She did not see the mists as they returned until they had all but covered her. But she stood as they did, so that she might see her mother again.
It was not her mother who stood before her.
It was a young man. And beside him, another. Two. They gazed down upon her, for they were tall, and their eyes were bright, golden. That light seemed to burn the mist away, and she was captive to it, although—had she been vain—she would have known that those eyes were kin to her own.
“Mother’s Daughter,” the man to the left said quietly. He offered her a hand, and she stared at it for a moment. Then she took it.
“I am Cormalyn,” he said quietly. “And this, my half-brother, Reymalyn. We have heard much about you, and we are honored to meet you at last.”
She shook her head, almost in wonder. “You are the son of Cormaris, Lord of Wisdom.”
“I am.”
“And your half-brother, the son of Reymaris, god of Justice.”
“I am,” the second man said, speaking for the first time. “And I am capable of speaking for myself, although my brother is the better with words.” He too, offered her a hand.
She felt her throat constrict.
“We are the sons of Veralaan,” they said in unison, “and as she is, by acclaim, Baron of Breton and therefore the Eastern seas, we are her heirs, and between us, the legitimate claimants to the Baronial lands.”
But she could not speak. Veralaan, she thought, staring at the two.
Cormalyn’s smile was gentle. “It is hard, for my mother,” he told her. “But hard, as well, for you. Or it will be. She is coming, Mother’s Daughter. But she is not what she was, and you must warn the others.”
“I—”
But they stepped to the side, and between them, as the last of the mists left, she saw Veralaan. No: she saw through time, down a stretch of more than a decade and a half, to see the woman that her Veralaan might become: Stronger, wiser, but almost silent in her isolation. Her hair was still blonde, and it was longer, and the features of her face were unmistakably her own; she did not look old, but she was no longer a fifteen-year-old girl.
She was a woman.
She had borne these two, and she had raised them.
“Mother’s Daughter,” she said quietly, as if speech were foreign to her. She held, in her arms, a blanket, but she wore the same dress that she had worn on the day—this day, some half an hour past—she had left.
“Veralaan!” Emily said, pushing past the two men who had at first seemed miracle and were now merely adornment. She held out her arms wide, but Veralaan stepped back. She smiled, to show that it was not an act of rejection.
“My sons,” she whispered.
“You were always an ambitious child,” Emily said with a wry grin. “Two?”
“Wisdom. And Justice. Because we need both.” She added, with a rueful grin, “I was never really good at making choices unless they were obvious.”
“What will you do?”
“I will summon the Baronial Court, Mother’s Daughter. They will come, and they will meet my sons and their fathers.”
“You would—you would summon your fathers? In the court?”
The two men said nothing, but they looked at their mother.
“I speak too freely,” she said with a pained smile. “I am accustomed to the company of those for whom silence is no barrier. I…have to learn again, Emily. Will you…will you let me stay here, when I abdicate my throne in favor of my sons?”
“Veralaan—they are two men.”
“Yes. But they were raised by their fathers, and they know things that not even you, Mother’s Daughter, can know. They will build an Empire. The Witherall Seer foretold it; my father went to the Seer before he brought me to your temple, and I listened to what she said, although I didn’t understand it at the time. But it has to be the right Empire, or else, what’s the point?” She took a step forward, and then stopped. “I almost forgot.” And she held out the blanket to Emily.
“What is this?”
“It is a gift from the Mother, although she wept to part with her.”
And Emily Dontal closed her eyes. “I do not think my arms are strong enough,” she whispered, afraid to open them.
“I do. There is work to do, Emily. I cannot promise that it will be without bloodshed and death. But you’ve always done what needed to be done, and if my sons are driven by Justice and Wisdom, they will always need the mercy of the Mother, the compassion of her Daughters. Take your child. I want—I want to see Iain and Melanna. Because they haven’t changed.”
And Emily’s arms closed round the infant whose eyes, golden, were a reflection of her own. Mother’s Daughter.
THE END
Short Stories by Michelle West and Michelle Sagara
The first six stories released are connected to the Essalieyan Universe of the novels I write for DAW as Michelle West. Since those are my most asked-for short stories, those are the stories I wanted to make available first. The rest of the stories will be released in chronological order from the date of their first appearance, which are listed in brackets beside the titles, along with the anthology in which they first appeared. All of the stories have new introductions (which will probably come through in the samples if you’ve already read the stories but want to read those.)
In the Essalieyan universe:
Echoes (2001, Assassin Fantastic)
Huntbrother (2004, Sirius, the Dog Star)
The Black Ospreys (2005, Women of War)
The Weapon (2005, Shadow of Evil)
Warlord (1998, Battle Magic)
The Memory of Stone (2002, 30th Anniversary DAW Fantasy)
* * *
Birthnight (1992, Christmas Bestiary)
Gifted (1992, Aladdin, Master of the Lamp)
Shadow of a Change (1993, Dinosaur Fantastic)
For Love of God (1993, Alternate Warriors)
Hunger (1993, Christmas Ghosts)
Four Attempts at a Letter (1994, By Any Other Fame)
Winter (1994, Deals with the Devil)
What She Won’t Remember (1994, Alternate Outlaws)
The Hidden Grove (1995, Witch Fantastic)
Ghostwood (1995, Enchanted Forests)
When a Child Cries (1996, Phantoms of the Night)
The Sword in the Stone (1997, Alternate Tyrants)
Choice* (1997, Sword of Ice: Friends of Valdemar)
Turn of the Card (1997, Tarot Fantastic)
The Law of Man (1997, Elf Fantastic)
Flight (1997, Return of the Dinosaurs)
The Vision of Men (1997, The Fortune Teller)
By the Work, One Knows (1997, Zodiac Fantastic)
Under the Skin (1997, Elf Magic)
The Dead that Sow (1997, Wizard Fantastic)
Kin (1998, Olympus)
Step on the Crack (1998, Black Cats and Broken Mirrors)
Diamonds (1998, Alien Pets)
Sunrise (1999, A Dangerous Magic)
Elegy (1999, Moon Shots)
Return of the King (1999, Merlin)
Work in Progress (1999, Alien Abductions)
Water Baby (1999, Earth, Air, Fire and Water)
Faces Made of Clay (2000, Mardi Gras Madness)
Sacrifice (2000, Spell Fantastic)
Shelter (2000, Perchance to Dream)
Pas de Deux (2000, Guardian Angels)
Déjà Vu (2001, Single White Vampire Seeks Same)
To Speak With Angels (2001, Villains Victorious)
Lady of the Lake (2001, Out of Avalon)
Truth (2001, The Mutant Files)
The Last Flight (2001, Creature Fantastic)
The Knight of the Hydan Athe (2002, Knight Fantastic)
Legacy (2002, Familiars)
The Nightingale (2002, Once Upon a Galaxy)
A Quiet Justice (2002, Vengeance Fantastic)
The Augustine Painters (2002, Apprentice Fantastic)
How to Kill an Immortal (2002, The Bakka Anthology)
Winter Death* (2003, The Sun in Glory: Friends of Valdemar)
Diary (2003, The Sorcerer’s Academy)
Dime Store Rings (2004, The Magic Shop)
To The Gods Their Due (2004, Conqueror Fantastic)
The Stolen Child (2004, Faerie Tales)
The Rose Garden (2004, Little Red Riding Hood in the Big Bad City)
The Colors of Augustine (2004, Summoned to Destiny)
Unicorn Hunt (2005, Maiden, Mother Crone)
The Snow Queen* (2005, Magic Tails; with Debbie Ohi)
Shahira (2006, Children of Magic)
*Set in Mercedes Lackey’s Valdemar, as the anthology titles suggest
For more information—or just to say hello!—I can be found online at:
Twitter: @msagara
Facebook: Michelle Sagara
My blog about my written works: Michelle West & Michelle Sagara
Weapon Page 5
