Eramane (17 page)

“She is not worthy of her new gift,” a tall, dark figure speaks to itself in a deep, raspy voice that sounds like something has a tight grip around its throat. “Her soul was too pure. It is not possible that she surrendered it entirely,” the servant finishes. It paces up and down the unlit hall, ranting to itself, waiting for the opportunity to engage its master.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Vague Memories

THE WIND BLOWS GENTLY ENOUGH,
yet a soft whisper of misery hangs on it, like a ripe apple not wanting to fall from the branch. I wake from a deep slumber; surprisingly sleep comes easily. I lie on the floor of the landing, reflecting on the events that almost killed me; I grimace. It angers me to know that I was almost killed by frozen water and gigantic splinters. I am completely healed, and while my mind fights against my actions, I cannot force myself to starve again. My second harvest sparked a flame, and it burns with fury, fueling an instinct that lies within me. But the flow of primal survival coursing through me never fully coats the guilt. I am remorseful that I killed those people, and as I recollect the harvests, I return to the same conclusion each time: Adikiah will always find a way to coerce me.
Adikiah. Adikiah—where is he
?

I look around the terrace for my creator. This is the first time I have not been able to sense him since I
became
. I fly down to his terrace. Not seeing him, I make my way into the mountain. I have been in here only once since my becoming, to wash after the attack that almost killed me. I do not like being inside of the mountain palace, but my curiosity drives me deep down into its belly. I search each room, with no success. Where could he be? I enter the eating chamber, the room with the amber columns and grand chandelier. As I enter, I feel as though I am walking in it for the first time. The embellishments remain as they were, but my eyes see them differently. Glittering gems look like thousands of tiny explosions; I hear wax splash on the floor as it drips from the burning candles. The columns next to the hearth, once appearing as softly glowing amber, now look like flaming tridents.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Adikiah is behind me. “I thought you would never again enter this place,” he says.

“I was looking for you,” I say.

“You found me.”

His answer irritates me.

“Would you like to eat?” he asks. “Food,” he adds.

I almost reject his offer, but the thought of eating entices me; it is something I can do to make me feel human again.

“I would not mind to eat,” I say. And just as I remember, Adikiah motions and servants fill the table with food. It does not look the same as it used to either. The meats look a drab grayish color, and they smell repugnant. The bread smells sour and the cheeses even more so, like spoiled cream left in a hot stable all day. I look around for anything that I can manage to put in my mouth. I notice a bowl of berries; they smell sweet. I take one from the bowl and hold it up, examining its color, bright red, like the setting sun. I put it in my mouth and squeeze it until it squirts its sugary juices all over my tongue. The berry tastes like sweet longing, and I, in this small moment, am elated. I roll it in my mouth, savoring its sweet taste, and then images flash before me: a blanket strewn with food, sunbeams darting through tall trees, blue eyes—a soft kiss on my forehead! I shove my chair back and storm out of the eating chamber. I feel like I cannot breathe; I need the fresh air I can get only form the landing, and that is where I am headed.

I must have snatched the bowl of berries from the table before I hurried out; I hold them as I stare out at the ocean. The winds from the ocean are strong this evening, and I watch as the water churns in synchronization with the high winds.

“A storm is coming,” I say, hearing Adikiah land. He maintains his true form.

“We must harvest again; we will go tonight,” he says.

“We harvested only days ago,” I say.

“A few days are the extent of a soul’s sustenance,” he says plainly. I say nothing, only look out to the ocean. My attention comes back to the landing as I realize that Adikiah has summoned a servant up here. “Tell her what you told me, slave,” Adikiah orders the sycophant. The frail being looks frightened but holds its ground with its master.

“She is not worthy of your gifts, my master. You should have chosen me to bestow immortality upon,” its grudging voice replies. Adikiah looks to me, examining my reaction. The servant continues, “She is unfit and carries intensions within that are false, my master.”

I am not threatened by what the servant has said. Instead I feel pity for it. The life of a servant from the Reach must be even more burdensome than mine.

“We are the same, you and I,” I say to the shadow skeleton that sways back and forth, fearing that it has crossed a boundary with its master. “We were both forced into a life that we would not have chosen for ourselves.” The servant looks up at me, and I see that it has a face;
she
has a face. It is not detailed, but basic structures are in place: eyes, nose, and mouth. Her skin is opaque and looks like parchment, but her dark gray coloring and elongated features testify to her origins of the Reach, the only place I can imagine that creatures like her would come from. Her black eyes are set deep in their sockets, explaining why I was never able to see them before, as the servants most always keep their heads bowed.

“You see, master, she does not appreciate her new gift,” the servant rasps out.

“I want her to leave,” I say calmly. The servant does not move; she most likely awaits orders from her master. “Leave!” I shout. This time the reluctant servant obeys me and leaps from the landing, the only way to get back into the palace.

“You are staying up here until we leave, I assume,” Adikiah says.

“Yes,” I snap. When my reply comes out so harsh and full, it makes me wonder how much longer Adikiah will accept my rebellion. His feelings for me must be fading after the abhorrence I have shown him over the past few weeks. Adikiah turns to leave.

“Wait!” He halts and turns to me.

“What is it?”

“My memories are returning,” I say to him.

“What are they?” he asks, concern in his voice.

“I think they are of a young man and me, having a picnic in the forest.”

“Anything else?” he pries.

“No,” I say, wishing it were a lie.

“Did I not tell you they would return?”

“Yes, you did, Adikiah.”

“Soon you will have all of them, Eramane,” he says, turning again to leave.

“Adikiah.” He stops for me again. “Why do you possess one of your kind in the relic chamber?” He sighs. He had not expected that I would remember the relic chamber above memories of my family.

“He was my creator.”

“How did he die?” I ask.

“I took his life, Eramane.”

“Why?”

He flexes his wings, and they spread out to their fullest width.

“Because he betrayed me,” he answers, then dives from the landing.
Because he betrayed me
revolves in my mind until I replace it with those precious, vague memories of a picnic in the forest.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

A Great Loss

IT IS TIME FOR OUR
next harvest. Adikiah tells me that the town we are harvesting from is a long distance from the mountain palace.

“You will need to keep up; fly with haste. We must make it back to the mountain before dawn or risk being spotted in the air.”

As we stand on the landing, I look over to Adikiah. He reaches for my hand; it is a risky gesture, but I allow him to take it, unsure why I do. His hand clasps mine and my earlier thoughts on his feelings for me are answered; they have not lessened, yet they are tainted with jealousy, of what I do not know. He pulls my hand to his lips and kisses it. “Let us not find the same trouble as we did the last time,” he says and releases his grip. He spreads his leathery wings and takes to the night sky; time to see how well I can keep up.

We are in flight for several hours before we reach the homes Adikiah has chosen. We circle above a stone house backed by trees. Smoke rises from the chimney, and several horses are hitched out front; they must have sensed our presence, because they are stamping at the ground.

“There are three inside, Eramane,” he says, yet I already know, for I too can see their hearts beating. I look down at two men tending horses; their hearts beat strong, and I wonder why we are here, targeting a group of five humans, when all we need are two. But we are too close now; if I ask Adikiah, the men below are sure to hear.

We decide to enter through the back of the home. Adikiah sets down first, and I am directly behind. I look at the entry. “You will not fit through that,” I say. Adikiah sees my point.

“Keep going; I will meet you there,” he says and flies off. I continue stalking my way through the house. The back rooms are unlit, but to me it looks as if day fills them. I walk by a room whose door is open. Inside are a bed, a long mirror, and a rack filled with dresses. I pass it and take in the smell of the home; they have eaten recently. Finally I approach the room where three people, three souls, unknowingly await their deaths. I peek through a small crack between the wall boards; they cannot see me, but each of them is in my sights. One is an older man wearing an elaborate robe. He is a ruler, no doubt, and his age will make for an easy harvest. Another of the victims is a beautiful middle-aged woman, and the third a stout man, likely to be the woman’s husband. I watch the humans, and for a moment I feel a familiarity with these people. I listen to the woman, her voice sad and distraught. I wonder what has taken happiness from her.

I am rattled when Adikiah erupts through the front entryway, spilling into the room where the lady with the sad voice stares in horror. Their eyes fall on him, and like frightened rabbits, they freeze. The woman screams out, and Adikiah looks for me. He spots me, peering out from behind the wall. “Take her!” he orders. I hurry over to her while she continues to scream, frozen in fear. I hoist her in the air by her neck. Her vocal cords strain under my grip.

Knocking the middle-aged man to the floor, Adikiah moves swiftly and clasps his Goliath hands around the neck of the elder, placing his other hand on the nobleman’s head. I hear the woman gasping for air, and I focus my attention back to her. Our eyes lock and I am momentarily confused. She is familiar, and that stays me from harvesting. “Eramane?” she chokes out. I hear commotion from the disheveled man on the floor; he grabs at his chest. The man cannot take in air. Adikiah, finished with his first harvest, looks over at the breathless man and sees him clutching his chest. But his approach is halted when the two men from outside enter the room.

Adikiah yells to me, “Eramane! Harvest from her!” I face this woman again, and for the second time, I cannot kill her. The two men who recently joined us stand for a moment in disbelief. One has a bow and sends an arrow at Adikiah; it hardly pricks his flesh. The other looks at the woman squirming beneath my grasp.

“Mother!” he cries out and runs at me, drawing his weapon. As he charges, he slips on water that has been spilled on the floor during the discord. The man’s momentum causes him to crash to the floor and slide across, stopping underneath a table. Adikiah grabs his attacker by the face and tosses him across the room, sending him into a bookcase. I drop the woman, the woman who spoke my name. Everyone’s actions slow, as if we are underwater, and I scan the room, taking in all of the violence: the corpse of the ruler, the dying man writhing on the floor, the sad woman coughing as she takes in air, the fallen man under the table.

“Eramane, kill him now!” Adikiah commands. I reach down for the man underneath the table, but then the helpless warrior speaks.

“Eramane?” he asks, searching my face. As soon as my name escapes his lips I know who he is, I know who the coughing woman is, the dying man, and the dead nobleman.

“Samiah,” I swallow, and just as Adikiah promised, all of my memories come flooding back to me, like the churning ocean waters that hurl themselves at the mountain base, all in that that moment. I am mortified that I nearly killed my mother.

“Kill him!” Adikiah screams. “Kill him now, Eramane!” Adikiah screams his order again.

“No! No, I cannot!” I reply tearfully. Memories of my life, of the meadow, and of Adikiah hammer away at me; the room begins to spin.
May the gods forgive me
. Hopelessness envelops me; I cannot breathe. As if my life were choked out of me, I faint.

“No!” Adikiah shouts and picks me up into his arms. He makes no effort to be graceful in my home and smashes through anything in his way until he reaches the exit. Adikiah and I are in the air in seconds and heading to his mountain.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Samiah’s New Command

SAMIAH STAYS ON THE FLOOR
by his father’s side. It takes a few moments before the older man passes; fright from laying eyes on Adikiah brought an end to him. Nahmas staggers over to Alora and helps her to her feet. Samiah holds his father tightly and sobs as Nahmas helps Alora over to her dead husband.