Sea of Sighs (Empath Book 2) Read online

  The Sea of Sighs

  Empath: Book Two

  Dawn Peers

  A PERMUTED PRESS BOOK

  Published at Smashwords

  ISBN: 978-1-68261-029-9

  ISBN (eBook): 978-1-68261-030-5

  THE SEA OF SIGHS

  Empath Book 2

  © 2015 by Dawn Peers

  All Rights Reserved

  Cover art by Christian Bentulan

  This book is a work of fiction. People, places, events, and situations are the product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historical events, is purely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author and publisher.

  Permuted Press

  109 International Drive, Suite 300

  Franklin, TN 37067

  http://permutedpress.com

  To Sam. Thank you for all of your support.

  Contents

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  31

  32

  33

  34

  35

  About the Author

  1

  "Quinn, you have two choices: trial, or exile?"

  King Vance’s words echoed around the cavernous hall, and their finality made Quinn’s choice unmistakably obvious. Quinn hadn’t realised she’d been gripping her best friend’s hand. She dropped it, and stood alone facing the king. She held her chin high, and her stiff posture showed the proud defiance she felt.

  "I choose exile, your highness."

  She exhaled, feeling the weight of years of subjugation under Baron Sammah’s patronage lift from her shoulders. Quinn felt heady, almost dizzy. She wasn’t going to be taken down with her father. On the contrary: she had been offered her freedom, and she was going to take it with both hands. There was one person, though, that she knew she would have to deal with before she left. King Vance nodded to her, acknowledging Quinn’s choice.

  “You’ll be given one day to make good your affairs here. If you have not left the outer walls of Everfell by midday tomorrow I will issue a decree for your arrest, and you will stand trial for conspiracy to commit treason with your father, Baron Sammah. I expect you to be well beyond the limits of the city by sundown. Do not take this punishment lightly, Quinn; you are not welcome in these lands any more. You do not belong with our kind, and Sammah shouldn’t have entertained keeping you here.”

  Quinn’s initial elation deflated at the sting of his words. Vance might have been grateful that she, Maertn, and Eden had helped to save his throne, but he didn’t have to like the way they had done it. As far as he was concerned, an empath just like Quinn had caused the last war, and Vance didn’t want her anywhere near his court.

  If I’m that much of a danger to him, Quinn thought, why doesn’t he just have me killed? Because he was grateful, Quinn told herself. Vance was at least acknowledging that he felt no threat from Quinn. That was a compliment, despite the work Sammah had been doing to tarnish her name in the higher echelons of court. The Satori, the persona that Sammah had projected on her when he had been using her power to use blackmail as leverage in court, was dead. In terms of punishing Quinn, Vance didn’t really have a choice in the matter. He couldn’t order the execution of the girl—for she was barely a woman, in their eyes—who had saved his throne. Quinn sent a tendril of her power out to the king. Relief was there, strong and palpable. She had definitely made the right decision for herself, and the king was happy. But what about everyone else?

  Vance had already turned his back on her, retreating with his guards, a loyal handful of men who had remained at their king’s side despite the risk to their lives Sammah’s attack had meant. Vance would be surrounding himself with that level of protection for the rest of his days, if Sammah and Shiver’s treachery was anything to go by. In his wake, she was left with three men. Ross, Maertn, and Eden. She couldn’t meet her lover’s tear-laden gaze. Instead, she looked to Ross. The chamberlain had quietly helped them all, and probably saved all of their lives. Quinn couldn’t even begin to tell him how grateful she was, and the perceptive veteran saw that in her eyes. Ross walked over to her, his towering figure dwarfing the diminutive empath. He stooped down, reaching his arms around her and lifting her up in an unexpected hug that took all of her breath away. Quinn gasped, delighted, but squealed when the bones in her back popped one by one. Ross set her back down and she bent over, hands on her knees, catching back the breath that the squeeze had forced out of her lungs.

  “Sorry, Quinn. I had to do that. I’ve been meaning to for years. Sammah is a hard man to get past, and you had a pretty hard shell.”

  “You don’t need to remind me, sir.” Quinn wheezed.

  “Call me Ross, please. I’m not in charge of you anymore. No one is, Quinn. I’m worried for you.” He placed a surprisingly gentle hand under her chin, raising her eyes to meet his. “You be careful out there. You think Sammah was bad? Sha’sek is a country full of men like him. There’s a reason I chose to stay in Everfell when the wars ended.”

  Quinn swallowed nervously, but nodded her understanding. Ross held her gaze for a moment longer before letting her go. His inspection was exhausting, and Quinn did not go seeking confirmation of Ross’s emotions or intentions. His feelings had been laid bare in his eyes.

  Maertn was next. This time, Quinn had to go to him. Maertn was already openly crying. Tears streaked down his dust-stained face, rolling over his swollen cheek to the bare stone floor. Their embrace didn’t overpower her like Ross’s had, but they held it for longer, bound by the years of their friendship and their suffering under the patronage of Sammah. Quinn knew what she wanted to hear from Maertn, the man that was both her brother and her best friend. She squeezed her eyes shut, desperate to hear the words she needed without forcing them from his throat. Maertn’s voice croaked as he struggled to get any words past his tears. “I won’t let you go on your own.”

  Quinn broke down then. Maertn’s selfless solidarity evaporated the meagre reserves of her resolve, and her vision melted as she wept. She rested her head on his shoulders, and as his hand cradled her close, Quinn sobbed into his tunic. She didn’t know how any of them were still alive, but here they were. They had survived Sammah, and all of his conspiracies.

  Sammah had thought to use Quinn to usurp the throne of Everfell. No one knew whether he was doing this with the knowledge and support of Sha’sek. If he was—and the thought was petrifying—this meant the start of a new war. Quinn couldn’t bear being a part of that, though she no longer had a choice in the matter. Sammah had only left her two options: to go down as the figure in history who put him on the throne and ended royal rule in Everfell, or the woman who foiled the Sha’sekian usurper, laying down the kindling to the next war. She had chosen the latter. Of course, if Sammah claimed that he was acting on his own, then there might not be any war. The situation balanced on a knife edge, though, any fool could see that.

  Lord Shiver, too, would be lucky to escape the year with his life for his part in Sammah’s schemes. The Lord of Sevenspells had thought himself above the law fo
r the role he had played in putting Vance on the throne all those years ago. He could now find out the hard way that no man was beyond the king’s justice.

  What then of Eden, Shiver’s youngest son, but Quinn’s co-conspirator at bringing Sammah to heel?

  Quinn reluctantly lifted her head from Maertn’s shoulder. She had been avoiding talking to Eden. She had already chosen exile, and the only person that would try to change her mind was Eden. Quinn pulled at Maertn, planting a firm kiss on his forehead. She pushed him away, and turned to Eden.

  Quinn’s heart hammered painfully. He was so handsome, even with his bruised eye and swollen cheek. Eden’s eyes were downcast, and Quinn was scared what she might see when he finally looked up at her. She had already declared she would leave; she wouldn’t be able to bear it, if Eden turned on her now.

  “Eden? Talk to me, please.” She didn’t want to look into his eyes, but Quinn also couldn’t tolerate his silence. Come what may, Eden had to speak to her. He lifted his head, then, and the look he gave sundered Quinn’s heart.

  “What do you want me to say, Quinn?”

  Quinn went to him, despite the anger that rode straight over the pain that had been blossoming in her chest. He wasn’t the one being exiled; what right did he have to be so upset?

  “Say that you’re glad I’m still alive? Say that you’re glad I won’t be standing trial!”

  “Am I meant to tell you I’m glad you’re leaving, too?”

  “You can be glad that I’m not going to be sentenced to death, because that’s my only alternative!”

  Eden ran his hands through his hair. It was matted against his head and he pulled away his palms, absentmindedly rubbing them against his trousers. Quinn could see how exhausted he looked; he hadn’t rested—hadn’t even bathed for days. He was tired and understandably frustrated. Eden bit his lip, taking a deep breath, “I’m sorry, Quinn. I’m not thinking. It’s been unbearable these last few days. I can’t believe it’s over, but now it is…” His voice trailed away, sounding broken and defeated.

  Quinn looked around. Vance’s entourage had left them. A few curious onlookers still lingered around the edges of the court, nudging each other and pointing at them, keeping their voices down to hushed whispers. How cowardly they all were. They had all simply stood by and watched as she, Eden and Maertn had risked their lives to save Vance. She didn’t want to be there, then. She wanted to be alone in the calm quiet, with Eden. They needed to talk. Quinn glanced at Maertn and Ross. Both men looked awkward to be there, at the start of Quinn and Eden’s blossoming argument. They were too polite to excuse themselves, so Eden spared them the trouble.

  “Come on, Quinn. I’ll draw you a bath. You need the rest more than anyone else. I can’t begin to imagine what you’ve been through.”

  Quinn eyed Eden warily, suspicious at his sudden change of tone and attitude. “This conversation isn’t over, Eden.”

  “I know it isn’t. You’re not leaving this city without protection, Quinn. I’m coming with you, too.”

  Quinn let it rest. She wouldn’t convince Eden of anything, now. Later, when he had calmed down, when she’d had time and space to think, she’d let him know that she had no intention of letting him come with her.

  2

  Quinn leaned out of the window, palms against the sill to keep herself from falling out, and stretched her torso out as far as she safely could. The air this high was almost soft against her face, and clear of the reek she knew roiled through parts of the castle. Down in the courtyard, even with the Queen’s attempts at sumptuous planted gardens, Quinn’s senses would still be assaulted with the stenches from the kitchens, the stables, and when the wind was blowing the wrong way, the cesspits outside the city.

  Dawn had not long broken, but Quinn had barely slept, keeping to her old working hours and making sure the things she needed were packed, and that her route out of Everfell; through Sevenspells and down to the coast was carefully planned. In the bed behind her, Eden stirred, but didn’t wake. Their argument had been heated, and that had boiled over into frustrated passion. Afterwards, he had agreed to stay up with her to plan her journey through Sevenspells. Eden wanted to come with her at least that far. That did make sense to Quinn, but she didn’t know if the king would let any of Shiver’s sons out of the city under the current circumstances. She didn’t turn him down. He had been far too hopeful, and ultimately, the decision wasn’t Quinn’s. Vance would turn Eden down, and Quinn would have actually been grateful for his company negotiating the difficult roads of Sevenspells.

  Quinn knew that the journey could be awkward with Maertn and Eden all in tow together, however getting lost so early in her journey was not a luxury she could afford. Quinn was torn, however. Whilst she knew she wanted Eden’s help, she also knew that it would be torture for the young lord, for him to accompany her, knowing that at the end she would still have to leave him. Should she just leave him behind? Would that be a cleaner way to break his heart? These questions kept Quinn up the rest of the night, and now, with the sun cresting the horizon, she still didn’t have an answer. She would do just as well by throwing dice out of the window and hoping for them to land on the decision she did not want to make. Quinn started to pace in frustration, but hesitated when she saw Eden store again. Making her decision then, realising she was frightened to write the young man, she left the room. Heading to Maertn’s room across the hallway, Quinn knocked timidly on his door. Maertn snapped the door open almost instantly, making Quinn jump back in surprise. Maertn, it appeared, hadn’t slept at all either. His eyes were bloodshot and his hair, usually a dry straw mess at the best of times, resembled an open barn in a storm.

  “It looks like you got a great night’s sleep too, hey?” Maertn said with a smirk.

  Quinn grinned at him sardonically. “Just as much as you, from the looks of things. May I come in?”

  Instead of responding, Maertn stepped back, sweeping his arm out in a grand bowing gesture for her to enter. Quinn sauntered past, trying to look like a lady, but failing miserably, breaking down into a fit of giggles. She scolded herself, putting it down to her nerves. Spirits knew, she needed a laugh. It had felt like so long since she’d felt the touch of friendship, even with Maertn, her own brother. Quinn scanned the room, and wasn’t surprised to see that the efficient healer had already packed. She perched herself on the end of his bed, and waited for him to sit down. Maertn took a seat on the edge of his desk and stared at her, waiting for her to start speaking. When the silence awkwardly stretched out between them for too long, Maertn gave in.

  “What do you need?”

  Quinn scrunched up her face forlornly. “What do you think I need? What do I do with Eden?” It wasn’t a question, and she knew it wasn’t. She also knew that she shouldn’t ask Maertn to make this decision for her. Alone in this castle though, Quinn had no one else to talk to. She had to let her thoughts out, otherwise she thought she might explode, and Maertn was the best person. “I think I should just leave him, but I’ve already done so much damage. Will he just hate me now?”

  “I don’t think Eden could ever hate you Quinn, even if you did leave him behind. But what you need to do right now, is think of yourself, not him. If you don’t get out of this place soon, King Vance will have you killed. And they won’t spare your life. You’re too dangerous to be left alone, and I’m surprised Vance has let you live.”

  Quinn’s blood ran cold at Maertn’s unforgiving words. It was, however, the truth, whether she liked it or not. Perhaps Maertn was right after all. She did need to start being selfish, though the doing was a lot harder than the saying, when she had spent her entire life serving others.

  “Do I even say goodbye?” Quinn’s eyes sprang tears at the thought of leaving Eden behind without speaking to him again. Maertn stood up from the desk, coming across to her and smothering her in a hug. Quinn returned it, hiding her head again in his neck, glad that she didn’t have to do any more talking for the time being. After spending so much
of her life virtually mute, all of these conversations were becoming exhausting. Quinn needed to get out of Everfell, and she craved some peace and quiet. She realised then, that she wouldn’t get the latter if she brought Eden with her. Despite the fact that he would be indispensable through Sevenspells, he would likely spend the entire journey trying to convince her to stay. She was already so drained from the trial of facing Sammah, and the exhaustion of using her power to bring him to justice. She didn’t think she had anything left in her to be able to emotionally endure Eden through days of riding through Sevenspells and down to the coast. In her heart of hearts, she had always known this, but had been unwilling to admit it, not wanting to do any more damage than she already had. But these were terrible times, and if Quinn didn’t start being selfish, she would stop living.

  With this realisation, Quinn began to calm down. She relaxed her grip on Maertn’s waist, and pulled back out from the safety of his embrace. She stood up from the bed, and Maertn stood to face her.

  “It didn’t take long to you to make up your mind,” Maertn said, not nastily.

  Quinn shrugged. “I suppose I always knew what I had to do. I just needed to say some things out loud to be able to make myself understand that.”

  “Is that how your power works?” Maertn asked with a playful grin, “Have you managed to trick yourself into believing what you think you should do?”

  Quinn shook her head, both confused and amused. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to control anyone’s emotions, Maertn.” Quinn shivered at the thought of actually being able to tell people how to feel. It petrified her, beyond anything she’d ever been able to do with her ability so far. This was something Quinn told herself despite what she had done to Sammah; what she had done had been impossible. Her father was an apath and fundamentally resistant to Quinn’s empath strengths. Quinn had managed to convince herself of that. Quinn shuddered, remembering once again Sammah’s intentions for her.