8. Chapter 7
Chapter 7
“ Y ou are coming back? Does this mean that you found him?” Mary asked me.
“I have some information,” I spoke into the phone as I stared at the hotel room ceiling. The past month had been a nightmare: being away, coming up nearly empty-handed, until I came into contact with the Terran group that I had been searching for.
It was quite strange how after the first few days in the hospital, I had to basically force the cops to allow Emma to describe the man who was with her that night, so that a sketch artist could draw his image. Good thing I did, as it was all I had to go off of in my search.
The Terran group had been much larger than I thought it would be. Glasson had been contacting them for years. Glasson, of course, had many contacts with many Terran colonies. There was an entire system, which he had set up, for Terrans to communicate with each other and to find those Terrans that others were looking for. Prince Shad was a part of the whole system, but I avoided close connections to him.
It was a small town, as the population sign indicated. It was made up of a couple thousand, but when that number was entirely made of Terrans? It was a very powerful town, and in some ways, very dangerous. I drove to the heart of the town, down an old worn road. I worried that if I went into another pothole, I would pop a tire on the old truck I drove. Luckily, the main town area was better maintained. I couldn’t help but wonder if the rough road was kept in such a condition to ward off people. Subtle, but effective for some travelers, I was sure. I drove down the quiet streets of the town. The buildings looked like they had been there for quite a while, as if frozen in time: back to the 1950’s, but everything was well-maintained. Nothing seemed Terran at all, but one thing stood out above everything else, I realized, as I parked near the post office: the melodies. They were so calming, as they swarmed around me, that I closed my eyes at their sounds. It had been so long, too long, since I had heard so many of my people together. It was more than beautiful; it was breathtaking, and I found myself lost in it for a moment.
“Can I help you, sir?” someone asked, and I opened my eyes. I saw a man before me, with dark brown eyes and white hair. He looked old, about seventy or so in this realms years, but for a Terran, he could be anywhere from seventy to over two-hundred years, or cycles, old for all I knew.
“Yes, I’m looking for the leader of your colony.”
He stood up taller, and I took a moment to unshield my soul, just enough to show him who I was. I watched as he bowed his head in the customary way that a commoner would to honor a guardian knight of my rank.
“We are honored to have you here, Rykerian Dallard.” Like usual my name was incredibly useful.
“I need help. It seems that someone is trying to injure the person I am protecting. Have you heard anything about any of Prince Tarick’s men from Haleston living here?”
“I wouldn't know, knight; however, I can find the boss for you.”
“The boss?”
“We found it easier when people come by to use the terms from this realm as much as possible. The boss is a knight, also.” I nodded and followed him as he showed me to a large business building. I waited for a few moments in a lobby of sorts before someone came into the room. His melody wasn't pure. I took note of the black, corrupt parts of it before he shielded them from me. I will have to keep my guard up with him, I thought.
“A Dallard?” he asked, as I stood. I nodded, and he and I bowed in the pattern of proper respect of our people, and for my family. I couldn't read him, couldn't sense his melody, so I did not know from where he hailed.
“It’s great to meet you—I’m in search of information.”
“Yes, this is what Will said.” He cleared his throat and walked with me into a room, no doubt some kind of office for an important person at one point. He motioned for me to sit, and I did, in a leather back chair in front of a massive wooden desk. He quickly moved around the desk to sit behind it. The room had papers and folders spread across the floor, as if they were laid out in haste.
“Yes, sorry for the mess,” he cleared his throat. “I am Rian. We are glad to help you. What do you seek?”
“I’m looking for someone. Have you noticed any soulless in the general area—or have you heard of any?” It was my gut feeling that the man from the sketch was soulless. The sketch, in my opinion, though in black and white, showed proof of it; he had soulless, black eyes. I imagined that the idea of the culprit being a soulless would bring me some peace—but why, I thought, was a soulless doing such things? And why was he still alive? Everyone knew that you could not live long without a soul.
“There is one man who comes through here to recruit people to work for his mining company. He has been through here three times now, and each time, he can't tell us what happened to his old recruits—he says it’s confidential.” He held his hands in front of him on his desk, and I noticed the injuries to his knuckles, small bruises, and scabs. “He always promises us that all who go with him will have their identities protected. Some of our people really want that—after being banished here to this realm.” He took a drink from a glass cup on his desk. It was then when I noticed that the walls of the room were stocked high and low with books—books not only on every single shelf, but also covering large spaces on the floor. Rian looked up at me, his brown eyes heavy with worry, it seemed. His scruffy beard barely covered his jaw and chin, his thick brown hair fell over his forehead, and he moved it aside.
“I spoke with him directly the last time he was here. I always thought he was human, but he said something to me that made me think that he might be soulless, but it astounds me how he could be one when he has survived for so long?”
“Who is he?”
“I don't have a name. I only know that he isn't welcome here anymore.” I watched as he cracked his knuckles. I looked again at his bruised hands.
I dug through my bag and looked for the sketch. Other than that one cop, Emma was the only other person to have seen him. I found the picture and held it up.
“This him?” I asked, staring into his eyes and listening to his melody, trying to pick up on any lies that he might try to shield.
“That's him alright,” he nodded and looked down at his glass cup.
I nodded back, and I silently congratulated myself and put the paper back into my bag, getting ready to ask my next question. “Do you happen to have a seeker's crystal?”
The conversation wasn’t fruitless, but they didn’t have a crystal. I said my goodbyes and thank-yous and drove back to the hotel room. I wished I had been able to get more information, but what I got was solid intel.
As soon as I walked into my hotel room, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I shut the hotel door and sat on the bed; then I answered the call. Mary got right to her point as soon as I said, “hello.”
“Prince Shad is here. As far as I have seen, he has stayed away from Emma, but his melody is strong, Ryker.” I heard Mary’s concerned voice, and it pulled me away from my deep thoughts about the Terran colony I had just visited.
I cursed. “Mary, how long has he been there?”
“He moved in, literally across the street, three weeks ago.”
“And you are just now telling me this?” I growled as I shoved my clothing and other useless items into my carry-on bag. I needed to leave, and I needed to leave right away.
“It is hard to get in touch with you in order to tell you anything, Ryker. Calm down. His melody, Ryker—it’s so powerful; it reminds me of Emma’s.”
I felt sick, “What do I care about his melody?”
“He just—he doesn’t seem like the horrible prince that you've made him out to be, and how could he be that bad when his melody is so strong? I don’t think he shields any part of it. There’s no corruption at all in his melody.”
I rolled my eyes. Of course, his melody would be perfect. “He’s horrible. Do you know how many people rave and talk about him on Terra? He’s like the most well-known heir, and it was only because of his soul,” I answered, thinking to myself that he was horrible because he wanted Emma for himself, because he wanted to create some fairytale life with her. He was horrible. Shad irritated me by simply breathing.
“Well, that’s what happens on Terra. I don’t know why that would surprise me. That is why people could come for Emma’s soul if it is left unshielded. You need to unshield your soul, Ryker. Emma is very drawn to him, and I see why. It’s not just his melody being strong. She is much happier since he has been around, and her melody—the corruption, it’s—it’s gone.” She paused for a moment. “When was the last time you unshielded your soul entirely? Let it really be free?”
“Mary, I cannot. You know why. Please, just stop. I am not able to break my vows. I will unshield it when the time is right, just as Lamont required of me.” I threw a shirt at my bag and walked away from the foot of the bed to lean against the wall. “I have to keep her safe, Mary, safe from any and all threats. I can’t have a target on us both. I have to focus only on her. If I let my melody out, I would be signaling who-knows-who to come for us. There are many Terrans who hate my family. Not all Terrans who are here were banished here for illegitimate reasons.” The phone felt heavy in my hands as I spoke. I gripped it so hard that my hand shook slightly.
“I know, Ryker."
I moved my face from against the wall and looked at the room around me. I wanted to unshield my soul. It was a lot of work to keep one's soul shielded. Mine was no exception. I thought of what would happen if I did, and quickly decided that it wasn't a good thing to focus on. It would tempt me too much. I thought about Shad’s melody and then Emma’s. If the prophecy was true, then Emma would be more like her real self than ever before, simply because Shad was just across the street. I hated that thought—so very, very much.
“Shad cannot know,” I said.
“Cannot know what?”
“He cannot know who Emma is.”
“She has a melody, Ryker. What else would he assume? Do you think he will believe that she is something other than Terran?”
“Please, Mary. He just can’t know about Lamont, about her being the princess. Let him suspect all he wants, but I want it to remain a secret that Emma is an heir. He believes in songs, for ancient’s sakes— actual songs, Mary, so he may even believe that she could be from this realm. I wouldn't put it past him to believe in the impossible. He already does.”
“I don't know why you don't believe in songs. All our people were built around them. We are from them.”
“Yes, and then the ancients took them away.”
“Rykerian, we don't know that, and if that was the case, maybe they are coming back.”
She sounded so hopeful, and I didn’t have it in me to crush her. I knew it was a fairytale, a dream, not real, but I didn’t need to convince her of that. She had to already know. I must have been silent for too long because she spoke again, changing the subject,
“I haven’t spoken to him, and I don’t plan on it.”
“Good, I just need time.”
“Come home, Ryker. Emma is doing better, but she still needs you. You are her best friend.”
“I will. I just packed my bags. I will book my flight tonight.”
"Good."
My flight landed in Sacramento late that night. I texted Mary that I was back and threw my carry on bag in the back seat of my truck. It would be nice to no longer have a rental. I opened the door and sat down inside. Frustration flooded through me. I was back, and although I wasn't completely empty-handed, I didn't feel that much closer to figuring things out. I started the engine as my phone chimed a new message from Mary, confirming that she had received mine.
I missed everything—how easy things used to be. I missed Terra.
I missed–no, do not go there. I shut the lid on that box quickly. But not before–
Ana whispered through me.
I shook my head. I missed Lamont and Ara. I even missed the simple way things were before Emma’s melody was unleashed. She had become so much more difficult to keep safe because Mary and I had to work so hard to shield her soul, something we were barely able to do. I missed the snow covered mountains of Haleston. Missed the life I once had.
But, I missed Torren, too, I missed the cool water of the beaches, the sand, the bright sky, the treasures found on the seashore. I banged my head against my headrest as feelings and emotions ran through me. Memories blasted into my brain at laser speed, and I tried to reign them in. Those memories were always in that box, tucked away in my mind, the box with cobwebs and dust on the outside. I never touched that box—not anymore—not for over sixteen years.
Ana
Grey eyes haunted me as I sat there. I closed my eyes and tried to pull the memories back inside the box where they belonged so that they could not haunt me anymore. They slipped back out anyway, and I saw in my mind, that still body and that dark, black-brown hair. They were the first things I had noticed, on that bright day I had been patrolling around Torren as part of my knight training. I was worried because she had no melody—that was a sign of death. But when I came closer, my feet moving slowly on the clear pebbled sand, I watched as her eyes opened, revealing clear, silver-grey eyes, not the eyes of a soulless. Life flashed before me; I stood frozen, looking at her. How could she not have a melody?
I tugged at my hair, begging myself to stop reflecting, begging myself to end the pain. The drive home was torture as I fought the inward battle, raging a war inside of me. The memories I had locked up sixteen years earlier tried to float onto center stage in my mind, over and over, but I pulled them back—shoved them in the once-beloved box and locked it tight. I needed to focus. I knew my task; I knew my vows and promises, and I would not break them. I did not want to break them, no matter what was inside the blasted box.