Anathema - The Song of Eloh Saga, Book 2 (11 page)

“Did you blame me?” he asked. Mark did not
turn to me, instead he stared straight ahead. I glanced at his
profile.

“Partly.”
“And the other part?”

“I blamed myself.”

His hand dropped mine. His eyes no longer
stared ahead, but instead bore into mine as he grabbed my chin and
turned my face towards his.

“Yourself? Me? And what of Ivy? Do you blame
her?”

I didn’t struggle against his hand under my
chin, just as I didn’t struggle with my answer.

“She had feelings for you. I knew and I
ignored it.”

His hand dropped to his side but I didn’t
turn away.

“I knew I was beginning to have feelings for
you, Mark. I should have been more careful. Ivy liked you
first.”

“Ivy held no claim over me,” he said softly.
“You, on the other hand, you claimed me from the moment I first saw
you.”

Glad of the darkness that hid my blushing
cheeks, I grabbed Mark’s hand again.

“I don’t want to talk about Ivy tonight.
I’ve spent too much time thinking about her and what I could have
done differently. Tonight is mine to enjoy.”

“Yes,” Mark smiled. “Yes it is.”

He guided me in silence for a few more
minutes. Along the road we passed other travelers. Most nodded a
head in our direction, a few smiled knowingly at our entwined
hands. None of them could see the color of my eyes.

Even before I saw the sign for the tavern
swinging atop the doorway, I knew we had reached our destination.
The noise pulsed from inside and broke free every time a reveler
passed through the doorway. I couldn’t believe I was about to enter
my first tavern and sit among free people. I knew I would treasure
this night forever.

The smell of mead overwhelmed me as we
pushed through the wooden door. Mark pulled me over to an empty
table near the corner, away from the fire. I worried at first that
we might be cold, but the humid atmosphere leaking off the bodies
packed into the tavern kept us warmer than I’d imagined.

A juggler sat in the corner, tossing
everything from balls to pins. When the innkeeper’s wife wasn’t
looking, he grabbed three mugs and tossed them in the air. Much to
the delight of the onlookers he didn’t drop one. Yet when she
turned around and saw her precious property flipping about she
screamed, “You put those down gently now. Do that again and you’ll
have to find yourself another tavern!”

He winked at his audience as he set them
down, one by one, on the bar. Men hooted with laughter and women
stamped their feet on the floor in approval. I laughed, as I’d
never laughed before, feeding off the energy of the other patrons.
I noticed Mark didn’t even glance at the performer, he simply
watched me. Too happy to feel embarrassed by such obvious
attention, I flashed him a big smile.

“Thank you,” I mouthed at him. He smiled and
dipped his head towards me. I couldn’t have been happier seeing how
my people lived and how they laughed in their free time. After
years of slavery I didn’t realize that somewhere outside my little
world people were allowed such simple freedoms.

I opened my mouth to ask Mark a question
about the juggler when the door burst open and four heavily armed
guards marched in the tavern. I hid my hands under the table and
glanced away to the fire. My heart beat so hard I was afraid it
would leap out of my chest and give me away. Mark’s hand grabbed
mine under the table.

“Citizens of Keree, for weeks we have been
looking for a missing slave, one our master will not cease
searching for. To ensure your cooperation in finding her, he has
issued a proclamation. If she is not found by his wedding day,
seven days from now, he will begin executing petty criminals,
including men from this town.”

My gasp joined that of the patrons around
me. How could Kandek do this? Execute men who’d stolen bread or
poached deer from his land to feed their families to force someone
to turn me in. My stomach twirled like a trapped snake.

“If she is returned, your family members
will be set free the day of his wedding as a goodwill gesture
towards his loyal subjects.”

I held back the tears that threatened to
burst forth. Mark squeezed my hand so hard I feared the bones might
break, but I sat still not wanting to give myself away. I glanced
around at the other people in the tavern, trying to gauge their
reactions. I saw the joy on the faces of men whose brothers would
be released, but I also saw fear. They knew without finding me
their loved ones might be in jeopardy for crimes that normally
carried only a fine or a sentence of thirty days in prison.

Now they faced death simply because Kandek
could not let me go.

Chapter Twelve

The party atmosphere dissipated when the
guards left. Mark tugged my hand and we blended in with the other
villagers heading for the door. Their reactions ranged from anger
at Kandek’s blackmail to worry for their families. They whispered
about how unfair it was that they were being held accountable for
the actions a girl they didn’t even know. It broke my heart to be
among them so visible, yet hidden, knowing that I was the cause of
their concerns.

Once we were away from the crowd and headed
back to Johna’s cottage, Mark put his arm around my shoulder.

“Don’t let it get to you,” he whispered in
my ear.

I glanced around, most of the people were
having their own conversations and were oblivious to the two of
us.

“How can I not be upset? This is my
fault.”

“It’s Kandek’s fault.”

We walked in silence, arriving at the
cottage moments later. I walked in the door and made eye contact
with Johna, who was still hard at work grinding herbs.

“What’s the matter child?” She wiped her
hands on her apron and scurried over to me. I flung my cloak on a
nearby hook and sank to the bench.

“Kandek’s going to kill petty criminals if
Reychel isn’t turned in within the week. He’s getting married and
used his wedding as a deadline,” Mark said, placing a hand on my
shoulder.

“
Oh no,” Johna cried. “What
is it about you that he needs so? You must figure out what makes
you so valuable. Think, child, think. What happened during your
time with him?”

“Nothing,” I said, balling up my hands.
“I’ve thought about it over and over but I still have no idea.”

“Ivy said you had private audiences with
him. What happened during those meetings?” Mark asked.

“He would ask me to tell stories; that’s
all. There was nothing special other than those were the only times
I was allowed to look out the windows. He kept me confined
otherwise,” I said.

“Why weren’t you allowed outside except in
his presence?” Johna asked.

“I don’t know,” I insisted, pushing my hands
on the wooden table as if a secret panel would appear and give me
answers. I received nothing more than a painful sliver in my palm.
“I never understood it.”

Johna sank to the bench across from me,
resting her hands on the table to steady herself. She stared at the
table taking steady breaths. A sharp gasp from her mouth startled
me to attention. Johna lifted her eyes to mine, gazing
intently.

“Great Eloh. Could it be true? I never put
it all together,” she muttered. “It’s beginning to make sense
now.”

She stared into my eyes. “May I read you,
child?”

“Read me?” I asked. “Use your gift to hear
what I’m thinking?”

“It’s more complicated than that and only
partially related to my gift. I’m going to merge my thoughts with
yours. It will allow me to search your memory for anything you may
have forgotten but still remains.”

“Is this something any gifted person can
do?” I was still amazed at the range of abilities.

“Not all, but some. I am not the most
powerful, but I have been known to find nuggets of truth otherwise
hidden from the person who bears them.”

“Of course,” I said. “I trust you.”

I sat next to Johna on the bench staring
deeply into my mentor’s eyes. If Johna could find anything in there
that I didn’t know, then I was more than welcome to let her sort
through my mind.

Johna gripped my hands and stared into my
eyes. A few moments passed before she slowly pulled away, staring
at me in horror.

“I never suspected,” she said. “I should
have, everything considered, but I didn’t. Oh Eloh, how could I
have missed this?”

“What?” Mark and I asked in unison. Anxiety
rose from my stomach to my chest.

“You are the Prophet. The one we have been
waiting for,” she said, shaking.

I laughed, pulling my hands away from hers.
“That’s absurd. I don’t even have any gifts.”

Johna stumbled away from the table and
grabbed a book from a nearby shelf. She leafed through the pages as
I tried to steady myself. Of all the ridiculous things I’d ever
heard. To be told I was the Prophet. It was ridiculous. Insane.
Unbelievable. Me?

“Remember the story I told you and Ivy?
About the man who made the prophecy? He had rare gifts that no one
has shown until now. Until you. He too could read the clouds.” She
closed the book, leaving a finger to hold her place. Her eyes found
mine. “That is what you do, isn’t it?”

“I,” I stuttered, “I like to tell stories,
that’s all. I don’t interpret shapes like little children.”

“No, you most certainly do not,” Johna said.
“It makes sense. He wouldn’t let you outside. He only allowed you
to see out the windows in his presence when he asked you to tell
him stories. You were prophesying.”

“I was not. I just let myself get carried
away in my stories,” I insisted.

“What did you tell stories about?” Mark
asked, his eyes wide.

“I don’t know. Kings and queens, nobles,
pretty much anything that popped into my head.”

“What do you know about royalty?” he asked.
“Did you ever experience any of it outside your master’s
castle?”

“No,” I said. “I made it all up. It’s called
imagination. If I’m a prophet, why hasn’t anything happened while
I’ve been here?”

“You’ve been shut up in the house,” Johna
said. “Kept away once again from the outdoors.”

“I can look through a knothole in the
shutters.”

“A person can’t talk well if someone has
their hand around her throat,” Johna said.

“What?” I giggled. This was becoming more
ridiculous by the minute.

“You’re only seeing but a tiny slice of the
sky. It’s not enough. Let’s go to the back room,” she said,
grabbing my hand.

Mark and I followed an excited Johna across
the cottage.

Johna pushed open the door, strode across
the room, and threw open the shutters. The dappled sunlight
streamed in as the clouds floated over the moonlit night sky.

“What do you see, Reychel?” Johna asked.

“The sky. Clouds. Moonlight.”

I gasped as the clouds caught my attention.
I slipped to the bed, my mouth wide open. Visions passed through my
mind of people I’d never seen before going about their daily lives.
A quick flash gave way to a woman arguing with a merchant over a
basket of wormy apples. A third vision showed a blonde woman from
the back raising her hands towards a man cowering in a corner, his
face hidden by her arm. I closed my eyes and the visions
disappeared.

“In my mind,” I whispered. “I can see
people, but if I look away from the clouds it slips away.”

“You are the next Cloud Reader,” Johna said,
a smile growing on her face. “You are the one we’ve been waiting
for. Our Prophet.”

She reached down into her dress, pulling out
the chain she wore around her neck. I’d noticed the chain before
but never seen what hung from it. As she drew it out my eyes
widened in recognition. The coin. The same as the one left for Ivy
and the one left in my place.

“By your expression, I see you’ve seen this
before,” Johna said, laying the coin in her palm. I nodded,
reaching into my pocket and withdrawing the coin left for Ivy.
Every day since leaving the castle I looked at the coin to see if
the baby responded to me. I hadn’t told anyone, Ivy included, what
happened that first morning. Babies on coins don’t wink or wave but
part of me wondered if what I had seen was true.

I held Ivy’s coin in my hand, with the baby
side up just like Johna.

“That’s you,” she simply said, nodding at
the coin.

“The baby is me? Is that why it blew me a
kiss?” I had to ask.

“It moved for you?” Johna said. “I’d heard
that it would move for the Prophet, but I never believed it.
Thought that part of the mythology of the Prophet was just that – a
myth. But yes, that’s a representation of you, not an actual
portrait. This coin has been our secret symbol for seven
generations.”

I glanced back at the coin. Johna laughed as
the baby gurgled and reached out its arms. I smiled at the baby, I
mean at me, at the coin. One more wondrous thing. I looked at Mark
who stared at the coin with his mouth open.

“Can’t believe that’s true. I’ll have to
show it to Nemison,” Johna said. “With your permission, of course
Reychel.”

“Who?” Mark asked.

“Just a gifted friend,” she said. Johna
flipped the coin over to the other side and I followed suit.

“Anathema?” Mark said, reading over my
shoulder. “Doesn’t that mean to curse something?”

“That is does, my boy,” Johna said. “At
least it does today. A long time ago, before the Malborn invaded,
anathema had another meaning.”

I released my breath, afraid for a moment
that Johna would tell me I was cursed because of my gift.

“It means an offering to Eloh. Reychel here
is our offering,

our savior, the Prophet.”

Chapter Thirteen

“The story that landed me in the dungeon,” I
whispered. “It was true.”

I looked up at Johna and Mark.

“When was this?” Johna asked.

“My birthday,” I said. “The master invited
me to his chambers to talk. It was rather pleasant, really, like
the other times. He even offered me a balm to help the pain from
the branding. But then he opened the shutters, my eyes were drawn
to the clouds, and a story poured out of me. One that told of my
escape. It was at that moment he had the guards put me in the
dungeon.”