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“I suppose you’re beginning to feel the effects of separation from your soulmate, now.”
Kaevin. I know he’s still alive, but I haven’t felt him since this morning. Do I have enough energy left?
Opening her empathy, she reached out to him. She was bombarded with fear and desperation. Her head swirled, and the world turned black.
**************
Meravelle could hear her blood pulsing in her ears so loud it muffled the sound of her footsteps. The Maladorn Scroll was tucked safely inside the strange mottled-green sack from the other realm. She’d been warned about the scroll’s unusual lure and resisted the urge to take it out and inspect the writing.
With scant sleep since the onset of Vindrake’s attack, she was tired to the depth of her bones. Yet her racing heart made her alert.
She hated to put the ancient writing back in Vindrake’s hands, even for a moment. But in light of the fact he had the power to kill even more of Glaenshire’s citizens and now knew to avoid fighting on the foundation of the Craedenza, they had little choice. She hoped their plan would work, and he wouldn’t stay to inflict more damage on their village. Hopefully, the presence of the Stone Clan warriors and his need to protect his precious scroll would encourage him to return to Water Clan and leave them be. She prayed they could also rescue Alora and retrieve this dangerous other-world weapon that had accidentally fallen into his clutches.
Though she hadn’t lied when she told him no man or woman could step foot on the Craedenza foundation except for the oath-bound, she’d neglected to mention a child could come and go from the Craedenza without hindrance, a fact which had only been discovered at Markaeus’ reckless behavior.
Thus Markaeus had no difficulty retrieving the scroll, before a full day had passed without violence. As the secrets of the Craedenza’s powerful defense weren’t common knowledge, Vindrake would not likely suspect the deceit.
Alleraen had pushed to use the darkness as cover, requiring Mera to arrive before the appointed time. But if fortune held, Vindrake would be so pleased to retrieve the scroll, he wouldn’t question her timing in bringing the scroll before dawn. Perhaps he would take the scroll and release Alora as he promised.
If not... her rescuers waited inside the portal Markaeus had created during her visit with Vindrake the prior morning. Surely they were prepared for whatever might transpire.
Surely...
~20~
Despite having her energy drained, Alora slept fitfully, each waking moment so pain-filled, she wished herself back to sleep. She was quite certain her arms would never work again, after being harshly restrained behind her back for such an extended time. Her depleted soulmate bond caused a stabbing pain in her head that increased with each passing hour, probably made worse because she was already so weak. Knowing Kaevin was experiencing the same pain made her both sad and determined to fight.
As promised, her father slept beside her in the forest clearing, close enough to keep her stomach churning. While the moon was still high in the sky, she heard the excited voices of Vindrake’s guards.
“Sire! The woman has returned. She claims to have the scroll you seek.”
Two guards pushed Meravelle into the clearing, as Vindrake leapt to his feet, shoving his hand into the brown backpack and retrieving Uncle Charles’ handgun.
Recovering her balance, Mera circled until Vindrake stood squarely between Alora and her, blocking Alora’s view. Alora rolled and rocked, scrambling to her knees.
“You have the scroll?” Vindrake’s voice trembled with excitement.
“I have it. But first, give Alora to me.”
“I’ve changed my mind about releasing Alora,” he replied in a matter-of-fact tone. “I need her to guarantee Glaenshire will not attack me.”
“Glaenshire won’t attack you. You’re a judge, and you know I do not lie.”
“Nonetheless, you’re in no position to bargain, standing alone before me without a weapon. Give. Me. The. Scroll. Now.”
“Will you at least allow me to return to Glaenshire unharmed?”
“Fine, fine. Yes, yes, yes. Just give me the scroll and go.”
Alora inched over on her knees until she could see the archivist. “Please, Meravelle. Don’t give it to him.”
Mera’s eyes were sad when she stretched out her hand, offering Markaeus’ camouflaged backpack to Vindrake. “I’m sorry, Alora, but I must protect our citizens. It’s the only way.”
Alora hoped the backpack might contain a fake. But when Vindrake took it in his hands, the proximity sent a noxious wave to overwhelm her volatile gut.
It’s the real thing.
Sliding the gun back inside Uncle Charles’ bag before tucking it under his elbow, Vindrake wasted no time opening Markaeus’ backpack. Shouting a triumphant “At last!” he withdrew the scroll, holding it with a look akin to rapture.
