“Princess Shilah?” a familiar voice whispered, emotions roughing the tone.
Glancing up, she watched as the gatekeeper, Herron, used his telekinesis to weave back the barrier in place, shutting away the shimmering effect of the portal. He stared at her as if he’d conjured her, before scrubbing a hand over his face, and quickly bending his knee to the stone ground.
“Please stand, Herron,” she said, unfamiliar emotions tearing through her.
He rose, his mahogany brown eyes shimmering with so many emotions. “I’ve long hoped you would return to us, Princess Shilah, Princess Kala. The statues have been raised for you both. I…we…I am delighted you are both here.”
The honorary statues were only erected after a prince or princess has been declared dead. She carefully brushed against the psychic network of her people. Shilah wanted to weep at the aura surrounding the wall of their connection. It was a deep purple, which hinted at the unrelenting pain. They mourned her, and they mourned Kala. Shilah did not want to risk going deeper if traitors lingered within the network seeking the pathway to her and Kala.
“Do I have your loyalty, Herron?” Shilah asked softly, her gaze darting around the underground cave. They were deep within the mountain trails, leading to the network of the caves. Few knew of the location, but surely Prince Quan would set spies in the mountains and at the portal. She flared her telepathy and sensed no other aura for miles.
“Always, Princess Shilah,” he hurriedly assured her.
And from his thoughts, she gleaned his honesty. Even though she had known of his love and fidelity to her family, she had to check. His family had pledged fealty to her house when her father had granted a group of Arcadians refuge from political unrest which had broken out in their kingdom. To please the purists in Dxyriah, all the refugees and their descendants who chose to remain within the territory had to be registered and were required to bear a mark on their foreheads. It had been Herron who had helped them escape to Amagarie after swearing an oath to not reveal where they had fled to. But much could have changed within the last few months.
“Rah Blevinstoke has been relentlessly searching for you, Princess Shilah. He bid me to direct you to his location should you resurface. I did not inform him of where you escaped with Princess Kala, but he seemed to be aware of it, and of your imminent return.”
Her stomach tightened. Rah had no doubt used a foreseer to try and find her, and she sensed he’d used Megladine, his great love whom he could not marry for she too was impure. Rah had been a friend of her father, a mentor to her and she trusted him. Yet she hesitated, hating that sense of mistrust she had for her people which had taken root and flowered since the betrayal at her coronation. “And what directive were you given?”
“To safeguard the portal till your return. And the Baron showed me a map, but I did not understand it, nor can I remember it.”
She walked over to him. “With your permission, Herron.”
“Most certainly, my princess.”
She delved deep into his mind, moving past his barriers sifting through his memories. She saw that the prince was persecuting Herron’s people as traitors and all who remained were in hiding. She pushed past his pain and anger and finally came to the map as he’d seen it. Shilah studied it, locating the marked networks of a cave deep underground her castle which led toward the Senate and was perilously close to her home. Unease filled her that he would choose to meet so close to the enemy, for undoubtedly Prince Quan lived at castle Ashmir.
“Thank you, Herron,” she said, stepping back.
“Princess Shilah, for days our new…Prince Quan has had a hovercraft patrol these parts of the mountains. Many whispered that you fled the realm and would return to your rightful place. I believe these whispers have also reached his ears.”
“Thank you for the warning, I already suspected the prince might be vigilant. These caves are my home, and Prince Quan and his followers do not know them as I do. Please rest easy, Herron, I will be cautious.”
Questions swirled in his gaze, but he bowed deferentially. Kala who had stood silently during their exchange walked over to him and enfolded him in a hug. She whispered in his ears softly, telling him of a future she saw, a wife that would bring him great happiness and children.
Herron closed his eyes, and hope burned his aura bright yellow.
Kala released him and hurried over. Drawing her sister close, Shilah made her way deep underground the cavern, skirting past large crystal stalactites, and going deeper. She’d missed her home and her people. But she missed Lachlan Ravenswood with such intensity it bordered on pain.
“I am still in disbelief we are home,” Kala said, a smile on her lips but a vein of fear in her tone.
“I too am pleased, Kala.”
“You mourn him,” her sister said with a gasp of surprise.
Shilah paused. “Who?” Though she full well knew her sister spoke of Lachlan Ravenswood.
“You will deny it, but I see visions of you curled on your bed, screaming your tears and sorrow into your pillow. Oh, Shilah, I never realized you had such feelings for him!”
Kala’s arms were suddenly around her, holding her tight as Shilah returned her embrace, wrapping her arms around her sister comfortingly.
“You made the right choice, and I promise you the pain of walking away from him will pass.”
Relief pierced Shilah. “You’ve seen it?”
Kala stiffened but made no reply. Shilah brushed against her mind, absorbing the images of her staring listlessly above her kingdom as snow blanketed their streets and buildings. She released her sister, and stepped back, pasting a forced smile on her lips.
“So, in eight months’ time with the arrival of winter, I will still be mourning him.” The pain of it almost felled her, and she knew then, a part of her would hunger for him always.