Oriana's Eyes (15 page)

He stops short, looking down at me as if shocked out of deep thought. The expression gives way to a smile of understanding as he answers, “I’m sorry.” He starts walking again at a slower yet still brisk pace. “I guess I’d better just tell you outright,” he says, half to himself.

I quicken my pace to walk ahead of him and get a clear view of his face. I can tell it is difficult for him to speak.

Finally he stops again, and I see we have reached the ladder to the next level below. I turn to face him, blocking his way so that he is forced to give an answer. The anticipation is too much. I need him to tell me.

He falters and then sighs, submitting to my penetrating gaze, “It’s Malise and Aaron. They were captured by Odon’s Winglarions.”

 CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

I waste no more time for explanation and tackle the ladder, skipping rungs as I hurry down it. I burn the back of my forearm on the rope, but it doesn’t faze me. The thought of Malise and Aaron facing the torment of Odon’s guards is too much for me. They are so young, and I have envied their innocence. Neither has witnessed the cruelty of University life. I can’t bear to let Odon hurt more of those I care about. He has taken too much already.

Tor and I reach the meeting hall. I feel light-headed, and I try to slow my breath to something softer than gasps. Inside, many others have already arrived, and judging by their faces, the cause for council is no mystery. To my left, Azura and Liam sit side by side toward the center of the long table. She gives a nod of acknowledgment that I’ve returned. Following them and filing around the back of the table are Finley and his rough-looking followers, Dugan, Jagger, Buck, and Weasel.

Piper and Lily are here as well, squeezing between Weasel and Dugan. They are whispering softly yet so rapidly I don’t see them take a breath. When they notice I have entered, they stop, gazing at me with wide eyes. I press my lips together, trying to appear comforting, but they make no movement.

Tor has pushed past me to take a seat at the head of the table, and I search for an empty spot. There is warmth on my arm, and I look downward to see Dorian, his soothing eyes focused on mine. He is seated to the right of Tor. I take the empty space beside him. Weasel sits to my right. Dorian must sense my anxiety, because once I am beside him, he curls my stray hair behind my ear and presses his lips to my cheek. I am startled by his gesture, but move closer. My fears ease at his affection. His hand rests upon my knee so that only I know it’s there.

My eyes move to the other side of the table, and I see an unfamiliar face. It is a young boy with blond hair and brown eyes and a cascade of freckles upon his cheeks. Tor speaks to him in a low voice, trying to comfort the clearly frazzled child. His eyes are red and swollen, irritated by a recent onslaught of crying. When the boy finally begins to respond to Tor’s prodding, his words rush out of him in between gasping breaths. The talking of others around me drowns out his words, but I see Tor react with a nod and eventually a small pat to the youngster’s back. The boy wipes at his eyes, already flooding once again, and gulps back a sob.

Tor gets to his feet, suddenly taking on a commanding air. His height and squared shoulders reflect the part perfectly, and this brief movement causes the others to fall silent. They face him respectfully, awaiting what information is to be given. Tor, however; does not speak and instead turns to gesture to the small boy, inviting him to stand beside him. He leans over to speak kindly to the boy who is obviously frightened of the attention of so many people. Hesitantly he stands but looks down, studying the smooth wooden table.

Once the boy is standing, Tor straightens to his full height once again, which might be intimidating if not for the softness in his hazel eyes. “As you all know, Malise and Aaron were taken not long ago. There were only two witnesses to the capture, Toby and”—he places a large hand on the boy’s shoulder—“Damek.”

If Toby saw it, why isn’t he the one standing here, telling the story? He is much older and could’ve saved Damek from the task. I fear the answer is soon to be revealed.

“Damek, will you please tell the others what you saw? Do not be afraid; you are among friends. We need to know in order to help the others.” I see the true extent of Tor’s skills as a leader. Not only can he gain the attention and regard of a large room of peers, he is able to earn someone’s trust, giving them the strength to overcome their oppressive fears. He has my trust as well, having made me feel welcome when I felt alone and confused.

Damek’s eyes are focused on his fumbling hands when he begins to speak. “We were at the bottom of the meadow.” His voice comes out as a squeak, and he clears his throat to continue. He begins to forget the many avid listeners as he relives his story. “That’s where all the wheat grass was, and Malise said the cooks were running low and that we
had
to get wheat grass. Me and Toby were on one side, and then Malise and Aaron went to the other side.

“Everything was okay until I heard Malise yelling, and I saw her trying to pull Aaron away from one of the bad wingers!” Damek trembles at the thought; he shakes his head. “She wouldn’t let go, and another one of them picked her up, and then they started to fly away!”

“And Toby? What happened to him?” Azura asks calmly, her hands folded on the table. Damek glances at her, and she nods for him to continue.

“Toby, he … he ran after them! I didn’t know what to do! He just started running through the woods!”

“In which direction?” Liam presses, his eyes focused on Damek’s round face. “Where were they headed?”

“I don’t …” Damek struggles to remember and describe it. “They … were headed toward the sunset,” he finally answers and draws a steadying breath.

Tor nods as if he had already assumed so. He glances at Azura, who returns an expression of grave agreement.

“Thank you, Damek; you did well. You may leave. You’ve been through enough for one day and are ready for some dinner.” Tor grins with a new idea. “Tell the cook I said you can have something extra for dessert.”

Damek beams and scurries out the door with a newfound hopefulness.

When Damek is gone, Tor’s face grows grim, and he lowers himself into his seat, suddenly under a visible strain.

“So they’ve been taken to the University caves,” Dorian comments, looking around as if speaking for the others.

Tor looks up and nods. “So it would seem.” He shakes his head, “Odon has been changing the courses of his army. We can’t let anyone else leave the Great Oak until we figure out the new time slots of safety.”

“I knew it; I knew something like this would happen. You wouldn’t listen to me!” Finley’s voice betrays his struggle to restrain himself. “We may be planning Odon’s downfall within our tiny walls, but out there he’s still doing just as much damage. You’re so focused on Dorian’s great destiny that you don’t even realize what’s happening around you!” He shakes his head. “I knew something seemed suspicious. He may already know of our plans …”

Tor maintains composure. “Finley, what goes on in this room is no small thing. We need to concentrate on our original decision. If we can picture our success, then we can make it happen. Guards, schedules—they’ll have no meaning anymore. Odon will no longer have an effect on our lives.”

“And if it doesn’t work?” Finley asks, his gaze boring deep into Tor, forcing him to remember that time not long ago when failure caused innocent deaths.

“I cannot believe that will happen, we are too well prepared.” Tor’s head moves slowly back and forth, fending off Finley’s words. Could Finley’s pessimism be based on solid grounds? Or is he simply unable to let go of past mistakes that will soon be righted? I hope so, despite my doubts.

“Then why are we even here?” Finn asks. “To discuss something we’re not doing anything about? Because I know you’re not planning to form a rescue party. After all,” he adds, an edge in his tone, “Odon will soon be gone anyway.”

“The rescue party is already formed and in front of you. Whether Malise and Aaron are freed from Odon here or there makes no difference. We must not risk losing any more. Taking on too many tasks will only lead to our own demise. You have to think of the greater good.”

Tor speaks stiffly, but I can tell he will not waver. I can’t blame him. It is the strategy of a leader who must consider the many still standing around him, trusting him to save them. If one or two are sacrificed to ensure the survival of the majority, then maybe that is something we all must accept. I know it pains Tor to leave Malise and Aaron in Odon’s clutches, but he must focus on the future and the others of the Great Oak. He cannot afford to lose anyone else.

Still, my heart is not as strong as his, and I was never born to lead. I can’t leave them to be killed, or worse, in the dungeons of the University—and who knows what has become of Toby? There must be a way to get them back, and if there is, I’ll find it.

I feel Dorian beside me shifting nervously in his seat. Tor’s words make him uneasy, and no doubt he is feeling the pressure of it all on his shoulders. I squeeze his hand in reassurance, and he leans into me.

Azura is the one to break the silence. “Tor, your words are painful to hear, but I know you speak truly. We all must be strong and use this situation as further motivation to be ready when the Rebirth arrives. I survived in the caves for a long time. Although it was a terrible place, I am able to move past my time there. As I’m sure Malise and Aaron will, they are both strong.”

“But what reason could Odon have to keep them alive?” I ask. It is unlikely that Odon would have any use for two children part-bloods. I find it odd that Azura survived so long. The others look at me awkwardly. “I’m sorry, I was just wondering what Odon’s motives would be for keeping prisoners.”

Azura decides to explain. “ If the Odonians learn that they were picked up in the middle of the forest, then he will want to keep them for questioning. He will value them for information on any rebellious activity.” I see a shudder pass through her from some internal chill. Azura’s expression is of someone who has stood facing the sheer drop at a cliff’s edge, expecting to fall but being pulled to safety at the last second.

“So you believe the Odonians will keep Aaron and Malise alive to get information out of them? To learn of any other rebels?” I press, waiting for a definite answer.

“We can only hope that they can wait for us to end this,” Tor says.

“So that’s how we’re leaving this? With a hope?” Piper’s voice is strained. I can tell it does not feel right to her either, but I believe she trusts the others. After all, Tor is several years older and has dealt with such matters before.

Silence follows Piper’s query, except for an audible snort from Finley, and the answer is understood. It tears at my insides. How can they leave two children who were born outside the University walls, pure and innocent? They may survive the experience, but will they ever be the same? Will they ever know happiness the same way? Or will they forever carry that scar within them? The same damage that dwells within Azura, that I can only presume marks my own soul. The thought wrenches me from my seat, and I find myself standing at a table surrounded by mourning faces.

My hand smacks the tabletop as I state my resolve. “I will go, I will find Malise and Aaron … and if Toby has been captured, I’ll save him too.”

Tor moves to protest but lets Dorian instead. “Oriana, no.” He is pleading with his eyes, and he reaches for my hand as if to keep me by his side forever. “You don’t know how to get past the guards.”

“You can teach me. I’m a fast enough learner.” I stare into his eyes, ready to dispel any other excuses he throws at me.

But it is Tor who speaks next. “We need you here …” He looks at me, trying to remind me with his eyes of my importance. Yet I hold an advantage, Dorian cannot know that I am needed at the Rebirth. He expects me not to go at all. I argue, knowing the others can’t accuse me of being involved in Tor’s plans.

“There are enough people without me. After all, if Dorian had never met me, you would’ve gone ahead anyway,” I say, avoiding the stress of Tor’s gaze.

“You’re not going to the Rebirth,” Dorian declares with a tone of finality.

“Exactly, that’s why I’m just the person to go to the caves.” An awkward silence follows, and I feel a bit guilty for arguing for my departure, even though I know I’m needed. Yet there’s nothing they can say at the moment. Dorian does not know the underlying situation and I’m sure the others—Tor, Azura, and Finley—want to keep it that way. As far as I know, Piper, Lily, and the guys are still unaware.

But I know there is something about my words that keeps them from making further protest. As if they are hoping someone would step up and take action despite their plans otherwise. Perhaps it’s the confidence in my voice, as if the task has already been accomplished successfully. I’ve even somehow convinced myself that there is no possibility of failure.

“You’ll need to pick the lock … that could take weeks to teach.” Dorian bursts through the silence triumphantly, knowing my ability to counter ends there. I have no idea how to pick a lock, especially under the pressure of urgency. I would need to be capable of succeeding in one try, and Dorian is right, that would take far too long to learn.

I shake my head, trying to fight through the setback. “I can pick a lock. I will go.” I search the group and find Azura’s green eyes upon me.

I cannot hide my appreciation, and I grin in spite of myself. “You don’t have to do that. I’m sure Tor could use your help at the Rebirth.”

Azura smiles blithely. “If you’re willing to take the risk, then so am I. Together we will have Malise and Aaron back in no time. Tor won’t have to worry; I will find someone to take my place just in case.”

I look at her curiously. I nod assuredly, “Then I am thankful for your help.”

“Tomorrow Dorian will teach us the guards’ movements until we are ready. The following day we will leave at dusk.” Azura takes charge, setting the time and place for the three of us to meet. Dorian’s replies are far from submissive, but he offers no protest. Finley insists that he accompany us on the trip there—meaning that Jagger, Weasel, Dugan, and Buck are coming along as well. Piper and Lily plead to join us, but are sent to dinner by Tor who tells them they are needed here.