The Liberian

Chapter 51

“Are you all right?” she gasped, looking at his now-dim form.

He chuckled and nodded. “I closed my Channel. Keep watching.” He relaxed and unfurled his fingers. Derek snapped them closed into fists again and the white and gold flames returned.

“It’s magnificent,” she breathed. The complement earned her a faint smile. Halle looked down from his face and paused. “Derek ...” She murmured as her eyes focused on a dark spot. She’d seen it before in the garden, before she even knew about magical sight. Halle reached out a hand to touch him, stopping herself short. She shouldn’t be so forward; he was still the crown prince.

Derek knew what she saw. “The poison crystalized, rooting itself enough that I could not remove it. It was the best I could do.”

“It’s not letting your Channel work properly, is it?” Halle frowned, suddenly realizing what that dark spot meant.

“Exactly ...” His voice began to grow heavy. “That is why I could not protect you as I should have that night.” Derek paused. “Halle, it’s my fault.”

“What is?” Apprehension trailed its icy fingers up her spine.

He took her still hovering hand in both of his. “You should not have had to kill them. If I had been more capable, you would not have been forced to.” Emotion burned behind his eyes and it struck her clear as day. Channeling was a side-project for him. The main goal was the Night of Fire and Wind. He was playing the puppet master again, and Hardy was certainly helping.

“I don’t want to talk about it. Teach me Channeling or we’re done.” She wrenched her hand from his.

“I was fourteen,” he began, ignoring her. Her mouth was still twisted in annoyance. “The first time I killed a man.”

Her face relaxed.

“Looking back, I didn’t even have a good reason to kill him.”

Halle shifted closer to hear, his voice faint and his eyes glossy. He seemed to stare through the world around him.

“I was told that he was a bad man, that he was going to harm my family and his death would make us stronger.” Derek chuckled bitterly. “As if death makes anyone stronger ...”

The pressure of his gaze weighed on every inch of her body.

“I will never forget that in the end, he asked for mercy from his prince. He asked for forgiveness, and I gave him death.” Derek’s body was very still, and his eyes searched hers, yearning for something.

“Derek,” Halle whispered. She didn’t know what she could offer him. “I’m sorry.” She initiated contact, taking his hand in her own.

He didn’t pull away. “After that, the killing became easier. Soon, I forgot their faces, their cries, their stories. They merged into one communal grave in my mind, which became a gaping wound that everyone who perishes by my hand falls into. But I never forgot that first man’s face. I have tried to plunge him into that hollow void and push him away, but I have never forgotten.”

Halle stared at him in a mix of horror and pity. She squeezed his hand and was surprised when she felt a squeeze back.

“I see you taking steps down this path, and I don’t want you be lost to that darkness.” He laughed and bore the most unfiltered sorrow she had ever seen from him. “What is worse is, thanks to the extraordinary wisdom of the people’s Senate, I cannot protect you from that.”

“So, what do I do?” Halle finally sought guidance for her guilt.

“Never forget who you are, and do not let the dead define you.” He spoke as if he’d been reading her thoughts for weeks. “Talk to me or Fritz or Hardy. I do not think any of us are prepared to lose you to your demons.”She stared at him; she didn’t want to think about the Night of Fire and Wind. She wanted it to go away. He’d lured her into his den with his pretenses, and now she was the captive of his stares and touch. Halle closed her eyes and took a breath.

“Every night, I see them. I hear their screams and I feel their blood on my hands, on my face.” She shuddered as her voice broke and pulled her hand away from his to wrap her arms around herself. “At first I didn’t know what they were, but that night, in the forest, I remembered.” It seemed silly to her, to say she’d forgotten the first time she’d killed a person but her mind had been so efficient at pushing it away.

“I wish I could be better comfort to you,” he murmured softly. Derek leaned over and, with only his fingertips, he pushed aside some stray hair. They both seemed to catch their breath as his skin lightly brushed her face. He pulled away, his hand balling into a fist.

“You are,” she said quickly, earning herself a surprised stare.

“I am?” he repeated skeptically.

“I—” Halle stumbled over her words. “I am ... happier ... with you, near you.” Something about him softened, but there was a sadness to it that made Halle feel guilty for her confession.

“In any case.” He was back to avoiding her attentions. “My ear and my door are always open for you.”

“Thank you.” Halle wondered how many people he had offered that to. She couldn’t imagine it was many.

“For now though, we should make sure you know how to Channel.” Derek seemed as uncomfortable as she was and the moment—whatever it had been—vanished.

They set to work on what Halle discovered was the seemingly impossible task of Channeling. Halle saw shades of the phantom she had exchanged notes with months ago as he spoke volumes of knowledge worth of magical theory with deft ease. His silver tongue licked across her intellect, wetting her mental palate for new information.

But the willingness to learn and the practical execution were also much like he had told her months ago—it was harder to do than conceive. At her every attempt Derek instructed that she “only needed to find the magic within her” or “tap into her power.” But Halle felt like she was shooting for an unknown target in the dark.

By the time he fetched food, she found herself exhausted. Their conversation turned casual and Halle relaxed, absentmindedly consuming the meal before her. He made her sides split with laughter by telling her a story of when he taught his younger brother to ride a horse for the first time. Halle shared the first time she’d gone to help in the field but had ended up just playing in the mud for most of the day. He seemed to find it as shocking as he did amusing. For that brief hour the horrors she had seen, she had committed, didn’t matter.

Reality could not be escaped for long. The moment the food was finished, they returned to Channeling.

“I think it may be pointless,” Halle sighed, dropping her arms. She’d been waving them about like a fool trying to find the “essence of air.”

“There is one more thing that we could try, since you do not have the luxury of time,” Derek said thoughtfully after a long silence. “But it is not a conventional method. It is rather theoretical, actually.”

“Oh?” He knew what to say to make her insatiably curious.

“It is more on Bonding than Channeling.” He leaned forward. “Did you have a chance to read anything on Bonds before you left the Tower?”

“I couldn’t find much,” she replied.

“That is because there is not much,” Derek affirmed. “Bonding is a strange occurrence and difficult to understand because, to the best of every scholar’s assessments, it is the literal opening of a magic passage between two people. You opened your magic to me to save my life.”

Those words soaked into both of them for a moment.

“But, as they say, doors and gates open both ways,” Derek finished, easing that odd tension they flirted with every time they were together.

“Wait.” Halle blinked. “You’re saying I have some of your magic in me?”

“Not just some; it has the capacity to be a passage between us,” he affirmed.

“That’s amazing,” she whispered.

“That is why I do not think your magic is as effective against me as it is on others. It will not hit me as strong. Our own magic cannot hurt us.” He shook his head. “There are a number of interesting theories we could discuss and explore another time. For now, we are going to try Joining.”

“What is Joining?” she asked, braving a parrot comment.

“It is difficult to explain. Think of the Bond as a latent Channel. Joining will activate it, widen the Bond.” Derek leaned closer, and Halle’s heart beat hard. “This may not even work. But for it to have a chance—do not fight me.”

If Halle had wanted to, she couldn’t have. She was so stunned by his forward advances, by the fingers that lightly touched her temples, that she could barely speak. Derek’s eyes fluttered closed and he took a breath. She bit her lip, unsure if she was supposed to do the same. But if she didn’t, she would spend the time studying his sculpted features in the firelight—and she might die of embarrassment if caught.

So Halle closed her eyes as well.

At first, there was nothing. She heard her breathing and felt his hands on her. His fingertips warmed and then, faintly, she heard her heartbeat. No, she realized, it wasn’t her heartbeat, it was his. Her initial reaction was to panic at the sensation of another heart beating in her chest, but Halle forced herself to stay still and calm. Soon the chorus of sound extended to his breathing, overlaid on the noises of her own body. The din reached a crescendo that threatened to consume her awareness. But Halle remembered his words and she gave into it, into him, letting the wave crash upon her.

There was one inhale, one exhale, one heartbeat between them.

She melted into the strange warmth of the communal existence, relinquishing the last of her physical senses. It was unlike anything she had ever felt. Like life and death all bundled neatly into one moment of beauty. She tried to find where her own self ended, to find where he began, but there were no ends or beginnings anywhere. They were infinite.

She felt as he felt, and he thought as she thought.

Suddenly there was a warm breeze blowing over her metaphysical self. It was strong. Something she had known from birth, known her whole life, without ever really having words for it before. As Derek opened his Channel, hers opened alongside it in all its brilliance.

She felt him pulling away from her and, in her mind, she objected. There was a safety there, a reassurance, a compassion, and more she dared not give words to. It was a gentle departure, but a departure all the same. Halle sighed faintly as her eyes fluttered open. Derek stared back. His chest expanded slowly with every deep breath.

For a long time they sat unmoving. Her body felt the same, but everything had changed. His hands slowly fell away from her face, and the last connection was through their gaze.

“Halle, I ...” he uttered over a thick tongue.

Some madness overwhelmed her, and she grabbed for his hands. “Derek,” she breathed, clutching at him desperately. Halle searched for some validation of what she had found in their brief period of shared existence.Derek stared back at her. Long before he pulled his hands from hers she saw a moment of panic, a moment of want—and he withdrew mentally. Halle realized he may be unable to hide anything from her again in the darkness of his eyes, she’d seen it all as though she was looking in a mirror. She wasn’t sure if this Joining was a blessing or a curse.

“I think we have accomplished enough for tonight.” Derek looked away, sitting straighter, more composed.

“Derek,” she whispered. Even his minor withdrawal hurt her more deeply than it should have. It felt like a piece of her had been carved out.

“All you need to do is repeat that process, what you felt. I think you can figure that out on your own.” He still didn’t look at her.

“Derek,” Halle pleaded.

“You can ask Hardy for help also. Just pick a motion and repeat it as you Channel. Repeat the action every time you try, so when you succeed you will begin to associate the act with that trigger.” He turned back to the table, picking up the parchment he’d been reading earlier.

Halle wasn’t sure what she had done wrong, but he had completely shut himself off from her. He was the one who had suggested the Joining; what was he suddenly so afraid of ? She sighed and pulled herself to her feet.