Reborn Read Free

bed this morning. “I expect the documents written by nightfall, and I will sign them into law at daybreak.” Her eyes narrowed once more as the last remaining hint of amusement melted away. She hissed like a snake, “Now be gone from my sight.” The final word had barely left her mouth before he spun on his heels and bolted toward the door.
    Ilirra closed her eyes and tipped her head back before rubbing small circles around her temples. She sighed, knowing the confrontation had ended the only way it could. She would not be pressured by anyone to go against her heart, no matter what sort of tension it might create between her and the other advisors. True, she would now have to curb the inevitable backlash. There would certainly be strong resistance even though the order came directly from the Queen, but this sort of legal posturing was nothing new, nor was this minor inconvenience the true source of her frustration.
    She was hardly even aware of the two servants who had scampered into the throne room and were now righting the overturned table. They knew better than to ask any questions as they picked up broken shards and wiped down the red-stained wall. This was not the first time they had been asked to provide an extra table for one of the Queen’s typical business meetings, nor was it the first time those meetings had ended less than cordially. Ilirra passed them by without so much as a glance, never even noticing them drop the half-raised table before bowing multiple times.
    With a heart as heavy as stone and the brief confrontation all but forgotten, she wandered out into the hallway. She glided across the red carpet while passing the thick stained-glass windows shimmering with green, blue and yellow. They were partially hidden by dark red curtains tied back with golden ropes with white fringe. Drifting down the wide stairway fit for twenty soldiers to walk side by side, her mind raced with more pressing issues—concerns of a far more personal nature that easily took precedence over such petty squabbling.
    * * *
    Berkeni peered into his white pearl, straining hard while focusing all his effort on the task at hand. Milky-white swirls filled the tiny globe. His forehead crinkled with strain as beads of sweat dotted his face and moistened his thin, gray beard. Save for the faint bluish glow illuminating his deep-set eyes and the occasional twitch from his fingertips pressing against the small sphere, the thin man appeared to be as lifeless as a statue. The white swirls continued to roll about, forming misty abstract images that seemed to shift constantly.
    Hours went by as he scried, searching the impossibly large area for even the slightest signs of Eric and his companions. It was a hopeless task at which he continued to slave away at day after day, from the time he awoke until he collapsed across the table well into the night, a thankless duty he tirelessly tackled without ever second-guessing the fruitless results. He continued on in what had quickly become an obsessive daily routine, when the simple act of a gentle hand resting on his thin shoulder pulled him from his trance.
    “You won’t be any good to anyone if you’re dead,” came Addel’s sad but concerned voice from behind him. “You need to rest, or at least eat something. Believe me, no one questions your dedication, but even you must be wary of surpassing your body’s limits.”
    One by one his fingers slipped from the pearl, each thumping quietly against the table’s surface. The faint glow began to fade from his eyes. Milky swirls of white mist rolled about the globe for a few seconds longer, before finally thinning into nothing. With Berkeni’s eyes now clear and focused, he silently gazed about the room as if he didn’t recognize where he was, even though the scenery had not changed in years. The dark blue walls and thin brown hammock looked no different this day than on any other. A thin metal rack stood pressed up against the east wall, each