Lark (21 page)

             
“How do you know that name?”

             
“When Dugan was...” he can't say the word, “...you kept screaming it.” His words are spoken so softly, like my suffering has somehow caused him pain. But what makes me so different from any of the other humans he witnesses the Dark Elves torturing every day?

             
“What do you mean you heard me scream her name? You weren't even there. Nobody was.” I pull away from him.

             
“Mia, do you know what Dugan's specialty is?”

             
“Water, Fire, and Air?” I guess.

             
“Not exactly, his affinity is Spirit. He made all that happen in your mind.”

             
Holy smokes. I knew he was powerful, but I had no idea he was so powerful that he could torment me inside my own head.

             
“I've never even heard of Spirit,” I say accusingly, even though I know that it isn't Jacoby's fault my education has been so limited. I was only in Álfheimr for a week, but surely at some point during my brief training, Grey could have mentioned it.

             
“Really?” He seems surprised. “Healing is part of the spirit element. It's not a very common affinity. Most elves only possess control over the regular elements: Water, Earth, Air, and Fire. Things that are natural, tangible. Those who are attuned with Spirit, on the other hand, have power over the mind, body, and soul. Like your ability to heal and Dugan's ability to make you see things in your head. Both of these things are aspects of Spirit. Nobody ever told you?”

             
I shake my head no. Spirit? What does that mean for me?

             
“That is how you were able to fight him off. You may not be able to control the elements in the physical world, but you do have power over them in your mind. That's because of Spirit.”

             
I am lost in my thoughts when I feel his hand grasp my own.

             
“Mia, who is Maddie?” he asks me again, forcing me back to reality.

             
“My sister. Maddie is my sister.” I barely whisper the words, but somehow he hears me anyway. He tightens his arms around me and presses his lips to the top of my head. I feel an unexpected, but familiar, fluttering in my stomach. The words start spilling out of my mouth now. “She is sick. That is why I left Álfheimr. I was going to heal her. But now...”

             
He is silent for a moment. Then he whispers, “I swear to you. I will help you. I will get you out of here.”

             
“You keep saying that, but I still don’t understand why! Why would you risk everything to help me? And why haven't you done anything to help me yet?” My attempt at demanding answers is weak at best.

             
“Because, you and me? We're the same,” is his simple response. I guess I am probably the only other Half-blood he has ever met. “The only reason we are still here is because I don't know if I will be able to transport you on my own. I've never transported anyone. I am working on sneaking you an amulet. I think it will help make the magic stronger. We can't afford to mess this up. Believe me, I'm working on it. You just have to trust me, okay?”

             
Hope stirs in the pit of my empty stomach. Then common sense quickly squashes it.

             
“But how?”

             
“I have some connections. I'll get you out of here. Please, just trust me?”

             
And against all logic, I do.

             
“Can I ask you something?” he blurts suddenly.

             
“I guess?” Between my emotional outburst and trying to absorb this new information, I am mentally drained once again, and my eyelids flutter as I struggle to keep them open.

             
“What song was that?” The inquisitive nature of his question is punctuated by a sudden tightness in his eyes.

             
“Come again?” I ask. I have absolutely no clue what he is talking about.  I am confused because he looks so desperate.  Maybe I heard him wrong?

             
“Did you know that you not only talk in your sleep, but you also sing?” His wide smile produces a single dimple.  I know he is trying to lighten the mood, but I can still see the tightness in his eyes. “Right before you opened your eyes, you started singing a song.  Well actually, you were mostly humming so I didn't catch very many words, but it sounded like some kind of lullaby?"

             
Oh, God. How mortifying.

             
Well, I am wide awake now.

             
“I was singing?” I am desperately wishing that he is making this up, that I really didn't do such an embarrassing thing, but I have a hunch that I am just not that lucky.

             
“Yes. Something about seeing the moon and hearing a lark...” he trails off.

             
At once I know exactly what I was singing, and my embarrassment grows.

             
“It's Maddie's favorite lullaby. I sing it to her”, and only her I think to myself, “before bed sometimes,” I admit, looking down at my hands folded in my lap.

             
“It was nice,” he says earnestly.

             
I peek up at him through the curtain of hair I have hidden myself behind. He doesn't look like he is being sarcastic. He looks sincere.

             
Which almost embarrasses me more. 

             
“Will you sing it again?”

             
“I don't sing in front of people,” I say quickly. I don't sing in front of anyone. Nobody. Ever. Except for Maddie, and that is only because she is still a baby, so she can't judge me.  Yet. To her, I am the most amazing singer ever. I have spent many hours entertaining her with a radio and makeshift microphone fashioned from an old hair brush.

             
“Please? It sounds so familiar. It's on the tip of my tongue.” He looks lost in his own thoughts for a moment. “Please? I need to hear the rest.”

             
I start to fervently decline yet again, when I catch the pleading look in his eyes. For a moment, he looks completely vulnerable. Innocent. With no further hesitation, I start to sing quietly.             

“I see the moon, the moon sees me

shining
through the leaves of the old oak tree

Oh, let the light that shines on me

shine on the one I love.

Over the mountain, over the sea,

back
where my heart is longing to be

Oh, let the light that shines on me

shine on the one I love.

I hear the lark, the lark hears me

singing
from the leaves of the old oak tree

Oh, let the lark that sings to me

sing to the one I love.”

              “I think my mother used to sing that to me,” he says wistfully. “Thank you.”

             
“Sorry, I am such a terrible singer. I probably butchered it,” I say apologetically.

             
“No, it was good. It was perfectly in tune...You didn't miss a single note, Lark.”

             
His mock sincerity makes me smile.

             
“What did you just call me?” I ask.

             
“Lark. I think I finally came up with the perfect nickname for you. What do you think?” he smiles proudly.

             
“It's better than 'princess',” I admit. “But I am not exactly sure why you think it's perfect.”

             
“Don't you know? Larks are known for their melodious singing.”

             
He smiles so sweetly that I am certain he is, in fact, making fun of me but instead of pissing me off, it makes me laugh. I allow myself this moment, knowing that my time for laughing and smiling is coming to an end.

             
I just didn't realize how quickly.

             
“Well, isn't this cozy?” The sound of Dugan's voice makes me jump. At the sight of him, my heart races in anticipation of another torture session.  I feel like my knees are about to collapse beneath me, but I stand anyway. I will not show him weakness. Something in the back of my mind realizes that Jacoby should distance himself from me, but I am relieved that he stays.

             
“Well, well dear boy. Making friends, are we?” Dugan is obviously speaking to Jacoby, but his black, soulless eyes never leave my face.

             
“With all due respect, Your Majesty, what else is there to do down here?” Jacoby shrugs.

             
I can never tell if he is being serious or not. He says he is on my side and that I should trust him, but he lies so convincingly. Is he lying to me, too? Is that the only reason he has been kind to me? Because there is 'nothing else to do'? My heart drops to the ground and I feel so torn. I still don't know if I should trust him. The fact that my feelings are actually hurt is even more baffling. I tilt my head to get a better look at Jacoby's face, but he doesn't look back at me. He just stares at the space directly above Dugan's head, not making eye contact with anyone.

             
“I see,” Dugan continues. “Brian, would you be ever so kind as to relieve Jacoby of his guard duties for the day? He must be overworked since he is having difficulty remembering his place. Perhaps we should remind him of our ultimate goal?”

             
“Yes, sir.” Brian steps up eagerly and takes his post in front of my cell.

             
“
Be ready
,” Jacoby speaks in my mind. I’m startled and it causes me to jump, but I don't think anyone else notices. He seems hesitant to leave, but spares me one long and meaningful look before nodding his head once to me, then once to Dugan before leaving me at the mercy of the Devil himself.

             
Dugan stares at me like a vulture circling his prey before going in for the kill. I can hear my knees knocking together, so I know that he doesn’t even need his heightened elf senses to know I’m scared out of my wits.

             
“I think it is time for another, ah, session if you will.” He gives me a smug grin. I refuse to cower but my legs feel as though they are on the verge of collapsing beneath me from fear.

             
Dugan presses his fingertips against his temples and before I have time to react, the pain returns just like before. The pulsating lights orbiting my head in perpetual circles make me dizzy. Swirls of color and sound surround me. Then suddenly, the world stops spinning and I’m no longer alone. Lying on the ground in front of me is a tiny, baby girl with golden curls.

             
Maddie. She is here, ghostly pale with fever and struggling to breathe.

             
I am frozen in shock, willing myself to realize that this is not real.

             
It can't be real.

             
Before my very eyes she turns blue; she is suffocating. Her big blue eyes are about to pop out of their sockets. She is gasping for breath and I start panicking.

             
“Maddie!” I scream as I rush over to help her, but I’m too late. I cradle her lifeless body in my arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Then she is gone.

             
Vanished.

             
But she is replaced.

 
              My mom is before me on the ground, writhing in pain and foaming at the mouth. She is covered with snake bites, and her skin is turning black where the venom has infiltrated her system. Once again I fall to my knees, trying to heal her. But it's no use. I am too late again.

             
Now Hannah is here. Lying on the floor, her limbs sprawled out in very unnatural ways. Her arms, her legs, her neck. All broken. She doesn't move, she doesn't scream. She just lays there. And there is nothing I can do to bring her back. As soon as I reach out for her, she disappears. I am helpless to save the ones that I love. The pain in my chest is agonizing; this is too much to bear.
It's not real, it's not real.
I keep chanting to myself. I find myself humming Maddie's lullaby to try to keep calm.

             
“Open your eyes, Mia.”

I am startled by the lyrical voice. I open my eyes, and before me is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.
Waves of golden hair fall down to her waist. Her rose-colored eyes appear gentle and kind, but there is a sense of power radiating from her, emphasized by the warm light that engulfs her from head to toe. She has appeared from nowhere and her radiance is so bright I have to shade my eyes.