“Yes,” he replied absently. “Dafne will want to know that. But I think we need to take Hulda’s machinations very seriously. Whatever she’s plotting against Hestar will absolutely affect us.”
“From what you’ve said, women have no power in Dasnaria,” Ursula countered.
“No official or overt power,” he corrected. “Hulda may not have left the Imperial Palace since the day she entered it as a sixteen-year-old bride, but she’s used a life of enforced idleness to consolidate her influence. She ever was clever and ruthless. If anyone could discover how to extend her reach from the prison that is the Imperial Seraglio, it would be Hulda.”
“Arguably, Inga, at least, has done so also,” Ursula mused. “An apparent coincidence we can’t ignore.”
“There’s a reason Moranu showed me this vision,” I agreed. “Following our speculation that Hestar offered the treaty in order to tear Deyrr from this throat, then Hulda seeing his failure as an opportunity could mean she’s allied with the high priestess.”
“We know that they’ve been in the same place at the same time,” Harlan said. “I doubt Hulda would scruple at working with the practitioners if Deyrr if it furthered her ends.”
As I suspected. “Then my next question is if Kral will answer the summons.”
Harlan considered it seriously, in silent communication with Ursula. I knew full well that they couldn’t speak mind to mind—neither had those capabilities—but for all that, they seemed to hold more extensive conversations that way than Rayfe and I could.
“I’m going to say no,” Harlan finally replied. He shook his head minutely when Ursula shifted in disagreement, and spoke more to her than to me. “There was a time, certainly, when Kral wanted nothing else. And I’d be the first to condemn some of the things he’s done in pursuit of that power. But he’s a changed man.”
“Because of love?” Ursula sneered in derision.
Harlan tapped her on the nose, something I’d have once sworn to all three goddesses Ursula would never allow anyone to do. “Don’t pretend you don’t understand the capacity for love to make us want to become better people. Kral loves our Jepp, yes, and wants to do whatever it takes to keep her with him—but beyond that, Jepp opened his eyes to the more sordid aspects of the empire and our family. When you grow up embedded in a culture, when a way of doing things is all you’ve known all your life, it can be hard to see its flaws. Having someone you love and admire point out those flaws can make all the difference.”
“Many will argue that people don’t change—that they can’t change.”
“Then they don’t know us,” Harlan replied with quiet meaning.
She huffed, making him smile. “Well, this will be a good test. I just hope that if he decides to chase after Hulda’s offer that we won’t lose Jepp, too. Any other questions, Andi?”
“Not at the moment. Let’s head to the council chambers.”
“Is Rayfe meeting us there?” she asked as we resumed walking. She spoke with an innocent air, but I sensed her keen attention on me.
“I believe so,” I replied carefully. “Unless some emergency detains him.”
“Hmm.”
I knew that noncommittal hum of hers and Moranu take me if I would rise to that particular bait. We made it down another turn in the road before she spoke again. “He seemed out of sorts at the meeting yesterday.”
“We’re all out of sorts. It would be surprising if the pressure didn’t make us irritable.”
“Granted, but—”
“Auntie Andi! Auntie Andi!” A naked little girl with tumbling black curls ran at us full tilt. Ursula caught her neatly in her leap at me, snagging her around the middle with quick hands and holding her as she writhed.
“Easy, Nilly,” she cautioned. “Auntie Andi is pregnant, and we don’t leap on pregnant ladies.”
“I won’t break,” I replied, amused that even Ursula had adopted Ami and Ash’s habit of calling the twins Willy and Nilly.
“No, but you can bruise. Do you know who I am?” Ursula asked.
Our niece stilled and contemplated Ursula. “You’re Auntie Essla. Her Fucking Majesty.”
Ursula’s smile at Stella’s recognition faded into a frown. Harlan snorted, manfully swallowing a laugh. “I’ll be having words with your mother,” she said, passing Stella to me as Astar, still in bear form, came galloping towards us, his parents nowhere in sight. Stella planted kisses on my face with glee, squirming as I tried to plant a few on her.
“And here’s a fine bear cub,” Ursula declared, canting her head at Astar, “but where’s my nephew?”
Stella giggled. “That is him!”
Ursula got down on one knee, taking the bear cub tackle with a laugh, then wrestling him to the ground. Another sight I would’ve sworn could never be.
“Where are your clothes, missy?” I asked Stella.
She put her little hands on my cheeks, her lower lip thrusting out in a pout. “I don’t like them. Cats don’t wear clothes.”
“But cats don’t talk either,” I reminded her. “Walking, talking, and looking like people comes with certain rules, and clothes are one of them.”
“My mommy says I don’t have to wear clothes,” she insisted.
“Ah, but I am queen here, which means I outrank your mommy.”
Stella considered that, taking in my crown, her gray eyes solemn. “I thought you’re a sorceress.”
“I’m both.”
“Have you seen the other sorceress—the mean one with no eyes?”
Something in me stilled, frozen to the core. “Does she talk to you in dreams?”
“They’re not dreams.” Stella stared at me, betrayal crumpling her face. “I thought you would understand.”
I hugged her close, her little body so warm and thrumming with magic. “I do understand. And yes, I’ve seen her. I think you shouldn’t talk to her, no matter what she says.”
“All right. I don’t like her.”
“Me neither. I will teach you some tricks to make her go away.”
She nodded. Frowned. “Why is your hip hurt?”
“I was fighting a giant warthog and I caught a tusk in my hip,” I told her, not surprised she’d sensed my injury. Stella had the gift of empathy, a rare talent that I worried would bring her more grief than anything.
“There,” she said with a bright smile and another kiss. “I fixed it. Can I feel the baby?”
“Yes, but later, all right?” Quite a few Tala had gathered to watch the scene, quite amused by the sight of the High Queen wrestling a bear cub. Astar appeared to be winning, too. Harlan stood by laughing, so Ursula must not be in too much trouble. Ash arrived at a jog and dove in to assist.
“Stella Andromeda!” Ami’s stern voice rang out. “What have we discussed about being naked?”
“Uh oh.” Stella rounded her mouth, giving me a beseeching look. “She only uses my real name when I’m in trouble.”
“Just this once,” I whispered. I rarely used the power of the Heart to manifest things, and never frivolously, but I did this time. I set her down and was more than rewarded by Stella’s delighted smile as a simple Tala shift in a deep violet appeared above her head and settled over her in a loose swirl.
She grinned at Ami. “But Mommy, I’m not naked!”
Ami gave her a stern look, though her generous mouth twitched with suppressed amusement. “Say thank you to Auntie Andi.”
“Thank you to Auntie Andi!” Stella sang out.
Stella trotted over to watch as Ash and Marskal double-teamed the bear cub, pulling him off Ursula. She extracted herself, got to her feet, and punched the still laughing Harlan on the arm. “Traitor.”
Ami turned a radiant smile on me, crossing the last short distance to embrace me. She smelled of sunshine and roses, her hair like silk, and she felt like pure love in my mind. Being Glorianna’s avatar must be nice—no dark shadows or hard edges. “Andi, it is so good to see you!”
I returned the embrace. “L
ikewise. Sorry to roust you out of Windroven before you were ready.”
“But we were ready.” She released me, rearranging my hair around my face and shoulders for me, straightening the crown a little. “Nilly told us,” she added, raising her rose-gold brows, violet eyes wide.
I groaned in sympathy, glancing over to where the barefoot girl danced from foot to foot, apparently offering advice on the men trying to calm Astar, who was still a bear cub. “It was too much to hope that she’d escape the curse of foresight.”
“She says a mean woman with dead eyes has been talking to her. At first I thought it was a standard childhood nightmare, but…”
“Nothing so prosaic. Nilly just mentioned that to me, too. It has to be Deyrr’s high priestess. She almost certainly senses the mark of the Tala in Nilly.”
Ami’s soft, sensual mouth went hard and those lovely violet eyes sparked fire. “That bitch has no business messing with my child.”
Ah, there it was, the fierce face of love. Pretty, vain Ami would stop at nothing to protect the ones she loved. She and Ursula had that in common. “That’s one reason I wanted you all out of Windroven,” I told her.
Ami nodded in glum agreement. “She infiltrated the castle Glorianna only knows how long ago. Since Zynda and Marskal freed Djakos, we’ve tried to keep those lower levels sealed, but it’s fighting a losing battle. Sleeper spies keep creeping up from the depths.”
“I can help our Nilly,” I promised, hoping I wasn’t wrong. “That bitch won’t get to her again.”
“Thank you.” She took my hands and stepped back to survey my belly. “How are you feeling? I bet you’re at the ‘how in the Three can my body stretch any more?’ and ‘how can a bone be swollen?’ stage.”
I laughed. “That’s about right—and I keep reminding myself I’ll stretch more.”
“You get kind of used to it,” she confided. She ran a thoughtful finger over the ruby necklace lavishly sparkling beneath my collarbones. “Salena’s?”
“Yes.”
“Essla sent me a royal command to wear mine, but they don’t go with pink.” She made a face.
“Some things are more important than fashion accessorizing,” Ursula noted, coming to join us.
Ami sniffed, casting a jaundiced eye at the white dust and crushed flower petals decorating Ursula’s leathers. “Forgive me if I don’t take beauty tips from you, Auntie Essla.”
Ursula raised one auburn brow. “Don’t you mean ‘your fucking majesty’?”
Ami winced. “They’re like little sponges, only they soak up all the worst things, and none of what they’re supposed to.”
To our surprise, Ursula laughed and opened her arms. “I love you, too, Ami.”
They embraced, Ami’s sunrise hair a bright halo compared to Ursula’s deep red. But for all that they differed in so many ways—Ursula all lean, sharp lines where Ami was lush as a blossom—the stamp of sisterhood showed clearly. Parting, they both looked to me, extending hands to include me in the circle. Me, the night darkness, the shadows, also like and unlike.
A vision stirred, this one clearly from the long ago past. Salena, as a much younger woman, standing in this same spot and seeing us three, her daughters in the far future. I looked across the years at her, those storm gray eyes exactly like my own, the same ruby necklace glittering around her throat. She gazed right back at me, dipping her chin in acknowledgment, and the years tightened like a string abruptly yanked, so that we almost stood in the same time as well as the same place.
She lifted a hand in greeting, smiled at us.
And the moment was gone.
~ 9 ~
“Andi?” Ursula studied me with a sharp gaze, the gray of her eyes lighter, steely, with a hint of blue, like the keen edge of a silver blade. Like and unlike the eyes I’d just stared into across the years. And Ami’s limpid blue, just enough gray in them to lend that violet cast, like the sky moments before dawn.
I nearly didn’t say, but… Salena belonged to them, too, her magic in their blood, the lines of her face in theirs. “I saw our mother just now. Standing right here, as clearly as either of you. She was having a vision of the future, seeing us in this moment.”
Ursula looked briefly stricken before she mastered her expression. “Was there a message?”
I shook my head. “I think she simply glimpsed us in the future.”
“Was she happy?” Ami asked, tentative, hopeful.
“I’m not sure she was ever happy, but she was pleased to see us. Proud,” I added, and when they both smiled, I was glad I had.
“Is this a private conversation, or should I take my adorable daughter to be cooed over elsewhere?”
We all turned as one, exclaiming over Dafne, who’d arrived at a far more sedate pace. Petite, with gold-streaked bronze hair and caramel-brown eyes, Dafne beamed at us. She’d tanned to a copper warmth during her time in Nahanau, and grown sleek with happiness. Her husband, King Nakoa KauPo loomed possessively behind her, the lightning streaks sizzling in his dark curls, the dragon-scale tattoos dancing across his muscled arms and bare chest. A goofy smile spread across his otherwise stern visage. Dafne held a small bundle in her arms, wrapped in a sage-green silk blanket embroidered with looping dragons in copper thread.
“How are you even out of bed?” Ami exclaimed, deftly extracting the baby from Dafne, and holding her while Ursula and I peered over her shoulders. “It took me days and days just to stand on my own.”
“Because you nearly bled to death,” Ursula reminded her, and Ami wrinkled her nose at the memory.
Dafne leaned back against Nakoa, who put big hands on her shoulders, squeezing proudly. “Being Kiraka’s human companion comes with decided benefits,” she explained. “I feel like new again, which is good, since a woman my age shouldn’t be cavalier about having babies.”
“You even look ten years younger,” Ami complained, “which is so not fair.”
“No fear, Your Highness,” Dafne said in a wry tone. “I won’t ever be competing for your title of most beautiful woman in the known world.”
“Only the known world?” Ami sniffed, then cooed at the baby. “You are the mostest beautiful, aren’t you? So precious, my darling. Where’s Ash? Ash, I need to have another baby.”
Ash, still wrestling Astar the bear cub while Stella clung to his back, her arms wrapped around his neck, throttling him as she chattered merrily, called back. “Right this minute? Because I’ll need to get undressed.”
“Maybe you should wait for us to finish the war first.” Ursula commented drily.
“Oh,” Ami huffed in disgust. “You have no heart, Essla. Here.” She slipped the baby into Ursula’s arms, adjusting and supporting Ursula’s hold until she was satisfied. “Now look at this precious face. Look—tiny fingers! Take a sniff. There’s nothing sweeter smelling than a newborn. Can’t you just feel your womb throbbing for one of your own?”
Ursula leveled a steely look on her. “No.” But she did bend to sniff, then placed a kiss on the infant’s forehead. “Danu’s bright blessings on you, little one. May She guide your steps with a clear hand, wisdom, and fair justice. Have you named her yet, Dafne?”
“Well…” Dafne looked between the three of us, put her hands on Nakoa’s where they rested on her shoulders still. “We’ve settled on a first choice, but wanted to ask for your permission. We’d like to name her Salena.”
“Oh, how wonderful.” Ami’s voice came out hushed and weepy. “I say yes.”
Ursula looked less convinced, tipping her head at my belly. “I thought Andi might want to use that name.”
Dafne’s face flushed with chagrined color. “Oh, Andi! How thoughtless of me. Of course you should—”
“No,” I broke in, realizing I’d set my hands on my rounded belly, something I rarely did in public, given how uncomfortable the Tala were. Surrounded by my sisters—found and by blood—I let myself relax, smoothing my fingers over the taut mound. “Don’t give it another thought. We’ll be havi
ng a boy and I don’t know that he’d like ‘Salena’ for a name.”
“Well, pray Danu you won’t name him ‘Uorsin,’” Ursula muttered.
“No prayers needed there,” I returned in the same tone.
“But for your next child,” Dafne insisted. “You may yet have a daughter.”
“My turn,” I told Ursula, taking the baby from her. She looked a little abashed that she seemed to have grown comfortable holding her. I studied the little girl’s face, her warm weight a comfort in my arms. Magic in her, yes. Not the mark of the Tala, but Nakoa’s sort—of earth, ocean, and storm. “I like ‘Salena’ for her. Even if we should be blessed with a daughter, we wouldn’t use that name. It’s not a good name for a Tala child anymore—too much bitter history there—but for a daughter of Nahanau, child of Salena’s adopted daughter, it’s a fine name. An auspicious one.”
“Thank you,” Dafne whispered.
“If you agree?” I asked Ursula and she nodded, eyes soft with rare mist.
I kissed the baby’s soft forehead, inhaling the sweetness of new life. “Moranu’s blessings on you, young Salena. May you have the power of flexibility, the ability to embrace change, and may magic illuminate your darkest nights.”
Ami took her from me, kissing little Salena in the same spot. “Glorianna’s blessings on you, sweet Salena, namesake of the fiercest of queens, one who sacrificed her heart for us. May you always have what she did not: love.”
Ami nestled the baby into Dafne’s arms, then wiped the streaming tears from Dafne’s cheeks with her thumbs. Nakoa nodded gravely.
“Many thanks to you all,” he said in Common Tongue. “With such blessings, our daughter shall surely thrive.”
“Your Common Tongue is excellent, Your Highness,” I said, then wondered if I sounded too surprised.
He cracked a small smile, squeezing Dafne’s shoulders. “I have a fierce taskmistress. And, please, call me Nakoa, heart-sister. This is the correct term, yes?”
The Fate of the Tala Page 11
