by Lisa Cassidy
Dawn nodded and ran off. Ladan fell into step with Cayr, hovering worriedly.
“Tell me what happened,” Cayr demanded. “How did she get like this?”
“As far as I can gather, there was an attack in Sandira and Dashan was killed,” Ladan said. “Alyx was injured in the fight, but I think the real danger is that she’s gone into shock from grief. I think…she must have used her magic to travel all the way from Zandia. It’s too far, too much.”
Something broke inside Alyx at Ladan’s stark words and she sobbed aloud, her body curling in on itself despite the pain. Cayr’s stride faltered, but he recovered, rocking her gently and murmuring in her ear as he walked. “I’ve got you, Alyx. It’s me. I’ve always got you.”
“Go and get your father, Lord Mirren. I saw him earlier—he should still be in his office.” Cayr spoke firmly, grief only barely edging his words. “Alyx is going to need him.”
“I won’t be long,” Ladan promised, striding away.
Cayr continued to murmur soothingly to Alyx as he walked, and she relaxed in his hold. Soon, he was placing her on a soft bed and arranging pillows under her head. Then he sat and took hold of her hand.
“Was Ladan speaking true?”
She nodded, fresh tears welling in her eyes. Matching grief flashed into Cayr’s eyes and for a moment he looked like an old man, deep lines furrowed in his forehead and around his eyes. Their hands clung tightly, sharing their grief. Once again it swamped her, threatening to drown her completely.
“I’m sorry,” she babbled, fever and grief taking over. “I walked away from you after your father died. I’m sorry, Cayr. I’m so sorry.”
“Shush, Alyx.” He leaned down, stroking her hair back from her face. “It’s okay. Don’t think about me right now. Just concentrate on yourself, on getting better. I can’t lose you and Dashan both, please. Just be strong for me.”
She allowed his voice and touch to calm her, subsiding onto the pillows. When the door clicked open, Cayr let go of her hand and stood, clearing his throat and scrubbing at his eyes. Fresh tears spilled down his cheeks anyway. Dawn was first inside, but she stopped dead as the emotions of the room hit her like a wall. A mage Alyx didn’t recognise laid a steadying hand on her shoulder, but she brushed him off. “I’m fine, please see to Alyx.”
“Alyx, this is Leanli. He’s a healer mage who’s been working here for the past few months,” Cayr said, standing back to let him work.
The mage—he looked somewhere in his thirties maybe, with thinning brown hair and kind eyes—gave her a reassuring smile. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
Alyx shook her head. “I’m—”
“Shush, no need to exert yourself,” he murmured. He laid his hands on her forehead, and a soothing warmth swept through her, taking some of the edge off the pain and sickness. After a long time, he removed his hand and sat back, looking grave. “You’ve got three broken ribs, an infected leg wound and a bad fever. I think one of your broken ribs may have punctured a lung. Worse, you’ve overused your magic quite seriously and it almost killed you.”
“Will she be all right?” Dawn asked.
“It’s likely, but she’s still in danger,” Leanli said. “I’ve done what I can for now, magically. I’ll go and prepare some herbal medicines which will bring down the fever and then I’ll clean out her wounds and re-dress them. I’ll be back soon.”
Cayr gave him a hard look. “Not a word to anyone about her being here, do you understand me?”
“I understand the threat she faces from the Hunters as well as any mage, Your Highness,” Leanli said. “You have nothing to fear from me.”
“Very well, then. Hurry back.”
At the king’s gesture of dismissal, the mage gathered his things and left the room. Sleepiness was drifting over Alyx and her eyes were about to slide closed, when Ladan stormed in. “Father wasn’t in the palace so I’ve sent a servant to his home with an urgent message. He’ll be here soon. Is she okay?”
“Leanli’s just been in,” Cayr reassured him. “She’s mostly awake.”
It took everything she had, but she managed to lift a hand in a weak wave. His shoulders relaxed, but he remained standing by the door, every inch of his stance screaming protectiveness. Dawn came to sit gently on the edge of the bed, pale with worry.
“What happened, Alyx?” Dawn asked.
“Dashan died,” Cayr said, voice rough.
Ladan flinched. Grief sagged Dawn’s shoulders, and she lifted a hand to her mouth. “No! But…what about Finn?” Her voice turned frantic. “Are he and Tarrick okay? Why did you come here alone?”
Alyx swallowed, pushed back the encroaching grogginess long enough to find her voice. “They’re fine. I left them in Zandia,” she rasped.
“Then what is it? Why did you near kill yourself flying all the way from Zandia?” Dawn demanded, her worry unassuaged. “Dashan’s death is tragic, but why would you leave Tarrick and Finn behind and almost kill yourself coming here? Rothai too, he would never have let you do this.”
“I can’t…you have to…my thoughts…” Alyx croaked out then subsided, unable to talk further. Dawn hesitated, but at a slight nod from Alyx, her magic reached out and sank gently into her mind. Alyx was too weak to maintain a shield, and everything was there for the telepath to see.
“Oh Alyx, no,” she whispered in horrified realisation. Tears ran down the telepath’s face as she felt Alyx’s utter despair. Then all at once it was too much, the memories too fresh.
“Dawn, enough,” Cayr said firmly, reading the distress on Alyx’s face.
Immediately the touch of Dawn’s magic left her mind. The telepath sat back, a hand over her mouth and cheeks wet with tears. The pull of sleep was becoming too strong, and Alyx’s eyes began sliding closed.
Cayr leaned down to kiss her forehead. “I’ll let you know when your father gets here,” he murmured. “If you need anything, I’ll be right outside with Ladan.”
When she woke again, it was to the click of the door opening. Footsteps crossed the room and the bed dipped as someone sat beside her. A hand reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Aly-girl?”
Her eyes flickered open and took in the familiar face of her father. Worry creased his handsome features.
“Papa.” She sobbed and lunged forward into him, heedless of her sore ribs. His arms came around her with aching gentleness and he rocked her while she cried helplessly into his chest.
“It’s all right, Aly-girl,” he murmured in her ear, one hand rubbing her back. “I’m here now, it’s all going to be okay. I’m here, and I love you.”
“It’s not,” she managed between the sobs. “It’s never going to be okay again.”
Chapter 11
The injuries Alyx had sustained during the attack in Sandira were bad, but the infection that developed in her leg and the crippling weakness brought about by the overuse of magic were even worse. In the rare waking moments when she wasn’t delirious with fever, but too weak to move, she wondered whether she might die.
Leanli’s worried face told her it was a possibility. Dying would at least end the horrible grief that tore at her every moment she was lucid. And each time she glimpsed her father’s face, or Cayr’s, she could tell they feared she wanted to die. And maybe she did.
But then one day she woke, and her first thought wasn’t of Dashan and his loss. It was the memory of what else had happened that night. Rothai and Tarrick dragging her away against her will. Shakar’s Hunters relentlessly coming at them. Galien delighting in telling her he’d killed Dashan. And with those memories came anger, burning bright and hot—a fury that the aching depth of her grief had temporarily drowned.
But that anger hadn’t ever gone away.
She’d been angry for so long. First at her father for sending her away, so unprepared, to DarkSkull Hall, then at what she’d learned about the council. Their corrupt nature and the murder of innocents. Then Casovar and his constant hum
iliation and bullying. And each time she’d handled that anger, bitten her tongue, forced herself to deal with it.
And at the source of everything, of the council’s fear, the Hunters, Dashan’s death? Shakar.
Dashan’s loss was like a raw wound in her soul; she felt it every waking second, couldn’t take a breath without wanting him near and knowing in the next second he never would be again.
But he would want her to live.
And she wanted to live. Not just for Dashan. She wanted to destroy Shakar and everything he stood for. She didn’t know how. Had no clue how to pick up the pieces of what had been utterly destroyed in Sandira. But that could come later.
First she would grow strong again.
One day she woke—had she been in Alistriem one week, two?— to a familiar figure sitting in a plush chair by the door. The room was otherwise empty.
“Jenna?”
The young woman’s gaze had been focused on the doorway to the adjoining garden, but now it swung sharply to Alyx, calculating and cool. “Are you well?”
Wincing, Alyx pushed herself up a little higher on her pillows. Her ribs felt much better than they had, still sore when she moved, but no longer a sharp, stabbing pain. “Some water would be nice.”
“Then ring for a servant. I’m not your nursemaid.”
The dismissive tone took Alyx aback. It had been a long time since anyone had spoken to her that way. It was almost refreshing. “What are you doing here then?”
Jenna rose to her feet, and in that single graceful movement was a Taliath. A Taliath wearing a beautiful silk dress and matching slippers.
“The king asked me to guard you. He’s worried for your safety.” A little shrug. “I do as my king commands.”
Alyx raised an eyebrow, unable to help herself. “You’re going to protect me wearing that? What happened to the delightful breeches I saw in Carhall?”
Amusement flashed across Jenna’s face. “I see you are feeling better.”
She sank back against the pillows. “I left you here to protect Cayr, not me.”
“I got him back safely from Carhall, didn’t I? And last I checked, he’s alive and well.” Jenna’s arched eyebrow put Alyx’s to shame.
Touché. “So everyone knows what you are?”
Another little shrug. “Some do, most are unsure. I don’t make it obvious. Appearances can be deceiving.”
Weariness washed over Alyx, the effort of sparring with Jenna taking what reserves of strength she’d built up. Her eyes slid closed, even though she fought to keep them open, hating the idea of showing weakness in front of Jenna. But the pull of exhaustion was relentless, and the last thing she saw was Jenna gracefully resuming her seat by the door.
“Not up for more visitors yet?” her father asked gently. She’d woken again at his arrival, Jenna nowhere to be seen. “Dawn would really like to see you.”
A little shudder went through her at the idea, and she shifted, trying to hide her reaction from his sharp gaze. She’d missed Dawn and Cario so badly…but now whenever she thought of them, an irrational terror would sweep through her, fear that they might believe Tarrick and Finn had done the right thing that night in Sandira. Even the mere thought of it left her shaking and ill. She shook her head. At least Cario was away from the city helping in the north.
“Not yet, Papa.”
He was silent for a moment, but there was nothing but concern and understanding on his face. “Talking isn’t easy, I know that better than anyone. After your mother died I…” He took a breath. “Have you at least talked with Cayr?”
“I can’t,” she said simply. Like her father, Cayr hadn’t pushed, simply focusing on keeping up her spirits and offering quiet, unconditional support. It was exactly what she’d needed.
He squeezed her hand. “It will be easier when you do, I promise you.”
She nodded, changed the subject. “Have you heard from Ladan?”
Alyx’s brother had left Alistriem soon after her arrival, traveling into Shivasa, his goal to contact the rebels Dashan had been working with and inform them of what had happened to him—Garan hoped Ladan could preserve the fragile relationships that Dashan had been building.
“He arrived safely, that’s all we know for now.”
She swallowed, fighting back a wave of weariness. “Do we need to be worried? I’ve been here over a week.”
Relief flashed across her father’s face so quickly she almost wasn’t sure she’d seen it, but the grip he had on her hand tightened suddenly. “What is it, Papa?”
“Nothing.” He smiled a little. “I just wasn’t sure…you were so hurt, so upset, I’m just relieved that you’re coming back to us, starting to think about your own safety.”
Ah. “You thought I wanted to die.”
“I did.” He said simply. “After I heard about Temari. If not for you, Aly-girl, I’m not sure what I would have…”
Tears welled in her eyes as he broke off and it was her turn to clutch at his hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
He cleared his throat, regaining composure. “In answer to your question, Ladan thought quickly when he brought you here. Only a handful of people know—Dawn, myself, Leanli and Cayr. Astor was told, and I’m sure he’s sent a coded message to Cario on the border by now. Ladan trusts his men implicitly, but they’ve all been sent back to Widow Falls after being told you’d left. You’ll notice your food and drink has been left outside the door for Cayr, myself or Leanli to bring to you.”
“Jenna knows too,” Alyx grumbled.
Garan smiled in amusement, astonishing her. “If only you’d seen the look on her face when the king asked her to keep an eye on you.”
“She’s probably already sold me out to the Hunters six times over,” she muttered.
“Jenna is not the most traditional of Taliath, I grant you, but I trained her. I’ve seen what she can do. I feel safer with her keeping an eye on you.”
Alyx straightened, a jolt of fierceness running through her that she never thought she’d feel again. “I can look after myself. I don’t need Jenna Aridlen’s protection.”
Garan chuckled, reaching out to wrap an arm around her and pull her close. “I’m aware of that.”
His embrace relaxed her, and with that came another wave of overwhelming weariness. Her father sat by her, holding her hand, until she was fast asleep.
Wearing a cloak with its hood well down over her face, Alyx followed Cayr’s careful instructions through a number of the less-frequented gardens. While she tried her best not to limp, it was an impossible task—the scar on her newly-healed calf pulled painfully with every step. Eventually she paused outside a rusted gate set deep into an ivy-covered wall. The cracking of wooden practice blades sounded from the other side, reassuring her she was in the right place. Even so, she hesitated before going through.
Could she do this?
It didn’t matter, she had to do it. Resolute, she pushed through the gate—well-oiled despite the rust—then came to a shocked halt two paces beyond. Jenna Aridlen was sparring with two familiar Bluecoats in a dusty yard surrounded by high walls.
In breeches.
Unable to help herself, Alyx let out a laugh. “If only Mira and Lissa could see you now.”
The sparring came to an abrupt halt, but despite her amusement over Jenna, Alyx’s attention went straight to the Bluecoats.
“Lady Egalion!” Casta, the more relaxed of the two, came jogging over. A wide smile spread across his face and he gave her a jaunty salute.
“What a pleasant surprise!” Tijer’s serious face had lightened several shades. “Did you come back from Sandira with Lieutenant Caverlock?”
Her grief was still raw enough that Tijer’s question hit hard. Dashan’s death hadn’t been announced yet—Cayr had wanted to wait until Alyx was stronger and had decided the best way to do it.
“No,” Alyx said quietly, forcing herself to speak past the acute pain sweeping through her. “I’m sorry…D
ash died in Sandira.”
Both young men’s faces dropped, Tijer letting out a breath like he’d been sucker punched, and Casta lifting both hands as if to ward off her news. Part of Alyx was surprised at the strength of their reaction.
“My Lady…” Casta spoke first, hesitating. “It can’t be true.”
She glanced away, unsuccessfully fighting back tears. “It is. I’m sorry.”
“We, I mean–we’re sorry,” Tijer stammered, stricken. “We didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You haven’t.” She cleared her throat. “Seeing you both again, is–it’s good.”
“Lady Egalion.” Tijer paused. “Do you mind if we ask what happened—how Dashan died?”
Alyx took a steadying breath. These two men had been Dashan’s friends, and they deserved to know what had happened. “We were attacked by a large force of Hunters. He died giving me time to escape.” It was close enough to the truth, and she didn’t have the strength to go into the full story. Even this much was tearing her up.
“I’m sorry, Lady Egalion,” Casta said quietly.
She shook off her emotion, voice turning brisk. “I’d like to catch up properly, soon, but if you don’t mind I have to speak to Jenna.”
Casta and Tijer shared a glance. “You know where to find us. Do you mind if we let Nario and Roland know what happened? Josha too? We all loved the Lieutenant.”
“Only them,” Alyx said quietly. “There are reasons it needs to be kept quiet for now—the main one having to do with my safety. Nobody can know I’m here.”
Tijer gave her a sad smile. “We’re well practiced at ensuring your safety, Lady Egalion. You can rely on us.”
“What brings you here?” Jenna asked as the two young men left. She was sweating lightly despite the cold day, but of course still looked gorgeous. “No offence, but you look a little…fragile.”
Alyx scowled. Fragile indeed! “I once threatened to burn that pretty hair of yours to cinders. I can still do that, you know?”
