Elaine placed the cup on the table. “What do you want to know?”
“If you already know everything about your past, why do you still need Hame?”
“He needs to find the key. Without it, I can’t send Xadrak back to his realm.”
“Can’t another oracle locate it? There must be others.”
“Loic said Hame would be our best chance to find what we need to defeat Xadrak. Not all oracles get all visions, but Loic and Hame, perhaps having worked with me, are specially attuned to visions about Xadrak.”
“And what does the key unlock?”
Elaine didn’t speak and Aurelia knew that whatever it was, she wasn’t going to approve. But she’d made a promise to help and that meant knowing everything.
“Tell me.”
“The key unlocks the portal to Xadrak’s realm.”
She got the impression Elaine hadn’t told the whole truth. “You’ve already located the portal, haven’t you? Where is it?”
“Right now, they’re in Seville.”
“They? You don’t mean…” Her mind stuttered over the memory of the twins the night they’d been turned. “But they’re not human anymore.”
“Even better. They’re practically indestructible and they’re immortal.”
She tasted copper. The matter-of-fact way Elaine said it, as if she had been talking about the weather or the latest harvest… “We don’t mean anything to you, do we?”
Elaine’s nostrils flared. “You cannot possibly understand how it makes me feel to know I’ve given birth to children who I have to use. Think of me as an uncaring monster if it makes it easier, but you put yourself in my place and see how you’d handle it.”
Elaine shot out of her chair towards the door.
“Surely there’s an alternative.”
Elaine stopped at the doorway and gripped the wall, her head hanging down. “There isn’t. Thierry and Olivier form the doorway through which Xadrak must be banished.”
“What happens to them once it’s done?”
Elaine sighed and returned into the room, but the more she said, the more Aurelia shrank into her chair.
“There has to be another way,” she whispered to herself.
“I pray we find one, but I fear it’s unlikely.”
“Does Hame know?”
Elaine nodded. “Loic kept him informed. He was there during many of my visits.”
“So he knows what he has to do?”
“Now more than ever. You say you want to help him? Then we need to find a way he can access his visions with the same control Loic had. Right now, it’s too haphazard.”
“But if Loic couldn’t teach him, how can we?”
Elaine shrugged. “I have to try.”
“He won’t listen to you. Not after what’s happened to Loic.”
“He has to.”
“Send me instead.”
“But I know your abilities. I haven’t taught you to scry yet, and that’s probably our best hope.”
Aurelia sat up. “What’s scrying?”
“The ability to see people and places you already know from a distance. You use a smooth surface as your point of focus, and then, with luck or skill, you’ll see whatever it is as if it’s in front of you.”
Her heart fluttered inside her chest. I can see Hame whenever I want.
“Teach me now.”
“We haven’t the time.”
“We do. Hame needs to be alone to grieve. Give me two days and if I haven’t learned by then, we’ll try something else.”
Elaine regarded her. She worried her mother could see into her heart. She wanted to help their higher cause, of course, but the mere thought of Hame made her blood hot. The heat rose rapidly and the edges of it burned beneath her skin. Elaine looked away as it burst onto her cheeks.
“Come with me.”
She followed her mother into the workshop in the next room. Shelves ran along the back wall, heavy with vellum tomes. Scattered here and there were rocks and feathers, bits of bone and antlers, knives and goblets and wands. Elaine lifted a large bowl off a shelf and placed it on the long wooden table in the center of the room. She went around to the far side while Aurelia stood opposite.
“This is safe, isn’t it?” she asked.
“Yes. Xadrak won’t be able to interfere. It’ll be like looking through a window at a storm without being in it yourself.”
“But how will this help Hame? I’m not able to see the future.”
“If we can get him to scry, he should be able to use what Loic taught him to project and divine.”
Even if Hame accepted her tutelage, she worried he’d scoff at what she had to say. Hame had lived with Loic for years and no doubt had learned everything he could. Hame probably knew things she had never even thought of. She’d feel silly going to him with this, like a child offering its toy sword to a blooded knight.
But she bent her head and listened to the instructions. The scrying bowl was three-quarters filled with water and lined with silver. The goal was to unfocus her eyes, and to let her mind see through the shimmering silver as it filled her vision. She waited for the world beyond the window to shift.
Nothing happened.
She continued to stare, waiting for her mother’s disapproval to pierce her wavering concentration. Eventually it came, and though she’d been expecting it the sharp sound made her jump.
“Well?”
“Nothing.” She straightened her back.
Elaine tutted. “You’re not concentrating.”
Aurelia ground her teeth and bent over the bowl once more. She wouldn’t argue. Instead, she poured her already stretched concentration into seeing something in the bowl, but the harder she tried, the more aware she became of Elaine’s eyes boring into her. She flicked up her head.
“It’d be a lot easier if you weren’t standing there.”
Elaine huffed, but left the room. Aurelia didn’t dwell on the thought that Elaine might have left because she knew it was hopeless. Instead, she was grateful she’d taken heed.
The pressure in the room shifted with Elaine’s departure, and Aurelia now felt more at ease. She brought over a chair and began again.
Hame. I’m doing this for Hame.
With her goal in mind, she let her vision blur.
Hame.
The silver stayed silver, but she didn’t let that bother her. She let her mind drift with thoughts of Hame. His face appeared as it had the night before, those blood-red lips downturned and his green eyes so heavy and sad.
Because of me.
The thought struck her; a sting so sudden she cried out. She tried to get herself under control, sniffing hard and wiping away tears as even more came.
Because of her, Loic had died and Hame suffered. The guilt clawed her insides. She couldn’t have known this would happen, but that didn’t lessen her pain. The only thing she could do was to make it up to Hame as best she could.
Perhaps by being more than just a guiding hand.
The resolution drained her sorrow and the mist cleared from her eyes. She peered into the scrying bowl, seeking Hame and vowing she wouldn’t move until she’d found him.
Hooks sunk ever deeper into Elaine’s heart when she heard Aurelia cry, and they hauled her to within steps of her daughter. She ached to put her arms around her and hold her close, but she resisted. Aurelia was proud and wouldn’t want to be seen in so wretched a state. Though her daughter bled, she dragged herself out of earshot.
Her concern for Aurelia didn’t ease. She fidgeted, anxious for the day to pass and to hear a triumphant hollering. She paced up and down the tunnel, from the vaulted chamber to her sanctuary and back again. Her home became a dungeon, the rooms too small, the walls too thick. The mountain crushed her.
The thoughts of what she should be doing with her time stole the oxygen out of the air. She could have searched for another oracle, or strengthened her mind, or meditated on ways to confront Xadrak on the astral plane without fear of
being torn to shreds. But she was in too much turmoil.
She had to get outside. She ran through the tunnel and emerged into the fresh air of the Pyrenees. Her troubles dispersed like flies shooed from a rotting carcass.
Soon twilight would descend, that calm part of the day she loved so much up here. She hadn’t appreciated it when she’d lived in Carcassonne, the narrow streets and the confines of the town yoking her head down. But back then she’d been interested in other things, having fallen for Henri.
She shook her head. They’d both been so different when they’d first met. They had always rubbed against each other, but at first it had been flirtation. Like so many of the women, she’d been made for work. There was no time to be demure and coquettish. Men wanted women who had a bit of fire, and she had that in abundance. Thrown together with Henri’s heat, there wasn’t an inferno quite like theirs. For all that he was combustible, he wasn’t then the brute he later became. There had been love; she had to believe that. It seemed too cruel to think she’d never had any.
But it seemed a lifetime ago now, and up here with the blushing sky now it was unimportant.
“Mother!”
Aurelia’s call shot down the tunnel, and Elaine turned her head. Her daughter soon appeared with a victorious smile on her face.
My daughter. Elaine’s heart swelled.
“You did it?” She couldn’t help but match Aurelia’s grin.
Aurelia nodded enthusiastically, appearing like the child Elaine had once abandoned. How many moments like this had she missed?
Elaine’s smile faltered. She tried to save it, but the wound gouged too deep and it crashed. Her daughter saw and shut her pride away suddenly.
“I may have taken a while, but at least it’s done.” She shifted on her heel and disappeared back inside.
Elaine wanted to run after her. There was still much to teach her tonight: how to travel through the ether by herself, for instance, a skill she’d kept out of her daughter’s reach in case she came looking for her. But she held back. Nothing she said could make up for what she’d put her daughter through. Making her strong, independent, and powerful had once seemed like good consolation, but it fell short.
Sighing with her whole body, she stayed to watch night fall and the comfort of twilight fade.
XII
“Hame,” Aurelia called through the door. “Please let me in.”
He knew she’d be coming for him. Another damn vision had plummeted into his head the day before. Like a meteor falling from the sky, his world reverberated with the power of it, knowing what he’d seen was the future and how it would decimate him.
He struggled to hold onto Loic’s memory. He wanted to disappear into the grief that had sucked on his bones, but the vision of Aurelia had dislodged its lips.
And now she was here.
She knocked again, a timid sound, but it echoed inside the empty hut. He hadn’t tidied away Loic’s cot. In fact, he’d slept on it since the night Loic died, inhaling what remained of his bark-like scent. When he woke the next morning in a fog, he believed Loic was there, a heavy arm wrapped around him. But his mind cleared, reality returned, and he grieved again. He still didn’t clear away Loic’s things, but their—his—home felt empty.
Aurelia stopped knocking, and he thought she might leave. He didn’t know whether he wanted that or not. She’d brought him solace the night Loic died. He couldn’t deny how good it felt to have her in his arms, how it completed him. He’d felt her grief, through whatever connection they had, and he’d wondered how deep it ran. But the visions of her frightened him. After all, she was Elaine’s daughter.
He swung out of bed and gripped the edge of the cot. Looking around the room, he sighed at how lifeless the place had become in a short space of time. The hearth had gone cold. Food had started to rot, dispersing a sickly-sweet smell into the air. He lifted an arm and sniffed his pit, the musk making his nose wrinkle. Loic would have chided him for getting like this.
But that would mean Loic would be here.
Aurelia banged again. He wasn’t going to get any peace if he didn’t tell her to go. He stamped over to the door and wrenched it open.
She paused mid-knock, and her eyes swept down his body. She blushed and looked away. He looked at himself, realizing he was wearing only a pair of underdrawers, and even then, they didn’t cover much. With a curse, he slammed the door and hurriedly dressed. When he returned, he was sure he caught a glimpse of disappointment in her eyes, but it was gone too fast for him to be certain.
“I thought you might like some food.” She offered a basket filled to the brim with bread, meat, fruit and a bottle of mead.
His body turned to stone as the vision and reality slid perfectly over one another. The moment he invited her over the threshold, he would never be rid of her.
“I’m sorry, Aurelia. I don’t want you here.”
Her body jerked; the basket dipped. She composed herself quickly, and a painted smile brushed across her face. His hand squeezed the doorframe.
“I know it’s a bit soon after Loic’s passing, but it’s not good to be alone.”
“I don’t mean any offence, but what do you know about it?”
“I’ve lost people too, Hame. I might not know exactly how you felt about Loic, but I know what it is to lose people you love.”
“Then you should accept that I want to be left alone.”
“But you’re never alone, are you? He haunts you. I can see it in the shadows in your eyes. You’re stuck, but I can help you.”
“No, you can’t. You’ll make it worse.”
“You think I’m going to hurt you?” Her eyes narrowed.
Jagged rocks tumbled down his throat. “No, I didn’t mean…look, I—”
She thrust the basket at him. “Take it, I’m leaving. I should just let you starve.”
He held up his hands, refusing to accept the basket. “Let me explain.”
When he wouldn’t take the basket, she let it drop to the ground. It tipped and the food spilled onto the dirt.
She turned and walked away.
His heart mashed with each step she took.
This was what he wanted, wasn’t it? If she left him alone, he wouldn’t get sucked into the hurricane she and her family whipped up. He wouldn’t get these cursed visions any longer.
You know that’s a lie.
He cringed at the disappointed voice inside his head. How many times had Loic told him he was meant for great things, only to be rejected by his pupil every time? He hated Loic’s persistence, and prayed he’d give up on him because the shame weakened him. And here he was, knowing that Aurelia brought with her the steps to achieving what Loic—no, what he—had always wanted, and he was sending her away.
I’m a coward and a disgrace.
“Aurelia, wait!”
He ran to catch her, hooking her arm and slowing her to a halt. She fixed him with a glare that he knew to be one of Elaine’s finest.
“You wanted to be left alone, then let me go.”
“I…I had a vision.”
She frowned. “A bad one? About me?”
He shook his head. “Not as such, but I wasn’t sure I wanted it to come to pass.”
“And now?”
He sighed. “If you come inside, I’ll tell you about it.”
She bit her bottom lip and looked back over her shoulder at the hut. “It would be a shame to waste the food.”
He snorted. She turned around and his arm slid low down to the small of her back, guiding her into the hut. They collected the basket and he invited her inside, knowing that once there, he wasn’t ever going to be separated from her again.
He didn’t give her a quick explanation. He didn’t give her anything at first, just made her wait while he gorged on the food she’d brought. She thought the men in her family had been big eaters, but Hame put them to shame. The amount he stuffed down and the speed with which he shoveled it into his mouth made her wonder how long he’d go
ne without eating. From the first bite of bread and draught of mead, he became absorbed in the feast.
Eventually he slowed, his body changing from the hunched frame of a hound wolfing down its food, to a person remembering that he was in the company of another. His eyes flicked upwards frequently, checking she was still there. She encouraged him with her smiles, lessening the intensity of her gaze, even though she could have stared at him for hours.
His hair held her fascination the most, the colors running from a crimson so deep it was almost black, to streaks of bright orange that set the whole thing aflame. Her fingers longed to stroke it.
“Do you want anything?” he asked.
If she’d been lost any further in her daydreams, she’d have given an answer that would have turned her cheeks as red as his hair.
There wasn’t much left on the table, but she’d eaten not long ago. She told him not to worry, but now he’d spoken she wanted to know about his vision.
As soon as she asked, he rolled his shoulders. He stretched his jaw to dislodge something caught in his teeth, then drained his cup.
“I saw you.”
A bony hand gripped her spine. Had he seen her the way she had seen him? In her heated, secret dreams? Maybe that was why he hadn’t wanted her in the house. He knew how she desired him, and he didn’t reciprocate. All those furtive looks across the table made sense now.
But she wouldn’t cringe from this. She tilted her chin up. “And what was I doing?”
“That scene we just had at the door. I saw that.”
She relaxed a little. “But what was so bad about that?”
He didn’t give her an answer straight away. Instead he stared at her until she grew restless.
“Why are you here, Aurelia?”
“I thought you could use the company.”
He laughed, a sharp bark that chipped something in her. “You’re a terrible liar.”
“I’m not lying!”
“Then you’re not telling the whole truth. Remember, I’m an oracle.” He winked at her.
But from the way he spoke, he didn’t even know half of it. He didn’t know how much she wanted to slide her hand down his cheek and brush his lips, to feel them against her own. He didn’t know how she’d thought of him nuzzling the sensitive skin where her neck met her shoulder. All that and more, she’d lock inside herself until she could make it a reality. She rubbed the back of her neck, and her hand came away damp.
Burning Blood: Bonds of Blood: Book 2 Page 6
