“How?” he asks coldly, drawing the sheet back up and covering his father’s chest.
King Zander grimaces and angles his body towards Keane, attempting to smile at his son.
“It doesn’t matter right now,” he replies, his voice hoarse, “I need the two of you.”
“Father,” Troy’s voice calls from the other side of the bed in warning. He glances at me with a hard frown and then stands up to walk next to Keane.
“I’ve already told you, son,” Zander whispers painfully, “I need to speak with Keane and Alex.Privately.”
Golem pulls on my arm just as Troy shakes his head, his voice stern. “That is not going to happen.”
The look the King gives his son sends a shiver down my spine. It’s beyond anything I’ve ever seen from Zander, and in that moment I feel for Troy. I feel for his hurt and the knowledge that he’ll have to leave his father’s side, feel for the way Keane sends him a look, willing to remove him by force if necessary.
“Take your mother,” Zander stares at his son in hard determination, “stay with her. This won’t be long.”
Keane moves quietly from his father’s side as Troy stays put, angrily assessing his father’s request. The Queen trembles from her chair and attempts to pull herself up, but Keane is by her side in an instant and lifting her hands into his.
“Troy,” she says quietly, her cool gaze peering at her son in sadness, “let’s give them a moment.”
Troy flexes his shoulders, still watching his father, then turns around with a hatred in his face as he looks at his mother. She extends her hand out to him, still shaking with silent tears, and waits for Troy to take her in his arms. She gives Zander a look before Troy draws her away, more tears streaming down her cheeks when Zander nods encouragingly.
My heart breaks in anguish.
Golem pulls on my arm again as the Queen and Prince begin walking towards the door, both sets of cool blue eyes greeting mine on their way out. I shiver at the look of animosity and curiousness piercing my soul, then turn away from both to look back in the room.
Keane is striding towards me, lifting a hand out just as the door shuts behind us. I remain routed in my stance, trembling in bewilderment, but Golem gently lifts his arm from mine and places my hand in Keane’s. Stormfall flies off my shoulder just as Keane gives me a small nod, tugging me towards his father as the two of us walk hand in hand.
King Zander looks at us both when we approach. There’s love and approval in his eyes, but there’s also a deep sadness that nearly breaks my heart again. He smiles and attempts to push himself higher in the bed once more, ignoring the pain in his body as he situates his back against the headboard. Keane quickly releases my hand and moves to help his father, grabbing his shoulders and lifting him up before reaching for a pillow and making him as comfortable as possible. The King nods to his son and then looks back at me, his blue eyes holding mine with the same kindness I’ve experienced for the past ten years.
Zander glances down to the side of his bed, willing us both to take a seat with him. I glance hesitatingly at Keane and let him take my handagain, the two of us moving closer as the King’s eyes once again fall to our grasp. A genuine smile graces his lips before he sighs, his chin jutting to the side of the bed once again in demand.
“I need to tell you both the full story,” he grimaces, pulling his hands out from under the sheets and angling them towards us, “I need toshowyou both the full story…”
Keane nods in understanding, reaching for his father’s hand as they both turn their gaze on me. I reach out slowly, trembling, and take the King’s hand in confusion.
“Forgive me, Alexis,” he breathes.
I shake my head to my King, watching as he closes his eyes. His hand holding ours squeezes hard before an intense and magical push enters my mind. The powerful summoning makes me gasp and close my eyes before a vision transfers to us all.
I watch as the sight of me at fourteen floods into my mind, my light grey clothes tattered and torn as I host a massive gash above my head. I’m crying and sobbing hysterically, but I’m wrapped in the arms of the Queen, the walls around the unknown room letting me know we’re in Castle Bardot…
Another vision replaces the first, this time of Elena in the King’s study as the two of them sit at the same mahogany desk that I graced with Desmond. She’s warning him of an importance that I will play in the Old World, though she never once mentions the book or the prophecy.
“In what fashion?” King Zander asks his daughter sternly, his hand reaching up to his temple.
“I don’t know yet,” Elena shakes her head, “but the human girl is special. We need to protect her…”
Another change of vision and I’m greeted with the sight of me still at fourteen, this time in a small but different room in the castle. I’m slightly cleaned up and in new clothes of Knowledge attire, but I’m still crying hysterically for my family, screaming at the King and the Discerni healers around me. I push at one of them as he lifts a hand to my face, his fingers reaching out to the gash on my forehead as he sets it to a quick heal. My younger self is scared,resentful, and I’m looking at all of the Discerni men in the room with a deep hatred…
The memory releases me just momentarily. I open my eyes and look at Zander and Keane, both of them still keeping their eyes closed and watching the same visions as me. Zander’s summoning enters my mind again, forcing me to close my eyes as I watch another vision of young me sitting at the foot of my bed. I’m in the current room I’ve held now for so long, but my youthful face is gaunt and thin, emotionless as I pull my knees up to my chest. Troy timidly walks into the room with a half-smile and takes a silent knee next to me, his whole demeanor wary but still exuding friendliness. I notice that he looks nearly the same as he does now, perhaps a year or two younger, his Discerni features not aging at all.
Zander’s voice comes steadily from behind him, walking through the arch of my reading room as he directs his son.
“Make her feel happy,content. She’ll live as a ward of your mother and I and will be treated well. She will enjoy her life here in Bardot. Her parents passed peacefully… she’ll think of them fondly but will not dwell on their deaths.”
Troy reaches a hand out to the younger memory of me, placing it on my shoulder as I watch myself become completely detached. The full being of me is harrowed and bleak, no longer crying or screaming or looking at the men with hatred. She’s just no longerthere…
I immediately pull myself out of Zander’s vision and fall to my knees in a sorrowful cry. Zander’s grip on my hand remains strong as he pushes another vision through our minds, certainly not done with his story.
