The Winds of Khalakovo - Bradley P. Beaulieu [90]
Nasim sat on a circular carpet that lay at the foot of the large bed. His legs were pulled up to his chest, and he was rocking back and forth slowly. If he noticed them, he gave no sign. His movement spoke of discomfort, and his face revealed the depth of it. His brow was furrowed, his lips pinched. His jaw worked. And his eyes... They were fixed upon a point on the far wall, well below a painting of a bleak, wooded landscape caught in the throes of winter. He seemed on the verge of crying, but there was a resoluteness to him that was immediately apparent. He seemed, in fact, noble.
Nikandr had no idea that such pain could project from a child—this or any other. It was humbling, and he found himself wishing he could lift the misery from him.
Rehada kneeled on the carpet. “Nasim?”
He neither moved nor noted her presence. Nikandr doubted he was truly here in any case. More likely he was seeing things from the other side, from Adhiya, the land of hezhan, and he wondered what it would be like to truly see such a thing. He had had one inexplicable meeting with a hezhan, but that was probably as close as he was ever going to get to the world that lay beyond.
Rehada reached out and touched his arm. “Nasim.”
Nikandr sat in a chair at the round table in the corner.“He has not spoken since he arrived, but Ashan said he has done so in the past, sometimes for hours on end.”
“This may take some time,” she said.
He nodded, knowing that would be the case.
Rehada closed her eyes.
Nikandr was entranced as he watched. Rehada was nervous at first, tentative, but then her breath deepened. Her shoulders slumped. Her mouth fell slack. Their breathing fell into sync so completely that they seemed of one breath, of one mind.
But then differences began to appear. Rehada’s brow furrowed. Her throat swallowed several times. Nasim began shaking his head, and the motion grew in frequency and intensity.
A moan escaped Rehada. Her eyes were still closed, but they were clamped shut, as if she feared to open them. He knew she was communing with Nasim, but he had no idea what she might be seeing.
“Rehada?” he asked.
She didn’t respond.
Nasim was shaking his head more fiercely.
“Rehada?” he repeated as he kneeled next to Nasim and held him, trying to quell his violent motions. Nikandr felt heat and knew immediately it was coming from Rehada.
“Rehada, wake up!”
Smoke began to issue from inside her robes.
“Rehada, wake up now!”
It trailed out from her neck and along her face. Nikandr hauled Nasim away, hoping to break their bond.
It seemed to have no effect.
Then Rehada’s clothes began to burn.
By the ancients, what was happening?
He laid Nasim down in the corner and grabbed the sheets from the bed and threw them over her, hoping to smother the flames.
But the flames grew, and Rehada began to scream.
CHAPTER 25
Nikandr swatted at the flames, hoping Rehada would wake on her own. He was nearly to the point of striking her to jar her from her trance when her eyes shot open.
Her face turned purple. Her eyes were wide as they searched the room. A sound uttered from her throat, more like a rusted hinge than an inhalation. Then, finally, she took in a deep, rasping breath. She began coughing immediately after, pulling herself into a ball like a child afraid of the night.
He continued to beat at the flames until finally all of them had been smothered. “Can you hear me?”
She nodded weakly.
“What happened?”
She didn’t answer. Her eyes were wild, afraid. Her breathing was still coming in long, wheezing draws.
“What happened?” he repeated. He hoped that by keeping her talking, it would prevent her from slipping back.
“I found him,” she said. “But my hezhan rebelled.”
“Rebelled?”
She nodded, cringing as she touched her neck. “I fear it was some effect brought on by Nasim’s presence.”
Nikandr’s expression became concerned. “What does it mean?”
“It means that I will need to try again.”
His heart sank. “There cannot be a next time, Rehada. I can’t allow