Shadows and Embers

by Lindsey Richardson

  The tears did not stop, but Alaire looked over at me.

  “I killed him. The fool was too busy with Celestria to pay attention to me,” I explained.

  Silence. Alaire shook his head, but I persisted.

  “Esmour wasted his entire life planning attacks on a man who died from a dagger through his chest.” I chuckled, though in truth there was nothing comical about it. It was sickening to think that I had been the one to do it, and for some reason I couldn't get the thought out of my head. Was it something I was supposed to be proud of it? Was it an accomplishment, or was this turning into an obsession? I had not wanted to be the one to kill Aldemund. It seemed like a task only Esmour was meant to do.

  “And Celestria?”

  I shrugged. “I thought she'd be okay, but I don't know what happened... I gave her a dagger.”

  Alaire's expression changed entirely.

  “You gave her a dagger?” he asked, nearly chocking on the words.

  “Yes,” I answered slowly. “She's stronger than you think.”

  “I know her strength; she's been fighting by my side ever since we met,” Alaire replied.

  I could not look him in the eyes, for I knew he blamed me for Celestria's condition. He had every right to use me as a scapegoat; I was the one he had trusted to save her. Silence filled the hallway as Alaire stood by one side of the door and I stood by the other. The wait was not comforting; it allowed the weight of deaths I was responsible for seem heavier than usual. The men I had killed, the people I hadn't saved, the lives I took for granted... It weighed down like an anchor over me. For brief periods I would glance over at Alaire, but he refused to look my way. It seemed like Celestria was his world, his only pride and joy in life. Considering everything he had gone through, I could understand why a pretty, young girl could change his world. I envied him for it; I had no one like that.

  Rahela had been my world... I thought. Sighing, I turned my head toward the door. Why was I thinking of Rahela now?

  You're dead, darling. You're dead. Even with that thought, the image of her bright smile lingered in my head. In the empty hallway it felt like she stood nearby always watching, always listening.

  “Do you want to take her home... after this?” I asked in a desperate attempt to change the subject.

  Alaire finally turned to me, though his face was wet from teardrops. “I've always wanted to take her home.”

  At that, the door flung open, nearly hitting me, and Daciana announced that she was done. She applied herbs on the major wounds, but she explained that she was running short on materials because of using numerous on Alaire.

  Once Alaire and I were standing in the room, she added, “Take her directly home to your healer. I'd join you, but Grefin gave me strict orders to stay. As for Celestria, she should remain unconscious for the journey.”

  “Fortunately,” she continued, “Aldemund didn't scar all of Celestria's body. Scars are the least of our worries. Her neck was severely burned, which might explain the blood in her mouth. Alas, it's difficult to determine if magic is the cause behind the blood or it is something internal.”

  “You can't determine the cause?” I asked with fists formed.

  “I have spent all of my time and powers on Alaire. Have you seen me leave his side? Have you seen me properly resting? No, but I risked it all to save this man's life. I warned Celestria about Belsgar, and she refused to listen. I'm sincerely sorry for her condition, but this is a casualty you cannot afford,” she snapped.

  Alaire spoke up at last. “I made a promise to Celestria before she left, and I intend to keep it. She will not die so long as I am alive.”

  Daciana smiled at him, and I wondered what kind of promise he could have made that even she approved of.

  “Let's go,” I whispered.

  “I'd like to see her first,” Alaire said just loud enough for me to hear. Abruptly he handed over the cane into my hands.

  “But Alaire...”

  I didn't bother finishing, and either way he would have ignored me entirely. He staggered closer to the bed, looking as if at any given moment his legs would crumble to the ground.

  Daciana leaned over to me and whispered, “His leg has healed nicely. Now it's simply a matter of him being ready to walk without the cane.”

  I grunted, though I didn't take my eyes off of him. Eventually he reached the bed and brushed his hand against the mattress. Then he reached out to her and stroked her hair. The way he looked at her was as if he had known her for centuries, like nothing could separate them. He looked older leaning over her with the candlelight only reflecting onto the one side of his face.

  Daciana whispered again. “You should leave now. She's unconscious for the time being, but when she wakes up it will be painful.”

  “Old man, we're leaving,” I called out.

  Alaire glanced up, and a faint smile appeared on his face.

  I advanced toward him and returned the cane. As I carefully lifted up Celestria, Alaire patted Muta's head as he sat patiently waiting for us.

  “What about Vinur?” Alaire asked.

  That damn horse... Even with tears filling his eyes, Alaire never forgot about the animal.

  “Muta can come back for him, but he might need to stay with you in Neutadt for a while before he returns. We don't usually send him out with such a large group, and it's essential that he rests,” Daciana explained.

  Alaire wobbled over to stand by my side, and then we stood silently as Muta circled around us. The last thought that ran through my head was that I carried the most dangerous secret in the pocket of my vest. Fear struck me as I wondered if Celestria would ever have the chance to be reunited with her sister. Then the flashes of light appeared, and within seconds we arrived in the backyard of my home.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The Protector

  As I approached the house, Celestria remained motionless and seemingly lifeless. Liliana was already outside, and the moment she spotted us she started running. Then she saw Celestria, and she quickly turned the other way and ran to the house for help.

  “You'd think she had never seen me carry a lady in the house before,” I remarked.

  “Leal!” Liliana shouted from the house, as if she expected me to run to her.

  “Christ,” I murmured, trying to motion for her to be quiet. It was mid-afternoon with the sun shining brightly in the sky. There would be people out in the streets carrying on with their ordinary lives, and I didn't want to draw unnecessary attention.

  Mama and Gavril showed up outside of the door as we approached closer. Gavril rushed to where we were.

  “I can carry her, master,” Gavril offered, holding out his hands.

  Though I thought about rejecting him, my arms couldn't hold her forever. I was weak from the fight and hadn't been healed properly. I couldn't drop her all because of my pride, so I placed her into Gavril's arms. I followed behind him with Alaire at my side. Once we reached the door Mama opened her mouth as if she had something to say, but I held up my hand and stopped her.

  “Mother, this is Celestria. We'll do introductions later, but I have to secure her first,” I said quickly, pursuing after Gavril who was already walking through the open doorway.

  Gavril led us to the first guest room he found on the first level of the house, and set Celestria down to rest. A realization occurred to me as he started to fix the bed sheets so that she was lying flat on the mattress. In Belsgar I had managed to both take away life and fail in saving another. Guilty is the man who has taken lives, yet guilty is also the man who cannot save a life. It didn't matter that I killed one of our greatest threats. How could that matter when Celestria could be dying in my own home?

  “Master?”

  I looked down at Celestria, who has remained unconscious all this time.

  “The procedure will begin now,” Gavril said lightly.

  “I can't watch... I'm sorry,” I whispered, but Gavril nodded like he understood. I touched Celestria's hand, squeezin
g it gently. Her skin was as cold as ice. Retrieving my hand, I stared for the door. Alaire walked past me as I was leaving, and I noticed he was walking with less of a limp.

  Touching my shoulder, he whispered in my ear, “I'll watch over her.”

  Alaire released me, but I felt like I couldn't breathe. I was guilty; I should be in the room helping. Even as I shut the door behind me, I was guilty for not being strong enough to see to it that Celestria made it through. No one would dare to question it. If I had done it to my mother, it wouldn't be different with Celestria. The servants would not say anything, but they didn't have to. It was the uncomfortable tightening of their jaws that gave it away every time. He could be doing more, they'd think. That is what everyone is inclined to think when they haven't seen the blood on a battlefield, or the life in someone's eyes fade away. They're insensitive and arrogant because they haven't a clue about any of it.

  All of a sudden, there was a girl's scream coming directly from the guest room. It was Celestria; it had to be her, but I was too stunned to move.

  “I love her...” I mumbled. The words escaped from my lips, and then the reality of them sunk in. Why would I say something like that when I barely knew Celestria? There were plenty of women I had 'loved' in my life; all of whom had come and go as easily as the breeze on a summer's day. The uncomfortable feeling returned like Rahela was standing in the hallway, and I imagined how beautiful she'd look in one of her pure, white dresses. She'd be young and innocent just as she had been and always will be. I couldn't love anyone the way I loved Rahela. Another woman could not die at my hands; there would be no more blood spilled because of my heart's desires.

  “Leal?” a woman's voice called out.

  “Rahela?”

  Turning around, I saw it was a woman I had not seen or spoken to in months. Her face was fully visible with her hair held back in a long braid. She wore a red dress with gold thread lining the edges accompanied by a long silver chain around her neck. Her eyes twinkled, and her skin looked smooth and rich like cream. It was like I had never seen this woman before in all of her beauty, standing before me with a frown that nearly broke my heart. It would easier if I could hate her than fall prey to her deceit.

  “How long have you been here?” I asked.

  Nicia shrugged. “I arrived this morning to see if you had returned. Your mother was worried, so I agreed to stay until you returned.”

  “Leave,” I growled.

  “Who's in there?” she asked, inclining her head toward the door.

  I crossed my arms. My eyes lowered to her lips, and for the slightest instant I remembered the kiss we exchanged. That night so long ago when the world could have been crashing down on us, but her lips were like a cushion that had caught me when I fell.

  “I saw her from your bedroom window. You thought I was Rahela,” Nicia remarked. The memory of the kiss faded to the back of my mind, and then she pulled her necklace up from underneath the fabric. The dress had been hiding the pendant: her Destin ring.

  “I thought Esmour destroyed your ring? That's what he's always done with the others.”

  “And you believed him? I hope I'm the first one to tell you, but Esmour hid many secrets and told hundreds of lies to cover them up,” Nicia said.

  Shaking my head, I looked away and stared at the wall in front of me. Perhaps if I said nothing at all she would leave.

  “Some days I wish for nothing more but to be able to return to the lives we lived when Destin existed. Ha, I even miss Esmour, and you know how much I loathed him,” Nicia spoke softly. I smirked at her remark, but I also knew I was already caught in her web. Now it was a matter of her either spinning me and claiming the prize or releasing me.

  “But most of all,” she continued, “I wish I could return to the days when I watched you, Malin, and Alaire making fools out of each other. It seems like such a long time since then, you know? I never stopped praying for Malin to come home...” her voice became quieter with the mentioning of his name.

  Refusing to face her, I said, “That man was a falcon locked up in a cage. He could have been anybody, but he stayed with Destin, hoping that someday Esmour would give him the key. Wherever he is, he's better off.”

  Her hand rested on the back of my head, sliding down to caress my neck. Her fingers were thinner than usual; I could feel the bones while she touched me. I turned to her slowly, realizing all too late how close we were. Her index finger brushed against my lips, and briefly it didn't feel like I was trapped in a web. I felt like I finally was home now that she was by my side.

  “If Rostland lays a hand on you, I'll kill him,” I whispered, looking her directly in the eyes.

  She snorted. “If he hears you talking like that, he'll kill you.”

  Then with a more serious approach, she added, “But he hasn't and he won't. I will never let a man shame me in such a manner.”

  I kissed her forehead, and then with a crooked grin I said, “Now leave my house before I pick you up and run out into the streets with you like a mad man.”

  Nicia laughed again; something I doubted I had ever witnessed twice in the same day. At last she gave me one last long stare, and then she turned around and headed for the staircase. Before she made more than five steps, she turned her head slightly toward me.

  “You really don't remember what I said, do you?” she asked.

  “Remember what?”

  She shook her head and kept walking, and with that I accepted that perhaps whatever she was referring to had no importance at all. Once she was out of sight, the guest room door creaked open and Alaire squeezed out. He appeared paler than before and his teeth chattered, but he held the door open and then at last said something.

  “Gavril wishes to speak with you,” he said. At my hesitation he added, “You won't see anything; he's only just begun.”

  I nodded, but my feet would not move. It was like they were frozen into the ground. Every muscle in my body tensed as I stood there trying to force myself into the room. The door was only cracked wide enough for Alaire's body to lean against it. Even though I couldn't see Celestria, I was certain she was in the same position as before.

  Something hot touched me. Alaire offered his hand to me, and after a moment of hesitation I accepted. Taking hold of his hand, I feared that Alaire would see that I literally could not move. Within seconds he proved me wrong, grabbing onto my hand and gently guiding me into the room.

  I let go of his hand and rushed over to the bed. Perhaps the reason Gavril hadn't continued was because something had gone wrong. When I glanced down I gasped, noticing that Celestria's eyes were open. She did not look directly at me, but rather her focus seemed to be on the nightstand beside the bed. Her hands were clinging onto something, and there was a ring on her third finger. Despite the fact that her hands would not stay still, I recognized the ring. She wore Alaire's destin ring and clutched in her fists was his cross necklace. In all the years I knew Alaire, I had never seen him take off the necklace. He had even worn it during the downfall of Destin.

  “She's awake?” I asked at last, hoping Alaire could not see the confusion in my expression.

  Gavril answered me. “Yes, but that's not why I called for you. Celestria is...”

  “What? She is what? Speak up man!” I shouted at him. My voice echoed in the room, and gazing at Celestria again I regretted my reaction.

  “This is more serious than anything I've seen before. The scars aren't something I can heal with magic. Considering all of the injuries, I'm not certain it would be safe to continue,” he explained.

  “Safe to continue? Of course it's not safe; she's fragile, and you have to heal her,” I countered.

  “Master, I would not deny this lady her life. However, I can't promise that my methods will help her. Look at her,” he pointed. “She's not responsive to anything. I fear that she's isn't strong enough to fight this battle.”

  “Then what do you need from me? More money?”

  “Your riches will not sa
ve this woman,” he said gravely.

  “I will double your pay,” I insisted.

  “I know this is difficult... but she is in a lot of pain. The moment she was conscious she screamed, and I hadn't even started the procedure,” Gavril answered.

  Alaire took a step toward him.

  “I agree with Leal. I nearly died for Celestria; she will not die for me. This woman fought for our freedom, defended us when no one else would. You owe it to her.” His stance was firm, even with his cane, and his voice did not shake.

  Gavril nodded slowly and then replied, “Once I begin I can't promise anything.”

  I held out my hand, and he shook it. Placing my other hand on top of his, I said, “Good because I expect you to do your job.”

  I gestured to Alaire that we should leave, but once again he insisted on staying. Despite my curiosity about the jewelry, I allowed it to pass and exited the room. Muta was curled up in the hallway, and I picked him up and lead him back to my bedchamber. He needed his rest and the thought of sleeping sounded more appealing than waiting in suspense while Gavril worked. It occurred to me that at some point we would have to come to terms with what Aldemund's death meant. Anyone in Belsgar that had listened to me knew who I was, and sooner or later they would come to seek me out for the crime I committed. I was not the only one who had committed a crime, though; someone had to pay for Esmour's death. Perhaps two of the greatest magicians of our era were now dead. Let the war of light and dark begin...

  Chapter Twenty

  Behind the Crime

  Alaire woke me up, dragging the blankets off from my body and mumbling something about Celestria. I followed after him, leaving Muta behind in the bedroom, but all the while I thought about Aldemund. I could still hear his body splashing into the water, dripping like everything he once was could be demolished in one splash. Were these thoughts running through Alaire's head or did he only see Celestria lying on a bed? He hadn't been there and could not grasp what it was like to suck the life out of a man we had learned to fear for years.