Alive (The Veiled World Book 1) (10 page)

At first I thought it was rhetorical, but he slammed his fist against the table again, making his goblet jump.

“No one cares to guess?”

Kyle hesitantly put a hand in the air.

“Yes, my friend, what do you think?”

“To stop people from bringing the dead back from their resting place.” He looked around the table and shrugged. “Maybe the dead are supposed to stay dead. Maybe it was just their time.”

Kyle had lost his grandparents, so I understood why he’d want to let them rest. But my brother was young and had a full life ahead of him. Death had robbed him of that chance.

The king laughed, as though Kyle had said something amusing. He shook his head. “No. You are wrong. The dead are
trapped
in the Land of Resting Souls by a cruel woman who keeps them from us. Her name is Leirza. She does everything in her power to keep us away from those whom we love.”

I thought of Sam and shook my head, not wanting to believe he was being kept by a cruel woman.

“The shifting landscapes, otherwise known as the
Change
, however, are not created by Leirza. No, we have documentation from those who have crossed and returned that tells us the changing landscapes are, in fact, different versions of the resting souls’ afterlife. Because there are so many souls, there are many, many versions of heaven out there.” He raised a hand and pointed to us each in turn. “Know this. Not all heavens are clouds and cherubs or pearly gates. You will all face danger. You will.” He nodded, his blue eyes turning dark. “And some of you will die.”

A deep silence followed until I cleared my throat.

“If the changing landscapes are a result of the many versions of heaven, why would the dead chose to spend eternity in terrible, dangerous places? Wouldn’t they choose somewhere safe that they love?”

“Good, courageous question!” He glared at the others. “When I say heaven, I use the world loosely. Not everyone is satisfied when they die. Their souls do not always rest, despite how peaceful the Land of Resting Souls sounds. Therefore if somebody has died unhappy or with unfinished business, he may choose the world which best suits his needs. Face his fears for example. If he died at the jaws of a lion, then perhaps he may choose to relive the moment. If he died in flames, then perhaps he rests on a bed of flames for eternity.”

My brother’s face, surrounded by fire, appeared in my mind and I hoped and prayed that the king was wrong, that my brother would never choose to relive his painful death.

“Will we come across our loved ones out there?” I asked, my voice hoarse.

“No. They are never found walking around. Their souls are kept by Leirza. They roam in their afterlife, yes, but as only a ghostly version. A version that you cannot see with human eyes.”

I hated the idea of my brother roaming around invisibly, trapped in his own version of heaven. But if it was true, I wondered what place or memory he had chosen to dwell in. Part of me expected to enter the Veiled World and come across our farm, but then Sam had always complained of wanting to leave Red Gum behind to live on the coast. He hated the farm and was hardly ever helpful to Mum or Dad. Most of the farm jobs were left up to me. No. He’d definitely choose to live by the beach.

“Has any group ever returned to the castle together? Alive and well?” Reece asked.

“No. But you, my friends, are young, and I can see you being the first group to have success and bring home all your loved ones, and my queen.”

Ollie smirked and shook his head. His father glared at him and I could see Axel’s face become red with rage by the looks of his clenched fists.

Axel cleared his throat. “Tell them the truth about the souls. They have a right to know, sir.”

The king banged his fist against the table once again. Ollie stood up and glared at Axel. “How dare you speak up to my father!” he declared with a hand on his bony hip.

Axel’s face turned even redder. “Excuse me, sir, but I feel they should know the truth.”

“There is no other truth except that which I have spoken. Be gone from the ballroom.”

“Salt him, Father.”

The king ignored his son and stared hard at Axel, who stood his ground, his broad shoulders tense.

“Leave now without a word or you will be salted.”

“If you don’t tell them, then I will,” said Axel, his voice low and gravelly.

“Guards.” The king sighed, as though suddenly very tired. “Salt him and put him in the dungeons.” The king pointed a trembling finger at Axel. “And, boy, if you ever speak of this again, you will never,
ever
, see your little brother again.”

Chapter 10

Axel

I shrugged Gerald’s hands off me and walked myself out the door.

The king was a liar.

But that last threat…perhaps it meant he was thinking of letting me join the group as a challenger. But that was possible only if one from the group decided not to go. The only group number to have ever been successful, and twice for that matter, was a group of nine. Even though only one from each group of nine had returned with their loved one.

Someone dropping out was my only hope. The girls—the other two, not Amber—or perhaps one of the boys could possibly weaken with fear and pull out. Especially when they learned they must face the Choosing Ceremony tomorrow. I had to hope for that.

The guards led me down the familiarly dark, dank corridors to the salting room, just above the dungeons.

My body started shaking from the pain I was soon to experience. Nothing was going to plan. Why would the king not tell this group the truth? That whoever was lucky enough to reach the Land of Resting Souls would only have the opportunity to bring back two souls—their own loved one and the soul of the king’s dead wife, even if all nine made it there alive. He always told challengers the truth. Why not this time? Was he afraid because they were young? That perhaps they would decide not to seek their dead loved ones if their chances were so narrow? No one had yet to turn down the offer of their dead loved one’s return.

Nothing would ever change
my
mind. I knew the implications and I intended to be the one to bring back my brother. A vision of Amber on the aeroplane filled my head, of her head hanging down, her golden hair over her face when she’d revealed that her brother had died. Something told me she wasn’t going to back down. That she wanted this as much as I. That would eventually be a problem. In the end, if we got through to the Land of Resting Souls, it would be a very big problem indeed.

But I wanted her with me on the journey, for selfish and perhaps personal reasons. This I knew. But she had a right to know. There would be nothing worse than the group, once arriving at the Land of Resting Souls, finding out that only one soul was returning.

But, if the historical documents are true, eight won’t survive the journey there anyhow
.

The last thought made me sick. I was just as bad as the king, thinking only of myself and my brother.

“Kneel!” A firm hand pressed down on my shoulders until I was forced to my knees. The ground was as cold as ice despite the warmer temperatures upstairs and the general climate outside. The salting room was completely encased in stone, and therefore had no warmth. But I liked to think it remained cold because of the cruelty that went on in here.

“Unbutton your shirt!”

The trembling in my fingers annoyed me. I didn’t want the guards to have satisfaction in knowing that I feared the pain of the salting. So I ripped at my shirt instead, sending buttons pinging against the walls and floor.

Cool air pricked my skin.

I leaned forward, resting my knuckles against the ground. This made sure the guards wouldn’t harm my neck like they had done in the past. While waiting for the first blow, my thoughts returned to the king’s speech and a sudden flash of inspiration filled my head. I would tell one of the new challengers. I’d tell them the truth and when they knew that not all of them could bring their loved ones back, they would have to back out. Then I’d be chosen. The king would
have
to choose me.

The king strongly believed in the nine challenger principle. One challenger each for the nine heavens leading to the Land of Resting Souls. The only two known survivors of the quest had each mentioned the nine heavens, though one of the two accidentally wrote hell in place of heaven twice. Back then the queen hadn’t yet passed, so these individuals, one a man and the other a woman, had each brought back a soul of their own choosing.

A sudden cold chill shuddered its way down my spine. The guards laughed.

“Ready?”

I clenched my already made fists and tightened my shoulders, my eyes squeezed shut.

Think of Amber’s legs, think of Amber’s legs, think of Amber’s legs…
wait a minute…what?

“Stop!”

The blow never came. I opened my eyes and turned my head to see who had spoken and there they were.

Amber’s. Magnificent. Legs.

Except now I had a much better view than I’d had of them in the ballroom.

“What are you doing to him?” she asked.

“King’s orders,” the guard said.

Before I could prepare myself, the first strike of the barbed, salt encrusted stick pierced my right side. It burned. Oh, how it burned. There must have been a thousand or more tiny barbs on the stick.

I gritted my teeth and groaned. The air in my lungs felt like it’d been punched out of me.

Next came the sting of the salt, like a thousand tiny blades hacking at my bleeding flesh.

“No! Stop!” she cried.

Two more blows followed, each with more force than its predecessor. The girl’s presence was making the guards angrier.

“Go away!” I shouted to her, ashamed that she’d seen me like this, cringing and waiting for the next blow. But the next blow didn’t come.

I twisted my neck and saw Amber holding tight to the man’s wrist. He was straining to wrench himself out of her grip. The girl was taller than the guard and despite the pain I was experiencing, I smiled, enjoying the look on the guard’s face until the other drew his sword and pointed the tip at Amber’s neck.

I chose that moment to leap to my feet. Amber cast her gaze my way, and ever so briefly allowed it to travel down my bare chest before returning to the guard she was holding hostage, not the one with the sword at her throat. This girl was fearless. And I was perhaps falling in love at first sight.

“Stop beating him or I will go and tell the king that I will refuse to bring his wife back.”

The guards shared a look, one that set me at immediate ease. I very carefully tilted the sword tip away from the girl’s neck and smiled.

“Looks like you two had better run along before the king hears about this.” I caught her eye and winked to show I wasn’t making fun of her. “Look at how strong she is; it doesn’t take a genius to know this girl has the strength of five men put together. She is the only one in that group out there who has the best chance of bringing the queen home. The king said so himself.”

Gerald yanked his hand back out of Amber’s now loosened grip.

“The king will hear of this,” he said, narrowing his gaze at me. My heart strangely softened. There was sweat on the old man’s face. Gerald and the other man shouldn’t have to be guards at this age. They should both be relaxing with their elderly wives, enjoying their golden years.

Amber motioned with her head to the doorway, and after scooping my shirt off the ground and slipping it very carefully over my shoulders, I followed her up the stairs, past several levels until we reached her room.

“Come inside,” she said. “I’ll have a look at your injuries.”

I raised a brow and peeked into her room. I’d never been allowed into female quarters. The room felt too pretty for the likes of me.

Amber seemed to take my hesitation as an offense, for her cheeks reddened slightly.

“I’m only going to clean your back. The old woman can do it for you if you prefer. I’m seriously tired and need some time for everything I just heard at the dinner table to sink in.” She took a step back and ran her fingers through her cropped hair. “The king just dismissed us now. Said we need to get some rest for the Choosing Ceremony tomorrow.”

I took a quick step in, realising Amber was not the type to offer twice. She was caring, definitely, but closed off too. I’d noticed in the ballroom that she failed to interact with the others as they had with each other. Except for perhaps Jacob. I shook their secret smile from my head, because it was causing a strange discomfort in my stomach, and nodded at Amber.

“I can tell you about the Choosing Ceremony while I’m here if you’d like.”

“Deal.” She poked her head out into the hallway and shut the door behind us, then folded her arms just under her breasts and stared at me for a while, her blue eyes expecting something, until I realised she wanted me to take my shirt off. Wincing, I carefully inched it off my back—parts of it had already stuck to the crusting wounds—then tossed it to the floor.

“Where do you want me?”

“Just sit there, over by the window.”

I did as I was told and sat on the day bed by the window. It was pitch black outside. I recalled hearing my mother tell my grandfather’s tales about the stars in the Unveiled World.

“They must look spectacular,” I said aloud, not meaning to, and Amber gave me a blank stare before following my eyes and gasping after half a minute or so of staring out at the blackness.

“No stars.”

I nodded. “I’ve never seen one.” I half smiled at her. “Are they as beautiful as my grandfather deemed them to be? He told my mother, when she was a little girl, that when the stars shone above you, even at the darkest of times there was hope.”

Amber’s eyes widened, then turned dark and shiny, as though she was about to cry. She pressed her palms against the glass pane for a brief moment and then turned to busy herself with a nearby basin of water.

“Yes.” She cleared the frog from her throat. “They are beautiful.”

I continued to look out the window, imagining shining lights in the sky, imagining the return of my little brother, imagining the look on my mother’s face when she laid eyes on his sweet face again. While I did this, the reflection in the glass showed Amber filling the basin with water from a ceramic jug beside her bed. She dipped a cloth into the water, a handkerchief by the looks of it, before wringing it out in her strong hands and coming at me from behind. I winced in preparation, not bothering to tell her that I healed better when the blood was left to crust over my wounds. I was here now, there was no sense in denying her urge to assist me. For selfish reasons I needed her on my side, and for pure curiosity, and loneliness—a fire-breathing dragon does not a good friend make—I also wanted to
know
her.

She dabbed at my deepest cut first, the very last wound I’d earned, and I winced, sucked in a deep breath, and mentally spewed a thousand filthy curse words at once. The water was dissolving the salt, allowing it to seep into my open skin more easily.

“Sorry,” she said, wincing, then went about dabbing and wiping at my cuts.

“Some of these wounds are crusted over already. And there are more than three.”

I winced as she dabbed at one of the older cuts. “That’s because…” I stifled a groan, “…I was salted a day before you came.”

She said nothing more and continued until the basin was filled with a pinkish, red-tinted water. I could smell my own tinny blood and wondered why this girl wasn’t fainting on the spot the way Ollie seemed to do whenever he saw blood, especially his own. But then again, she was the girl who had only just rescued me from several more beatings with the salting stick. I’d never had a female hero before.

“Can you explain the Choosing Ceremony? Do we need to partner up?”

Her hand rested against my bare, unwounded shoulder and the touch was so feather-light and gentle, it took my breath away. I sucked in a deep breath and, to my embarrassment, released a soft moan. So this was how it felt to be touched on bare skin by a woman.

As I expected, she quickly removed her hand.

My skin tingled where it had been. And not from the salt. I wanted that hand back.

“So…the Choosing Ceremony?” she asked while drying my back ever so carefully with gentle dabs of a dry, soft cloth.

I shook my head free of my dreamy thoughts. What was happening to me? Here I was aching for this stranger’s touch against my skin, and thinking about her long, long legs that went for miles, and of those blue eyes that flickered away whenever I caught them in my gaze. I shook my head. This was so unlike me. Normally I was focused. Focused only on reaching the Land of Resting Souls.
That
was my life. Not beautiful long legs and golden hair and…
here I go again.

“The Choosing Ceremony is about partnering up.” I snuck a sideways glance at the girl and noticed a blush spring to her cheeks. My stomach fluttered. Perhaps she was thinking of me.

No.
Concentrate
.

I stared down across the endless darkness through the window and narrowed my thoughts down to the ceremony.

“Not with another human, but with an animal. A dodaem—your animal spirit.”

My beautiful emerald dragon danced before me against the black velvet night sky, setting the darkness alight with her fire. She would be mine tomorrow. I just knew it. Even though I had not yet been selected as a challenger.

“What kind of animals?”