Sapient Salvation 2: The Awakening (Sapient Salvation Series) Read online

  Calvin reached for the blanket and then nodded at the chair. “Please sit down and we will escort you to your destination.”

  I stepped onto one footrest and turned to sit down in the chair. It was surprisingly comfortable for something that lacked any cushion. Calvin unfurled the blanket with a shake and spread it over my legs. Smiling at his kind gesture, I leaned forward so he could tuck two of the corners behind me, securing the blanket in place. I reached for the shawl on either side and pulled it around my shoulders, trying not to let the guards surrounding me make me feel self-conscious.

  Calvin took the lead, and the other two guards positioned themselves behind me, one at each of my shoulders. When Calvin began to move forward, I expected the two guards behind to push the chair, which I assumed was supported on hidden casters. Instead, the chair bumped gently and then began moving forward on its own. Its motion was so smooth, it seemed as if it floated on a pillow of air.

  I glanced at the doors of the other Obligates’ rooms as we passed them. Had they been told why the next Tournament challenge was delayed? I hoped they would get a chance to escape their rooms and move around a bit.

  My eyebrows drew together in a small frown. Perhaps Lord Toric was meeting with each of them today, too. I’d assumed my invitation was special because, well . . . because he’d kissed me, and when he’d told me that he needed me to win, his words had seemed charged with passion. But maybe I was wrong. Perhaps this meeting was nothing more than a formality. I mentally re-read the note he’d sent. It wasn’t formal, but it wasn’t particularly personal, either, though it had been sent via a tablet that required my fingerprint to make the message appear. And the doctor had said that only confidential messages were sent that way. There would be no need to keep confidential anything related to the Tournament.

  I heaved an exasperated sigh, and Calvin flicked a look over his shoulder. I pasted on a smile, but inside I was scolding myself. In a few minutes I could just ask the alien Lord if he was meeting with the others as well.

  Somewhat assuaged by the thought that I’d have an answer soon, I forced my attention outward. Calistan servants stared at me as we made our way through the palace corridors. I settled deeper into my chair, feeling suddenly weary as the initial excitement of Lord Toric’s invitation faded slightly.

  We took a lift up a few floors, and when we emerged, there were not just Calistan servants but others, too—nobles, perhaps. I had the sense that we’d entered a public area. Calvin sped up nearly to a jog, and my chair kept pace. When we moved into quieter corridors, he slowed back to his previous pace.

  A guard allowed us past a thick metal door and into a series of nearly-silent hallways with floors lined with opulent woven runners and ornate glass sconces on the walls.

  When we got on another lift that took us up two dozen floors, doubt began to grow in my mind. I’d expected Lord Toric’s garden to be behind the wall that I’d seen when I first came through the portal from Earthenfell. Perhaps it was on the rooftop instead?

  The lift doors opened, and I let out a small gasp. Lord Toric stood there, dressed in trousers and tunic that were a few shades darker than his aquamarine eyes. The color complimented the rich taupe of his skin and somehow made the whites of his eyes look even more pure.

  I braced my hands against the chair’s armrests, meaning to rise so I could curtsy.

  He held up a hand. “Remain seated and save your strength,” he said. Then he nodded at the guards, and all three of them turned and got back on the lift.

  The lift door closed, leaving me and the alien Lord alone in the small foyer.

  He stayed where he was, and the corners of his mouth slowly curved upward as his eyes locked unblinking on mine. I returned his smile, my cheeks heating under his penetrating gaze.

  “How are you feeling, Maya?” he asked, his voice low and warm.

  I shivered at the sound of my name on his tongue.

  “Tired, but a bit stronger than the last time we met, my Lord,” I said. “And I must thank you for delaying the challenge. I owe you my life.” My throat tightened suddenly as I realized it was true.

  He shook his head, his face falling a bit. “I wanted to do more. Five days was not my aim.”

  I swallowed. “Did she make it . . . difficult?”

  A corner of his mouth quirked in a wry, humorless half-smile. “Akantha makes everything difficult. But that is not your concern.”

  He approached and walked around behind me. I inhaled involuntarily when he bent at the waist, and I felt the faint whisper of his breath touch my ear as he fiddled with something on the back of my chair.

  He straightened and held out a small tablet, about the size of the one on which his message had arrived. He tapped it and it lit up.

  “This allows you to control the movement of the chair,” he said. He tilted the tablet toward me and showed me how to work the controls.

  When he offered me the tablet and I grasped it, he seemed to hold on to it a split-second longer than necessary, his eyes once again intent on mine.

  I licked my dry lips. “Thank you, my Lord.”

  “Let’s go outside.” He gestured to a nearby door. “I don’t want to tire you, but I thought some fresh air might do you good. And I have something for you.”

  He went ahead of me and pushed open the door, stepping out into the cheery yellow light of the day to hold the door open. I used the tablet to steer my chair, and followed him.

  When I crossed the threshold, the gentle heat of the sun—two suns, actually—nearly brought tears to my eyes. I looked around, taking in the little pebble pathways that trailed through too many different types of plants and flowers to count. A stone fountain tinkled off to the left, and the long drooping branches of a miniature willow tree stirred in the breeze to the right.

  For a moment I was frozen, soaking up the loveliness of the setting. When I finally found my voice, I turned to him. “This is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.”

  “One of my favorite spots,” he said, his gaze sweeping the garden.

  “It’s so much more than just a garden,” I said. I steered my chair forward a few feet. “It’s more like a little oasis. I could almost imagine living here.” I inhaled deeply. “But I don’t smell any flowers?”

  “That’s because these are all replicas.” His voice flattened somewhat.

  I glanced up quickly to see a wistful look pass over his eyes.

  “None of this is real?”

  He shook his head. “We’re forbidden from cultivating Earthen flora on Calisto.”

  Forbidden? But surely as Lord he could do so. I nearly asked the question when the answer came to me: the sacred texts.

  Sadness suddenly washed over me. Even with all his power, Lord Toric had never experienced firsthand something as simple as picking a bergamine from a tree. Unexpected gratitude for my life on Earthenfell bloomed around my heart.

  “I wish I could show you where I worked and lived,” I said, my words wavering a bit. “Nearly every day, I worked outside. In the spring, we cultivated the soil and planted new crops. From summer until well past the first freeze, I picked fruit in the orchards. Only for two months in the winter was I forced inside. It was . . . a gift, I realize now.”

  Lord Toric’s lips trembled a bit and his jaw tightened as he swallowed and then cleared his throat. “It was a gift. Earthenfell is the supreme gift of gifts, and I love that you have such appreciation for it.” His voice was thick with emotion. He tilted his head, his eyes searching my face. “It’s ironic, isn’t it? That I’ve never been there. That I may never get the chance to see it myself.”

  “I was just thinking that very thing,” I said.

  It was odd to realize that the alien Lord, the man I’d thought of my entire life as the most powerful being in the universe, could not have that one simple thing. The thing that I’d been born into and enjoyed every day of my life until recently.

  The pain in his eyes was stirring too many memori
es of home, and I had to look away. “But this is very beautiful. Calisto must have many very talented artists and sculptors to make such exquisite replicas.”

  “They are quite remarkable, aren’t they?” Lord Toric beckoned me to follow him and started toward the weeping willow.

  I moved my chair right next to where he stood. He gently grasped one of the trailing branches and held it out to me. “Touch it.”

  I ran my fingers over the leaves and felt the texture of the thin bark on the branch. “Truly remarkable,” I said. But again, sadness welled up in my chest.

  He let go of the branch and half turned to draw my attention to something nearby. “I ordered something special for you.” He was pointing at a food and drink service cart that I hadn’t noticed until he directed my attention to it.

  I glanced up at him in question.

  “We are able to grow some medicinal plants that are native to Calisto,” he said. “Some of them are used in teas, and with Dr. Liev’s guidance I ordered a special formulation just for you.”

  A pleased smile bloomed over my face. “That was incredibly thoughtful of you.”

  He walked to the cart, and I moved next to him, finally confident that I could steer the chair near him without running into his shin or ending up in a shrub.

  He poured liquid from a crystal tea pot into a simple white mug and handed it to me. My heart thumped hard in my chest when his fingers brushed mine as I took the mug, and my cheeks warmed. Suddenly self-conscious, I looked down into the mug, hiding my eyes.

  The liquid was a pale violet-pink, the watercolor hue of the Earthen sky at twilight. I inhaled the steam rising from the surface—floral with a metallic undertone. “It certainly smells better than the tisanes and medicinal infusions I’ve had.”

  “It’s a fortifying blend,” Lord Toric said. “Nothing miraculous, of course, but I thought it might help your recovery.”

  I blew into the mug and then took a tentative sip. The blend of flavors that spread over my tongue was complex and rich, like a fine perfume or expensive wine. I sipped again, closing my eyes to savor it.

  “It’s divine. And if it makes me well, all the better.” I opened my eyes and met his steady gaze. “Thank you again, my Lord.”

  “You’re welcome, Maya.”

  The sound of my name seemed to hang in the air between us. I couldn’t explain it, but it was almost as if his pronouncement of my name was an invisible ethereal filament that stretched from his lips straight into my heart.

  My breath came a little faster as I was suddenly aware of the faint pulsing of the implant at the base of my skull. A heated, vibrating sensation spread through the rest of my body, and it was at once thrilling and frightening as the overpowering urge to rise and throw myself into his arms surged through me.

  I blinked hard, and when I opened my eyes, the sensations lessened in intensity.

  I took another sip of tea and Lord Toric settled on one of the two chairs nearby. He crossed one ankle over the other knee and rested his hands, with his fingers loosely intertwined, at his waist. His posture was relaxed, but his aquamarine eyes were bright and intent.

  “May I ask you something personal, my Lord?” I said.

  He nodded once, a faint smile playing over his lips. “Sure. Though I cannot guarantee I will be free to answer.”

  “Fair enough.” I drew a deep breath. “Is it your forced exile from Earthenfell that causes you such deep pain?”

  His face tightened, and my stomach twisted in response. I knew my question probed something very personal, but I couldn’t help wanting to know more about him. Wanting to understand the haunted shadow that always lurked behind his eyes.

  His face released a bit, and I resumed breathing. “That is a source of deep spiritual pain for me and for all Calistans,” he said, his gaze cast down at a spot on the ground between us.

  I tilted my head to the side, regarding him. “Forgive me, my Lord. I can’t help noticing that your response was neither yes nor no.”

  A corner of his mouth twitched, and his eyes sparked with amusement as they rose to my face. “Fair enough,” he said, echoing my earlier phrase.

  He paused for so long, I began to think he did not intend to give me an answer.

  “I was taken when I was a boy,” he finally said. “One of our enemies kidnapped me and held me captive for nearly four years. I was eleven when I was taken. My captors tortured me nearly every day for the duration of my imprisonment.”

  I could tell he was trying to control his voice, to keep it steady, but emotions I couldn’t quite identify were leaking through. Or maybe it was my own shock that prevented me from reading them. My lips parted and my chin began to tremble. Tears welled in my eyes.

  The haunted shadows in his eyes had moved to the forefront. When he looked at me, it felt as though it was from an immense distance.

  “Lord Toric, I . . . I truly can’t imagine how you survived.” A tear slipped down my cheek, and I brushed it away.

  His focus seemed to come back to the present, and he gave me a look that was almost sympathetic. “This is new to you, but it is not to me. It was quite some time ago, and I’ve learned to live with it.”

  I shook my head. “Still, for a boy to endure such a thing . . . I can’t tell you how much it saddens me—pains me—to know that you carry such scars.”

  To my surprise, he smiled—a small smile, but a genuine one. “Most people say ‘I’m sorry’ when they learn of someone’s personal tragedy. I very much appreciate that your response completely deviated from that generic and rather stupid sentiment.”

  I gave a small laugh and shook my head again. “I don’t know what to say to that, my Lord. But you didn’t have to reveal something so personal. I know there’s a cost to doing so, and I thank you for your candor and trust.”

  Guessing that he preferred a shift to a different topic of conversation, I glanced around. “Do you come here often?”

  “Not as often as I’d like.”

  “It seems that we’re very high up.” I could tell we were on some sort of balcony or terrace but couldn’t catch any glimpse of the view beyond the thick foliage.

  “We are; there are only a handful of floors above us.”

  “Have you ever watched a sunset from here?” I asked.

  “Once or twice,” he said. “Would you like that?”

  “When I was on my way to the portal, when I left Earthenfell, I wondered whether I would ever see another sunset,” I said. “When I first arrived here, it was just in time to see the sun—well, one of your suns—go down. It was beautiful, and it brought me a moment of comfort. It . . . meant a lot to me. Perhaps that sounds silly.”

  “Not at all.” He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees and resting his chin on one fist. I’d never seen him so relaxed, in such repose. It made him seem more real, closer to me somehow. “I will make arrangements for you to come here to see a sunset.”

  A warm burst of pleasure spread through me at the thought. But I gripped the mug in both hands, trying to summon up courage. “I do not wish to see it unless you will be there too, my Lord.”

  He chuckled and his eyes sparkled. “I wouldn’t wish that either.”

  I allowed myself a tiny laugh, too.

  He reached for the tea pot and stretched it out toward me, indicating I should hold my mug for him to refill.

  “How goes the war against the enemies?” I asked.

  He looked up quickly, his eyes narrowing for a split second. He didn’t respond right away, and his brow furrowed as if he were carefully considering his response. “Actually, we have scored massive victories recently. Unprecedented victories.”

  My brows lifted and my lips parted in surprise. “Really?” I breathed. “Are you . . . is the Return a possibility?” I hesitated to ask, unsure if he would see it as improper for an Obligate to speak of such a thing.

  His eyes gleamed. “A greater possibility than it ever has been, yes. But the c
oming months and weeks will tell us if this is a fluke or the start of true momentum to the final defeat of our enemies.”

  My pulse raced at the thought. Should I dare even hope that I might get to return to Earthenfell? I blinked hard, my balance suddenly knocked off-kilter. The Return would have no relevance for me unless I won the Tournament. I had to keep focused on the very few things somewhat in my control.

  “My Lord, I have another question for you.” I waited for him to nod. “Are you at liberty to tell me what Akantha demanded in return for delaying the next challenge of the Tournament?”

  My heart tripped with dread at the thought of the Tournament and with the knowledge of how weak I still felt.

  He lifted one shoulder and made a dismissive wave of one hand. “She asked that I support an announcement she’s going to make. Please don’t worry over that. It’s nothing to concern yourself about.”

  Despite his nonchalant answer, a chill crept through me. The sense that I should have felt concern about Akantha’s actions—that they were indeed tied to my own fate in more ways than I could pinpoint—made my heart lurch uncomfortably.

  Lord Toric topped off my mug and then led me around the garden on a little tour.

  All too soon, I could tell by a subtle shift in his manner that his time with me had run out, and he had to move on to other duties.

  “Lord Toric, I apologize for my inquisitiveness, but I must ask you one more thing.”

  He raised his brows with a look of mild amusement and lifted a hand, indicating that I should speak what was on my mind.

  “Are you meeting with the other Obligates as well?”

  He went very still for a moment and then slowly lifted a hand. He brushed a lock of hair from my cheek, and his fingertips lingered against my skin, sending sparks dancing around inside me.

  He shook his head. “No. You are the only one I wish to see, Maya.”

  It was all I could do not to lean into his touch and let a moan escape from my lips. I closed my eyes briefly and then smiled up at him, unable to put to words the emotions that rushed through me.