Getting Lost Ch. 05

Getting Lost is a science-fantasy serial presented in 6 parts. I recommend reading Getting Lost 1-4, or the tale might not make sense. I want to thank Krellyn, Leah Harvey, and RNebular for editing.

This chapter has a lot of drama, but no sexy-times. I hope you still like it and will hang on for the last chapter.

Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy it!

Guinevere A. Hart

**********

Lotus went out into the hall and followed the glow of Sabrael's retreat. She didn't call out or run, because she didn't want to wake anyone else. Besides, she knew where he would go.

Keeping his light in front of her, Lotus picked her way through the dark woods and over the hill toward the beach. As she neared the sand, she quickened her pace. He was a semiaquatic being, and he could swim much faster and farther than she. "Sabrael!" she called.

He turned back and looked at her over his shoulder. His eyes were cold, but he waited for her to catch up to him. Sabrael raised a hand as if he would touch her face, but he curled his fingers tight and lowered his clenched fist. He turned from her then and continued his march toward the surf with Lotus close behind him.

She was afraid she would lose him to the ocean for the night, but he sat down in the wet sand while the surf washed up and over his legs. Lotus sat next to him. The water was cold, and she clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering. She kept quiet until he was ready to talk to her.

When he did speak, his voice was weak, shaking with shallow breath. "I don't understand. What are you doing? Why are you doing this to us?"

"Sabrael, Dakath is kind and sweet. He makes me laugh, and we truly like one another. We're falling in love. It's normal, healthy, for ylf'nim. We want to be together, and we should be. I am ylf'nim. If I'm ever going to be able to have children, a family, I need to be with another ylf'nim. With someone like Dakath."

"So, this is about offspring then? I've always given you whatever you want, Lotus. If you want a youngling, then I'll find one for you to take care of."

"No. That's not what I want. I want to be the ylf'nim that I am, and I want Dakath. Please, Sabrael, you had to know this would happen. I thought maybe that was why you brought me here. To help me find a suitable mate."

He swung his head around and shouted in her face, "I am your mate!" At the same time, his glow changed, becoming a deep fuchsia in patterned splotches. She had never seen such a thing, and his rage frightened her.

Seeing the fear in her eyes, he tried to calm himself. He forced deep breaths, but he couldn't hide the colors showing through on his skin. "You can't be with him," he said with a finality. "He's beneath you."

"But I'm ylf'nim..."

"No, you're not!" he snapped at her. "You never were. What you are is an unknown, but you are more than these primitives. And your body has been enhanced with Eloua science." With a bitter sneer, he pronounced, "You're no more an elf than I am."

"No, that's not true. My parents, they were..."

"Your parents were elf missionaries who found you battle-born and abandoned in the ruins of a burned-out village. As an infant, you took on the form they wanted. It was a survival mechanism. The face you wear is nothing more than instinct."

"That's not true. You're lying." She expected him to be upset, but nothing prepared her for Sabrael's blatant meanness. For an instant, she had vague and scattered flashes of memory. The people she thought of as her birth parents, struggling to raise her in a world torn apart by constant warfare between demons and angels. "My parents did the best they could for me. They loved me."

"I love you." It sounded more like a judgment than an endearment. Then more to himself than to her, he muttered. "It doesn't matter. I am in control. I will contain this. I will fix this. By tomorrow, we will be right again."

Sabrael put a firm hand around her wrist. He commanded, "You will swim with me."

The look in his eyes, the painful grip on her arm, the last thing she wanted was to get in the water with him. "No, Sabrael. I don't want to."

His body still glowed with reddish patches, and his ranting had truly scared her. She tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip to the point of pain and snatched her other arm. Lotus could feel the thin tentacles squirm from his palms and slither around her wrists. Her magic welled up inside, and a shock radiated from her body as she tried to defend herself.

Sabrael absorbed the energy that sent a tremor throughout his body. Though he gasped and snarled against the jolt, he kept hold of her arms. His thellim bit deep into her skin to sting her flesh all the way up to her shoulders. Numbness washed over her while he pulled her into the water. Lotus fought with what strength she had left, certain that he intended to drown her.

He went further out, dragging her until they no longer touched bottom. She choked on the salt water that filled her mouth as she tried to scream. Sabrael pulled Lotus down deep into the frigid darkness. She heard him inside her head, "Lessons learned must sometimes be relearned. You did this to us, but you are mine. You will always be mine."

Sabrael's red flaring mantle folded around her. He viciously tore his hand from her wrist, leaving a part of himself embedded in her skin. His own blood tainted the water around them. What remained of his tentacles crawled over her face as he latched on to her mind. As consciousness left her, Lotus had a nightmare vision of drowning in blood.

*****

Lotus woke from a bad dream. Her skin was sweaty, and tears made her eyes feel puffy. She felt stiff, aching all over. She was in Sabrael's room, but she couldn't remember going there. She lay on a cot near the tub where he sat watching her. When she looked at him, he got out of the water and approached her bedside. "How are you feeling, my love?"

"I hurt. And I think I had a nightmare, but I can't remember it. Sabrael, how did I get here?"

He knelt at her side and brushed a lock of hair from her face. "Oh, my precious flower. I thought we'd lost you. You've been ill. The bad dream you had was most likely a product of fever."

"I-I'm sick?" She couldn't remember falling ill. The last thing she could remember was making love to Dakath in her room.

Sabrael answered, "Yes, love. It seems you've suffered a severe reaction to something you must have picked up from one of these primitive elves. But you're strong. You'll be well soon. Though I'd advise more caution in your interactions with these people."

He helped her raise her head and brought a cup of water to her lips. She didn't know she was parched until the cool water hit her tongue and soothed her throat. She drank deep until he moved the cup away. "Not too much at once," he murmured.

"What time is it?" Lotus asked. "How long have I been asleep?"

"It's nearly midnight. And you've been asleep for three days."

"Three days?" She could hardly believe she'd been out for that long. She sat up too quickly and her head swam for a moment. When the room stopped spinning, she noticed that she had new marks on her arms. The blue swirls around her wrists matched the rest of the Eloua tattoos on her body.

Sabrael's gaze was impassive when she looked at him. He replied to her silent question. "As I said, I nearly lost you. I'm afraid I had to take desperate steps to ensure your safety. Modifications were necessary."

Lotus pushed the coverlet back and tried to get up, but Sabrael stopped her. "You were really quite ill, and you still need to rest. Just lay back down. It's the middle of the night. A servant will see to your needs in the morning."

"Where are Pol, Sem, and Abo?"

"They are conducting our business while I tend to you."

"What of my friend, Prince Dakath?"

Sabrael offered a sad smile. "Oh, love, I'm afraid a visit with him is not possible. The young prince has been arrested."

"Arrested?!" she cried. "But why?"

The Eloua shrugged and said, "I wouldn't know. It's an ylf'nim matter and no concern of ours."

Lotus started to question him, but he shushed her. "That's enough now. You need to concentrate on getting well."

Sabrael pulled the sweat-damp nightdress from her and easily scooped her into his arms. He set her in the tub and gently washed her skin and hair. He left her to soak while he changed her bedding and retrieved a clean night gown. Lotus felt weak, confused, and sad. She'd only had a bath, but she was drained as if she'd just run for miles. She hadn't the energy to put up a fight while he dressed her, combed her hair, and put her back to bed.

"You should know, Lotus, that I've decided an extended stay among these primitives is not good for your health. Once you're well enough to travel, we'll return to the Nephilumen. We can continue our research through our drones, from a safe orbit around the planet."

"No," she pleaded. "Please, Sabrael. You said yourself they need us, and we've made friends here."

"You have made friends here." He snapped back at her, his voice sharp. "And whose fault is that? No. These people are too far beneath us. They are untamable."

"They're people, Sabrael, not animals to be tamed."

He was through arguing. He turned his back on her and slipped into his pool. "Enough," he declared. "You will sleep now."

This Sabrael was not the Eloua she had known and loved on Arcadia. Lotus wanted to press the issue, to get him to tell her what was wrong with him or with her. She wanted to know what had changed. She watched him and tried to form words, but they wouldn't come. Her voice felt crushed, strangled by a fear without cause. Cold, black eyes waited for a challenge she couldn't rise to.

Lotus lay back down and closed her eyes. She evened her breath, pretending to sleep as she checked her mental defenses. Not knowing where the odd fear came from was something to be analyzed later. A plan formed as she lay there and listened for her mentor to leave.

She heard Pol come into the room and listened as Sabrael gave the sil her instructions. He had to meet with king Azerrul and expected to be a while. Lotus was not to have visitors, nor was she permitted to leave the room.

When she was sure Sabrael had gone, Lotus sat up and threw the blanket to the foot of the bed. Kortahn had followed Pol in, and he put his big paws in her lap while he licked her face. The dog couldn't understand why Dakath had gone, and Lotus could empathize with him. She wanted to help the prince, but her first order of business was to stop Sabrael from taking her away.

Pol sat beside her and put an arm around her in a hug. "Lotus, he wants you to stay in bed. You're sick."

"I'm not," Lotus stated. "At least, I don't think I am. I need you to help me get to the ship, Pol."

The sil shook her head. "No, that's a bad idea. Your health is..."

Lotus cut her off. "What's happened? When did I suddenly get sick? How? And what about Dakath? What's happened to him?"

Pol frowned and answered as best she could. "Three nights ago, Sabrael woke me and brought me here. You were in this bed, pale, feverish, and in a deep sleep. He told me that Dakath did something to make you ill. I didn't understand it then, and I still don't. But he left me here to take care of you while he went out. The next day, I'd learned that the elves had arrested their own prince. Do you remember anything, Lotus?"

"No, nothing." Lotus got up in spite of Pol's gentle protests. She wrapped her blanket around her shoulders while she explained herself. "There's something wrong with Sabrael. He's been taking my thoughts, memories, I think. And he's been lying..."

It was Pol's turn to interrupt. "Lotus, that's crazy. Eloua don't lie."

Lotus looked at Pol with very sane eyes, and the sil deflated under her gaze. Quietly, Lotus said, "This Eloua does. Now, I need you to help me tonight, or he's going to put us all back on the Nephilumen, trapped in orbit with him for the rest of our lives."

"Gods, Lotus, what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to talk to Luma, convince him to hide."

"You're going to hide the ship?! Wouldn't Sabrael just take that thought from you too? I mean, if he's even doing the things you say he is."

"He can't take Luma's location from me if I don't have it. Are you going to help me, Pol, or am I going by myself?"

"I-I'll help you, but you can't go out like that. I'll get you a coat and some shoes."

Together Lotus, Pol, and Kortahn snuck through the keep and out into the woods. Even the dog seemed to understand the need for secrecy. He kept to the shadows, quietly padding along behind them. Only when the hills gave way to sand did Pol break their silence. She muttered, "What will happen if he gets back and we're gone?"

Lotus frowned, "It's not like he'd actually hurt us. He's still Eloua."

"If he is manipulating your thoughts against your wishes, if he's willfully lying, he's certainly not acting like any Eloua I've ever known. What if he's lost his mind? What if he's dangerous?"

Pol voiced a nagging suspicion that Lotus had been trying to deny. With resolve, she said, "One thing at a time. Right now, let's take care of Luma."

They would have to swim out to the ship. They came to the water line and Pol waded out, but as waves came up over her feet, Lotus hesitated. Having spent much of her life among the Eloua, Lotus was an excellent swimmer. She'd never been afraid of water, yet while the cold ripples swirled around her ankles, she was seized by a moment of irrational panic.

Pol looked back with concern. "Lotus, what's wrong?"

Everything was wrong. She looked away from the suddenly dreaded foam and faked a smile. "Nothing. It's just cold."

"Yeah," Pol said, "So let's get this over with."

Lotus knelt down and scratched Kortahn's ears. "Wait here," she told him. "If anybody comes, you distract them, okay?"

The dog lifted his ears and tilted his head, but he understood "wait" well enough. He walked back to the dry sand, shook the spray from his coat, and sat facing the water. "You're a good boy, Kortahn." His tongue lolled and tail wagged, but he remained seated.

Impatient, Pol called out, "Are we going to the ship or not?"

Lotus gritted her teeth, clenched her fists, and marched into the water. She gasped when the cold hit her waist and chest. She wanted to turn around and go back. Denying a fearfulness that shouldn't be there, Lotus pushed herself forward.

Luma sensed the wet chill on their bodies as they entered. He automatically increased the ambient temperature to warm them dry. Without being asked, Pol went to work right away on the security system. Lotus headed for the central chamber that gave her access to Luma's core.

Lotus' conversation with Luma was a difficult one. Sensing fear and weakness in her, the ship wanted her to stay so that it could take care of her. When she explained that Luma had to hide not only from Sabrael but from her, she nearly lost the argument. In the end, Luma was as loyal and well trained as Dakath's dog. When she'd finally convinced him and emerged from his core, Pol was waiting for her. "Well?" she asked.

"The Nephilumen is leaving tonight. He'll take us back to shore on his way out. Did you reset security?"

"Yes. You and I are the only ones boarding this ship after tonight. But Lotus, why do I feel like we're committing a crime?"

Lotus smirked, "Probably because we're stealing an Eloua starship. But if a rationalization makes you feel better, as the stellar navigator, Luma is technically half mine."

"Yeah," Pol said. "Okay, we'll go with that, I guess."

The Nephilumen lifted out of the ocean and carried them to shore. When they were back on dry land, Kortahn greeted them with happy barks and a wagging tail. Lotus hugged the dog, reveling in his warmth and joy, while she spoke to Pol. "Our leader is insane. We're on our own here; and in desperate times, we have to make our own laws."

When she returned to Sabrael's room, she got out of her salt and sand encrusted nightgown. She shoved the garment to the bottom of the hamper. Pol helped her to quickly rinse her hair and pull on a clean gown. Getting back in bed and pulling up the covers, she got her breathing under control, trying to settle her nerves. Pol was just sitting down when Sabrael returned.

He was quiet, so as not to wake his sleeping ward. "Pol, how is our Lotus? No troubles, I hope?"

"Fine!" Pol said, "Nope. No troubles."

The sil was nervous, and Lotus winced internally. She thought she shouldn't have taken Pol with her. Then Sabrael asked, "Why is that dog in here?"

"He likes her, and with Dakath in a difficult situation, he needs someone to look after. He's not been any trouble."

"It smells. Take it with you when you go."

"Yes, Sabrael. Come on Kortahn. Let's go boy." Pol tried to coax the dog from Lotus' side while Sabrael sat on the edge of her bed. He put a hand on her forehead and gently stroked her hair.

Pol was in the doorway with the dog, when Sabrael's voice, tight with careful control, stopped her. "Pol, why is her hair so wet? And this isn't the nightgown I chose for her. I thought you said there was no trouble."

Pol stuttered her response, "Uh, sh-she was sick. So, I, uh, got her cleaned up. But she's fine now, right?" The sil tried to lie, and Lotus wished she was better at it. Even so, lying to an Eloua was never an easy feat. She could feel the long tense silence that stretched out between Sabrael and Pol.

Finally, Sabrael said, "You can go now. Send in Sem and Abo when you see them."

Pol escaped with Kortahn, and Sabrael continued to pet Lotus' wet hair. Once the door was closed, he murmured softly to her, "Funny, how you keep your wayward thoughts behind a wall we taught you to build. Poor Pol, however, is not quite so skilled."

Her ruse was clearly over. Lotus opened her eyes and looked at Sabrael's face. His expression was carefully empty, a mask of peace. She couldn't tell how much he'd gleaned from Pol. "It isn't her fault," Lotus began. "It's mine. I wanted to get some fresh air. She didn't want to, but I insisted."

He sighed and shook his head. "This place has changed you, and not for the better."

"It's changed you too. And not for the better."

He granted her a small smile. "My love, I am what I have always been. Soon, we will leave this place, and you will be my own little water flower once again."

Sabrael's palm opened, and he winced in pain as his thellim attempted to emerge. The tendrils were stunted, raw, and swollen. Seeing this, Lotus gasped and took his hand in both of hers. "Sabrael, you're hurt!"

His wounded thellim retreated, and Lotus drew his hand close to her heart. For her, it was instinct to see an injury and heal it. The casting was simple, and in moments he was better.

With his free hand, Sabrael softly traced the new marks on her wrist. His dark eyes grew distant and pained with a hurt she couldn't fix. A choked sound came from his throat, and he looked away from her. "I'm sorry," he whispered, "It's just that I love you. I love you so much that I..."

At that moment, Sem and Abo entered the room. Sabrael's face immediately returned to neutral and he stood up. He nodded toward the door. "We'll talk in the hall. Our Lotus needs her rest."

That last bit was in a tone meant more for her than for them. She pulled her blanket up to her chin and turned away. She fell asleep quickly. In her dreams, she floated between stars with strangers on a dead ship.

Lotus woke late in the morning. There were three ylf'nim women in the room with her. They talked softly of trivial things while eyes and hands kept busy with embroidery. Room dividers had been moved in, giving Sabrael some privacy as he slept in his pool. When Lotus sat up, the women smiled at her, and one of them said, "Good morning, High Priestess. How are you feeling?"