Redemption by H. D. Gordon

will figure it out” or something, but a look flashed behind
his eyes that told me that he did have an answer, not just an answer, but a solution. And my heart simultaneously jumped in my chest and broke as I saw that it
pained him to have to give it to me. We both knew what it meant if I took
Nelly’s place.
    But, Kayden loved me. Really, and
truly and unselfishly loved me, and he would give me my answer. “Arrol,”
he said.
    My brow furrowed. “What about
him?”
    Kayden came forward and took my
shoulders into his large hands. His lion’s eyes glowed with a devotion that
made my belly ache, and he said, “We have to take him up on the Seer’s offer.
We have to send Nelly into the White World.”

 
     
    Nelly
    “How does this work?” I asked.
    Surah was leaning over the round
table by the windows, daylight streaming in and shimmering off her black cloak.
The stars that had been hidden there in folds of black velvet were revealed,
and they rippled gently as her gloved hands set about their tasks. She rolled
up the sleeves of her black shirt to reveal her forearms, covered haphazardly
with crude, painful-looking black tattoos shaped like individual slash marks.
The tattoos seemed so out of place on her delicate, creamy arms, just as alien
as Alexa’s silver lilies. My sister had mistaken my sympathy for the Sorceress
girl as trust. I did not trust Surah. At this point, I didn’t truly trust
anyone other than Alexa.
    Surah’s voice was soft and
feminine, and she didn’t look up from the objects she arranged on the small
table. “I am going to combine two spells, neither of them simple, so I am going
to need your silence when I actually get going.” She paused then and sighed, as
if she didn’t want to share the next part with me. “The first spell will be a
Tracker, so that I can find the location of your King at this moment. When I
find him, I will attempt the second spell–a Prospect–which, if I am able, will
allow me to see through the eyes of those nearest your King right now.”
    “Wouldn’t it be easier to jump
into his head?” I asked. “What will the eyes of others tell us? It’s not
like he is going to have I know what happened to the Sorcerer stamped on
his head.”
    Surah spun around on her heels,
her long cloak fluttering silently. Her deceivingly gentle face was as
unreadable as ever, but her purple eyes glowed with anger. I didn’t take a step
back, just stood there staring at her, but I could tell that Tommy, who was
standing beside me, was tense.
    “Because,” she said, “I am not you. I can’t just reach into people’s heads and pluck out information like I was
searching through a file cabinet. And you would be surprised how much you can
learn from looking at someone the way everyone else perceives them.” She placed
a gloved hand on her hip. “I’m trying to work with you here, Puppet Master.
Nothing will stop me from finding out what happened to my brother and, if he is
indeed dead, then killing his murderer. You say your King is responsible for
his disappearance,” she smiled, “and I am pretty good at knowing when someone
is lying, maybe not as adeptly as you, but pretty good. I did not have the
pleasure of speaking directly to your King about my brother. My father did, so
I didn’t get the chance to gauge his words. And really, you should consider
this a favor. You’re at war, correct? I’m going to show you what your King is
up to.”
    I nodded once. Surah spun around
again and resumed moving about her vials and little bowls and poultices.
“Sorceress,” I said, and Surah’s shoulders tightened a fraction as she glanced
back at me. I met her gaze head-on. “He is not my King.”
    A small smile tilted the side of
her mouth that was visible, and then she turned back to her work. “No,” she
said. “I suppose he is not.” She examined the objects, as if double-checking
her preparation. “I am ready now. Silence.”
    Tommy took my hand and guided me
to a