Realm Leaper, page 33
“Citizens of Thuledain, residents of Techeduin. We are here today to enact the sentencing against Ian Dunbar. He sits here before you, found guilty of organizing and facilitating a terrorist group aimed at disrupting our peaceful nation.”
The President paused, allowing the words to ripple through the crowd. Sage stood still, staring at Ian as the President spoke. She was short enough that she could hide among the crowd, barely reaching many of the men’s shoulders. She stared and stared up at Ian, chained to the chair, hoping against hope that she could make eye contact with him, someway, somehow. She was running out of time, and if she could just get him to look at her.
She readied the Egress Key in her pocket. As soon as she had a plan, she would be ready to jump with Ian.
“We will not drag this out today,” the President droned on. “We recognize the busy lives of our constituents in Techeduin. In order to proceed, we will give the guilty a final chance to confess to their crimes, before we honor our forefathers and serve justice at last.” The President approached Ian, who continued to look forward; no, he wasn’t looking forward. Very slightly his eyes roved across the assembly of people amassed in front of him, scanning—for what? Who? His gaze fell on Sage, but only for a second before he raised his eyes once more, looking above the crowd at the buildings which rose into the distance.
The President repeated the charm, allowing Ian’s voice to be amplified once more. “Tell the people,” the President demanded, “how sorry you are for leading your followers into despair; how you wronged your nation by acting against us, targeting us with your malicious intent.” The President grinned widely at Ian as if daring him to say the wrong thing.
Ian spoke clearly and strongly, “I would like to apologize to those I love, and to the people of Thuledain…for not knowing the truth sooner. Do not come. Run…save yourself. Fight against the tyranny—” his voice cut off, the President ending the charm with a wave of his wand.
Ian was still speaking, trying to yell above the commands being given by President Ranquer. Four government agents approached Ian, wands out, and the mighty chains began to snake into the air, extending Ian’s limbs so he floated in the air, sprawled into an X shape.
He was still yelling, “Go…Run!” as the agents held their wands.
Ms. Dullahan approached Ian smiling like a cat playing with a bird, along with two other agents. All three raised their wands in unison; electricity shot from their extended wands and wrapped around Ian. He thrashed, sparks flying from his mouth and eyes as the agents held their spells on the chains. It was over in a minute, Ms. Dullahan and the others lowered their wands, Ian slumping despite the chains continuing to hold him up.
He was gone. Ian was dead. Drums pounded in Sage’s ears as reality set in. She’d been too late. He died because of her.
Sage bit down on her scream, her knees wobbled, and she stared at the scene ahead. Ian’s eyes remained open, bulging from his face. Blood ran from his mouth, his nose, ears…a healer walked forward as the chains lowered his body, but Sage didn’t need to see her nod her head in confirmation. She could feel it in her soul. Ian was gone. They’d killed him. She bit her tongue hard enough to draw blood, forcing her legs to hold her upright as the President began speaking once more.
The Egress Key was in her hand. He was speaking, she was turning the stone: one….two…three…four….tears streamed down her face……five…six…a sob finally to burst from her mouth….seven…eight…nine…the crowd lurched as if it were released from a spell….ten.
Her knees hit the soft, earthen ground of a forest. She screamed as she knelt in the dirt, laid her face on the ground as she screamed, hands clutching her head. Ian was gone. He was dead, and it was because of her. She’d done this. She left him there to fend for himself, hadn’t dared to look back as she’d answered the gods’ summons. How could she have done this?
Earth rattled around her, stones lurching up through the ground. Wind whipped in a frenzy, and she began hearing the crackling of fire. Smoke filled her lungs.
Sage screamed until her voice refused to work; she sobbed into the dirt until she was retching in the spot she sat. Tears refused to stop and she succumbed to the feeling of loss as raindrops poured around her. No clouds hung in the starry sky, but raindrops spontaneously appeared in the air and fell heavy and fat to the ground, squelching the pockets of fire that had sprouted around Sage. She pushed herself against the trunk of a massive tree and stayed there until she passed out against exhaustion.
“Get up, girl,” a rough, female voice demanded.
Darkness wrapped itself around Sage, smothering her senses, smothering her will to live. She wasn’t sure if her eyes drifted closed, or if this was what it felt like to finally give in to fate and quit fighting.
“Get up, now,” it repeated. Light reappeared. As if she were blinking in slow motion, her awareness came back. The weight of truth threatened to bury her.
Darkness, like a heartbeat, wrapped around her once more. The breath was strangled from her, and she wished she could succumb to it once and for all.
Her eyes peeled open. Brighid stood before her; rough hands grabbed Sage and placed her on her feet. “Go. Now,” Brighid pointed up the face of a large mountain. The goddess’s hair whipped around her like flames. Her skin glowed with power.
Another heartbeat. Darkness again.
Sage was running now. She could see the lip of the cave she had to reach, the landing of it jutting away from the seemingly smooth mountain face. A silvery, round drone flew mere feet from her. Sage ran harder, feeling the heat of a flaming arrow shoot past her. The drone exploded, shards of metal whizzing past, slicing her cheek.
Darkness.
The drones were back. Hot breath sawed from Sage’s chest, her fingers bled as she scraped herself across the rock face. She was scrambling over boulders and heard the hum of a drone as she crouched behind one of the massive stones, not daring to breathe. She reached into her power, searching for some sort of thread to pull, to squash the drone under a landslide.
She couldn’t find it; she’d lost her magic. She was broken.
The ground shook, and before Sage could react, boiling jets of water burst from the earth’s crust, engulfing the drone. Allyra stood next to Sage, and hoisted her to her feet, pushing her up the steep slope of Mount Danu. The Goddess’s skin was slick, cold. Allyra turned sharply, releasing a wild battle cry as she let loose a wicked battle ax, smashing another drone. Sage’s feet hit the ground hard as she ran. A wild laugh rang out as she heard more drones explode, and the ground rumbled as more jets burst from the rock face.
Darkness.
They were nearly there. Just ten more feet and they would be to the cave. The cave glowed red as if the heart of a volcano rested inside. Flaming arrows continued flying past Sage’s face. Soldiers were down below now, gathering themselves and their weapons. Something exploded down below, and Sage felt part of the mountain slip away. A mighty wind barreled down the mountainside, knocking down the trucks and tanks lining up, preparing to climb up the mountain. A muscular arm grabbed her as she slipped.
Cerridos. He hauled her over the lip of the cliff. “Keep going,” he urged. Spears appeared in each of his hands and he threw them down onto the soldiers below. Torrents of wind pummeled the trees, flattening the massive pillars, and squashing trucks like bugs. Sage ran.
Darkness.
She was inside. She stood on the portal. All four insignias were in place, she opened the book, and found what she was looking for. She would go to TupaGuara, a land full of rivers and forests. She was focusing on the land when she heard the voice. “My dear…you didn’t think you would get away with it did you?”
Sage whipped her head around. He was here. The President had arrived. “Give me the insignias,” he demanded. The archways were glowing. The insignia she stood on glowed. She was going, she could make it.
“TupaGuara,” she said. “TupaGuara, TupaGuara, TupaGuara,” she repeated over and over, as the President continued walking forward, flanked by Ms. Dullahan and another unreal-looking agent. “Give me the insignia,” yelled the President.
Ms. Dullahan shot out, away from the President, running for Sage. Sage slapped the ground, steadying the final insignia.
She could feel the floor moving, falling away. But Ms. Dullahan was almost there. Without thinking, Sage reached forward and scooped up the four insignias. She couldn’t let Dullahan get her hands on them.
Before Sage could react, the floor fell; Ms. Dullahan’s outstretched hand was inside the glowing orb Sage was contained in, and then…
Darkness.
30
✧✦✧
Symon, Suda, and Gavin sat in Symon’s study. Aryael had long gone to bed, having thoroughly enjoyed her feast. Symon looked forward to getting back to their room, something she had whispered in his ear was replaying in his mind.
But he was enjoying Gavin and Suda’s company. The two had cleared part of Symon’s study and had challenged each other to various wrestling and sparring challenges. Despite Suda’s enhanced speed and strength powers, Gavin seemed to have a sixth sense, able to anticipate Suda’s every move before the male made it. If Symon didn’t know better, he would have guessed the young Lord possessed mind-reading abilities similar to himself.
Now the three of them sat on the comfortable, oversized chairs, laughing about stories from their youth–and Gavin’s current youth. Suda found the stories of Meliza besting Symon in combat training especially entertaining.
Warning gripped Symon by the neck, and he shot to his feet. Something was wrong. Both Gavin and Suda stilled, looking to Symon in question.
The air across the entire city seemed to still. A sudden change in air pressure sent a pulse of pain through Symon’s temples. The fire went out, strange because it was enchanted so it would burn continuously. Symon reached his power out across his city; he could feel the sea pull away from the shore. Then…
The wind howled against his palace, the fires roared back to life, candles lit, and the sea raged against the shore. Streets, buildings, and even the mountains in the distance rumbled like thunder.
It was over as quickly as it began, but he knew the source.
Symon cast into Sage’s room. She was in her bed, her face stretched in a silent scream, back arching off the bed.
Her door burst open. Gavin barreling into the room.
“What’s wrong,” he demanded. Gavin stalked forward, going to reach for Sage, but Symon stopped him. Her skin glowed red hot and he could feel power pulsating from her.
Symon reached a hand down onto Sage’s head just as Gavin reached her bed, “Wake,” he whispered.
Sage bowed again, her eyes flying open. Her hands clenched her bedding. A moan escaped her lips and she shuddered as she inhaled.
The fire in her room banked, leaving only glowing embers in the hearth.
She gasped, looking up into Symon’s eyes. Her body relaxed slightly, and she squeezed her eyes closed, rolling over into the fetal position.
“You remember, now, don’t you?” Symon asked in a whisper.
Soft padding footsteps told Symon that Aryael was making her way to the room. Gavin looked from Sage to Symon and back again as Sage nodded in confirmation. Gavin placed his arm around her waist, shifting so he could make eye contact with her.
She inhaled, letting loose a soft sob, then whispered, “King Symon. I think you should gather the others. There’s a lot to explain.”
Aryael had just entered the room. Symon and his Queen looked at each other. She remembers. Aryael’s hand went to her mouth. Empathetic grief creased his wife’s eyes. “I’ll get the others.”
“It’s nearly sunrise,” the King said to Sage and Gavin. “We will meet in my private study in an hour. It will give us enough time to gather everyone and enough time for you to make yourself ready.” Symon softly removed his hand from Sage’s head before, looking at Gavin, whose eyes brimmed with worry. “One hour,” Symon whispered.
Then he and Aryael left the pair behind, aiming for Raphael’s private quarters.
✧✦✧
Gavin sat with Sage for several minutes, letting her cry, and piece herself back together.
“It’s ok, I’m here for you,” Gavin said, stroking her hair as she curled tighter and tighter into a ball. He wanted so badly to scoop her up and cradle her.
She sobbed harder.
Shit. What had she seen? What happened to her? His chest felt like it would be split in two at the sight of her so frail.
Sage’s eyes cracked open, and she looked into his eyes. “Gavin, what I’m going to tell you all…What I’ve done. Gavin, I can’t bear it,” and she sobbed again.
He couldn’t stop himself then, he wrapped her into his arms, laying his forehead on the side of her face. “Sage, whatever you did, you did it and survived. I won’t hold that against you.”
“You will,” she said, recoiling. “Gavin,” she shook her head, “Gavin, it’s so awful.”
“I promise,” he said, cupping her face with both hands, forcing her to look into his eyes, “I promise nothing you tell me will make me balk. You forget, everyone here has had to do questionable things to survive.”
She stared into his eyes, he stared right back. Finally, she softly closed her eyes, blinking free the tears clinging to her eyelashes, and nodded. “Ok…ok,” she sighed.
He wrapped her into a soft hug, and they began the process of getting ready for the meeting with the King, Queen, and their courts.
Forty-five minutes later, Sage and Gavin were striding toward the open doors of Symon’s study. The cream, burgundy, and charcoal room seemed to have been tidied from the night’s fun. It was a stark indication of how the mood had changed.
Symon was waiting for them outside the room.
Sage dared to grab Symon’s elbow before the King could walk through the doors. “Symon…I know you have certain abilities…to…show things, see things…mental power,” Sage stammered.
Symon placed a hand on hers, still holding his elbow. Gavin was surprised by the tenderness in that touch. He often forgot how aware Symon was of his peoples’ trauma, he supposed it’d be no different with Sage.
“What I’m trying to ask,” she continued, not daring to look at Symon in the face, “is whether it’d be possible for you to see my memories, and simultaneously show them?” Sage looked then at Symon as if realizing how ludicrous her idea—her request— really was.
Symon considered her for a moment, then nodded. “Yes, I think that would work. I have many questions myself that I think would be best answered if I could see your story as well as hear it.”
With that, Symon grabbed Sage’s hand and ushered her into the study like a long-lost best friend.
Scattered about the room, in various postures of tense anticipation, were Meliza, Zeke, Petra, Aryael, Suda, Acantha, Epyllo, and Raphael. Aryael locked the door, giving them complete privacy.
Gavin was surprised to find not a single of the older fae leaders, even more surprised to find the spies included in the event, but strode to a vacant divan, Sage sitting next to him.
“Thank you all for being here. I think it’s important for us all to witness Sage’s story. We’ve come up with a unique plan, so we might all have the pertinent information together,” Symon explained. Aryael arrived by his side. “Are you ready, Sage?” the King asked. She nodded her agreement.
Sage sat upright, the King placing his hands on both of her temples. Flashes of light filled the room. Symon closed his eyes, and the room was transformed.
The room was filled with the illusion of a field, two girls running through it. It was Sage, and the other girl was her sister. Then they were watching as Sage used her powers on a young boy, most likely while at school. The image flashed again, and they watched and listened as Sage’s mother explained the danger she would face as an elemental.
The pictures, places, and sounds flashed as Sage and Symon showed the synopsis of her life, up until she was trapped in that van. Aryael gasped as the wall of asphalt surged to the sky, forcing the van to collide into it. Gavin forced himself not to grit his teeth as he watched Sage run for years and years, then find love with Ian. By the time Ms. Dullahan had captured Sage again, he felt like he might throw up.
How had she endured this?
“Cerridos,” whispered Raphael as they witnessed Sage being blessed—chosen by the gods. They watched as Sage trekked her way across Thuledain, hunting down the insignias. When she’d faced the Wulver, the soft panting coming from Sage nearly brought Gavin to his knees.
A sob escaped her as they witnessed Ian—the one she had loved—brutally executed. Acantha let out a startled cry at the scene, and goosebumps erupted across Gavin’s flesh.
He watched, mouth agape, as she ran from the machines the government had sent to track her, watched as the gods themselves defended her so she could escape.
“TupaGuara,” she had said over and over.
Finally, with the last image of her grabbing the insignias and vanishing from the President’s clutches, Sage slumped over her knees, wrenching herself free of Symon.
The room seemed too bright, too cheerful after what they’d witnessed. Gavin’s throat was dry. He blinked to clear his vision of what he’d seen, now painful in the harsh light of day. Symon and Raphael shared a look of trepidation, and Gavin wondered how much of the story they had already learned, and how. Aryael gazed at Sage, and Gavin’s questions of what and who knew about Sage’s journey grew. Discomfort and anger warred within him, and a feeling of foreboding pulsed through the room.
Sage wept softly as everyone else reacclimated to reality.
Gavin’s throat was raw as Aryael said, soft as death, “That was Rankor.”
Symon nodded, looking at Acantha and Epyllo.
“He’s been here,” Epyllo confirmed. “That was the version of Rankor we saw when we went to investigate the Speridisian movements at the border of Nysa.”
“And you didn’t think to warn the Nysan Senate?” asked Suda with a glare, rising to his feet.
