Chapter 5
Amelia followed him into the hall, passing the long tables that lined either side of the room. Light streamed through a large window at the back, making her squint. It silhouetted a man seated upon a throne raised high on a dais, overlooking the room.
Who was that?
As they drew closer, she saw that both his hair and eyes shone silver.
The colouring made him appear old, yet he held himself with the ease of youth.
It was hard to guess his age. The throne, carved from the same stone as the walls, was the room’s only decoration.
It was carved with patterns and shapes that reminded her of those she’d seen on the mountain. Were they related?
“This is her?” he asked, rising from his throne as they approached.
“Yes,” the dark-haired fae replied.
“You had trouble finding her, Casyl?” he said mockingly.
Casyl. Amelia repeated the name silently. The dark-haired fae now had a name. She looked between them. They had the same delicate features, although Casyl’s hair was dark while the king’s was pale. They could be related.
“We didn’t expect her to go into the forest,” he said through gritted teeth. He turned to Amelia. “This is King Tiryn of the Wildlands.”
The king studied her. “You’ve had quite the adventure in our land, yet we know so little of how you came to be here. Eleandor told us a little of what he’d seen in your memories.”
“Eleandor?” she asked, confused. The sage was here? She had assumed he’d been injured alongside Vesryn and the others when she was captured.
The king looked past her. Amelia turned as Eleandor stepped from the shadows.
He had been taking her to see the High King. Surely this wasn’t the king he had meant.
“He brings us news of impending doom.” He laughed. “His foresight is so revered in the Holy Court, yet they couldn’t take him at his word. So, he brought you to me, as I’m one of the few people in the land who could believe him,” the king continued.
Eleandor frowned at the king. “They have no other sages. It is difficult for them to take me at my word when memories can be mistaken or read incorrectly,” he hissed.
“Yet you sent us word—your enemies—and we’re supposed to trust that you have no ulterior motive? That this isn’t a trap?” Casyl said.
“I have no enemies and no king. It’s for the greater good of our people, your people. That’s what we serve, whether or not you can see that.”
“Enough!” the king roared over them. “Let us see for ourselves.”
He walked over to Amelia and gripped the sides of her head before she could move.
A burning sensation spread through her skull, like the one Eleandor had caused.
She fought the sensation, thrashing against his grip, but darkness took over.
Her vision faded, and she fell to her knees.
A warm hand settled on her shoulder, steadying her.
The warm grasp anchored her to consciousness.
The intrusion seemed endless. She felt him sifting through her memories. When he had finished, he released her, and she slumped forward. Casyl caught her by the shoulders and lifted her onto a nearby chair.
The king looked down at Amelia, his jaw clenched. The cold fury in his expression turned her blood to ice.
“She resisted,” he said through clenched teeth.
“What did you see?” Casyl turned to the king. “Is Eleandor right?”
The king nodded.
Eleandor knelt beside Amelia. “I’ve seen glimpses of your world.”
“How?”
“Energy has memory.”
He spoke as though seeing a memory meant understanding it. Amelia knew from handling ancient fragments that evidence could mislead when separated from its context.
He looked towards the king, who nodded his permission for him to continue.
“You… your kind… you don’t know the extent of what you’ve done.”
“What have we done?” she asked Eleandor.
“In your memories, I saw humans digging deep into the earth for Lifesource and exhausting it.”
“Lifesource?”
“You call it something else. It’s a clear mineral of the earth that has an ice-blue shimmer.”
“Chrysonium. That’s our name for it,” Amelia replied.
“It isn’t yours. It belongs to us,” the king said, his voice close to a snarl.
“It belongs to the earth,” Eleandor said quietly, glancing at the king. “You’ve felt the consequences. The earth quaking beneath us.”
“They’re happening here too?”
He remained silent.
“I don’t understand. How would that affect you?”
*
Casyl led her back to her room. They walked through the long corridors lined with small sconces.
Her room was on the first floor this time, and she was now constantly guarded. Escape was impossible, and even if she did, she wouldn’t know where to run. The world outside was just as terrifying.
They reached her room. The guards stood aside as they entered.
“What are you going to do with me?” she asked Casyl.
He walked over to her, holding her gaze. She stood firm before him.
His eyes ignited, and without warning, he pressed his fingers to her temple. The pain pierced her skull, milder than before, but it still made her flinch.
It stopped.
When she opened her eyes, curiosity had replaced his confusion.
“Interesting.” He held her chin in his hand, turning her head, studying her from different angles. “You can block.”
“I can block what?” she asked.
“The first time you did it, I wasn’t sure what had happened, and then I saw you do it to my father—and again just now. I’ve never seen it before. You’re a Voider.”
“But I’m human. We don’t have powers.”
“You do.”
*
The next morning, Casyl strolled into her cell with two men. She’d only just woken.
“This is Tharos.” He pointed at the stern blond fae from the beach. “And this is Ruven.” She remembered his mischievous wink.
Tharos merely looked at her whilst Ruven bowed, his mouth curving at one corner.
“I’m sorry to do this before breakfast,” Casyl apologised.
“Do what?” Amelia asked, sitting up sharply.
He nodded at Tharos, who stepped forward. He extended one hand towards Amelia. She recoiled, waiting for the pain she was sure he would inflict.
The pain didn’t land, but a strange sensation swept over her like a wave, clouding her thoughts.
For a moment, Amelia could not remember where she was. She tried to focus.
The feeling stopped.
“What did you do?” she asked him.
“What did she do?” Tharos ignored her, turning to Casyl instead.
“His power scrambles thoughts,” Casyl said.
Ruven cleared his throat, earning an eye roll from Tharos.
“But what did she do just then?” Tharos asked again, louder.
“You felt what she did.”
“My power waned and then just… stopped.”
“She stopped it.”
“She’s a Voider?” Tharos asked. He looked Amelia up and down. He’d gone from looking at her with scorn to disbelief. She preferred the second one.
“You’re going to train her. You both are,” Casyl informed them.
Tharos and Ruven gaped at him.
“Why would we do that?” Tharos asked.
“She could be useful, and she may need to defend herself from people other than us,” Casyl said.
Amelia wondered at that. They had all those powers, and she was just a human.
“No,” Tharos said, folding his arms across his chest.
“What do you mean, no?” Casyl said, his voice going dangerously low.
Tharos stepped back at his tone but continued. “This isn’t right,” he said. “She’s a round-ear, a human.”
He’d said it as if it were a curse. His hostility confused Amelia. Why would he have something against humans? What reason could he have?
“Are you disobeying a direct command?” Casyl demanded.
Tharos paused. The atmosphere in the room had become tense.
Amelia kept still, not wanting to draw any attention. She was already uncomfortable.
Tharos shook his head and stormed from the room. His anger still simmered in the air.
Casyl turned to Ruven. “Do you have any problems with this?”
Ruven raised an eyebrow. “Not at all. When do we begin?”
“What if I have a problem with this?” Amelia asked, standing up.
They both spun around to face her, as if they’d forgotten her existence.
“That’s not really a problem,” Casyl replied.
She should have a choice.
Ruven’s eyebrows rose.
“So, you’re going to train me to use my power. Power that allows me to block yours. What’s stopping me from using it against you?” she asked.
He moved so quickly that she barely had time to register his movement. In one fluid motion, he knocked her to the floor, pinned her wrists above her head with one hand and held a knife at her throat with the other.
His body pressed against hers. Her pulse throbbed beneath his grip.
“You can block my powers,” he whispered into her ear. “But I don’t always need them.”
He released her and rose, sliding his dagger back into its sheath. He looked at Ruven. “Start with self-defence.” He walked out of the room.
*
The morning air was chilly, but Amelia was dripping with sweat. Ruven had begun teaching her how to defend herself. They stood in the fortress’s courtyard. The tall walls were oppressive, but the small, windowless room had been worse.
The walls showed signs of erosion, the stone darkened in patches. Moss and plants had begun to grow, clinging to shaded cracks in the wall. It was the only natural life that she could see in this barren place.
They gave her new clothes to replace the torn, dirty garments she’d been wearing, and new leather boots that laced up her calves.
They had struggled to find clothes in her size because the fae were larger in stature, so they had resorted to using juvenile garments.
The padded leather jerkin clung tightly to her body.
Ruven assured her it would soften any impact.
She adopted the defensive stance Ruven had shown her, her fists raised.
Her breath came fast and hard, clouding the air in front of her. She was fit, but fighting was something new to her, and her muscles weren’t used to it.
“Okay, let’s see what you’ve got,” Ruven said. He swung a fist towards her head, his movements slowed by her ability. He now probably only had the strength and speed of an ordinary fae. She instinctively dodged, kept her fists high and aimed a punch at him.
“Not bad, but not good either.” He laughed.
They spent the morning practising blocks and proper footwork. At one point, she noticed Casyl observing them from a distance. She licked the sweat from her dry lips.
Ruven was a good partner. He was a little quiet, but she could always see the hint of mischief dancing in his eyes, and her early attempts at fighting had clearly amused him.
He looked up at the sun. “Tharos will be along soon for your next lesson. Let’s take a break.”
“What will he be teaching me?” Amelia asked, glad for the rest. Tharos had a way of making every mistake feel like it was being permanently noted.
He spoke to her only if necessary and barely acknowledged her existence. The only reason he was teaching her was that he’d been ordered to.
“You need to learn to control your power against different abilities, and Tharos’s mental abilities are strong,” he said. “I’m giving you a physical workout.” He winked at her.
“Stronger than Casyl’s?” she asked, ignoring his joke.
“No, Casyl is different.” He shifted uncomfortably, not elaborating any further. Whenever she asked about Casyl, Ruven tensed, as though discussing him were forbidden.
In fact, any time she asked a question that made them uncomfortable, they ignored her, hoping she wouldn’t ask again.
She still didn’t fully understand why they were teaching her to fight or why they’d taken her.
Whatever conflict they expected, she would be safer if she knew how to defend herself.
She felt like an eolith, a broken stone used as a tool.
Footsteps sounded on the packed earth behind her. She turned to face Tharos. She’d not seen him since he’d stormed out of her room.
“Shall we begin?” Tharos asked impatiently. He circled around to stand directly in front of her.
Mist clouded her thoughts, as though her own mind were hiding something from her. She blinked rapidly, struggling to form a thought as the tingling spread across her shoulders and the backs of her arms.
“What’s my name?” he asked.
Her mind emptied. His face was familiar, but his name slipped beyond her reach. She squeezed her eyes shut and concentrated. “Tharos,” she said.
“Good. Now let’s make it harder. Ruven is going to continue his lesson. Block his attack whilst you resist my power.”
Ruven took it easy on her, but she still ended up covered in bruises. The lesson ended when Casyl walked over.
“Enough,” he said. He turned to Tharos and Ruven. “Leave us.”
“We’ll continue tomorrow,” Ruven said to her, and he and Tharos nodded at Casyl and left.
“You’re a fast learner,” Casyl said.
“Ruven’s a good teacher,” she replied. Was he actually giving her a compliment?
“And Tharos?”
Her silence answered him.
“Show me what you’ve learnt,” he commanded.
When they were alone, he held out a wooden dagger to her, hilt first.
“What is this?” Amelia asked. “Is this your idea of an apology for holding a dagger to my throat?”
“No.” He placed the dagger into her hand. “It is my attempt to ensure that no one does it to you again.”