Chapter 34 #2
I shifted to the side, certain I was going to be sick. My stomach churned violently, every movement sending a searing wave of agony pulsating through my head. With a stifled groan, I fought the urge to heave, taking short, sharp breaths through gritted teeth.
Footsteps sounded outside, and I curled myself into a ball, trying to appear as small as possible.
Through narrow slits, I watched as Valerian inserted a large metal key into the lock.
The harsh grating noise of the worn tumblers screeched through the chamber, and the thick iron door groaned in protest when she pushed it open, the hinges eliciting a tortured squeal.
There were a few items at her feet, and she retrieved them before stepping in, leaving the door gaping open behind her. When she moved closer, I could see her face. It was bruised, though not as swollen as it had been.
“I’m sorry,” I gasped out.
“What for?” she responded tersely.
“For your face. You warned me.”
I thought I saw surprise flicker for a moment before it was wiped away. “What happens between Vaeyl and me is none of your concern,” she said sharply.
“Valerian.” I waited until I could see her looking at me. “You don’t need to act like this with me. I can be your friend if you let me.”
I saw her indecision. The struggle in her eyes before that pretty mask slipped back into place. “I’m here to clean you up.”
“Why bother? Won’t it be more of the same tomorrow?
” I said despairingly. My voice sounded strange, even to my own ears.
Nasal and congested. I struggled upwards, leaning back against the cold wall.
The weight of the collar still pressing against my neck was a cruel reminder of my captivity.
The metallic clang of the chain echoed loudly around the cell.
“Not if you give in and concede to him, it won’t,” she said.
“I could never do that. Will never do it,” I vowed.
“Why?” She sounded genuinely interested.
“Because I have a man who loves me, and I him, and he will come for me. I just need to hold on until he gets here. Plus, my brother will come. I’m certain.”
“You have a brother?” she asked curiously.
“Aenan, my twin. I can feel him here.” I touched my chest. “Along with Caelan. We are soul bonded. Though I have not been able to reach them since I left home.” I murmured the last part more to myself than her.
“What’s a soul bond?”
I was surprised she didn’t know, and the flicker of astonishment must have appeared on my face, because she was quick to explain.
“I’m only told what they want me to know, what they deem important. Nothing more.” Her expression revealed a mix of frustration and resignation. It was clear she longed for more but lacked the ability to do anything about it.
I told her as much as I knew. I told her all about my twin bond with Aenan and how it allowed us to speak mind to mind.
How annoying the sound of his voice was sometimes when he invaded my thoughts.
I told her about him having to stand in the rain when I couldn’t control my own thought projections, and she quietly laughed at my description.
“I think I would like your brother,” she said softly.
I told her all about Caelan and my love for him. How he could speak to me not only through our bond but through my dreams. Across realms. That was how strong our bond was. She looked at me in awe.
“I haven’t been able to feel them, though – either of them.
Not since the first night I left home. At first I thought it was a distance thing.
But now… I’m certain it is not. It’s as if my bonds are broken,” I whispered.
“I know they are still there. I can sense them, but they are small and dark. Plus, I haven’t had a dream, either. Not since I was taken.”
I shared how I had come to be in Caeldonia.
How Caelan was the one I had been swapped with, and how, when I had found out, the guilt had nearly crushed me.
I told her about our soul bond and how I had been the one to initiate it.
I shared all my fears. All my concerns and doubts. I shared everything.
My thoughts of Caelan and Aenan threatened to drown me in a sea of sorrow, so with a conscious effort to shift my focus, I asked Valerian a question instead. “Tell me about you. What is it you wish for?”
She shifted uncomfortably, her eyes bouncing between mine. She looked as if she wasn’t sure what to say. As if she wasn’t sure she wanted to reveal her innermost desires. Then, as if the walls had ears, she leant forward and whispered, “I want to see the Human Realm. To see where I came from.”
I vowed to myself that if I got out of there, I would help her achieve that dream.
“Shall I tell you about it?” I asked. She nodded. “What would you like to know?”
“Everything,” she breathed. “What it’s like. Is it good or bad? Is the food the same? The sky, the air, the water? Everything!”
“It isn’t much different from here, really.” Her face fell, so I hurried on. “Except, well, modern.”
“What does that mean?”
“We have electricity and internet and technology.” I realised she had no idea what I was talking about.
“Like magick?”
“Not really… maybe. Sort of. Yes,” I finally answered. “Let me try to explain.”
The task of bridging the gap between our realms was daunting, but I tried to paint a vivid picture of the marvels of my former home.
Peeling back the layers of time, I started with what I knew about the eighteen hundreds.
Mostly gained from watching television shows.
Then moved forward, giving her glimpses of the advancements that had been made. The ones that shaped the modern world.
I spoke about the introduction of electricity, and how it illuminated the cities.
I described cars as shiny steel beasts that could move across vast expanses of land with unparalleled speed.
And planes, as magnificent birds made of metal and glass that soared through the heavens, defying gravity itself.
I honestly didn’t know how they worked, so nodded when she whispered “magick” again.
I walked her through the bustling streets of England, which I once called home, and the rugged landscapes of Scotland, where I had embarked on my journey through the Mystwoods.
I regaled her with tales of movies and cinemas.
Theatres and stage shows. I painted pictures with my words of towering skyscrapers, buildings that pierced the clouds, and introduced her to the ever changing fashion of women’s clothing.
Bikinis and swimsuits. Brassieres and retreating hemlines.
But when it came to the internet, I faltered.
I struggled to articulate exactly what it was, settling instead for a simple explanation.
Its ability to unite people from across continents and oceans.
I explained the way it connected everyone and everything on the planet.
I could see she didn’t understand, but her eyes widened in wonder anyway.
When I was done, my voice husky from use, she helped me to drink some water.
“Thank you for sharing with me. I feel like I can almost see it,” she whispered, her voice strangely melancholic.
As she turned to pack her belongings, a noise sounded in the hall and her head snapped up, looking in that direction. But there was no movement that I could see. Nothing but the black shadows on the walls, seemingly the only witness to our conversation.