Torrents (DROPLETS Trilogy Book 3) (18 page)

     “And why not?”

     “This is my only chance to clear my name.”

     “Why does that matter to you now?” I asked, honestly curious about why he had even walked into Lathmor and given himself over to them.

     “Because, it’s my only chance to really be with you,” he said and moved in to press his lips against mine. His kiss was much deeper than my own had been, and before long, I was gasping for air, my body crushed against his chest.

     He pulled away suddenly and I groped for his neck in the dark, having turned partially to face him, still sitting between his legs. When I found his neck, I locked my fingers into his hair and leaned in to kiss him once more. Just before I touched my lips to his, he moved back, his head resting against the wall and a curious look on his face.

     “What?” I asked, uncertain.

     “Earlier, you said something about Verna capturing you.”

     “Yeah?” I prodded, not sure where he was going with this.

     “But you also said we wouldn’t have gone through everything, if it wasn’t for her,” he explained. I tensed up as I realized my slip. He felt the difference in my body and shook my shoulder slightly. “What did you mean by that?”

     Somewhere in the back of my mind, I could hear Kryssa’s voice urging me to tell him the truth. She had told me to tell him who he was, and yet the very idea of it frightened me to my core.

     There was a part of me which couldn’t reconcile the nagging apprehension of what would happen if he ever remembered. I wanted to protect him from the anger he would feel toward himself for what he had become. My heart grew cold, knowing it was my fault he had given into the darkness, which stole his memories.

     It had been in a very different dungeon, on a different island, but he was asking the same thing of me. That night in Hyvar, he had asked me to leave when I had the chance. In doing so, I had given him over to the darkness which reigned inside him—the darkness he had to fight against every day.

     And now, he was asking me to use my power against him, to control him and reveal his past actions so the Lathmorians could see what he was. He asked me to lay him bare before all the merfolk on the island, but what he didn’t know was, he was asking me to also bare myself before them. For every word that would come out of his mouth, was because of me. Every action he had committed since he lost his memories, was because of his sacrifice to let me save my own life.

     The tears began to build behind my eyes and I felt one slip down my cheek, leaving no trace. I looked away from him and felt his palm press against the side of my cheek, turning my face back to his.

     “Lissie?” he asked, his voice gentle and prodding. “Please tell me,” he whispered and gathered me up against his chest. His head leaned down against my own. I knew he was wondering what he had done to make me lose my voice. “Can’t you tell me?”

     My lips parted. I wetted them and waited for the words to come. Nothing came out. Sighing, I looked at our hands.

     “Maybe I will sometime,” I said, recalling his earlier words.

     My guilt seemed to deepen, knowing the moment was gone. There was no turning back now. I had for a moment stood on the edge of the cliff, looking down into the swirling depths of uncertainty and definite heartache, only to cringe away and put it on hold for another time.

     My guilt increased and I squeezed myself closer to him, my legs folded awkwardly, as he still had one leg bent to the side, his back braced against the wall.

     We sat for a long time in the silence, holding one another and enjoying the moment of being together. Time seemed to stand still as nothing moved around us. The only sound was his steady breath, and it wasn’t long before I felt his arms slacken around me and his chest rise and fall more deeply. I smiled to myself, knowing he had probably been going for days without rest. I wasn’t a fool, I had noted the way the skin beneath his eyes sagged a little more than usual.

     Pushing back from his body, I felt the cold swirl around me and knew it was time to get back to Kryssa’s room. As far as I knew, no one was aware I was missing and I would prefer to keep it that way.

     His arms slid along my sides and I had to catch his wrists so they wouldn’t clang to the floor. As my fingers slipped around his wrists, I settled them by his legs and crouched to stand, until I felt the fingers reach around and grab my own arms. Without a word he pulled me to him, his eyes barely open and face groggy. I straddled his hips and gave into the kiss as he reached up toward my lips, entangling his fingers in my hair. 

     With a gentleness I didn’t know he possessed, he pressed his mouth to mine and after he deepened it for a moment, he pulled away to meet my gaze. We didn’t speak, but merely looked at one another, and I saw the love I felt for him reflected in his eyes.

     He was mine, and I was his.

     A brush of a smile raised my lips and I pressed my mouth against his once more before I rose and left him on the black marble floor.

     My voice seemed to come from a different person as I forced the same two guards to look away, and the merman took the keys from my hand without question.

     As I walked up the stairs to the main floor, I heard them mumble to one another, they thought they had dozed off for a moment. But even those thoughts couldn’t touch me as I returned to my room and found Calmric still unconscious on the floor. After dragging him back to the hall, I untied his bindings and removed the gag, hoping he would remember nothing.  

     It all seemed to happen as though I was watching it from above. My thoughts were focused elsewhere, on what I had left behind, and on the task which hung before me. I knew I would see him tomorrow, but what would happen was something I couldn’t predict.

     Lying down on the soft mattress, I allowed myself to give into the fears of what I might become, if I couldn’t control the song. As my mind drifted into unconsciousness, a memory played before my eyes. It was Patrick, his eyes cautioning me the first time I had seen him, standing on the cliff of the island.

    
I’m not going to hurt you,
he had said.

     Unconsciously, I smiled. I had a memory to focus on.    

They came for me at dawn.

     I had to focus to keep my eyes open; the puffiness of my eyelids pressing back against them, but I was more than awake.

     Standing in the king’s chamber awaiting the arrival of Zale, my heart was hammering out a static rhythm of uncomfortable proportions. The scene was the same as it had been the day I questioned Verna. The metal chair stood resolute in the center of the black diamond, and Lathmorian soldiers lined the walls, their communal gaze focused on me.

     A sense of
déjà vu
overcame me, as I ignored their stares and concentrated on the image in my mind. My fear was mounting with each passing second, worried the anger inside me might take control again, but I fought it back with the memory of Patrick’s words. Zale was counting on me to succeed, and I would.

     Upon reaching the chamber earlier, I had noted Calmric’s presence in the crowd and wondered if he remembered any of last night’s events. He looked a little worse for wear, but there was no recollection in his eyes when I glanced his way.

     My nerves stretched tight, I shifted from one foot to the other. Behind me stood the royals, and I tried not to think of Tunder and how this interrogation was counting on my abilities to gain Zale’s innocence.
You won’t fail this time
, I thought.

     A noted change took place in the group when a few of the mermaids turned their heads toward the door; their hearing better than the males in the room. A second later, I heard the jangle of the chains and the grip on my stomach tightened.

     The door opened quite suddenly and four guards escorted Zale toward the metal chair. The merman and mermaid from the night before glanced my way, but whether or not they remembered what I had done, I couldn’t tell because my focus was on the large man who trumped all four of them in size.

     The warrior’s mask was in place as he strode forward, head held high, to the center of the room. It was as though he was leading the group, rather than being brought before the Lathmorians for trial.

     His hair seemed darker without the glaring sunlight, as the storm clouds outside rolled over one another. Fog passed over the island hiding it from the openness of the ocean. I wondered when it would rain, and as if the sky could read my thoughts, a streak of lightning illuminated the gray shrouded atmosphere for a moment; followed by a rumble of thunder.

     Zale was pushed into the metal chair. I recalled how Verna had looked so thin and small while sitting in it. The merman before me was anything but. His legs rested casually and he leaned his back up against the chair as though sitting upon a throne. His chin was held at an angle of resolute confidence, his jaw relaxed and his lips pushed firmly together.

     He was the picture of calm, everything about him spoke of assurance. As he remained still, I felt my heart relax watching his chest rise and fall beneath the gray fabric of his shirt. Each breath extenuated the stillness of the rest of his body. There was something dreadful and awesome seeing him restrained, his power held back and hidden beneath a façade of quiet.

     For a moment our eyes met, and the storm within his gaze was still flickering in the depths of molten brown. Taking a large breath, I gathered my memory in the front of my mind, making it my focal point as the beginnings of a tune assembled in my throat. The sound was pure and musical, stirring high through the chamber, but light and soft in the storm shrouded room.

     I pushed my voice forward and it swirled around him, easily entering his mind. I could feel him giving himself over to me as our eyes made contact, I almost teared up at his sacrifice. He was going to help me through this as much as he could.

    
Are you the Hyven soldier named Zale?
The words floated toward him, beckoning him to lean into my will, with an ease I couldn’t quite understand. I had never before had such complete acquiescence and felt my fears fall to the back of my mind.

     “Yes,” Zale said, his deep baritone echoing in the room.

     Swallowing hard, I kept the tune weaving around him, moving in and out as I tried to assemble the questions Tunder wanted me to ask. The fist returned to my gut as I placed the thoughts into song and let them travel through the stilled breeze to Zale’s awaiting ears.

    
Were you ever known by a different name?

    
“No,” he said, and I noted the change in his eyes as they tightened. There was a small slip in my control as he fought to keep his mind open to me, my question had caught him off guard and placed him on the defensive.

    
What do you remember of your past?
If I had spoken the words, I would’ve been hard pressed to get them past my lips, but they floated to him with ease as though his answer would have no effect on me. 

     “Nothing,” he said, the muscles in his throat flexing. He was battling, his own struggle becoming apparent. These were different questions than what he had surely expected.

     I repeated the question again, this time my voice going higher. He winced in direct response and seemed to sag a little in the chair. He didn’t speak. The fear of what I was forcing upon him, began to creep into my veins. I shoved it back, beckoning him to answer me again. His face pinched in pain for a fleeting moment and my heart thundered heavily in my chest, as he opened his mouth.

     “There was a dungeon. Morven was there.” His sentences were short. My frustration for what he had become pushed forward. I fought it off with my other memory, and it stayed locked way. “Lord Morven told me I had almost died. He trained me. Controlling me to do his will.”

    
How did he control you?

    
“I couldn’t think. I couldn’t feel.” His face scrunched in what I could only assume was pain, as he tried to think of the right words to express what he had gone through. He had explained it to me before, and until recently, I hadn’t fully understood what he meant. The Lathmorians around us could never comprehend what it was really like. “I could only hear his voice in my head. Telling me what to do.” He exhaled loudly as though it had taken all of his strength to give this admission.

      A part of my control on his mind slipped. His brow creased in concentration, trying to remain open. A wall was beginning to build between us. It rose up with assured conviction, my voice seeming to be unable to reach him.

     Feeling guiltier by the second, I tried to caution him with my eyes and he gave himself over to me again. The wall between us fell once more and I felt the ease with which I could gain his acceptance to my will.

    
What happened the night you attacked Lathmor?
My gut twisted as I saw him grimace. The mask of the warrior took over, and after a moment of warring against my beckoning, he joined me.

     “Lord Morven planned the attack. He commanded me to kill any Lathmorian I saw. And I did.” His chest was moving more quickly now, but I pressed on, knowing the real reason we were here. The tune of my song rose and he winced again, feeling the power of my voice, urging him to continue. He opened his mouth in response, “I lived in anger. I could only focus when I thought of you. But you were dead to me that night.”

     His words were like a punch to my gut, what little grip I had on my anger slipped for a moment. I felt the beginnings of it slide into my blood, trailing to where my fingertips tingled with anticipation, and the urge to cry out with my voice almost over took me. This time, it was his eyes, which cautioned me to push back against the anger and continue. I fell into the brown depths and gathered my courage, knowing I had to do what was required of me, regardless of the reasons.

     The memory of Patrick was once again at the forefront of my mind. I raised my song to push further, knowing it would hurt him even though his eyes were telling me to do it.

    
Did you know what you were doing that night
?

      “Yes,” he said around a grimace. “I wanted all of them dead.”

     From somewhere far away, I heard murmurs from the Lathmorian soldiers. My focus remained on what was at hand.

     His gaze was slipping from mine, his eyes closing off as the mask of the warrior began to take control. He was fighting his own anger and the instinctive urge to do Morven’s will.

    
How can we trust you now?
I asked quickly, hoping I was working fast enough.

    
His chest heaved, “You can’t.” Shaking my head, I tried to ignore my own mounting anger. He wasn’t answering the way I wanted him to, and yet, he was being truthful. “But I can control myself now,” he said and exhaled sharply as though I was squeezing his chest.

     There was one last question I needed to ask and as my own anticipation gathered, I spun the words into song, beckoning him forward.

    
Did you kill King Oberon?
The words floated around the room with a shrill bite. The chamber seemed to grow quieter as the Lathmorians leaned in to hear his answer.

     His chest heaved for a moment. I almost raised the question again in song when he exhaled. “No,” he said.

     I dropped the connection between us immediately, though the last of my song remained. I was fully aware of the physical effects my voice was having on his body.

     As though coming up to the surface to breathe, other sounds began to ring in my ears. The stilled air and rolling thunder outside the windows, the various murmurs traveled above the Lathmorian heads with weighted breaths and restrained exclamations. I heard it all as though from afar.

     He remained seated, but he was sweating, his shirt had turned dark gray down the middle of his chest and parts of his hair had darkened around the nape of his neck. As the tune floated away, a rumble of thunder filled the room and the tingling in my fingers came to a stop. I glanced down at them and then back up at Zale. Though he was breathing hard and his eyes were tired, he looked back at me with a pride I had never seen before.

    
We did it
, I thought and could see he was thinking the same thing.

     From behind me, I heard someone cough and turned to look up to the newly crowned king. His eyes rested on the warrior, and what used to be his good friend. Behind him, Kryssa met my gaze and she smiled for a moment with a look of relief. Maybe I wasn’t the only one who had been worried about the proceedings. From the looks of Shaylee, it appeared she was also glad to see it come to an end. 

     All around the room, the Lathmorians began to shift on their feet and as I glanced at them I noted a change in the way they looked at Zale. More than anything there was curiosity in their eyes, and though Voon still appeared hostile, his face was controlled and still for the moment. It was as though these merfolk had heard for the first time what Morven was really capable of. I remembered they had thought Patrick and I were dangerous the first time I was brought to Lathmor, and they couldn’t have been more right. Yet, at the time they didn’t know the extent of Morven’s abilities to bring someone under his control.

     Tunder edged down the three steps, bringing himself to stand beside me, as he looked down at Zale. Though the warrior’s chest still heaved from exertion, his eyes met the king’s with a pride which couldn’t be missed.

     “Thank you, Lissie,” Tunder said, not turning in my direction. I bit back my tongue to keep myself from saying something I would regret. I hadn’t had a choice in the matter, but he didn’t need to know the depths of my feelings.

     “Zale,” he addressed the warrior, “you will be taken back to the dungeon and we will let you know our decision soon.”

     “What decision?” I asked, butting in. “He just proved he’s innocent.”

     Some of the on looking Lathmorians murmured, but I ignored them as I focused on Tunder. He stood up straighter and his gaze never faltered as he looked back at me.

     “I know,” he spoke calmly, “but we have to make a decision.”

     “There’s nothing to decide!”

     “Lissie,” Kryssa cautioned.

     “No,” I glanced at her for a moment. “Your father understood the control Morven had over him. When he came to see me, we spoke of the powers the blades and scales have.” Blinking eyes and wrinkled brows met my words and I took a larger breath.

     “Look,” I exhaled, stilling the trembling in my fingers. “There’s a difference between the two.”

     “How so?” Tunder asked, and I could tell I had his attention. For the first time since I had been in Lathmor, he was looking at me without a mask of hostility. All that showed was his blatant curiosity; a desire for answers.

     “These theories are ones the king shared and had developed from what his wife told him.” Behind Tunder, Kryssa shift forward. “We believe the scales are what change a human into a mermaid or a merman, but the blades are different. They provide the abilities each sex has. For instance, if Morven gets a hold of me, I will be faster and stronger than other mermaids.”

     Tunder looked toward Zale and I knew exactly where his thoughts were. He was connecting the dots, suddenly realizing Zale had better eyesight and hearing than any other merman; coupled with his skills in battle, he was lethal.