instead, he leaned forward, holding her face up so he could kiss her, so she couldn’t escape, so she couldn’t pretend any more, so she couldn’t lie.

This kiss was so different to the one before, in the forest, where he had forced something upon her, and made her pay for it. This was sweet, heartbroken, deliberate and wanting. And no, she couldn’t lie.

Her arms were around him before she knew it, his around her before she could think. And then she was slipping to the floor, taking him with her, tasting him, feeling the warmth and passion only he had ever offered.

Her wounds might have been healed completely for all the difference they made in that moment. She broke off, desperate
for air, burying her face in his neck, where he wouldn’t see her blush, her need, her overwhelming, undeniable relief to just have him close once more.

‘You
do
love me,’ he whispered into her hair, joy in his voice, and wonder. ‘You do love me.’

He kissed her again, harder this time, as though he needed to be sure, as though he needed to make a point. Then he moved back, looking at her with new eyes. Slowly he shook his head; his voice took on a steely quality that would brook no discussion, not a single word. ‘Never again, Jenn. You understand me? Never again. No more lies between us, for any reason. I won’t have it. Are you listening to me? No more. I love you, you love me. That’s an end to it!’

Jenn couldn’t decide if she wanted to laugh or cry. She tried to do both. All these chains she’d buried herself in were falling away, leaving her light, almost floating. But how could she promise without telling him about Andrew? Could they be like this, be at peace, without her promise? Could she make it with Andrew as a single, solitary exception – would her conscience allow her?

One look at Robert gave her the answer she needed. ‘No more lies, Robert. But … you know this can’t make a difference. I’m still … joined to the Key.’

‘Joined to the Key or no, it makes all the difference in the world to me. We’ll worry about the Key when it becomes a problem.’ With that, he sat up, helped her up as well.

She had to ask. There was no getting around it. ‘And what about the Prophecy?’

His gaze was troubled, but not hiding anything. ‘I … can’t change it, can I? I mean, I’ve spent so long trying to, trying to fight it, find a way around it, learn more so I can beat it. And nothing’s changed – except that people have died while I’ve—’

‘No!’ Jenn caught his hand, squeezing hard. ‘If we’re to have no more lies between us, Robert, then you have to stop that! You do that, and the demon will grow again. No more!’

His face was a treat. He blinked hard, as though ridding himself of an emotion he wasn’t ready to deal with, and yet, the
rest of him smiled wide, bordering on laughter. ‘Very well. Just as you say.’

‘So what about the Prophecy?’

His words emerged reluctantly. ‘I can’t just … embrace this destiny, Jenny.’ He gazed down to where their hands were joined. ‘I have to keep believing that somehow there is a way for me to defy the Prophecy.’

‘But if you can’t?’

Anguish flooded his face; he looked open and vulnerable. ‘I think we already know what will happen. I’m sorry, Jenny, I can’t—’

She raised her hand to his lips to silence him. ‘Don’t let the Prophecy be the question, Robert. Let it be the answer. No blame either way. For both our sakes.’

He smiled again, making her want to melt. Then he reached inside his jacket and pulled out an old book. With oddly reverent hands, he placed it on the mat between them. Then he sat back, clasping his hands together. He took a deep breath and looked up.

‘I know you’re still joined to the Key, and I know I said I couldn’t trust you any more but … I don’t think I ever really stopped trusting you. So …’

‘So?’

He laughed a little, as though he couldn’t quite believe he was doing this. ‘So, this is for you.’

‘For me? A book?’

‘Yes, for you,’ he replied, suddenly solemn. ‘I think it was always for you. I just didn’t understand before. And it’s not a book. It’s the Calyx.’

*

When Andrew heard the door crash open the first time, it woke him hard, his heart pounding with some half-forgotten dream. Then another door had opened and shut and he’d heard the unmistakable tones of Robert’s voice, along with his mother’s. Not that that made him feel any better, especially with them being enemies and hardly talking all the way back here. But still, he got out of bed, washed his face, put on clothes, even though it was still too early to be up.

Then, silently, he crept out of his bedroom, into the living area, though now he could hear nothing at all.

For a moment, he considered knocking on her door, but as swiftly decided against it. They might not be friends, but there was no way Robert would hurt Jenn. Andrew was sure of that – especially after the way he’d fussed over her injuries. So Andrew turned for the fire, stoking up the coals, putting fresh tufts of peat down and blowing on them a little to get them to take. Then he put water on for a brew and took out the fresh bread Martha had brought yesterday, along with a piece of smoked ham and the yellow cheese Jenn liked so much. All the while he kept his face to the door so he’d be ready, just in case.