The Lotus Effect (Rise Of The Ardent) (22 page)

Thinking both of the song and my grandmother—I snapped back to the present.

I only just managed to cover my head with my arms, preventing a second wave of falling glasses and dishware from cutting into the back of my neck. My eyes remained sealed after that, expecting another explosion to go off.

But nothing happened.

Only the muted sound of falling objects clashing against the tile surrounded me now, a chorus of shattering rain suffering the effects of the blast. I lay dizzy, ineffectively trying to make the ringing and vibration in my ears stop.

I tried to push myself to my feet only to find two pairs of hands grabbing at me from behind.

Xander? Dex?

They each took one arm and hauled me to my feet, ignoring the broken glass that cut into their skin. The motion made me nauseous, and my stomach lurched to my throat in response.

Xander gestured and said something to Dex, but the hollow ringing in my ears prevented any chance of hearing what he had said.

Dex nodded grimly, and let go, forcing me to lean heavily on Xander’s shoulder. Dex skidded on broken glass as he rounded the corner to the other room, searching for the cause of the explosion and any remaining assailants.

Everything in my field of vision moved in slow motion, leaving a ghostly trail of itself in its wake. Xander’s face was no exception. His lips opened and closed as if he was frantically speaking to me, asking me something, but still, no sound reached my ears.

I’m deaf.
The knowledge sent slivers of ice down my spine.
Bones. Don’t let me be deaf.

Xander looked worried by my ill-response so he readjusted, securing my arm across his shoulder and rounded the corner with me. He gestured something to Dex, allowing me to briefly see the mangled remains of the workshop. There was no fire. No smoke. No evidence of an explosion. Only a gaping hole where the bronzed spiked ball had entered. Tools were scattered haphazardly across the floor and the chalkboard had exploded into a thousand green slivers.

Something was missing. I didn’t see Xander’s suit.

I squinted hard, trying to make my eyes focus and even so, I didn’t see his armor. I fought against him, wishing he would let me go so I could help in Dex’s search.

Where was his suit? Where’s my suit? Wait, I’m still wearing mine. What’s wrong with me?

My mind was frantic and broken with worry, much like the disarray of the room before me. Trying to grasp my rational thoughts, I pointed to where Xander’s armor stood previously, wanting to make him aware it was missing. He shook his head as though he understood. He directed his attention upwards at Dex again and mouthed something fervently while still managing to keep a calm face. His eyes told me otherwise. Xander was furious.

Dex nodded in understanding. Xander turned us away from the workshop then. He retreated with me back down the corridor and kicked open his bedroom door—which I thought was a little unnecessary seeing that he kept it unlocked.

Still grasping me tightly, he walked over to his bookshelf and shifted me so he could use his hand to tug at the spines of a series of books in rapid succession. To my surprise the shelf opened, presenting us with a darkened stairwell that led down into a vast nothingness.

He squeezed my wrist reassuringly before we descended into the narrow stairwell, my boots having a hard time finding each step. My grip tightened as his movements in the darkness made my head spin and my stomach lurch again. He must’ve noticed my uneasiness, for he slowed some, coming to a stop a few steps further.

Xander ran his fingers over a panel on the stone wall beside us. Lights flared to life suddenly at the top of the staircase, startling me and making me blink while I adjusted to the sudden brightness. My ears and head continued their dull ringing, and the lights above seemed to blur and dance before my eyes, like little translucent glass bubbles filled with blooming warm-yellow radiance.

After a few more steps, Xander finally slowed our decent and walked into a room full of sunshine, but even in my muddled state I knew that couldn’t be right. Despite what my eyes were telling me, I knew that somehow we were far below the ground.

He helped me to a bed with a dull gray comforter, careful not to jar my head as he lowered me. Making sure I wouldn’t crumple off the side to the floor, he then let go, and approached the nearest wall. He touched a similar looking panel from the corridor—the bright artificial sunlight instantly dimmed, and now the room was instead illuminated with a calming purple luminescence.

Xander disappeared into the adjacent room. A kitchen? He soon returned with a medical kit and several vials of various hued blue substances. I swallowed hard, my mouth dry, but not ready for anything he was about to offer. I took the vial he held out for me, bringing it to my lips.

It smelled like honey—honey laced with poison.

I turned my nose up only momentarily before I gave in and downed the drudge.

The ringing in my ears was only a dull throbbing now compared to the piercing stab that it was before. Even so, I couldn’t make out what Xander was trying to say to me. Ask me? He gestured to my head with both hands and his eyes asked for my permission.

I reached up and moved the mop of my hair out of the way so he could see. I was surprised when my own fingertips pulled away and were covered with the bright crimson of my own blood.

Xander grimaced as he inspected the damage. He removed a small dropper from the medical kit and reached for my shoulder, motioning that I should lie on my side. I raised an eyebrow at him.
He’s a Blacksmith, not a healer
. I shrugged, uncaring, watching as he drew some more of the same blue medicine into the dropper.

He looked up with determined eyes before he tilted my head, gently moving my hair out of the way with his fingers.

I was not prepared for the fire of intense pain that erupted inside my ear as he released the oil down into it. I writhed and grabbed at my ear, trying to suppress the scorching trail that blazed beneath my palm.

Xander grabbed my hand, restraining me from sticking my fingers down into the canal to remove the dreadful substance. I opened my eyes enough to see that his face was close. His eyes, though stern, were
a
pologetic.

To my relief the pain began to dull into a manageable numbness. I reined in my breathing and relaxed back into the bed.

I knew what needed to happen next.

Without any further prompting, I flipped to my other side and moved my hair away from my ear. I closed my eyes, preparing myself for a second round of misery.

Just as the agony erupted again, I felt Xander squeeze my hand. It was all I could do to try and not writhe out of his grasp.

A minute or two passed before the pain dulled again into only a
  
slow ache. As I relaxed, Xander released my hand.

Sitting up slowly, I shifted uncomfortably in my armor, ready to be free of its bulkiness. Without a doubt in my mind, the armor was what had saved my life. As far as I could discern, I had no other injuries. The suit had served its purpose without fail.

I gestured to my armor to make Xander aware that it was uncomfortable and I wanted it off. He must’ve misread my intentions for he frowned and quickly started unstrapping my breastplate and shoulder pauldrons, frantically working his way down to the skin tight jumpsuit beneath.

I swatted at his impatient hands, signaling to him that I was unharmed, that I could undress myself. His chest rose and then dropped as if he was sighing in relief.

Motioning for him to turn around, I dizzily fussed with the straps on my legs. After Xander turned his back to me, I struggled to undo the clasps for myself—my fingers wanted to do the work, but I couldn’t make my vision focus. The churning urge to throw up certainly didn’t help matters.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Xander fidget with impatience. He spun, mouthing something at my expense then kneeled at my feet, wanting to help. I smacked his hand and gave him a fierce look. “Hands off,” I said, though my voice was only a dim echo in my ears. It was possibly louder than I intended, however, for Xander narrowed his eyes and backed away, turning to allow me my modesty. With a shake of his head, he walked out of my line of sight, soon returning with a large white tunic in hand. Laying the tunic on the bed behind me, he disappeared again.

It was difficult to maneuver my body from the last layer and I only just managed to squeeze free before becoming completely frustrated. I attempted to fold the jumpsuit but ended up tossing it onto the pile of armor that now rested near the foot of the bed.

My stomach heaved again from the movement.

Feeling my skin turn clammy, I quickly pulled the large tunic over my head, feeling exposed, but not caring as I tried to quell my restless head and stomach. I breathed a sigh of relief when I finally slipped weightlessly under the comforter.

I closed my eyes to the feeling of languidness that filled my body from the medicines.

“Lily . . .”

A distant voice called out to me again as it did in the Outlands. It contained an echo of many voices. It was a strange voice, but one that I was neither frightened nor alarmed by.

“Lily, the time is not yet ripe. Yet when darkness falls upon your heart . . . fight for us, for we will fight for you.

You are us Lily, and we are you.”

I shot up like a dart, realizing this voice was too real to be only my imagination.

Who?

I didn’t see Xander anywhere. Not even in the room next to me. I sank back down into the bed and sighed, closing my eyes.

I’ve turned completely mad.

I fought the grogginess and apparent madness back for something continued to nag at my mind. My satchel. It still contained my grandmother’s journal inside. “My satchel . . .” my own voice sounded distant and I squinted at its abrasiveness against my throbbing head.

Looking around, I realized there was no one to receive my plea. Fighting the encroaching darkness no more, I lay back and surrendered myself to the healing properties of sleep.

Chapter 22

Feared Connections ~ Plans To Resurface

I awoke to hushed whispers—two male voices from what I could detect.

My hearing!
I thought suddenly, bringing a weak smile to my lips.
Even though I was now awake, I continued to keep my eyes closed, lingering in those peaceful moments before having to force myself back into reality.

“She’s awake.” Xander’s deep voice came closer. “Lily? Can you hear me?”

I smiled, opening my eyes.

Xander’s ointment had worked. One never truly realizes how important something is until they’ve lost it.

“Someone bring me my axes,” I said a little shakily, but still smiling. “Someone needs a thorough beating for mucking up the front foyer.” I tried to roll to my side, ignoring the dizziness that followed.

“Yes, a thorough beating indeed. I only just finished lacquering those floors,” Xander replied dryly as he handed me a mug full of cold water.

I sipped the contents and blinked the sleep from my eyes. “How long have I been out? And who were you talking to a few moments ago?” I tried to look past him.

“A day. You heard me speaking to Dex. He just left.” Xander answered each question without pause.

I shot upwards in bed, making my head spin and hair fly wildly about. “
A
whole
day? I couldn’t have . . .
bloody hell
Xander, we don’t have much time—”

“Easy.” Xander steadied me. “It’s okay. The medicine I gave you was a reparative. It requires a deep slumber to be able to reach its full effectiveness. I had to give it to you in the early stages of damage for it to work—otherwise you could’ve been rendered deaf, permanently.”

I swallowed thickly. “What was that thing? It was unlike any explosive that I’ve ever seen . . . not that I’ve ever actually seen one,” I admitted.

“It’s known as a Sonic Spike. It emits a wave of sound so high in frequency that it pulses outwards in a force strong enough to emulate an explosive blast. Its design resembles that of others found in Sector 1. I have my suspicions, but whoever attacked us wanted to make sure you were severely handicapped before the Barrage. That’s obvious enough.”

“I’m still going to fight.”

He grimaced. “I thought you would say that. The Barrage starts in two days, which is hardly enough time for you to get your equilibrium back much less your normal—”

“—Stop it,” I cut him off as I slowly raised myself, positioning my legs off the side of the bed. “They did this to maim and humiliate, not to kill. They fully expected me to survive to fight. I have to show them that I’m not weak, that I will not give in to their threats.”

He sighed. “No one thinks you weak. They did this because they fear you. Fear your connection to your father. Of what you’re capable of.”

I looked at him sharply. “You say you have your suspicions? Well, I have mine too.”

Rising from the bed, I tried very hard to not topple to the floor. It was artificially sunny again which I suspected was in a hope to help me wake from my restorative slumber. Little rays of golden sunlight fell across my thigh as I stood. Relief flooded me when I spotted my satchel resting beside the armchair to the left.
Xander must’ve brought
—I gasped as a sudden thought came to me.

“Xander! I didn’t see your armor after the explosion. Is it damaged?” I spun frantically, throwing myself off balance. I caught myself on the arm of a chair before continuing, “Those no-good,” I struggled to find an appropriate insult. “
fatbellied,
Gorgon’s
of . . . of cat piss, better not have
scratched
your armor or I’ll . . .”

Xander rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “Or you’ll what? You’ll
fight
them? I think we can have that arranged if you can manage to wait two days.”

I covered my face with my hands and slumped into the armchair, allowing myself to sink deeper into despair. The odds were already against me while at my best, and now I could barely walk across the room.

 
Xander stared at me. I could feel him looking, his gaze heating my skin. His chestnut colored hair was disheveled, as though he’d let his frustrations travel to his hair, but nothing else. His eyebrows rose in sympathy this time, not their usual teasing. “My armor survived the blast. It was only knocked to the floor,” he reassured. “It would deserve to be blown to bits if it couldn’t withstand a sonic blast of all things,” he added, making me grin slightly.

I gave him my best droll look to compensate for his lapse in over-inflated pride, but inside, my heart soared in relief. Reaching down, I picked up my satchel. “What is this place, anyway? This ‘secret lair’ to which you have brought me?”

“An underground bunker. It’s virtually impenetrable. I needed to make sure you would be safe from future attacks while Dex and I left to investigate.”

“Have you found anything? Seen anyone suspicious?”

“Only what I’ve already told you, that the spike is a design reminiscent of Sector 1. We think it was an obvious attempt to lead us astray. No one would imprint their identity onto the design of a weapon like that unless they wanted you to know who was sending it. But we don’t think that’s the case this time.”

“If I had to put credit on it, I would say it was Scottie and his gang. He loathes my very existence.”

“Perhaps,” Xander said carefully, looking unconvinced. “There’s no real way of knowing right now. Dex is working on it.”

I nodded in understanding. Opening my satchel, I reached inside and was comforted to feel my grandmother’s journal. I didn’t take it out. I was not yet ready for Xander, for anyone, to find out about the journal. It held a sacred place in my heart, a place I wanted to keep private for now.

The chain of the locket necklace, the one the Council had yet to come for, slipped across my fingers as I removed my hand.

“Is there somewhere I can clean myself up in this bunker of yours?” I asked, standing once again on wobbly feet.

Xander pointed behind me. “The washroom is just past the kitchen and to the left. I’ve made sure to stock it with anything you may want.”

I nodded and swallowed hard, gripping my satchel firmly. “Thank you. And Xander?”

I waited until I had his eyes. “I plan to surface soon afterwards. There is a fight I need to prepare for,” I said, my own eyes daring him to protest.

If sending the Sonic Spike was an attempt to deter me, then sadly my enemy’s efforts were made in vain.

It only made me that more determined to succeed.

~

After sufficiently cleaning the bloody grime from my ears and taming my long blond hair into a quick braid, I began the climb back up the narrow stairwell that led to Xander’s bedroom. I paused briefly, gathering my breath at the topmost step as I peered into his room, relieved to not find him in it. I needed to appear strong enough to compete. If I didn’t fight—it would be considered a forfeit. And forfeiters would likely be exiled, or better yet, murdered when they least expected it.

Being exiled wouldn’t be so horrible, but execution would not help me expose the Council. Not to mention being remarkably disagreeable.

I reached up and fingered the winged necklace that I decided was safe enough to wear. If the Council hadn’t come for it by now, then more than likely, its presence went unnoticed during the madness of my Coronation. I’d consider it my token of luck. If the Council can falter once, they can do it again. I gathered as much courage from the necklace as I could through grasping fingers before releasing it to rest upon my neck.

The workshop was in a much better state than when I’d seen it last. The debris had been swept up, and the remaining workstation tables were rearranged to allow for the extra room caused by the exploding chalkboard and shattered benches. I looked to my right. The impact site from the front entrance was boarded up and now had a large velvet bow hanging decoratively over the mess.

I stared at the awkward setup with curious fascination.

“You can thank Dex for that. He thought it would appease your feminine appeal. Either that, or you would find it amusing,” I heard Xander say as he approached me from behind, wiping his hands on a dishrag. “I told him to detach himself from his feminine appeal long enough to go do his job and find out who tried to kill you.”

I chuckled. “This coming from someone who appears to have spent their entire morning in the kitchen no less?” I eyed the towel still in his hands. He sniffed with a slight roll of his eyes before tucking it into his back pocket.

“Yes, my feminine appeal will need some serious rekindling after this is over with.” I amended. I looked to the purple bruise and cut that bloomed across the side of my hand. “The thought alone makes me practically giddy with excitement,” I said dryly.

“You’d be surprised, even the most refined of ladies can get quite malicious over the prospect of eliminating one of their foes.” He looked at me with those arched eyebrows again. “Besides, I’ve never seen you giddy before. I don’t believe that emotion exists in you.”

I spun around towards him, playfully shocked. “What about the night you flew me over the Outlands? I was practically drooling. If you don’t think that’s—” I stopped, stalled by the alarm in Xander’s eyes.

“What is it?” I asked, bewildered by his expression.

I could tell his mind was processing something at a rapid-fire pace before he concealed it with nonchalance. His face was tight with disapproval even as he did so.

“Xander, what’s wrong?”

His eyes briefly rested upon my neckline. Tilting my chin downwards, I noticed nothing out of the ordinary other than my necklace that now rested outside my tunic. I fingered the charm and held it out to him in question.

“I don’t understand . . . are you angry I hid the necklace? It’s lovely after all. And, well, it gives me hope—why do you look like you’re going to tear it from my neck?” I asked impatiently. I was exhausted from not eating and wanted to sit down.

Xander swallowed hard and turned to walk away from me. “It’s nothing. It only surprised me.” He faced me again while backpedaling towards the opposite end of the hanger. “Come. I have some warm oatmeal prepared for you—in what’s left of the kitchen.”

I stood in frustrated disappointment. Xander was so hard to read at times. Somehow I knew my hiding of the necklace had upset him greatly, but we had more important issues to deal with than his disapproval of my
feminine
accessories.

Tomorrow was the Genesis Ceremony. It held the opening proceedings that dictated which Sectors were to fight and in what order. I could only hope for a later positioning, but I would be better off just to realize I had no choice in the matter. A day or two of rest wouldn’t make much difference in the grand scheme of things.

In all likelihood, whether weak or strong: I would be dead by week’s end.

It wasn’t failing confidence that told me this. It was my strength.

And I would be remiss not to see that.