Alora: The Portal (36 page)

“Okay.” Alora reached out for Kaevin’s hand. “I won’t draw from the soulmate bond… I promise. But I could use a little courage.”

Kaevin wrapped both hands around her fingers, lifting them to his lips to place a gentle kiss of encouragement. With calm blanketing her senses, she pictured Uncle Charles in the hospital room.

He appeared with a blond boy, maybe eight or nine years old, at his side. The boy’s mouth dropped open, his eyes wide with wonder, as he surveyed the room.
So this is Markaeus. I wonder why he’s with my uncle.

Dr. Sanders shoved a wheelchair behind Charles, and he collapsed into it. Without thinking, Alora accessed his pain, and the intensity of it overwhelmed her.

“Uncle Charles!”
I’ve got to get to him.
She struggled to rise from the bed, but Kaevin held her down with one arm.

“Don’t move, Alora. We’ll bring him to you.”

Dr. Sanders pushed the chair as close as possible to Alora’s bed.

“I did it, Uncle Charles.” She sniffed, reaching out for his hand. “I stayed alive, just like I promised.”

“I know, sweetie. I’m so proud of you.” His voice came out gravely as he stared at her bandaged arms. “Does it hurt very much?”

“I don’t feel any pain now, Uncle Charles, but I can feel yours.”

“I’m strong as an ox; I’ll be fine. I’m just worried about you.” Charles lifted his eyes to Dr. Sanders. “How is she, Doc? I need to know.”

“Alora’s burns are quite severe, Charles,” Dr. Sanders answered, looking graver than Alora thought he should.

“I’m fine, Uncle Charles. Don’t listen to him.”

Dr. Sanders counted off on his fingers. “She’s got an infection from the burns, and her kidneys have shut down. Her white count has been sky high, although it’s finally started dropping. We still have her listed in serious condition. She’s got a long way to go, and she may need skin grafts at some point.”

“I’m so sorry, Alora.” Charles blinked rapidly, his voice choking.

“What about you, Uncle Charles? I know you got hit by an arrow, and I can feel how much it hurts. Are you…” Alora gulped. “Are you dying?”

“Uncle Charles isn’t going to die. He already promised me.” The little boy who’d arrived with her uncle stepped forward, puffing out his chest as he made the declaration.

Alora gave him a teary smile. “I’m glad to know that. Your name is Markaeus, right?”

“Yes, and you’re Alora and that’s Kaevin. I met him in Laegenshire when he knocked me over, but that was when I was spying for Vindrake.” Markaeus wrinkled his nose like he smelled something awful. “He didn’t let my family go like he promised. He’s a bad man.”

“I’d have to agree with you about that.”

“Uncle Charles said you’re going to be my sister.”

Distracted from her heavy emotions, Alora chuckled. “Nice to meet you, Markaeus. I’ve always wanted a brother.”

Alora sent a silent question to Charles with arched brows. His shoulders went up as he mouthed, “It’s a long story.”

“I’m afraid we need to get you admitted to the hospital, Charles. You can come right back; there’s an empty bed in this room.” Dr. Sanders backed the wheelchair up, but Charles lifted his hand.

“Wait… before I go… I need to say something to Kaevin.”

Alora could feel how nervous Kaevin was as he stood to face Uncle Charles, wiping his hands on his pants. "Yes, sir?"

Charles extended his hand, and Kaevin returned the gesture. Their fingers blanched from the firmness of the mutual grip. “Thank you for keeping your promise,” said Charles in a trembling voice. “Thank you for bringing her back to me.”

Kaevin answered with a sharp nod. “I love her.”

“I know you do.”

Alora almost fell off the bed. With great effort, she closed her gaping mouth.

“You can continue this another time,” Dr. Sanders declared as he backed the wheelchair out of the room. Charles blew a kiss at Alora, smiling at her shock.

“May I come with you?” Markaeus pleaded with Charles.

“We’ll both go along, Markaeus. My name is Raelene.” She fell in step, placing her arm around the boy’s shoulder.

“I hope Alleraen awakens before Dr. Sanders returns to put Charles in that bed.” Jireo’s mouth twisted in a wry smile.

“I’m awake already.” Alleraen’s voice came from behind the curtain. Pushing the cloth aside, he emerged, his curly auburn hair askew. He took a few wobbly steps before Jireo moved to his side, straining to support Alleraen’s muscular frame as he shuffled to the nearest chair.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever thanked you for all you did to save us from Vindrake.” Alora experimented with her gift, sending heartfelt appreciation to Alleraen.

“I appreciate your words, though I still don’t feel deserving. You couldn’t realize my grievous error, but I had an opportunity to kill my brother. Unfortunately, I allowed my desire for revenge to overcome my good judgment.”

“I believe you’ve more than compensated for any temporary lapse in wisdom,” said Kaevin. “Alora and I are both in your eternal debt.”

“We really are,” Alora agreed. “I know you risked your life to save mine. Is there anything I can do for you in return?”

“In all honesty, what I would love most is to be a part of a family… to be a true uncle.” Alleraen’s usual confident demeanor disappeared as he stared at his fingers in his lap.

“I’d love that.” Alora’s voice sounded small in her ears.

Looking up with a hope-filled expression, Alleraen’s nostrils flared. “I was afraid you wouldn’t wish to have me present as a constant reminder of your father.”

“My real father is Uncle Charles; I’ll never call Vindrake my father again.”

With her emotions spilling out, Alora felt spikes of pain. Reaching into the pail on the table, Kaevin snagged a piece of ice, which he slid into her hand. She gripped it, relieved to regain control of her gift.

“Having you as my niece and seeing how Drakeon tortured you gives me yet another reason to wish my brother dead. Some day, I’ll see it happen.” Alleraen’s jaw took on a determined set.

The room narrowed and Alleraen’s face blurred. Darkness overcame her.

Pain speared into Kaevin’s consciousness as the ice slipped from Alora’s fingers. He squelched a grimace, keeping his tone light. “She’s asleep again.”

“How do you endure the pain?” asked Jireo, wincing. “Even I can feel it since she began to use her empathy. When she sleeps, she pushes it away from her to all in her vicinity. Perhaps you might distance yourself during her sleep periods so you can rest.”

“Distance is no boon for me; she sends to me regardless of my location. But I can assure you, what I now feel is barely noticeable compared to the agony we shared before.”

“Still, you could find a place to stretch out rather than sleeping in that chair,” Alleraen suggested.

“She’s so frightened when she awakens to the pain, before she blocks it with her gift. I don’t wish her to face it alone. I fear she might accidentally transport somewhere without me.” Tightening his grip on her fingers, Kaevin rearranged his chair and fluffed a pillow to support his head.

“Then we’ll see you on the morrow.” Jireo patted Kaevin’s shoulder before helping Alleraen to the door.

“Though I’m thrilled Alora has accepted me as family, I’m afraid I’ve no desire to continue sharing in her pain,” Alleraen admitted.

Pausing at the doorway with one corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile, Jireo offered Kaevin a parting thought. “Perhaps you’ll be encouraged to know my defender bond is no longer sending vague warnings of your impending death.”

Kaevin grinned. “I suppose this will become our new farewell mantra…
I believe you’ll remain alive until I see you again
.”

Alora accepted Kaevin’s help mounting Willow, though it irked her to be so dependent.

“I know you could manage without my assistance, but Dr. Sanders stressed how careful we must be with your arms. You don’t wish to return to the healing house, do you?”

“Of course I don’t.” A bit of petulance crept into her voice. “Though I think you’ve been in Montana long enough to call it a
hospital
.”

“What-
ev
-er.” Kaevin laughed, his good spirits rubbing off on her. “I’m simply glad you got to have a celebration for your birthingday, even though you were in the
hospital
.”

“I can’t believe Beth pulled off a surprise party. She even snuck Wesley and Daegreth in there. It would never have worked if I’d had any idea it was my birthday, but I’d totally forgotten about it.”

“There seems to be little Beth can’t accomplish if she truly desires it. I believe she would’ve been quite gifted if she’d been born in Tenavae.”

“Speaking of gifts… have you noticed you can’t feel my emotions today? I think I’ve finally got this empathy thing down pat. I don’t even have to touch water, wood, or stone with my hands anymore.”

She was surprised to see his smile droop. “Truly, I’m happy you’ve learned to utilize the elements and master your gift. But…”

“But what?”

“Though I must admit it was often overwhelming, I rather enjoyed sharing all your emotions. It seems unfair you should always know mine when I can’t likewise know yours.”

“Aren’t you glad I’m not projecting my pain anymore?”

“I am. Yet I’d rather feel your pain than be shut out of your heart. The assurance of your love is worth any agony I must endure.”

“You don’t need my gift to know I love you. I tell you every day, now.”

“It’s not the same as
feeling
it.” He pushed his lower lip out in a playful pout as he mounted River, drawing his mare alongside hers.

She couldn’t resist his pleading eyes. “Okay.” Careful to keep her pain locked away, she unsealed the channel to her emotions. As always, she had lots of them, all at once. Using her newly-developed skill, she concentrated only on her love for Kaevin, obstructing all the others.

She let it flow to him.

His eyes closed, and his mouth went slack. He let out a little moan of bliss. “For a taste of that each day, I’ll endure any pain that comes my way.”

“Ha! You’re such a hopeless romantic. Don’t get me wrong; I don’t want you to change.” Alora opened herself to Kaevin’s emotions. His love poured out like a waterfall, and she drank it in until it settled in her tummy, warm and glowing.

“Can I kiss you?” He leaned as far as possible, twisting his face toward hers.

Alora stretched her neck toward him, straining, until their lips just brushed together, sending a thousand tingles down her neck to make goose bumps on her arms.

“Alora! Kaevin!” Markaeus burst through the stable door, panting for breath. “Come quick! Uncle Charles says come right away!”

“Where? What happened?” asked Kaevin, hefting Markaeus up to sit in front of him on his mare.

“I went with him to help clean out the root cellar. But when he opened it, he found something big and dead and stinky inside. He said you might know what it is.”

Kaevin bent his head back, laughing. “You never told Uncle Charles about the wendt?”

“I kept meaning to tell him, but I forgot.” Alora’s stomach turned, imagining her uncle’s irritation along with the stench of the dead wendt. “How are we going to get that huge, nasty thing out the door?”

“I have a thought… Since Raelene has taught you the method to transport inanimate objects, you should send the carcass to Vindrake.” Kaevin wagged his eyebrows, biting back a smile.

“Kaevin, you’ve got a devious mind,” Alora answered with a conspiratorial grin. “Just one more reason to love you.”

Vindrake regarded the haughty man
standing before him, dressed in the finest leathers, with grey-peppered brown hair meticulously arranged. Deep green eyes held his gaze without flinching. Though his arrogance begged to be taken down a notch, Vindrake was curious when his guard informed him that a Stone Clansman had come, volunteering to take the oath of fealty.
Surely, he’s lying… probably a spy sent by Graely BarManasae.
What an idiot to think he could fool the greatest judge of all time.

Tossing a few grapes into his mouth, Vindrake turned his attention back to his food, forcing the man to watch him partake of a leisurely meal. After finishing the last crumb on his plate, he allowed a servant to wipe his mouth with a warm cloth. Vindrake’s fingers idly traced the elaborate carving on the side of the heavy wood table, a recent addition to his chamber, built by Water Clan artisans to replace the destroyed stone table. The spy held his peace though Vindrake could sense his irritation at being ignored.

“Why have you come, unbidden, to Portshire? And why should I not kill you where you stand?” Vindrake stretched his hand toward the man’s throat, flexing his fingers to apply slight pressure, just enough to remind him who was in control.

“Master Vindrake, I’ve come to give you my loyalty and hope to prove myself worthy of your esteem.” Forcing the words through his constricted airway, he gave no indication of discomfort.

“Why would I be interested in someone who’s proven himself to be a traitor?”

“I’m no traitor—it is Graely who has betrayed me. I’m extremely gifted in farsight, and by all rights, should be Stone Clan’s chief of farsight. Yet Graely chose to promote Darielle upon her father’s death. A
woman
. Having only
twenty-six years
.” His lip curled in obvious distaste.

“Imagine.” Vindrake let the man draw his own conclusions from his sarcastic response, as he had no such reservations concerning gender or age.

“Though I offered my services on numerous occasions, Graely has rejected me each time. It’s as if he doesn’t trust me. Or perhaps he underestimates my gifting. Yet he’s been fostering that boy, Jireo, who’s only recently come into the farsight gift. I’ve come to realize, even if Darielle were to have some unfortunate accident resulting in an early demise, Graely will never give me the position of honor I deserve.”

“And so you’ve come to me? Expecting to become my chief of farsight?”

“I only wish to have the opportunity to prove my giftedness. I’m quite certain you’ll find me invaluable, and you’ll wish to reward my service with a position on your council. But I make no demands.”

“It is well that you make no demands, because such behavior is rewarded with death, not a council position.”

The traitor’s eyes flickered with fear—only for a moment—before his poise returned. His lips remained frozen, but his voice spoke in Vindrake’s mind. “
I’m certain you won’t wish to waste my farsight once you realize the extent of my gift.”

Vindrake leapt to his feet, seething at the intrusion. “Never again enter my mind without permission!” He moved within a hand’s width, glaring at the startled Stone Clansman, who retreated a few steps.

“Begging your pardon, Master Vindrake. It was the only way I knew to demonstrate my giftedness.”

“I don’t find your invasion impressive.” A lie, of course. And the traitor’s half-smile told him they both knew it. Vindrake couldn’t help being stunned that the Stone Clansman had bypassed his carefully constructed barriers in order to speak inside his mind.

“Once again, Master Vindrake, I beg your pardon. I promise not to circumvent your mind’s protection again.” Though his expression remained neutral, his words emphasized the fact his gift was stronger than Vindrake’s.

I should kill him for his impertinence, and I will. But first I will use him for my own purposes.
Vindrake returned to his chair, resting his elbow on the table.

“What of your people? You have no loyalty to Stone Clan?”

“Graely lost my loyalty and respect when he refused my generous offer to serve as chief of farsight, at least until Darielle acquired thirty years. He claimed my nature was too violent for a council position, but that accusation is based on a lie.”

“What lie was told concerning your violent nature?”

“My wife spread rumors about me, telling all of Laegenshire I lost my temper and beat her without reason…. a completely false allegation. I never laid a hand on her in anger. I only disciplined her when I deemed it necessary to maintain a proper attitude of respect. Then when she accidentally fell and broke her neck, I was falsely accused of murder. Though Chaleah found I told no lie, Graely still treats me as if I were guilty.”

Vindrake steepled his fingers, tapping them together in a slow, thoughtful rhythm.
Interesting… he believes every word to be absolute truth, though I perceive he had a hand in her death. I see why Chaleah could not convict him.
“And you’re prepared to take the oath of fealty, immediately? To submit to my leadership without question?”

“In you, I see a leader who will do whatever is necessary to reach a goal, without regard for simpering sentimentality. Unlike Graely BarManasae, you have my respect, and I see no reason I’d ever question your authority.” He held out his hand. “I’m ready to take the bloodbond.”

Yawning, Vindrake feigned indifference. “I don’t believe I wish to give you the bloodbond.”

The traitor’s face flushed. “What must I do to prove myself worthy?”

“You misunderstand my intent. I’ve recently begun to differentiate between those who would only follow me with the bloodbond and those who would do so without the compulsion. You fall into the latter category. And I find myself in need of a spy in Graely’s circle. With your gift, we could communicate with ease.”

“A spy? You wish me to return to Laegenshire and report to you concerning the council’s plans?”

“Are you willing?”

His lips pulled back in a sneer. “It would be my pleasure.”

“And perhaps you may earn a position on my council through your actions.”

“That would be an added reward, Master Vindrake.” Bobbing his head, the Stone Clansman gave a slight bow. “However, merely having a role in Graely’s destruction will be a great prize.”

“Do you have some latent protective attitudes about young girls? For I will have my revenge on Alora and Kaevin, as well as Graely.”

“No, indeed. I’d be happy to participate in Alora’s death, and I have no qualms about any aspect, including torture.” The anticipation shining in his eyes reminded Vindrake of a hound salivating over its food.

Vindrake bestowed what he hoped was a benevolent smile.
Of course you will never be on my council, for I cannot long abide someone with gifting that exceeds my own. Still, when the need arises, you will make an awe-inspiring wendt.

Tilting his chair back, he propped his feet on the table. “Then you should be very happy with your assignment. Very happy, indeed.”

A huge crash echoed in the cavernous chamber as the table cracked beneath Vindrake’s feet.
Startled, Vindrake lost his balance, tumbling backward to the stone floor and striking his head.

“Let me help you up, Master Vindrake.” While he extended his hand to Vindrake, the Stone Clansman’s eyes darted back toward the demolished table. “What is that thing?”

Vindrake struggled to his feet, staring at the enormous decaying mass covering the remains of the table. His hand rose to his mouth as he gagged at the noxious stench.
A wendt… Alora…

“My wards have failed! Guard! I need a new shaman—bring me Leethielle!”

Arista climbed into the sleeping loft, shoving the mattress aside to pry up the loose board. Groping in the dark space, her hand located the treasure. With a glance over her shoulder to ensure her parents had not yet returned, she withdrew the scroll. Hands trembling, she spread the parchment and smoothed out the wrinkles. Though it had been stuffed without care into her clothes pocket, dunked in the water on two different occasions, and hastily crammed into its dusty hiding place, the parchment remained clearly legible.
Except I can’t read a word of it. What language is this?

As her fingers traced the letters, a tingle ran up her arm and down her spine. The beautiful script was a feast for her eyes, and she longed to read the words.
What might it say? What could make this parchment so important that Vindrake would keep it locked within his trunk? Surely the scroll must be wicked… but perhaps not. Perhaps the evil lies within the user. Perhaps in someone else’s hands, the scroll’s knowledge could be utilized for good.

For two moons she’d debated the best course of action, finally deciding to give the scroll to Nordamen. As she retied the binding sash around the rolled parchment, Arista hesitated.
What if he destroys it, without attempting to glean its valuable knowledge? He might not recognize its beauty and potential. Perhaps, for now, I should keep it safe in its hiding place.

Lifting the creaky board to tuck it away, Arista had another thought.
The most secure place for the parchment is with me.
Donning her freshly-laundered green cloak, she tucked the scroll deep within the pocket fold, as her body hummed its approval.

“I’ll only keep it for a few more days. Then I’ll allow Nordamen to have it.” Saying the words aloud made her believe it was true.

Almost.

Here ends book two of the Alora Series

From the Author

Thank you for reading
Alora: The Portal.
If you enjoyed the book, please take a moment to leave a review. I treasure your feedback. The next book in the series,
Alora: Seeking Serenshire
, is in the works.
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