The Silver Siren (Iron Butterfly 3) - Page 59

“Talbot. You will be happy to see that I think I’ve figured out this last translation in the Horden journals. It’s something about finding the balance between light and dark, good and evil. I think this is what Lord Horden was talking about when he was able to create a Denai unlike any other.” Xiven pulled out a large book and laid it open on the desk, pointing to the scribbles here and there. “So you see, I think there may be another way to save the Denai from going extinct. It talks of breeding the two races. I don’t think it means what we are trying to do. I think it is just a natural occurrence that can be fixed with simple intermarriage…Talbot?”


Talbot ignored Xiven and kept working. “Yes, yes. Fine, fine. Leave the notes and go back and keep Mona company. We are off tomorrow to find Raven some stronger Denai.”


“But don’t you see? If the two races combined naturally, then they would grow stronger. We wouldn’t have to force a change on them metaphysically.”


Talbot jumped up from the table and swung his short beefy hand at Xiven, boxing him in the ear. “Listen to your master, you pinheaded weasel, or you’ll end up one day on the table across from the girl, being drained of your powers. You’re tasked with translating. That is it! Tell Mona we need to find another Denai and I’ll be up shortly. I want to check on the girl before I leave.”


Xiven grabbed his head where he’d been boxed, his face beet red in embarrassment. But he turned stiffly and eyed the door that separated the machine from his current room. “Do you think that I could see—?”


Talbot jumped up from his chair and lunged toward Xiven, who backed out of the door and scrambled up the hidden passageway to the exit. Talbot left his notes and journals on the table. He looked around to make sure no one was watching before he picked up the queen’s silver mask, attached it to his portly face, and then entered the room where I still lay passed out on the machine.


He walked over to the table and loomed over me.


I was once again barely conscious on the table in the laboratory. But my dream self could see and hear everything. Talbot walked behind me and mumbled something incoherent. It looked like someone was sleeping in a small metal chair to the right of me.


Talbot let out a few choice words when he noticed she wasn’t moving. He leaned out in the hall and yelled for Scar Lip, who came walking in wearing his leather butcher’s apron. “Scar Lip, we’ve got one still drugged and another that didn’t make it, but at least her gifts won’t go unused.”


“Oh, and one more thing. Since the Valdyrstal girl is still unconscious, see if you can get the others to bring that young man in again for another donation to our main girl here. He’s a fighter that one. I’m sure he is gifted somehow, if only I can pinpoint his family line and gifts. What the others won’t know won’t hurt anyone.”


Scar lip went over and gently picked up the dead girl and began to take her out. Her head flopped back and I could see her face clearly. My nightmare continued because I recognized her. I was confused. It didn’t make sense. I couldn’t have been there that night. I would have remembered if Scar Lip came back for me. Wouldn’t I?


I must not have, because Scar Lip carried Cammie, my former cell mate, away from me, out of the room. Ten minutes later, he returned and with more Septori and a drugged Kael. Hours later they deposited us both back to our cells. I was laid unconscious, back on the cell floor, and Scar Lip locked the door.


Half a day later, I awoke to a tin plate being shoved under my door through a flap and demanded to know where Cammie was.


Chapter 33


“Gah!” I screamed and opened my eyes. My heart beat incredibly fast, but my body felt alive and on fire. Sevril stood back from me and looked at me warily through the bars.


“Thalia?” he asked carefully.


“Yes?” I licked my lips, which felt swollen and cracked.


“Are you okay?”


“No. Yes! I’m sore but I feel alive. I’m alive right?”


Sevril’s eyes were red and swollen from crying, but he nodded yes. He began to pull out the needles carefully and cover each of the large red wounds with a bandage. When he was done, he lifted up the metal bands and helped me out of the machine. His gaze kept shifting to my hair and then looking back to my face.


“What is it?”


“It’s turned white. Your hair I mean. Completely white.”


I groaned but pushed my vanity aside. My feet gingerly touched the ground and I asked him about Xiven. Sevril refused to make eye contact with me and I had to ask again.


“Where’s Xiven?” I demanded.


Prince Sevril’s eyes filled with tears again, but he took a deep breath and answered. “It was his choice from the beginning. It was his way to make amends. You mustn’t blame him or me. If I had a choice I would have been the one to make the ultimate sacrifice, but I wasn’t the right type. You needed a Denai.”


My voice started to crack and rise in alarm. “Sevril, what did you do?”


“I didn’t do anything,” he whispered. “You did. You needed a Denai to balance the Siren. You are now fully both. He knew the risks; he knew that you would need every ounce after being turned to Siren. It’s okay. He understood.”


I couldn’t turn around. Every fiber of my being said Don’t look. Don’t look. But I had too. I had to see if it was the same as my dream.


I did look. Just like my dream, Xiven was on the small cot next to me. The extra tubes from my arm connected to him. When the Siren side had been about to overtake me, he sacrificed his gifts. The love and peace natural to a Denai helped balance the anger and fury of a Siren. He was the ice to my fire.


Fresh tears poured anew down my face and my eyes burned like sandpaper. Xiven lay curled up on his side, his head nestled on his free hand, while the other was on his hip. He rested peacefully as if he were asleep. But I knew better. Power was a balance. To try and be a donor to me was too much for him. It drained him. Xiven could have chosen to stop at any time, but he pushed through. He fought until he knew I had made the transformation.


“Xiven…not you.” I sniffed. The emotions I felt were so raw, so powerful. And the vivid image of Talbot beating Xiven made me furious. He was as much a victim as me in the whole twisted plan.


But he had found redemption.


“I will not forget you.” I stood up and my wiped my tears on my arms. Sevril came forward and watched me, a question in his eyes. No words can express the sorrow we felt, and when he opened his arms, I didn’t hesitate. I leaned over for a hug and cried my heart out. Sevril cried as well, and we took comfort in each other’s pain.


A loud crash startled us, and we looked up in terror. They had found the hidden door. The enemy was coming for us.


“Thalia, how…are you…can you?” Sevril took a few hesitant steps back and watched me expectantly.


My head hurt. It was hard to concentrate. My body ached all over and I just wanted to close my eyes and sleep. I was weak, like a newborn child. I was in no condition to save anyone. I tried to step forward to meet him but I couldn’t. I crashed into the wooden table bruising my hip.


“Oh no! We have to get you out of here until you have time to recover,” Sevril grabbed for my arm and pulled it around his shoulders. Footsteps sounded on the stairs, so much closer than before. He hurried and dragged me across the room toward another smaller door hidden in the floor under a rug. I stood propped against the wall while Sevril struggled, pulling on the ring in the stone block.

Tags: Chanda Hahn Iron Butterfly Fantasy
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