Read Online Tears of Leyden by Naomi Baysinger-Ott - Free Book Online Page A

he had more to say, but is unsure how to put it. As I process his words, I feel like the pounding in my pulse grows louder. I understand.
    “What happened to them?” I can hear the light tremble in my voice, but in this moment nothing matters more to me than what floats about in his thoughts due to my family.
    His face is grave. “They…were…no,” he stops and looks down a moment. “They were…” He looks up to me, speaking in a firm but worried tone. “Promised protection…but the lie only lasted long enough for them to…”
    He does not finish, but the very word about to come from his mouth rings in my head like a siren; prosecute.
    “I’m so sorry…” His words are there, but the ringing prevents them from entering farther than my awareness of them.
    At first I cannot feel anything. I had relied so confidently on the thought that they were only outlawed, or at least alive. Now I see that for the past several hours, I had been wrong. I had lost everything. I had been alone. Alone .
    This is what brings the reaction crawling back in. A sensation of loss and loneliness enter so quickly the next moment I cannot process the emotionless feeling being there before. I feel hollow, but full of remorse at the same time. I feel nothing but everything.
    “No…” It comes out soft and disbelieving. “No, no, no, no, no…”
    That is half of how I feel. The other half knew; it knew when I left them the day we were separated. I just hadn’t let it make conscious evidences as much as the other.
    I slowly reach for the chair in order that if I should fall, I would be sitting at least. I feel my hand clenching the chair, and as I try to pull it back, I feel I am trembling. I plop down into it and stare across the table’s wood at nothing. I feel something large and hard form in the back of my throat but my eyes stay clear. I cannot move for what feels like a long time as it washes through me, the fact that moeder and Meyleia are no longer tangible to me. After a moment, instead of fading, the ringing gets louder and I feel a tug in my heart. I cover my face with my hands and breathe. No tears come, but the trembling in my chest and churning in my stomach are enough for me to feel my pain.
    “Lyra…” I can’t even put out the knowledge that he is using my improper name. When I raise my face from my hands though, I see that they are a little wet. I do not look at him. I can’t. Not after…
    I choke back a sob and place my hands cupped together in my lap, trying to keep them from trembling so hard. I can tell that he is watching and I don’t want him to, I don’t want him to know what I do after this.
    “Can I help you?”
    The pain surges with his question, and I suddenly feel tortured to have to be in a room with someone of the decent that killed my family. I stand, not hurriedly, no, but cautiously balancing myself. The doctor always said I had a knack for low blood pressure, and that if I took shock, I could easily faint at my will, which I don’t want to, but he never said anything about being able to stop a faint against my will. I turn away and start for the door to his room.
    “Lyra…” It is gentle.
    I reach the door as he says it, and I brush against the wall, leaning on the door frame.
    “What could help…you forget…?”
    The words are harmless, but the meaning scares me. Forget Moeder and Meyleia. No. Without meaning to I grow breathless and I tense up in my stomach. I don’t feel it as I slowly sink down and flutter to the floor. I land lightly, and it is almost graceful like a bird, my dress floating out around me like a moat of blue over my legs. Nadeje rises almost instantly.
    “Lyra…”
    He comes to me urgently but carefully, seeming to know by now that fast movements could frighten me. He kneels down with me and sits at the edge of the lace in the bottom of my dress, like it is a boundary which surrounds me, his borders and my protection displayed by the fabric. I can tell he is