Oriana's Eyes (11 page)

 CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

“Your mother? She lives here?” I ask incredulously. Am I hearing correctly? A woman from an earlier generation, one who might have lived before Odon’s rule and can explain to me how things got to this point?

“Yes, I’ll arrange for you to meet with her tomorrow,” Tor affirms. “I think it is important that you speak with her.”

I nod emphatically. I have many questions to ask.

“Now I would like to discuss the matter that I am able to explain quite well.” Tor settles himself upon the bench opposite me and rests his elbows over the map and tabletop. I lean forward, prepared to absorb every word he says. “I have noticed your frustration, and I can understand it. Especially since I have explained nothing of the conversation you overheard at last night’s dinner.”

I watch him, feeling slightly guilty at making him divulge the community’s secret, while only living within it for little over a day. Yet my curiosity prevents me from protesting, and I keep silent, eager to learn more.

“I guess the best place to start would be at the basis of the problem. This is no secret. Odon has taken over our homes and families. Every day we cower in his powerful grip. The Great Oak and its people represent a final hope. We are the last chance for Odon to be defeated and our freedom regained.” Tor’s eyes brighten with anticipation.

The idea is heartening, yet I remain doubtful. It’s difficult to imagine someone as powerful as Odon being taken down by a group of young rebels.

Tor must recognize the look of skepticism in my eyes because he continues with added vigor and assurance, “Odon is powerful, yes, but we have a secret weapon as well. Someone he will not be expecting.”

A cloudy realization slowly creeps into my mind.

“The only one of us who will have the power to defeat him.” Tor’s voice is strong and determined, as if nothing could convince him otherwise. He waits for my response, knowing I have figured it out on my own.

“Dorian,” I whisper, not actually understanding why he is the one.

“Yes,” Tor replies with a sigh. “I’m afraid you, Oriana, will play a much greater role in all this than you know.”

This catches me even more off guard, and I glare at him, demanding to know more.

“Yet you cannot fully understand much of it until tomorrow.” Tor starts to get to his feet while rolling the large map. “You must first learn the time before. Then you can begin to make sense of everything.”

“But what effect could I possibly have on … all this?” I stand, hoping to get his attention as he turns to set the map back in place. “I’ve been here for such a short time.”

Tor glances back. “You will come to understand.” He begins to leave. “Tomorrow I will find you when it is time for your visit with Falda.” He has reached the doorway.

“Wait.” I have one more question for the moment. He pauses to hear me. “What does the Rebirth have to do with this?”

Tor grasps the top of the doorway. Facing me, he leans in to reply. “The Rebirth is Odon’s weakest point and the only time that Dorian will be strong enough to defeat him. If the moment passes, then it is likely we will never have another chance.”

I nod gravely, almost wishing I had not asked the question at all after receiving such a daunting response. Tor leaves, and I sit back down, trying to figure things out. I have more information, but I feel worse. I almost wish I were still ignorant of the situation. Tor is probably not prepared to explain the details to everyone. The burden of carrying the knowledge alone must be tiring, to say nothing of having to carry out the plan.

I recall Lily’s remark, which makes sense to me now. I should be worried about Dorian. If he does not succeed in destroying Odon, then Odon will destroy him. It’s odd trying to imagine Odon as just a man.

Yet a burning question that I now fear to ask is why Dorian? What makes him so different? A possible reason comes to mind. He is a half-blood. Just as the other from before had said when I made it to the first platform of the Great Oak. The day he saved Azura and me. She said that him being a half-blood was the cause of his success. But what does that mean? What does his being a half-blood have to do with it?

I get up from my seat and find myself perusing the shelves of books. An old tattered volume catches my eye, its binding worn and cracked, evidence it has been opened many times. Lifting it up, I realize it is not a book but a journal. I open the cover, hearing the crunch as the binding breaks further. Signed on the inside page is the name Narena. I can tell from the messy handwriting within that the words were written quickly. Still they are legible, and I slip it protectively into the soft pocket at the front of my robes.

Leaving the structure, I decide to head for Dorian’s quarters. I hope that finding him there will give me some relief. I discover that a soft drizzle has begun, and the heavy clouds I glimpse through the Oak’s foliage tell of impending rain. As I take my time down the slippery platforms and ladders, my mind mulls over my secret find and what I might discover within its pages. As the rain begins, I have reached the cottages, and I slip inside Dorian’s without thinking to knock. Wringing any loose water out of my dress, I look around, allowing my eyes to adjust. To my dismay, it is empty of any life. That familiar worry creeps over me. Dorian’s room is in an upheaval, and not the result of negligence, but the ransacked havoc of someone in frustration. Baskets filled with personal items have been turned over, and his bedding is splayed in all directions. A canteen of water is dropped on the floor, its contents creeping across the ground. Even the lantern set atop a wooden dresser is on its side, staring at me in dismay. The room is unsettling to look at, much less live in, and I decide to devote the following time to tidying it properly. If this is the only way I can help Dorian, then I’ll do my best. Once finished, I leave the room, satisfied and assured that he will be pleased.

I dash from Dorian’s to my cottage eager to get out of the rain, and light the lantern for warmth. I fall into my bed, feeling the exhaustion of my efforts. My mind is active, however, and I look at the ceiling, trying to focus my thoughts on something definite. Then I remember the journal I found. I feel for it inside my pocket and slide it out holding it above me to run my fingers along its rough surface. I sit up in my bed, reaching for the lantern to allow for better lighting. Flipping open the cover I finger through the pages, realizing that many have been torn out. The first pages have been removed but I find one that is readable.

They’ve separated us from our families and put us into classes based on our ages. I just can’t understand how our own people could do this to us. Pearl says that it’s not their fault and that he’s controlling their minds, but I can’t believe that. I’d never do what they’ve done. I’d never let Odon take over me. Our only hope is in defying him any way we can.

I skip through to the last passage. I notice that it has been frantically scribbled.

I thought that all hope was lost, but maybe he can save us. We’re leaving the Great Oak now, it’s safer that way. If Odon ever found out he would surely die. I cannot believe that this was all for nothing, that his fate is no better than my own. I think this will be the last time I write. It is too dangerous to bring this book back with me, and I do not think it is wise to write down my thoughts anymore. I am hoping he will find this and maybe see who I was and became. I am sorry we must leave, but please understand there is no other way
 …

A small section of the bottom page has been peeled away, and I can’t read the end of the sentence. With a sigh I close the cover and shut my eyes. I feel the sadness in their words, and it pains me to think that in some unknown way this person has sacrificed themselves. Although the story is not clear, I can’t help the tear that escapes down my check. I can taste that same entrapment of some uncontrollable destiny.

My stomach grumbles, signaling it’s time for another meal. The sky is darkening quickly, meaning dinner can’t be far off. A knock at the entrance to my room startles me, and I set the journal aside to approach the entrance. I lift the flap back and discover Dorian standing drenched in my doorway. I guide him inside to dry and warm up. There is a grim look on his face that frightens me. How could he have changed so quickly since the last time I saw him?

“Is there something you—”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Dorian snaps. His words leave my heart pounding.

I hesitate, “What … what do you mean?”

“I can tell you were in my room. You didn’t have to do that. I didn’t want you to.” He avoids my gaze, and I notice the corners of his mouth twitching.

“I’m sorry, I only meant to …”

“It’s okay, it doesn’t matter.” He looks at me for the first time, and his face relaxes. “Have you been all right?”

I smile, feeling that the Dorian I know is returning. “Yes, I was only worried about you. I wanted to tell you that …”

His eyes have wandered around the room and settle on the journal that I had left on my bed. “Where did you find this?” Dorian asks. His tone causes me to struggle to answer.

“I … I … Tor showed me the hall on the platform above. There was a bookcase, and …”

“Tor gave this to you?” There is bitterness in his words. He seems hurt.

“No, I … I found it, and I wanted to—”

“You have no right to look through other people’s things.” He shakes the book in my face. “This is not yours to take, Oriana …” His jaw tightens, and he looks down at me. “Just stay out of this!” Still clutching the book, Dorian rushes out into the storm, heading toward his own room.

I realize my body has stiffened, and I relax my muscles, which only results in an irrepressible tremble. I didn’t mean to cause him so much grief. Several retorts come to mind, but I sigh, recognizing that they mean nothing now that Dorian has left. I try to sympathize with his situation and the stress he must be under but my boiling anger remains. I hadn’t seen him since yesterday, and his only reason for approaching me was to tell me off? I clench my fists in frustration. Any drop of sympathy for him is wiped away, and I head out into the rain, dashing in the opposite direction toward the dining hall.

 CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

My feet slip as I hurry down the last ladder, and my knee scrapes against the wooden rung. I jump down the last distance, my hair plastered against my head and my dress heavy with water. When I round the bend of the platform, I see that I’m not the only one prepared for dinner. Piper and Lily along with Finley and the others are seated beneath the awning of the dining hall’s entrance. Finn leans against one of the stoop’s supports watching as I run toward them. My sandaled feet splash on the wooden surface with each bound. The glow escaping through the doorway proves that it is late evening, and I feel its warmth as I step up onto the porch and out of the rain.

“Oriana, you’re soaked!” Lily says in dismay. She sits upon a wooden bench situated on one side of the door.

“Well it’s raining,” Piper smirks. She stands upon the edge of the porch and stares into the downpour.

Lily gives her a look and shakes her head in exasperation. “I’ll get you a towel.” She disappears behind the door flap.

“Here.” Finn drapes a heavy brown cape over my shoulders.

“You should really get some better clothes than that University silk,” Piper adds. “Me and Lily will find you something better.”

Dugan and Jagger make room on another short wooden bench pressed against the face of the building, and I take a seat, pulling the cape beneath my chin and allowing a wave of shivers to pass over me.

People are still filing into the dining hall in groups. Malise and her brother rush out of the storm, hugging similar cloaks to themselves. I don’t realize who they are until they have pulled back their heavy hoods, and join us beneath the protection of the awning. I nod with recognition, and Aaron waves emphatically. Malise responds with a soft smile. Toby appears shortly after, and he sheepishly grins before hurrying inside.

Lily returns with a thick cloth, and I reluctantly reach out from within the warmth of the cloak to begin drying my hair. Lily remains standing over me, staring hard at my face. I avoid her gaze by hiding behind my hair.

“Oriana … is there something wrong?”

I gaze up at her, knowing that there will be a visible redness in my eyes. Knowing that her look of concern may cause me to lose control of myself.

“What happened?” she exclaims, kneeling down to my level. Now everyone is looking at me, except Finn, who stares out into the storm.

“Lily … maybe she doesn’t …” Piper begins.

“I’m fine, I just … Dorian is acting … different.” I’m not sure how to explain the way he snapped at me. I’m not even sure whether to feel angry or upset.

Weasel shows up beside my knee, an oversized leather cap on his head has two bent-up flaps that give the appearance of ears. His large eyes watch me with concern. “It’s because of his destiny,” he squeaks—and then jumps as Buck’s large hand clamps down on his shirt at the back of his neck, pulling him off his feet and backward to Buck’s side at the edge of the porch.

“Wease, hold your tongue!” Jagger hisses from beside me.

Another wave of cloaked people rush inside and out of the rain. We remain silent a moment longer after they’ve passed.

“It’s all right,” I sigh. “I know about Dorian. Tor told me the big secret.” I finish drying my hair. The towel now damp, I lay it next to my feet and lean back with a sigh.

Dugan follows my example, resting his hands behind his head as he settles upon the face of the building. “Then you understand the pressure he is under.” Dugan’s smooth voice is calm and confident. He looks at me with serene black eyes.

“Yes …” I say slowly.

“Most of the others have taken their seats,” Piper remarks while leaning in through the doorway.

Jagger is already to his feet and beside Piper. “Good, I’m starving,” he says. In a moment of brightness the building’s light floods the stoop and he has vanished behind the flap.

Piper follows, and the others are quick to stand and head inside. I hang back to hand Finley his cloak, give a quick “Thanks,” and then enter the building.

Once inside, I am struck with the warmth of the blazing fire at the center of the building. It causes me to realize how cool my skin is, and I rub my arms in response. Lily is in front of me as we pass down the side of the table. The room hums with a pleasant murmur of voices. Above is the pounding of the rainfall in a steady rhythm, which almost completely drowns out the talking. I see the fire in front of me hiss as droplets that have entered through the smoke hole dive into the hungry flames.

Dorian’s empty bench space halts me, and I break away from the others to take a seat. Finley watches me for a moment but says nothing and continues forward. The area to my right is bare; neither Tor nor Dorian has arrived. I grasp for the mug in front of me and am grateful for the taste of cool water.

“He’s not coming tonight.”

I look up from my mug. Azura stares at me across the table. Placing the cup back on the table, I notice that Liam is not beside her.

“Tor and Liam are taking their meals inside their cottages,” Azura continues. “Today was overwhelming for us all.”

“Then why have you come?” I ask. The tension between us is strong. My intentions were otherwise, but I’ve grown to dislike Azura.

“For me, being around others takes my mind off everything.” She looks down the table into the line of faces, as though our conversation bores her. “I thought you might wait for him. Especially after Tor had filled you with false hopes at lunch.” Azura looks sideways at me. “It’s a good thing I came; you would’ve been waiting here all night.” She gives a short laugh.

I’m not sure whether to smile or be offended. Instead I stare into my mug, feeling hopeless and, despite the company, very much alone.

“Listen,” Azura begins. “It’s nothing for you to feel upset about. He’s just going through a lot.”

I glance up at her, surprised. Is she really trying to cheer me up? “I know that, but he’s different. Something has changed inside him.”

Azura leans toward me, her face serious. “He has a lot to deal with. I can’t imagine it not changing him.”

“No … I mean … I know, it’s just …” I look off into the distance, remembering the moment. “If you saw the way he spoke to me. I don’t know what I did to make him so angry, but …” At that I feel myself break a little. I lower my face, trying to conceal my reaction.

I know Azura sees it anyway, because her lips flinch to the side and she watches me intently. There is a moment of silence, and I sense that Azura is thinking of something to say. I avoid her eyes.

“Oriana.” She is trying to sound soothing, but I can tell it is hard for her to find sympathy for me. Finally she sighs, and it is as if the tension breaks at last. “I haven’t made it easy for us to get along, but I think that I understand how you feel.” Now it’s her turn to stare into her cup. I watch her, thinking that somehow a small victory is occurring for both of us. “It’s different for you though. Dorian …” She swallows, and her voice gets stern as she forces the words out. “Dorian cares for you, I can tell. I’m sure whatever he said, he didn’t mean.”

I lose my breath in surprise as Azura finishes. I hadn’t expected her to say anything like that, and I feel a twinge of guilt at having stolen him from her. After all, she has known him for much longer than I have. “Thank you.” I say with sincerity, trying to hide any awkwardness. I wonder for a moment if we might ever form a friendship.

Azura takes a drink from her cup in an attempt to cover the following silence. When she sets it down, I decide to attempt a conversation. One that is separate from our connection to Dorian.

“May I ask you a question?”

She brightens at the prospect of a different subject and nods.

“How were you captured if you live here at the Great Oak?”

Azura settles, and any awkwardness dispels. It’s as if we have been close our entire lives, and nothing is between us. “I lived in the University, for most of my life. I’ve only recently settled into a new life here.” She gestures to the area around her.

“I never knew my mother or father, only those prison white walls. Still, I never bought into their teachings, and I cursed Odon every chance I had. My temper got me into a few fights”—she pauses, and her eyes shift uneasily—“with purebloods, girls who thought they were too good to breathe the same air as me. Of course I was caught and sent to the Odonian, their usual punishments are mind distortions. It was cruel, but I remained hopeful that they were wrong about part-bloods. I just couldn’t understand what made us so much worse.” Azura sighs. “But that was when I was still young and attending the elementary levels. Things were different even then.”

“What do you mean?” I lean toward her, knowing that her willingness to share will not be frequent.

“Odon was only just getting settled into his stronghold and as children we were the least of his worries. That has changed as the years went on. I suppose he realized our minds are best molded when we are young.”

I nod, remembering how the boundaries were less strict and the races not so forcibly separated.

“I wouldn’t have lived very long if I’d been any older. I learned that soon enough. A few of my friends disappeared. At first harsh discipline meant a trip to the Odonian, where they would hammer the teachings into us and then return us to classes. Slowly the part-bloods were taken away, but never returned. The rest of us quickly fell in line, we were all so afraid …” Azura’s brow clenches, and she is not looking through her eyes but in her mind, reliving that time long ago.

I think of Lenora and the boy so young and innocent, and it causes me to shudder. I was there the whole time but never realized how barbaric Odon was, still is. I wanted to believe I could trust them, believe that what they were doing was the right thing. Now I know there is nothing right about it. “I’m sorry,” I say, knowing it gives no comfort.

She shakes her head waving the apology away with her hand, “It’s not your fault, you were just another victim, like me.” I know she only half believes the statement but am grateful she is at least trying to believe it.

“No, I was there, I just let it happen. I was one of their pawns. Doing nothing is the same as helping their cause.” The words flow out of my mouth, and as I hear them, I realize that I have been saying them inside of my head for a while.

Hearing them, Azura pauses, and her gaze falters. We are interrupted as food is being passed down in front of us. I can’t think of eating, so when I receive my plate, I lay it to one side. Azura does the same, although her mind is elsewhere as she maintains her changed expression.

“I once thought that to be true, but now I can’t bring myself to blame you. We were all young; there was no way any of us could have stopped them. Being angry at you would only serve Odon.” Azura notices her food and plucks a steaming vegetable from her plate and in a final act of satisfaction takes a bite.

I give a small laugh, and she smiles at me, a new aura of peace surrounding her. “So then how did you wind up below ground?” I inquire, now finding my appetite and picking from my own plate.

Azura nods, finishing the bite in her mouth and washing it down with a gulp of water. “That was after I met Tor, which was while I attended the University. He was one of the rebels who first established the Great Oak. When he was younger he would sneak into the University with other part-bloods and free as many as he could. This became more and more dangerous as the years went on. I was lucky. They brought me here and told me the truth about Odon and their plan to stop him. That’s how I met Dorian …” She looks away. “I thought he was the bravest boy I’d ever met, and still so young. He carried his burden well—even now when we’re so close.”

She’s right. I never met anyone like Dorian. All it took was his smile that day when I was still just Oriana the pureblood, and I was completely changed.

“More guards appeared and it became impossible to sneak in. Getting caught meant certain death, but Dorian insisted on returning. It was for personal reasons. He could never let the past die. He wanted to know everything he could about his parents.”

“His parents? He never spoke of them to me.”

“It’s a difficult subject for him. They died when he was very young.” Azura shifts in her seat. “It’s a terrible story to even think of.”

“Oh.” I feel uncomfortable after asking and am grateful when she continues her story.

“It made me nervous to know he was still over there. Risking his life and the future of us all by snooping around the University. Tor didn’t like it either, and after a period of time when he didn’t return, I decided to go in myself and bring him back to safety.” Azura runs a hand through her hair as if trying to stop her past self from making the mistake again. “I should have known it was too dangerous and I was still inexperienced. Dorian had always been the best at fooling the guards. I think he liked the idea that he had found a way to beat Odon inside his own domain.”

She shakes her head. “But I made things worse by getting caught. I knew he would come to save me. He was the only one who could do it, but it was still so risky, and I didn’t want to be the cause of his demise. I guess it all worked out in the end,” Azura says, plainly trying to reassure herself that the past is over. “I think I earned my punishment for my mistake.” She visibly trembles and then reaches for another morsel of food.

“Has your ankle healed?”