Page 29 of Dark Shaman: Eternal Hope (The Children Of The Gods #100)

ELUHEED

E luheed had said all the things that Tamira needed to hear, but he hadn't truly believed in them until she started providing real solutions and shaming him into action.

He'd been so affected by the encounter with the enhanced ones that he was starting to suspect they were somehow sucking out his energy. He wasn't the type to give up easily, and yet he'd allowed himself to feel hopeless for a few moments.

Tamira put a hand on his arm. "I've never asked you to do this before because I know how much it takes out of you, and I know it's not fair to ask it of you today, but can you summon a vision about my future the same way you did for Lord Navuh?"

"Tamira…" He turned his gaze up and scanned the walls and the ceiling to remind her that what they said in there wasn't private, and she hadn't kept her voice low enough.

She stood and tugged on his hand. "I feel like soaking in the tub. Care to join me?"

He knew she wanted them to have privacy, and the bathroom seemed safer than the bedroom, although they had no proof of that. The safest was outside, far into the gardens surrounding the harem, but it was obvious that Tamira didn't want to wait until tomorrow. She wanted him to see her future now.

After she closed the bathroom door behind them, he waited for her to start the water for the tub. "That's not how the visions work, Tamira." He sat on the tub's ledge.

"Why not?" She sat on the ledge next to him and took his hands, her grip firm and warm. "You've had visions about others. About Navuh, about the enhanced soldiers. Why not about me?"

Eluheed let out a long breath, feeling the familiar burden of his gift—or curse, depending on the day. "Visions don't work well for loved ones. The emotional connection interferes. It clouds things. What I might see could be wishful thinking rather than true sight."

"Or it could be real." Her fingers tightened around his. "Please, Eluheed. I need something to hold on to. Even if it's uncertain, even if it might be your wishful thinking, I need something positive. To know there's a possibility of something out there for me. For us."

He wanted to say that there was no guarantee his vision would provide anything good, but studying her face and seeing the desperation she was trying so hard to hide behind determination, his resolve faltered.

If he saw something that could lift her spirits, he would tell her, and if he saw their plans failing, he would lie and say that he had seen nothing.

To lie went against his religion, but he had already misled people and told untruths so many times since his arrival on Earth over a thousand years ago that one more lie wouldn't matter.

As it was, he was guaranteed to end up in the seven hells of purification after he died and not in Sacred Dolis.

"Even if I see something, there's no guarantee that it's a future that will come to pass. Visions show possibilities, not certainties. Sometimes they show what might happen if we do nothing. Sometimes they show what could happen if we act. There's no way to know which."

"I understand." But her eyes said she needed this anyway, needed even the illusion of hope if that was all he could offer.

Eluheed leaned over to release some of the water that had accumulated in the tub so they could keep it running and cover up their conversation.

When most of the water had emptied, he closed the drain again and took hold of Tamira's hands.

"I need you to be very still and very quiet and wait until I let go of you. "

When she nodded, Eluheed closed his eyes and let his consciousness drift, loosening the careful controls he usually maintained.

Summoning visions hadn't been part of his shamanic training.

It was something that had shown up in his family once in a few generations—a gift from a distant ancestor that had been blessed or cursed with a prophetic ability.

Still, the gift hadn't manifested until after he'd been trained as a shaman, the training helping him access the veil between present and future, between what was and what might be, and peer through it.

At first, there was nothing but the familiar darkness behind his eyelids, the sound of Tamira's breathing, the warmth of her hands in his. He pushed deeper, past the surface thoughts that cluttered his mind, seeking that deeper current where visions swam like dreams drifting in the void.

The shift came suddenly, as it always did. One moment, he was sitting on the edge of a bathtub in Tamira's quarters, and the next, he was elsewhere.

The noise hit him first. Not the controlled hum of the harem or the chaos of the island's construction, but something vast and overwhelming. Horns blaring, voices calling out in multiple languages, music spilling from doorways, the rumble of relentless traffic.

The vision sharpened, bringing details into focus.

Massive screens blazed with advertisements, their light turning night into perpetual twilight.

Buildings stretched impossibly tall, their windows reflecting the chaos below in fractured patterns.

And the people, so many people, streams of humanity flowing in every direction, each absorbed in their own urgent journey, overwhelming, pressing.

Times Square.

He recognized it from movies, though he'd never been there himself. New York City, that monument to human ambition and excess, alive and thriving with more energy than seemed possible.

And there, in the midst of it all, he saw her.

Tamira.

But not as she was now. This Tamira wore modern clothing, dark jeans that fit her perfectly, and a soft sweater in deep burgundy that complemented her olive skin. Her hair was a little shorter, styled in soft curls that spilled below her shoulders but not down her back as it did now.

Her arm was threaded through that of a man who wasn't Eluheed, and she was gazing adoringly at him as he explained something with animated hand gestures.

For a moment, a haze of jealousy threatened to burn through the vision, but then Eluheed noticed that their hair color was identical.

When the man turned and looked right at him, or rather, through his vision, Eluheed saw that his eyes were the same shade of dark blue as Tamira's.

The resemblance was undeniable, and he realized that he was looking at her son.

This was Darien.

Tamira's son lived, and given the expensive clothes he wore with casual ease, he was thriving.

He moved through the crowd with the confidence of someone who belonged there, and when he looked at Tamira, there was love in his eyes.

He knew she was his mother, had accepted her, and had chosen to have her in his life.

She was free. They both were.

The vision held for another moment, letting him see the small details.

The expensive-looking watch on Darien's wrist, his polished shoes, the ring that some men wore as a symbol of graduating from a certain university or belonging to a certain club or an association—all those were clues that might help them find Darien.

Then it began to fade, the lights of Times Square dimming, the sounds muffling, until?—

Eluheed gasped, his consciousness slamming back into his body with enough force to make him sway. Tamira's hands gripped his almost painfully, her eyes searching his face.

"What did you see?" she asked.

He had to take several breaths before he could speak, his mind still reeling from the transition. "I saw you and Darien in New York. Times Square, specifically."

Her eyes widened. "I was with my son?"

Grinning, Eluheed nodded. "I saw him, and he was alive and free, living in New York. And you were with him, which means that you are going to get out of here. Our escape is going to work."

The joy that transformed Tamira's face was almost painful to witness. She pressed her free hand to her mouth, tears starting to spill down her cheeks. "Are you sure it was him?"

"The resemblance was unmistakable. The same eyes, the same mannerisms. And the way he was with you—he knew you, loved you. You somehow found each other."

"Oh." The word was more sob than speech. She released his hands to wrap her arms around herself, rocking slightly as she processed what he'd told her. "He's alive. Free. We were together."

Eluheed watched her joy, and he was happy for her, but she hadn't asked the obvious question yet. She would in a moment or two, and then her happiness would diminish.

It came sooner than he'd hoped.

The elation in her expression dimmed, her eyes focusing on his with sudden sharpness. "Wait. You said I was with Darien. Where were you?"

He tried to keep his face neutral, but she knew him too well.

"You weren't there." Her voice had gone flat, all the joy draining away. "In this vision of my freedom, my reunion with my son—you weren't there."

"The vision was about your future," he said. "They usually focus on one person, showing what matters most to them. My absence doesn't mean that I didn't make it out. I could have been somewhere else while you were enjoying New York with Darien."

"Stop." She stood abruptly, pacing away from him before spinning back. "Don't lie to me."

Did she know how grievous an insult it was to hear her accuse him of lying?

She should because he'd told her, but she was emotional right now and thinking in human terms, or rather, immortal terms. Neither had a problem with deception, and some elevated it to an art form.

"I'm not lying," he said as calmly as he could.

"I'm telling you that visions are incomplete by nature.

They show fragments, moments. I might have been somewhere else in the city.

I might have been the one who helped you find him.

I might have been fulfilling my other obligations. Don't read too much into this."

Still, even as he said it, he knew she heard the hollow ring in his words.

None of them were meant to deceive, and they might have been true, but the vision had felt complete in the way true visions did—not showing everything, but showing what mattered.

Tamira and her son, free in the world, building a relationship that had been stolen from them.

Without Eluheed.

He leaned over to drain some of the water again, but before he had a chance to re-plug the tub, Tamira moved to sit on the edge next to him and took his hands. "I won't accept a future without you. If the vision shows me free but alone, then we change it. We make a different future."

"Some things can't be changed," he said. "Maybe my part in this story is to get you free. Maybe that's enough."

"Enough?" Her voice rose with indignation. "How can you think I'd want freedom and a new life without you in it?"

He wanted to comfort her, to agree that they'd find another way, but the vision had felt true in a way he couldn't deny. And perhaps it was better this way. If setting her free cost him his life, wasn't that a price worth paying?

She would have her son, her freedom, a chance at the life that had been stolen from her.

But even as he thought it, Eluheed remembered his obligation.

His precious charges. His sacred duty to protect them, to one day return them to his people.

If he died on this island, who would recover them?

Who would complete the mission that had brought him to this world in the first place?

No. He couldn't accept death as the price of Tamira's freedom. Not because he feared it, but because his duty extended beyond this world. His charges were the key to his people's survival. He was their guardian, the only one who knew their location, and the only one who could bring them home.

"I have to survive," he said, the realization hitting him with unexpected force.

"I have to complete my mission." He couldn't tell her everything, couldn't break the oaths that sealed his lips about the true nature of his tasks, but he could give her something.

"Remember what I told you about why I came to Earth?

The sacred treasures I was meant to protect? "

She nodded.

"If I don't make it out of here, they'll remain lost forever. My people need them. Someday, somehow, I have to complete my mission and bring them home, which means that I have to survive, find a way to retrieve what was buried, and find a way home."

She was quiet for a long moment and then nodded. "We both have to survive. We both have to be free. The vision showed me with Darien, but that's just because you were busy somewhere else and the vision you summoned was about me."

"It's possible," he said, but there wasn't much conviction in his voice.

She shook her head. "Remember the first time we spoke? When I willed you to come to me, and my wish manifested?"

He smiled. "I do."

"I will do it again. I will hold this vision you've given me close to my heart and imagine it manifesting, but I will not stop there. I will imagine you bravely searching for your charges and finding them." She stroked her thumbs across his cheekbones. "I'll make it happen."

Despite his reservations, Eluheed believed her. It was impossible not to. That ferocious willpower of hers would make her dreams manifest.

He smiled. "If anyone can make a dream become a reality, it is you."

Her return smile was brilliant. "Darien is alive.

He's free. He's living in New York, of all places.

That means Kalugal must have helped him establish himself there.

It means there's a whole network of escaped Brotherhood members who've built lives outside Navuh's reach.

That means we will have help once we get out of here. "

Tamira was right. He hadn't considered the implications, but Darien's presence in New York and his obvious comfort there suggested an established life. Resources. Connections.

"If we can find them," Tamira continued, her voice gaining strength, "they can help us find your treasure.

Kalugal is Navuh's son, so he must be smart and resourceful.

He also knows how his father thinks and how the Brotherhood operates, enough to remain hidden through all these years.

He could be invaluable in keeping us safe from Navuh. "

"First, we need to escape," he said. "Then we have to find Darien and his friends without Navuh tracking us. Then we have to convince them to help us."

She smiled again. "I'll just add it to my wish list and make it manifest."

He wanted to share her optimism, but the combined challenges tempered his.

The enhanced soldiers' growing awareness, their potential ability to penetrate his mental shields, the cameras in the tunnel, and the submarine they might not know how to operate.

Those were all serious impediments that might thwart their escape.