Gavin turned to Elias and asked out loud,
“What do you know? What do we do next?” Elias took a breath.
Obviously, he was for the idea of just keeping me in the dark.
“We need to plan. We cannot remain here long.
I’m sure the decoy was open to Jakkar during this whole horrible
episode. He now has access to every thought Nora has ever had. They
know about the webs protecting us, and I’m positive they are trying
to find their way around them. The sheer number of dark elves in
Nora’s first memory proves this world has allowed them to become
more civilized toward one another. They do not need to fight for
energy as they normally would. I’m certain they will grow in
numbers until they find away to break through our defenses.” Elias
paused for a moment and glanced at Gavin. I grew impatient. Gavin
nodded, and Elias grudgingly continued.
“Moreover, they now understand how completely
powerful Nora has become; it surpasses anything in our chronicles.
Never has a human had the energy or knowledge to render a Dokkalfar
defenseless, yet Nora took out all six in one second. If Jakkar
didn’t have reason enough to risk his pack before, he certainly
does now.”
“I don’t understand. What do you mean ‘they
have every thought I’ve ever had’?”
Elias carefully answered, his expression held
an intense, brooding edge. “When a black elf scans your eyes, they
can see every thought you’ve ever known. They have to be in close
proximity, but if they make eye contact, your thoughts are theirs.”
I shook my head, automatically recanting the idea.
“I had my shield up. It frustrated him to no
end. I think that’s why he just didn’t kill me in the first place.”
Amazement came at me from all sides. A thought raced through my
mind. Maybe I could help. “Would you like to see the events that
occurred? We could channel my memory through Gavin again.”
“No,” Gavin snarled. His hands balled into
fist at his sides.
“Gavin, if it could help Elias figure this
out, maybe it would be worth it. Maybe Elias can see something that
we’ve missed.”
“No,” he commanded again. Fury flamed through
me, and the others grew extremely uncomfortable.
“It’s all right, Nora. I doubt I would know
more than Gavin anyway,” Elias replied.
Rena avoided Gavin’s glare and hugged my
shoulder.
“Nora, you go on up to bed. It’s been a long
day, and I know you must be exhausted. I vow to you in front of my
clansmen that I will tell you everything pertinent to assure your
survival and to assist in the protection of Prince Gavin of
Frey.”
As she spoke, the hot rage in Gavin coursed
so strongly, tears of pain welled. I would deal with him later;
Rena was the only one being reasonable. Tark panicked, but Rena’s
strong jasper brown eyes were resolved that she had made the right
decision.
“Please, go and rest. I will stay here and
tend to the meeting and let you know of anything significant in the
morning. I think it obvious you should not go to see Judge Alan
tomorrow, but I feel the need to ask your wishes.”
“Of course she’s not leaving this house,”
Gavin roared again. I turned to him, grinding my teeth
together.
When did you start making my
decisions?
I argued back.
It just so happens, Your Highness,
that I’m not in your kingdom, and you can’t tell me what to do. You
may be able to scare and bully Rena, but I refuse to be subservient
to you or anyone else, do you hear me?
My tight expression was
harder than he had ever seen.
While I do not appreciate being
bossed around, I’m also not stupid, and so I’ll stay home. But Rena
had enough respect for me to at least ask!
I let go of Gavin’s
hand, glaring at the others in the room. Blue aggressively wrapped
around my mind.
“I’m going to bed,” I blurted out, anger
making my voice steely hard.
“Thank you Rena for your art lessons, your
friendship, and your support, though not all in that order.” I
tried to smile, but only managed a grimace.
As I entered the sitting room, I flipped on
all the lights and started a fire. Crossing over to the bedroom, I
got out some of the pajamas that were part of Edna’s Christmas
gifts and marched to the bathroom for a shower. The hot water
soothed my tensed body. I finally sat down on shower floor, letting
the water sheet over me.
This does you no good
, I thought, and
I forced myself to think of something positive that would drown out
the images swimming in my mind. I settled on a summer’s day when I
was twelve. Buttery sunshine poured past Edna’s favorite gardening
hat, as laugh lines etched themselves around mischievous blue eyes.
Her laughter echoed off the ridge to the valley below. Avery
bellowed in the field, confused as to what the ruckus was. The
garden hose trailed from the house with several leaks shooting in
random spots as it cascaded its way down to the shiny yellow
surface. Edna thought the Slip and Slide would be a nice diversion
from the monotony of farm life. I spent the afternoon running and
then sliding down to the edge of Avery’s field while Edna tended to
the tomato plants next to the mayhem. The day was humid, and a
sweat line darkened the back of her favorite gardening shirt. She
longingly eyed the shiny, yellow plastic.
“I dare ya!” I squealed, and she stretched
her hands above her head and pulled her frame upright.
“We don’t dare, Sunny,” she chastised,
walking to the edge of the long wet plastic. Edna smiled and rolled
up her pants legs, took off her old gardening shoes, and placed her
knee-highs in their toes. She gingerly stepped on the plastic to
walk down it, letting the water cool her legs. All of the sudden,
the slippery surface caused her feet to fly out from under her and
she flew down to the bottom. I laughed so hard I cried.
“One more time!” I sputtered through a fit of
giggles. Edna’s face glowed with joy, as she picked herself up and
headed back to the top.
“Why not, I’m already wet,” she chimed,
sliding down several more times as the sun set over her
mountain.
We ate watermelon on the front porch and
watched the light fade as twilight ebbed into night. I had a JIF
peanut butter jar that Edna had poked holes in, and we caught
lightning bugs until it was time for bed. The citronella candle
pails on the sides of the front porch steps served a warning to all
mosquitoes that Edna meant business. Wet beach towels hung off the
old porch rails, the glider squeaked while we moved back and forth.
My head rested on her shoulder as we explored the stars. Edna
always had great stories of adventures in the Milky Way. Bullfrogs
echoed in the distance, an owl screeched for his mate. The night
was always a place to be enjoyed on Edna’s mountain, peaceful and
soothing with sounds of life all around.
The tears trickling down my face mingled with
the heat of the shower. How was I going to be strong enough to
survive this? Edna’s last words rang in my ears … y
ou must be
brave … you’re my fighter, Nora
…. I could feel the tears
increasing as they strengthened with grief. What if I wasn’t strong
enough to fight through this? The picture of the elf in the attic
flashed, and my heart ripped in two. I knew beyond a shadow of a
doubt she was Gavin’s betrothed. He had painted that picture—that’s
why he didn’t want me in the attic. My breath came in short,
painful hitches; the final revelation was simply the last straw. I
wrapped my arms around my legs and rested my forehead on the caps
of my knees. The warm water cascaded over me and I sobbed with the
grief of it all, my voice echoing off the marbled walls. I ached
with the pain of loss—loss of my Edna—loss of a future with
Gavin—loss of a home and a family. The black elf was right … I had
no one.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter
12—Healing
I got out of the shower emotionally drained,
dried my hair, and mindlessly put on some clothes. The camisole and
short set was a bit bare for the cold night, but I planned to sleep
by the fireplace and knew my fleece pajamas would be too hot. Gavin
had not come back from their meeting, and I took my quilt and
wrapped it around my shoulders. Edna’s favorite tea rose perfume
still echoed its scent, and it soothed my spirit. Trying not to
focus on those dark, menacing windows, I grabbed a pillow off the
bed. The fire warmed the soft couch, and the flames served as
protection from the terrifying night. I concentrated on Edna and
her mountain, refusing to think of anything else, and quickly fell
into an exhausted sleep.
Gradually, the blaze dimmed and shadows
danced across the walls. Black silhouettes hovered in murky corners
and white almonds and yellow teeth maliciously glinted in the dark;
a Dokkalfar emerged from the shadows. Porcelain skin and shallow
blue eyes swam into view. A fragile, ceramic hand lovingly caressed
the onyx demon, and they danced on Michael and Edna’s burial
ground. The wind whipped as night fell. Two marble headstones grew
to six, and the fair elf cackled while she skipped on the graves of
Elaine and Tark. The pair of them went further down the row,
spitting on a sculpted stone landscape interwoven with Rena’s name.
Gavin’s broken body lay at the feet of Elias’ tomb. A vicious smile
spread across the porcelain face, as the Dokkalfar grabbed Gavin’s
hair, pulling his torso off the ground. White noise echoed into
nothingness…“he will not claim you … you have no one …”
“Nora … wake up!” Gavin’s panicked voice
echoed in the distance. He rubbed my hand between his in an effort
to comfort. I stirred, realizing that tears were streaming down my
face.
His warm arms wrapped themselves around me,
cradling me to his chest. Gavin held me in his lap as if I were a
child.
“It’s too much … Edna’s gone … you … the
portrait in the attic … I’m not that strong …” I mumbled through
grogginess and tears. His scent enveloped me, and I gave in. I
would enjoy this one last time. A sob ripped from my throat, and I
pressed my face into his shoulder to keep from crying out. My nose
found its favorite spot at the base of his neck. I thankfully fell
into a mindless, exhaustive sleep and embraced the reprieve from
the world.
I awoke to the comforting scent of
peppermint. Gavin kissed my forehead, and I realized I was still on
his lap.
“Good morning, my love.” My voice was husky
from the onslaught of emotions.
“Are you sure you still want to call me that,
after everything I’ve put you through?” he murmured. His eyes were
muted with misery.
“I will always love you, even if you aren’t a
place I can call my own.” My chin quivered, as I whispered those
words; my heart ached with their pain. His breath came in small
hitches, but he willed his voice to speak.
“Last night, I followed you intending to
apologize and make things right, but you were in the shower. Your
grief echoed through the door and will forever be scorched in my
heart.” His arms tightened around me. “Nora, I’ve never felt so
helpless. Thinking you may need some time I went back to the
meeting, scanning our room all the while. Only when you fell asleep
did your thoughts come to me. Usually your dreams are of our
future; I draw strength from their power. But last night, snippets
of your life on Edna’s mountain swirled like memories dipped in
sorrow—and then your dream grew dark.” He exhaled with such force,
it sounded like a growl.
“You have never had a nightmare while here,
and the experience was excruciating. The clarity of your mind
weakened me. I froze with fear when I realized you had made the
correlation of Mia and the painting. I could do nothing but watch
in horror as visions of our clan’s death assaulted my mind. I came
to you trying to find some way to help, but as you awoke, I could
no longer hear your thoughts.” He put his long finger under my
chin, forcing me to meet his tormented gaze.
“You have never kept your mind from me for
this long, and I have to know. Have I hurt you so badly that you
will no longer share your thoughts with me?” I thought about that
for a moment. Is that what I was doing? It wasn’t a conscious
decision.
“Do you hear my thoughts now?” I asked, not
sure if I had my shield up.
“No,” he whispered. “Last night, I didn’t
know if I could survive the darkness. Loneliness doesn’t even begin
to describe this feeling.” My eyes rounded with surprise.
“I’m not trying to block you.”
His head fell back against the couch.
“Nora, how can I fix this?”
I didn’t want Gavin in pain, but I had no
clue how to fix anything. I searched for his emotions; they were
distant and weak.
“I think I was just so hurt after you refused
to help Elias that something shut down.” I wiped a tear from his
face as my thumb ran over his bottom lip. He raised his head to
meet my gaze.
“I need answers. Why didn’t you want me to
help? We’ve shared my thoughts before.”
“I was ashamed,” he quietly admitted. “The
black elf made me out to be a monster that used you for my own
pleasure. I love you, Nora—you have no idea. And yet, I can feel
you doubt me.” His eyes darted away. “I cannot live without you,
but to live with you and be separated in this way is unbearable,”
he whispered.
We sat in silence, each lost in our own
thoughts. I started to trace the Appalachian star in the quilt, as
Gavin mindlessly stared at the dying fire.
“Do you love Mia?” The question sliced
through the silence. His focus never strayed from the embers, but
his arms tightened around me, and he took a deep, unsteady
breath.
“Mia and I have been betrothed since birth,
as in the tradition of our kingdom. We grew up together; she’s like
a sister to me. I’ve never desired her in the way that I do you,
and as I became a man, I knew I would not be able to remove my
amulet. Over time, Mia grew suspicious. We were past the age of
passage, the queen had already given her blessing, and the kingdom
grew restless. When the opportunity to come to earth presented
itself, I took it.” He let out an exasperated sigh and faced
me.