McClellan Sharron - The Given.txt Page 3

  passion devoured her like a wild animal took its prey.

  Would it never end? Her thoughts expanded, and the forces

  of Trancing began building inside her with each stroke.

  Each breath, each touch, assailed her thoughts. Pressure

  in her mind, as well as her body, clamored for release.

  Like a dam collapsing with the weight of the water

  behind it, her passion shattered both her mind shield and

  Talon’s. Their thoughts meshed, and Aria clung to him as

  his sensations overwhelmed her.

  Shock. Shock and alarm at her intrusion. Talon’s split-

  second of fear raced through Aria, and she felt her heart

  would stop.

  It did not. Instead, Talon’s shock changed.

  Transformed to interest and a burning curiosity of the

  forbidden. A desire to know more. To know her.

  It was all the encouragement Aria needed, and she

  flowed into him, past thoughts and past reality, until she

  was so deep inside him that she lost herself.

  A flash of blades. His first kiss. Searing pain. Honor

  duty, shame, and laughter. It was all there, a lifetime of

  experience and emotion, overpowering her and filling her.

  She took it in like a starving child takes a loaf of bread.

  She lived his wants, desires, and needs.

  And he lived hers. He felt the pain when her family

  abandoned her. He tasted her fear of her gift, heard her

  cries when she wept alone at night. He felt it all, lived it,

  and with a Warrior’s strength, bound her emotional

  wounds with his soul.

  He healed her and was healed.

  For a brief moment, a heartbeat in an infinite number

  of heartbeats, they were the same. There was no beginning

  and there was no end as they joined and release took them,

  binding their souls.

  It was less than paradise and more than life, and Aria

  knew neither of them would ever be the same.

  Then, the emotional bond slipped, dissolving like

  smoke in the wind.

  Talon rolled away, physically separating himself from

  Aria, but not before she felt one last emotion.

  Shame.

  Talon felt shame and dishonor for what they had done.

  She wanted to cry. She did not. She could not, because

  there was no shame in her heart. What had happened

  was right. She felt it in her bones.

  The morning shadows moved across the floor, as they

  lay apart, absorbing what happened.

  “What should we do now?” Talon raised himself up on

  his elbows, his squared jaw rigid with barely restrained

  anger. Aria knew it was not directed at her, but at himself.

  She shook her head. “I am not sure. I have heard of a

  true joining spoken of only in whispers. I have never heard

  of it happening.”

  Trancers were not supposed to delve into their lover’s

  psyche, and an experienced Trancer would not have done

  so, even inadvertently. But she was inexperienced. She

  was a novice, and that was why the Elders chose the

  Warriors to serve as Givers. A Warrior’s mental shielding

  was inborn and kept out Trancers or anyone who would

  know their thoughts.

  Yet, somehow, she had managed to break through

  Talon’s shield.

  And he had let her.

  “We must forget we joined.” Talon sat up, his head in

  his hands. “We must pretend it never happened.”

  Aria took a deep breath. “It is too late,” she whispered.

  Honor demanded that she show him the proof. Rising to

  her knees next to him, she raised her eyes to his and

  watched for his reaction.

  It was immediate. “Your eyes. What happened to your

  eyes?”

  “Have you heard the stories?”

  “Of course, but they are stories.”

  “No, they are true.” She did not need a mirror to see

  that her once pale green eyes had darkened and were now

  the color of the heart of the forest. “If a Trancer binds her

  soul with another, her eyes go through the change,

  reflecting the depth of the union. Green becomes deep

  forest and blue becomes night.”

  Talon touched her cheek, tracing it with a fingertip.

  His look spoke of disbelief. “If we are truly bound, if I have

  a piece of your soul, do you have a piece of mine?”

  “Yes.”

  He withdrew his hand, and she saw the impact of her

  words strike home as his eyes clouded with wariness. “Do

  you know everything about me? Where I came from? Who

  I am?”

  “No, only images, pieces really, of your life,” she said,

  knowing any explanation would be awkward and unclear

  but also knowing she had to try. “Mostly, I felt you as you

  did me. Your emotions. The things—” She hesitated,

  struggling to make herself clear. “The places in your soul

  that make you a good man.”

  Her heart fell at seeing his eyes cloud further.

  “You had no right. Could you not stop this binding?”

  “Not once started.” Aria bit her lower lip at the anger

  in his accusation. “It was not my intention to join with

  you, but it is done.”

  “Perhaps, but how can I accept it?” Swinging his legs

  over the edge of the bed, he bent to retrieve his clothes.

  Standing, he turned his back to her and dressed in silence.

  “Talon?”

  “Yes.” He yanked his tunic over his head.

  “I did not ask your acceptance. I ask for forgiveness.”

  She fought to keep her voice from breaking.

  “I am not angry with you. I am angry with myself for

  my own lack of strength. I should have stopped you, but I

  did not.” He faced her, his eyes bright with pain. “I

  welcomed you. I faltered in my duty.”

  Aria flinched at the cruel judgment he passed upon

  himself. “No. I refuse to believe there is fault in this, Talon.

  How can I when I carry you here?” She laid a hand on her

  breast. “To say there is fault is like cutting out a piece of

  my heart.”

  “You are young, and youth can be foolish. The bond

  you feel blinds you to the truth.”

  “And what truth is that? That we are not join—”

  Talon stopped her speech with a gentle finger against

  her lips. “I am a Warrior and live by a different code. On

  my honor, I swore to do you no harm, and I broke that

  vow with my negligence. I abandoned my duty and must

  pay for my actions.”

  Aria wrapped a bed cloth around her body and stood

  up, grasping Talon’s arm with her hands. “It is wrong if

  duty would punish you for my mistakes. Stay here with

  me, and we will speak with the Elders. I am sure they will

  understand and help.”

  “How? A joining cannot be undone. Perhaps they would

  ask the Council to forgive my lapse in judgment?” Talon

  shook his head. “You were in my mind. You know I will

  not forsake my honor to avoid punishment.”

  Aria dropped her hands from his body and turned

  away, not wanting him to see the sorrow in her eyes. She

  listened as he dressed, buckling his sword and pulling on

  his boots. She refused to turn and watch him as he walked

  to the door.

  His footsteps paused.

  “If you truly carry a piece of my soul, you know I will

  broach no more dishonor for either of us.”

  “There is no if. I carry your soul, as you carry mine.”

  His denial was unvoiced, but she thought she heard it

  in her mind. He probably hoped she would forget him,

  forget the joining, but she knew it would never happen.

  She would remember her time with him whenever she

  looked in a mirror and saw her own dark-eyed reflection

  looking back at her.

  “Good-bye.” The door closed behind him, swinging

  shut with a dull thud.

  She refused to cry. If he were strong enough to leave,

  then she would be strong enough to let him go.

  She walked across the room and onto the balcony that

  faced towards the water. Still in disarray from last night,

  her hair fluttered about her shoulders. She clutched the

  bed cloth closer and sat on the stone railing to watch Talon

  as he walked towards the boat where other Warriors

  waited.

  Perhaps he denied his heart, but she would not deny

  hers. If only he had considered staying, she might have

  told him the other reason for her physical change.

  But he had not, and she could not.

  She placed a hand on her flat belly and knew that

  soon it would grow rounded.

  Trancer’s eyes also darkened when new life began.

  Two

  He had not come back. Again.

  From a window high ab
ove, Aria watched in silence as

  a group of Warriors departed and wondered if Talon stayed

  away because of her. Three seasons and three Given

  ceremonies had passed since she last saw him. Three

  seasons since she had turned from him in anger and

  misunderstanding. Three seasons since she had watched

  him leave.

  Three seasons of regret.

  Misery rolled over her like a water-laden blanket, and

  the surrounding currents of life shifted to reflect her bleak

  thoughts. Pain and loss dominated the flow, dragging her

  deeper into regret. With a mental ‘oomph,’ she blocked

  her mind. She did not need the currents to remind her

  how foolish she had acted.

  She should have said good-bye. She owed Talon that

  much. They were joined. With a sigh, she turned away

  from the window and the sight of the festivities below and

  pressed her hand against her child-swollen belly.

  The baby kicked. At least she carried a part of Talon

  within and, so, kept a piece of him close. A tiny light to

  fight the dark. She had not lost everything. She had their

  son, Tarik.

  She wondered what Talon would say, what he would

  think, if he knew she carried his son. Would he have

  returned?

  She knew the answer. Despite the Warrior code of never

  knowing their blood, he would have returned. And in doing

  so, given up all that he was and all that he had worked

  for.

  He might forgive her if he did, but he would never

  forgive himself, and she could not permit that.

  Cumbersome with her protruding belly, Aria moved

  over to the wooden table that occupied the middle of the

  room. One hand supporting the small of her back, she

  began sorting through the herbs, scented oils, and candles

  that took up one end. There were many, and all stood in

  wait for use in the birthing of her son.

  “Everything is still there.”

  Startled, Aria turned, her gown swirling around her

  ankles. Iliana stood in the doorway, watching her.

  “I know. I just wanted to make sure.”

  Smiling, Iliana crossed the room, picked up a bottle

  of pale yellow oil, opened the stopper, sniffed it, and then

  pulled away in disgust. “That smells like the stables after

  a long rain. What is it for?”

  “If I lose consciousness during childbirth, this will

  bring me back.” Aria took the bottle from her friend, put

  the stopper back in, and set the vial back down on the

  wooden surface.

  “If only to get away from the stench.” Iliana wrinkled

  her nose again.

  Aria chuckled. She had not realized how much she

  had missed Iliana until just this moment. She embraced

  her. “I am glad you are here.”

  Iliana returned the hold. “I am sorry I have not been

  able to see you more.” Pulling back, she held Aria out at

  arm’s length. “Look how big the babe has grown.”

  Aria turned from side to side. “He is getting bigger, is

  he not?”

  Her friend nodded and drew Aria over to a small couch

  covered with soft pillows. “Come, tell me how your time

  goes. Have you kept busy?”

  Aria sat next to her friend and shrugged. “What can I

  do? The Healer worries about my health. I walk, I eat, and

  I prepare for the babe. She refuses to let me do anything

  else.”

  Iliana reached over and took Aria’s hand in hers. “She

  has cause for concern. You are as pale as parchment and,

  with the exception of the babe, as thin as a reed. If he

  were not as large as a melon, I would not even think you

  carried a child within.”

  Aria flushed. “Do you think I neglect my child?”

  Iliana’s eyes opened wide, and she drew back. “No. I

  think you neglect yourself. I worry that you will waste

  away after the babe is born, if not before.”

  Aria took a deep breath and stopped herself before a

  harsh retort tripped off her tongue. Her anger was not

  with Iliana or the Healer. Her anger was at herself for her

  own physical weakness.

  Her father’s voice echoed through her mind, telling

  her how useless she was. She still felt his hatred and anger

  for her being the eldest and a girl.

  Just the opposite, Iliana’s love shone like a beacon of

  hope, breaking through the painful memories and

  banishing them. How could she doubt her friend’s

  intentions, even for a moment? Iliana offered her friendship

  like a child offers trust—with no strings or conditions.

  It was more than her family had ever offered.

  Aria smoothed her hair with a nervous gesture. “I am

  sorry. I find myself out of sorts and impatient now that

  the babe is so near to birth. Please forgive my impulsive

  words.”

  Iliana waved the apology away with a laugh. “They

  say women who are with child are sometimes

  unreasonable.”

  Aria’s brow rose. “I am glad to see you still possess a

  sense of humor.”

  Iliana’s smile faded. “Since you so rarely find lightness

  anymore, I try to have enough for us both.”

  Aria opened her mouth to reply but found no words.

  Instead, she stood and went back to the table, not wanting

  her friend to see the truth of her perceptions. “Tell me

  how training goes.” Eyes focused downward, she lined the

  glass jars into a neat row. “I hear that being an Apprentice

  is much more demanding than being a Maiden. Is it true?”

  “I take it you do not want to discuss what is bothering

  you?”

  “I cannot,” Aria replied, wishing Iliana would accept

  the change in subject. She moved the bowls of herbs,

  grouping them neatly together.

  “Do you distrust me?”

  Aria shook her head. “No. You are my greatest friend,

  but I fear that if I spoke, you would feel compelled to tell

  the Elders. I cannot put you in such a position. Our

  friendship means too much to me. You mean too much to

  me. I would not risk this.”

  Iliana rose from the couch, joined Aria at the table,

  and began to move the bottles and jars back to their

  original positions. Picking up a box of dried petals she

  sniffed, this time smiling before she put it down. “It gives

  me great joy to hear that our friendship means as much

  to you as it does to me.”

  Aria warmed at the words.

  Iliana continued. “You can tell me anything, and I will

  keep silent. I was raised in the Tower, but my upbringing

  does not make me any less compassionate or

  understanding. It does not make me any less your friend.

  Please, believe me.”

  Aria nodded. “I do believe you.” Her hands moved up

  her arms, holding herself still. “You are as close as my

  sister, but please, for now, let my thoughts be my own.

  Later, when the memories are less painful, I can answer

  all your questions.”

  “I understand.” Iliana’s voice softened, and she

  focused her gaze on the table before her. “I fear your aching

  soul drains your energy, but I will wait until you are ready

  to speak.”

  Looking up, she brightened. “Do you really want to

  hear about my Apprentice training? I can tell you what to

  expect when you join us.”

  “Please,” Aria said, grateful for the change in topic. “I

  am hungry for news.”

  “You heard correctly. It is difficult. We spend much

  time learning to read the nuances of the currents of life.”

  Her hands gestured in the air around her. “The Elders

  say that only when we can tell a sob from a wail, and a

  want from a need, can we move up in status.”

  Aria grimaced. “I shall have much to learn to catch up

  to you. I can only feel strong emotions and the obvious.

  Nuances, I fear, are hidden to me.”

  “You will learn. Besides, I overheard one of the Elders