An In Between had been selected.

The Keeper’s effort to find an alternative link to the girl had included first and foremost the plentiful Sentinels, and then two rare elementals and finally the intruder who had taken possession of the Talisman. Predictably, the King’s daughter was naturally drawn to the one in possession of the Talisman. In those moments when she was drawn to an elemental, the Keeper had felt her visceral need to reconnect directly through the Talisman, a desire buffered by an equal repugnance, but when in proximity to the intruder her resistance diminished considerably. Instinctively she trusted the usurper, more than likely because she sensed the presence of the Talisman on him.

It remained to be seen whether or not this usurper was worthy to be called In Between.

Bhria preferred to deal with the girl without an In Between, but it was abundantly clear that this bond was not going to be so simple.

The moment the human came in direct contact with the Talisman, the Keeper instantly knew every detail of the usurper’s life so far, from beginning to end, the good and the bad, the twisted rebellion, the agonizing loss of faith and its long painful restoration, still in progress. The man had a history of resistance to the Thrithings’ bond and his resistance had proved resilient.

Even now, Bhria came up against that profane wall of stubbornness. Inside the dense veil the weak signature of the Brother assigned to this malcontent stretched to find a way out but was stretched so thin as to be dispersed to eternity, if such a thing were possible. Bhria’s mind moved into the outer edges of the veil, felt the Brother shrink back and after a momentary lull surge forward. Their minds met. The contact gave the weakened Brother hope, a spurt of strength, a resurgence of Spirit. Even so it soon became clear the connection was not enough to break the Brother free. It required an Assembly.

With a promise to send word to the Brother’s Bhria turned again to the task at hand. How much control would the human wield over this new connection? The strong resistance he displayed toward his own Keeper made Bhria wonder what sort of In Between he would make. What resistance would he bring to the task of In Between, resistance that might impact the King’s daughter for ill and not for good?

Now that the human was in direct physical contact with the girl’s Talisman, and the connection was new, he had not had time to put up a veil so before he could even think about trying, Bhria gave him the full measure of pain he deserved, charging his body and his mind with white static. The human male had deliberately dispossessed the King’s daughter of her talisman. Worse still he had managed to disengage from and isolate his own Keeper. It did not matter why. For the purpose at hand Bhria must prove the man worthy of the care of the King’s daughter. In time the Brotherhood would determine what damage had been brought to bear on their Brother. Would the damage to the bond be reversible? Or was it too late? Too late for their Brother and too late to redeem the man, let alone, protect the King’s daughter.

Putting these concerns aside, Bhria focused on the singular tiny point of the usurper’s physical existence in order to see how he comported himself in the human realm, among his own kind in the context of his environment, an exercise of will Bhria did not relish and seldom attempted, but to learn what the usurper truly intended toward the King’s daughter, whether good or ill, a sift through the silt of human offal was necessary to get an exact picture, an unpleasant exigency to be sure.

Bhria pushed through the In Between’s weakened resistance; the Talisman expedited the effort.

His name was Theo. His ankles were shackled to chains attached to iron pikes driven into the bedrock inside a tiny cloth dwelling – why humanity insisted on shielding themselves beneath restrictive enclosures with the sheltering Sentinels above was beyond him. Theo had already received the first blows of human judgment and his injuries were being attended by two men.

“I do not believe the break is so severe that his breathing will be permanently impaired if we let it heal crooked. “ The one said to his companion after a prolonged examination that involved poking and prodding Theo’s nose, now swollen twice its normal size.

The other medic replied in a voice full of sarcasm. “It would be a wasted treatment anyway for a man who will be dead this time next week.”

Their voices echoed dimly through the haze of the psychic pain Bhria’s static caused, but their meaning was not lost on Bhria or Theo. A female aid ducked under the flap of the tent held out of the way by one of two body guards posted outside the prison tent. She carried a bowl and bandages hung over her arm.

“That gash under his eye is going to have to be sewed up though.” The second medic continued. “What fun would it be if he bled out before we have a chance to crucify him?”

“You wish, brother.”

They stood up together and the first medic addressed the female aid.

“Pack the nose.”

“You are not going to set it?”

“Nope,” the assistant medic said.

“No need to finesse when you stitch him up.” The medic instructed the young woman.

“No sense using pain killers either.” The other said in a jeering voice.

“Close it up enough to stop the bleeding. If he survives his punishment he deserves to carry his guilt on his face for the rest of his life.”

“An eye for an eye.” The other cackled.

“Very well.” She said with no hint of censure.

“As soon as you finish sewing him up apply plenty of cold packs with folly leaf. The least we can do is keep the swelling down. We want him able to look his accusers in the face the day his trial begins.”

“Get out of here,” The aide laughed while she watched them go. When she faced Theo her grey eyes were dispassionate and her smile faded as she went to work. He watched her through the slits of his eyes, using her to distract himself from the continued siren shout of the Keeper. In another life in another time Theo would have had her in his tent and in the throes of passion in a flash. In another place, in another time and under better circumstances she would have come looking for him.

The warmth from Danielle’s Thrithingstone flared a lance of heat out across his chest intensifying his distress as if his thoughts were a betrayal of her and not of his own vow of abstinence or his promise to Anthony. The pain was excruciating. It made it hard to breath as if the wind had been knocked out his lungs permanently.

The aide packed his nose with just enough roughness that the pain caused his eyes to tear and she nearly drowned him flushing the blood from his wound by pouring water from a pitcher directly onto the cut. She sewed indiscriminate stitches across his cheek without the benefit of any pain deadening agent. So far she had avoided looking him in the eye, but for one brief glance her grey eyes rested on his swollen lids.

She must have caught a glimpse of the tenor of his thoughts because her bland expression brightened, then her cheeks flamed and she frowned.

“Freth!” She hissed. Her breathing became agitated while she punctured healthy flesh a quarter inch below the wound and then another quarter inch above it and gave the needle a sharp tug, pulling the stitch too tight. "I am afraid your little Princess will be no help to you now."

The young woman continued sewing and whispered in a tight voice that reeked of resentment. “You may think she will order us around and use her connections to the King to get by our laws and the Matriarch to give you what you want, but you are mistaken.”

She paused before making a last knot. Her color was high. Theo recognized that look very well, the look of a creature trapped in an alluring snare that promised terrible consequences. He did not in the least feel for her or pity her, or entertain even a second of giving her what she wanted. She had spoken ill of Danielle. It satisfied him that her desire disgusted her. It disgusted him more. It made no difference to him that she was helpless to resist him. The foolish Lowlandians should have thought twice before sending a woman to treat him and worse, leaving her alone with him.

Theo did not have to pretend to be bored. “Do you think you could finish that last stitch and get the hell out of here?”

The color in her cheeks went from high to bright red. Her whole face was infused with dark color all the way down her neck. Shame was good. He wanted to shame her for expressing even a modicum of ill will toward Danielle.

Her eyes flashed anger and humiliation. She leaned very close so that her breath puffed hard against his jaw. “How many times did you fuck her before she agreed to make you her consort?”

Theo’s hand was wrapped around her throat before he even thought about doing it. He pulled the aide into his lap until they were nose to nose. Her needle flew out of her hand.

“Say one more word against her and I’ll kill you right here.” He pinched.

She gurgled in her throat; tried to pry his hand away. He tightened his hold. Let her use her needle to hurt and humiliate him, he deserved punishment but Danielle had done nothing but prove what a good loyal heart she had and if they turned their vile behavior against Danielle he’d see them suffer for it. He pressed his thumb to her larynx.

Interesting.

Two human males rushed in and struggled to dispossess Theo of the female but they could not get him to release her until one of them pressed his thumb against Theo’s broken nose.

The pain was so bad the other pain, the subliminal static of the Keeper faded to a dull hum. Raw agony seared all the way to the back of his skull only to ricochet into his eyes and cheekbones. His body convulsed violently. The aide was thrown off and she sprawled landing on the bowl of bloody water, spilling it and bandages on the rocks. Theo howled with pain, rage and frustration. The men struggled to pull his arms to his back. Theo fought them.

The Keeper turned his attention from the sordid display and focused his will upon the Talisman until it flared white hot and he pushed sending the elemental energy to Theo’s heart and from there to every inch of his body a lightning bolt of nuclear fission in miniature. Theo’s voice silenced abruptly and his body stiffened and he sucked in a huge lungful of air through his open mouth.

For a nanosecond the Keeper was one with Theo. He tasted air sweet and cool, a taste full of the essence of her, of Danielle on the day the sky ripped open and she fell nearly on top of him, when she still carried on her the scent of her world, cool air, composting vegetation, and most tellingly, the sweetest pungent earthiness of her soul.

It was all the proof Bhria needed.

“You will do.” The Keeper withdrew back to the fullness of his own being taking Theo’s memory with him and taking back the punishing static. Her In Between had suffered enough.

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Next Chapter: Chapter 17