Torn: Bound Trilogy Book Two (20 page)

C
assia hitched
her pack higher on her shoulders and squinted into the sun. “So where exactly are we supposed to be going?”

Overnight, I’d explained to them about my mother and my sister, news that surprised them as much as it had me, though not with as great an effect. We’d set off early in the morning, and for now they were happy to accompany me wherever I needed to go.

“I’m not exactly sure,” I said. “According to my uncle, the village Ulric sent them to is called Trint. It’s west of the lake, though I’m not sure I trust the map.” My uncle had disagreed with it on a number of points and had marked several corrections in his own province. He was less able to help with Cressia. “I suppose we look for signs of humans and ask them for directions.” I rubbed the back of my neck, which became tense every time I thought about the search for my newly discovered family, and what I’d do if I found them alive.

“And if we find your mother?” Cassia asked.

“Then we find out whether my father came this way and keep searching. I very much doubt he’s still here after three years.”

“That’s it?” Cassia coughed, and stumbled. I caught her around the waist before she hit the ground, and she leaned into me. “Thanks. So you’re hoping to find your mother, who you haven’t seen for twenty years, and the twin sister you’ve just learned about…and you’re going to say hello, and that’s it?”

I waited for her to re-gain her balance, and kept walking. “I don’t know, Cass. I have no idea how this is supposed to work. Are you all right?”

“Fine. It’s just the air. It’s rather dry, and we’ve been up here so long. I need a swim.”

Kel frowned, but said nothing.

We didn’t pass any signs of human habitation that afternoon. Far-off mountains to the north guided our journey westward, their unchanging forms making it feel like we were hardly making progress. The landscape didn’t help, with all of it looking the same after a while. Grass, shrubs, an occasional clump of trees huddled together against the wind, ponds in the hollows, and rocks everywhere.

I was examining a set of massive claw-marks carved deep into the bark of a bare trunk when Kel grabbed me and Cassia by the arms and pulled us into the shelter of a patch of trees. Seconds later a huge, dagger-shaped shadow swept across the ground, bending and warping with the rises in the land, circling around and passing over us several times before continuing toward the mountains.

My heart raced even after it had disappeared. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Kel said. “Just keep your eyes open. I’m sure he’s not the only one around.”

We walked through the day, asking questions about each other’s journeys as they came to mind, but mostly in silence. Cassia had decided not to take her natural form the night before, so she went to swim in a small lake that we stopped at well before sunset. Kel and I sat on the shore, watching for trouble. I sharpened the hunting knife my uncle had given me on a stone Cassia had in her bag.

“So, what’s going on?” he asked.

“I think I’ve told you everything.”

“No.” He shook his head. “You’ve told me the things that have happened. I want to know why you’re not acting like yourself. Last time we saw you, you were going through a bad time. You thought you’d lost everything and expected to die soon, and you still seemed happier than you do now. I wouldn’t have said you were happy then, mind you, but compared to this you were dancing on rainbows.”

That made me smile. “Is it that bad?”

“Nearly. Is it because Rowan’s not here?”

“No,” I said, honestly. “I miss her. I wish she wasn’t so far away, and that I could go back and see her, but I’d rather have her there. She needs to learn more, and I need to be out here. Time apart might be good for us, anyway.”

“Hmm. I can see that,” he said. “There’s been a lot of—” he laced the fingers of both hands together. “
This
lately, I suppose? Not much time to figure stuff out on your own?”

I clasped my own hands together. “Not as much of
this
as I’d have liked.”

Kel chuckled. “Sorry to hear it.”

“You must think I’m terribly weak, needing her like this.” Merfolk didn’t usually form attachments as we did, though on the rare occasions when they did, it was for life. Most of them had friends, and gods knew they had lovers, but not the damnably complex thing I was still trying to figure out with Rowan.

“You think that, not me,” he said. “I don’t understand it, but I’d like to some day. So what are you so melancholy about, if not her? You’re on track for finding your father, or at least you have more of a chance now than you thought you had before. You just found out that he didn’t kill your mother, which must be a relief for you. You have a sister, if she still lives.” He looked out over the water, and a gray tail flipped out of the water, followed a moment later by Cassia’s head as she somersaulted to the surface. “It’s not so bad having one, I guess.”

“I doubt a sister of mine would be anything like Cassia.”

Cassia turned toward us when she heard her name, and Kel waved her off.

She delivered an impressive view of the top half of her body as she raised her arms over her head and arched her back to dive under again. I smiled to myself and looked away.

“So what, then?” Kel asked. “Why so morose? We’re worried about you. You seem to be a different person every time we meet you.”

“Maybe that’s it,” I said. “Tell me who I am right now.”

Kel rose and walked a few steps toward the lake, shielding his eyes against the sun that reflected off of the water. “Damned if I know.”

“You should.” Merfolk were known as excellent judges of character, and for good reason. “What do you see in me now?”

He walked back toward me. “Look at me.” He looked into my eyes for a minute, squinting slightly, expression unchanging. It should have been uncomfortable, but we’d been friends for long enough that it didn’t bother me.

“I don’t know,” he said, “and neither do you. You’re confused. Everything inside of you down to your core is in turmoil. You’re lacking something that in the past has been critical to you.”

“What?”

“Confidence,” Cassia said. Kel and I both looked up. She stood before us, already dressed in damp clothes that stuck to her skin, wringing the water out of her thick hair. “And purpose. You should have asked me. I saw that as soon as Aren started talking about himself last night. Also, I caught a fish just now, if you’re hungry.” She sat cross-legged on the ground in front of us and noticed our stares. “What?”

I fought the urge to grab her and hug her again. She was an odd person at times, but extremely likable. “It’s nothing,” I said. “I think you’re right, that’s all. But now might not be the best time to go into all of that.”

“I think maybe it is,” Cassia said. “Kel, go get some firewood?”

“What did your last slave die of?” he muttered, but he went off into the woods, leaving us to talk.

“I noticed it before, the last time we saw you,” Cassia said quietly, regarding me with her sea-colored eyes. “Even when we met you as a child, when you were in your brothers’ shadow and your father ignored you, there was still this confidence in what you were. You knew you would grow up to be as powerful as your father, and you had this amazing drive to prove everyone wrong for overlooking you. When you came back to tell us you wouldn’t be coming to the lake anymore, you’d changed, but all of that was still there. Maybe more so, because your hatred for Severn sharpened your sense of purpose.”

I’d nearly forgotten how I’d hated him then. Over time I’d forced the emotion deep inside of myself, unfelt and unacknowledged. I’d ended up working with him instead of against him.

“It was different when you and Rowan came to the Grotto,” she continued. “Kel told me that when you were at the lake house, you were single-minded, determined to keep Rowan safe and help her with her problem. But when I saw you, when you were safe and there was nothing for you to protect her from—”

“And when there was absolutely nothing I could do to help her with the binding.”

Cassia nodded. “Exactly. You were lost. Less composed than I’d ever seen you. Like you didn’t know what you were supposed to be doing.”

“I didn’t. I still don’t.”

There might have been no one else in the world I could have talked to about it. Even though I knew Kel was as unlikely to judge me as his sister was, I opened up more to her. “Cass, I don’t know what’s happening. I’m supposed to be looking for my father, and I am, but I don’t know what I’m going to say to him if I find him, or whether I even want him to come back. I met this monk who made me think that prying into people’s minds and changing them was dark magic and I shouldn’t use it. I’ve poured so much of my life into learning how to do that.”

“You know our thoughts on that,” Cassia murmured.

The merfolk had never approved of that skill. If I had returned to the lake to visit after I learned it, they’d have turned me away. It was only because of Rowan that they’d allowed me back the last time, and then only with strict warnings about not using my talents.

“That,” I said, “and dead-raising.”

Cassia’s eyes went wide at that. There are some things that even a mer doesn’t see when she looks into a person’s heart. “You don’t, do you?”

“No. But I can. And I have, without practice or study.”

“That’s...”

“I know.” We sat in silence for several minutes.

“Well,” Cassia said, “do you think that’s part of the problem? Your magic has been who you are for most of your life. The Aren I know would never let someone else’s opinion of his gifts affect him like this, which makes me think that maybe you were having the same thoughts, and this fellow merely confirmed them for you.”

I winced. I’d nearly forgotten how the mers’ insights could sting. “Do you think he’s right?”

She held her hands out, open but empty. “I’m not going to say that he was wrong. If you think there’s enough truth in what he said that it’s tearing you apart, then it’s something you shouldn’t ignore. Even if you never did either of those things again, it wouldn’t diminish your power. You would have fewer developed skills available, but that would only be until you’ve picked up something else to channel your magic into. What I think more than anything is that you let your power define you, and you might need to let go of that. You’re more than your magic, Aren. It’s a tool, it’s not who you are.”

“Then who am I? If I’m not a member of the ruling family of Tyrea, if I’ve let go of some of my greatest powers, if I can’t claim to have a home anywhere, and I’ve lost everything I once owned, what’s left?”

It said something about my state of mind that I didn’t hear Kel approaching. “Are any of those things the reason Rowan loves you?”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.

“I’ll tell you, then,” he said, and dumped a pile of dry wood on the rocks. “It’s not for your magic, whether it’s dark or light. It’s certainly not because you’re a good person. No offense.”

“None taken.” At best I was moving toward becoming a neutral person.

“Actually,” he said thoughtfully, “I don’t know what she sees in you.”

Cassia grinned. “I do.” Kel rolled his eyes, and she laughed. “Really, though. She sees your potential, Aren. You’re intelligent. You’re loyal--that’s why it was so hard for you to defy your brother. You care about her, and about the people of your country. If you didn’t, you’d be content to let Severn have his throne. You’d be on your way across the sea, out of his reach. You aspire to be something better than what you are, even if you have no idea how you’re going to do that.” She glared at her brother. “
That
is what she sees in him.”

“I knew that.” Kel set up wood for the fire, which I lit after a few attempts. “Well, that’s new," he said. "Easier than a wet flint, isn’t it?”

I frowned at the pathetic flames, then offered a wry smile to Kel. “It’s really the thing that I’m most proud of learning over all these years.”

Kel laughed. It was comforting to be surrounded by happy people, even if I didn’t feel it myself.

“This is not the end for you,” Cassia concluded. “You’re having a hard time right now because you’re letting go of a lot of things. You’ll find your way.”

“Thanks, Cass.”

She shrugged. “I do what I can. What would you say to scouting ahead before we lose the light?”

It sounded like a fine idea to me. I went and transformed, something I was still sure I could do without hurting anyone. I flew over the land, looking for signs of people or dragons, enjoying the evening breeze ruffling my feathers. When I spotted dark spots on the ground over the next hill, I flew toward it.

A jumble of buildings set in a rough square pattern around an open space came into view. A proper village, and more than we’d seen before. I wheeled before anyone saw me and went back toward my friends.

I
sat
on my bed and picked a string of tough, overcooked beef from between my teeth. I’d have complained about it, but that was the only bit of meat I’d found in the bowl of thin soup the sour-faced guard had dropped off for supper. That, a few slices of stale bread, and water in tin cups made for a sad meal, but one I finished quickly.

My churning thoughts hadn’t allowed me to sleep much the previous night. I was exhausted, and ravenous.

My cellmate ate more slowly, sipping elegantly from his bowl, taking small bites of bread as he sat on the stool he’d once again brought out from his corner. I supposed it made sense to take one’s time over things here. There wasn’t much entertainment provided.

At least the headache was gone, though my mind still felt sluggish, like every thought had to be pried out of thick, sticky mud. My companion had asked me about my past and how I came to be arrested, and I’d given the barest skeletons of answers, telling him about the trouble with controlling my magic and about Callum’s betrayal, but nothing about Aren or Belleisle. I’d asked him a few questions and got nothing in return.

“Tell me more of this binding,” he said.

“It’s been on me since I was a baby. I don’t remember it happening. It was effective enough that I didn’t know I had magic in me, but it gave me terrible headaches all my life.”

“And how was it broken?”

I opened my mouth to answer, and hesitated. Trusting people had earned me nothing but pain recently. For all I knew, this man could have been planted in the cell to draw my confession out. He could be a captive, as he’d said, but trading my story for his freedom. He wouldn’t learn anything important from me.

“Someone convinced me of my magic,” I said. “I was in danger. The magic broke free and saved me.”

He sat still as a stone, empty bowl resting on his knee, apparently deep in thought. “And it didn’t kill you. Interesting. You said you’ve had some trouble controlling it?”

I nodded. I’d said that much, though no more.

He moved then, though only to lean forward and fix his gaze more firmly on me. “It’s a horrible thing that was done to you. I saw the effects of bindings when I was young. Terrible.” A devious smile touched his lips. “But I think your luck may be turning, my young friend.”

“You still haven’t told me your name.”

“Nor have you told me yours,” he pointed out, and set his bowl on the floor. “It’s hardly relevant. Listen carefully. I want you to use magic.”

“What? But you said the walls—”

His smile softened. “Please. It’s only a theory, something I’ve been thinking about since you mentioned bindings yesterday.”

“Please explain first.” I wasn’t about to risk harm to myself just so he could get some excitement.

“Very well.” He stood and paced as he spoke. “Think of this. Your magic matured with you, but was trapped within you. It was reared in secret. In darkness. Oppression. It’s free now, but uncontrollable. Do you see?”

I almost did. “You think the walls are like a binding? But outside of me?”

He crouched, and his expression became animated for the first time. “It works well enough on those whose magic has never been bound. I cannot use magic in here. But yours may have adapted.”

I thought that through as he waited, tapping his heel on the floor. “You’re saying my magic is like…like a person who was raised in a cave with no light. It became accustomed to the darkness, but never escaped it. Not until a few months ago.”

He nodded. “Go on.”

My magic tingled through my limbs as though excited by the idea. “And when a person like that was exposed to the light, it would be overwhelming, but a little darkness would help her adjust.” Hadn’t Griselda suggested something similar? Contain it a little, and practice. The idea had frightened me at the time. Now, I had nothing to lose.

He seemed pleased that I understood. “Try it. Please.”

I laughed nervously, unsure of how else to react. It seemed a risk if I thought he was trying to trap me into a confession. But then, I was already in prison. After the letters I’d sent to Callum, how much deeper could I really dig that hole? And if there might be a chance I could help us escape, I had to try.

“If you insist,” I said. “What shall I try?”

“What can you do?”

“Nothing. I thought I told you that.”

He frowned. “You said you had trouble controlling it. That’s not the same as not being able to do anything.”

“I’m sor—” I squared my shoulders.
I’m not sorry.
“It’s complicated. I’m figuring it out. Will you help me?”

He pursed his lips and nodded. “Very well. Try to direct your magic at me.”

I stepped away from the walls and raised my hands, unsure of how else to do it.
Go,
I told the magic.
Just not too much.
I gasped as it welled up in me, and I sensed the resistance of the walls that contained it. They seemed to be responding, fighting back. My magic gave a push of its own, filling me, but it felt smaller than it had at the school. Weaker. The lamplight flickered, and the already chilled air grew icy as I pushed to release it.

Too much
. Panic wrapped cold hands around my heart.
You’ll kill someone.

Before I had a chance to form another thought, I instinctively clamped down, dampening the magic as effectively as any binding could have.

The old man sighed. “It was there.”

“I know.”

He tapped a finger against his chin and forced a hard smile. “We’ll try again.”

Something in his tone caught my attention. “Where in Darmid are you from?” I asked. “Your accent is strange to me.” He’d been trying to cover it up, to speak like the guards he’d been around the past few years, but I’d just caught the hint of something foreign, yet familiar. My mouth went dry. “You’re not from Darmid at all, are you?”

“No,” he whispered. “You don’t get many Sorcerers like me around here, do you? Call me a political prisoner.”

“How long did you say you’ve been here?”

“Too long.” He sat on his stool again, and his shoulders slumped. “Tyrea. I’m from Tyrea.” It sounded like he was testing the feel of the word on his tongue, as though he hadn’t spoken it in ages. “Tell me, have you heard news from there?”

I tried to decide what I could tell without giving myself away. “Well, Severn is—I don’t know what he’s calling himself, but he’s in charge, and is collecting magical talent from everywhere, taking people to Luid and I think building an army.”

My companion rubbed a hand over his chin. “Any other news from the royal family?”

“Yes...” My skin prickled. I knew who he was. Impossible that I should have been the one to find him, but I had no doubt. I’d have seen it sooner, had my mind not been so groggy.

It seemed I should feel more frightened than I did, after everything I’d been told about Ulric. Aren’s father. “News about your other sons, you mean?”

His hand dropped from his face. He nodded. “Have you heard anything of them?”

“You might say that. I’ve spent some time with Aren in the past few months.” I bit my lip to distract me from the memory of him. “He’s the one who saw my magic, who convinced me to try to escape the binding.”

A faint smile touched Ulric’s lips. “I see.”

I thought he did see, perhaps more than I wanted him to. “Severn was planning to use me for something. He tried to capture us, and that’s when the binding broke.”

He folded his hands in his lap. “I’d heard from another prisoner that there had been trouble between them. Just a rumor, really. No one here seems to know anything about Tyrea. This falling out was over you?”

“In part. I think Aren was ready to get away from your family, anyway. Dealing with me just forced him to move.”

Ulric, the rightful king of Tyrea, settled back into the chair. “I’m well aware of the mess I left behind. I’ve made mistakes, I won’t deny it. When did you say you last saw Aren?”

“A few weeks ago. A little more, maybe. How did you get here? How did the Darmish capture you?”

He shrugged, as though such a massive event meant little to him. “I trusted the wrong people.” He seemed to be attempting to pierce me with his dark gaze. “And my other sons?”

“I don’t know. Aren didn’t really talk about them.”

He nodded. “Well, thank you for sharing what you know.”

Could this truly be the father Aren had spoken of as a cold, hard, uncaring man? The man who’d had his innocent wife executed, who had allowed his youngest child to be turned into a heartless killer by his oldest, not caring at all about what happened to Aren as long as his family remained in power? He seemed a bit stiff to me, intimidating at first, but not at all the monster I would have expected. This couldn’t be the same man. And yet the longer I looked, the more I saw it. The sharp gaze, the predatory focus when something caught his attention, even the line of his jaw were all familiar to me. His youngest son had inherited all of it.

I’d found a powerful ally, or a powerful enemy, depending on how I approached this. And given that we were both prisoners…

“I’m sorry you’ve been trapped here.” I chose my words carefully. “I think your country has missed you.”

He smiled sadly. “But not everyone. Aren told you about me, I suppose?”

I didn’t return the smile. “He did.”

“I’d like to see him again. And the others. I made—”

“Mistakes, I know. You said.” I winced inwardly. It wasn’t like me to be so cold to a stranger, but I couldn’t forget what Aren had told me. I couldn’t pretend that all was well and time had healed his family’s wounds. Some, I suspected, were too deep to ever recover from.

He looked away. “Yes. Well, thank you for the news. Would you be willing to try your magic again now?”

I knew I needed to, but when I reached for my magic, all I felt was exhaustion. My power still seemed small and far off. Not ready.

“Might I rest, first?”

“Of course.” He stood, and picked up his stool. “I’d like to work on it soon. I don’t know how long you have before they take you away, but with some training we might make something of you.”

I hated to think what that might entail, given what I knew of the man. Still, he’d behaved decently enough so far. I nodded.

“Thank you, Miss.” Ulric walked away.

“Rowan,” I called after him. He turned.

“Pardon?”

“That’s my name. Rowan. I know your name, it seems fair that you know mine.” I wouldn’t be friends with the man, but we could work together and be civil.

He held his free hand to his stomach and gave a small bow. “Thank you. And you may call me Ulric. If you need anything, I’ll be in my little corner.”

He turned away again as I curled up and laid my head on the thin pillow.

If I recalled correctly, he’d been missing for almost three years. Three years, and the most powerful Sorcerer ever to live hadn’t managed to escape. But I would find a way. I had to.