Uniting the Heavens

by Emily English

  Nianni frowned at him, but he only stared back at her, waiting. “Selina is acting strange,” she said at last. “Sometimes, it’s as if she’s looking beyond us. She blacks out or falls under some sort of trance. She speaks of things that she has no way of knowing. She claims that she sees the Water goddess.”

  “I don’t know what you’re hoping I can do. She’s no ordinary little girl, but she never told me she was communicating with the gods.” His mind began to process through memories, and he recalled something Selina had said about a lady while they were in the Wood. What had she said? It was the lady with the healing waters, wasn’t it?

  “Helpful as always.” Nianni made no effort to disguise her sarcasm. She cocked her head, as if seeing him for the first time. “What happened to your face?”

  Aren checked the door to his room to make sure it was locked. “While I appreciate your concern, I have a lot of work to do before Illithe arrives,” he said, turning to leave. “Let’s continue this over dinner.” He felt her frustration spilling out of her, but he grinned and continued down the hall. As he walked, he glanced at the courtyard below. He stopped for a moment, placed his hand on the stone railing, and gazed upon the mermaid. Seeing her in the waning sunlight never ceased to amaze him.

  Falling in love with you doesn’t count, he said to her in his head.

  At his desk in the Library, he hung up his tie, jacket, and saber, then looked at the stack of books that had been left for filing. Three books were on the House of Illithe. Elder must have been doing some brushing up to prepare for their visitors. Aren took the first volume and paged to the back of the book to find the artwork depicting the family lineage. He examined lineages out of habit; it fascinated him to see how people were connected and rooted, and he yearned for a place in those interweaving lines.

  The current Lord, Illithe Kente, had been in power for over fifty years. His wife, Lady Eiselyn, had died fifteen years ago. They had two sons, Helton and Iver, and two daughters, Valine and Elleina. Elleina, the youngest of the four, had been married to the House of Tiede and had died two years before her mother.

  His curiosity piqued, Aren flipped back several hundred pages, scanning for the information regarding the daughter of Illithe who had found her end in Tiede. She was blessed by the goddess Aalae. She loved to travel with her father, and during a visit to the House of Lia’aji in the Kailen Islands she met Lord Tiede Ren, her future husband. He had been so taken by her charm and beauty that he spoke to her father that evening, asking for her hand in marriage. Illithe Kente would have been a fool not to accept. Tiede was a powerful House and an alliance would guarantee peace. A wedding was scheduled, preparations made, and in a season’s passing Illithe Elleina became the Lady of Tiede. She bore only one child, a son they named Vir, and when the boy was ten years old, she lost her life.

  Aren skimmed a few more pages. There was nothing more on Elleina, nothing about her death or any investigation into what might have happened. He slammed the book closed—a little harder than he intended. All history had gaps and some history was loosely based in truth; it all depended on who was telling the story. So either Tiede and Illithe did not find the Lady’s death of any significance or they were both trying to hide something.

  “Is there any book in here that contains the black-and-white truth?” he asked out loud, his voice resonating through the large space.

  “I’m happy to see that you’re working hard,” Elder said, hobbling down the stairs, dressed in his formal evening attire.

  Aren straightened up, brushing his hair away from his face and dusting off his shirt as if he had been covered in crumbs or lint or gree fur. He stopped fidgeting and watched Elder descend the remaining steps with a breathtaking young woman at his arm. She was petite with tawny skin and black, silky hair that she wore partially up, pulled back from her face. Her smile was generous, her eyes the bluest he had ever seen, emphasized by the loose-flowing, satin sapphire gown that hugged her torso. The style was more Tennari than Tiedan. When her eyes met his, his throat dried up and he feared that he would be unable to utter a single intelligible word. He cleared his throat, deciding that he should say something to test out his vocal chords. “Good evening, Elder. I was just getting through some research before you arrived”—with this gorgeous woman, he wanted to add.

  Elder had a sly look on his old face, a grin attempting to surface through the whiskers and wrinkles. “Your curiosity is as obvious as a purple-horned gree in a coop of chickens,” Elder said. “This is Lady Vesila Lake from Tennar. Lady Lake, this is my Apprentice, Gerrit Aren.”

  She held out her hand, palm down, and Aren bowed as he took it and brought it to his lips in the manner of the Old World without thinking, but she was Tennari, and their way of greeting involved moving one’s hand from the heart, palm down, and extending it towards the other person as the hand was turned palm up. It was a sign of giving of oneself in that moment, a sign of trust and good faith.

  Once he realized his mistake, Aren cursed himself and looked at her through the hair that fell over his eyes, expecting to see shock and outrage on her face. Instead, her smile brightened and her brows rose as she slid her hand out of his. “My Lady, I’m sorry—”

  “You are so charming!” Lake said with a small laugh. “Elder, I can’t think of a single man who has ever greeted me in this fashion. Even you didn’t greet me as such! I know, however, that you are to be credited with teaching him the social graces of the Old World.”

  Elder laughed and Aren stared at him, bewildered. Elder reached up to put a hand on his shoulder. “I try, but truly it is your presence that simply begs the finest of graces. Honestly, I thought you much too young to know of the old etiquette and didn’t want to offend. My Apprentice is fond of offending.”

  Aren furrowed his brows as he watched Elder carry on like a smitten schoolboy. He had never imagined—let alone seen—Elder beam and giggle and fawn so much. He puzzled over whom this woman was and why she was here. “Tennar is a world away,” Aren said. “Do you travel often?”

  “I do, and I was fortunate to arrive before the Harbor was closed off several days ago. I’m a Master of Celestial Phenomena. I know you don’t have that line of study here, but it’s very esteemed in Tennar.”

  “Again, please pardon my rudeness.” Aren bowed his head. “I didn’t properly address you, Master.”

  She touched his arm, and a shiver like lightning passed through him. “Please, just call me Lake. The titles and propriety are more formal in Tennar than they are here, so when I’m away I prefer to be casual. In any case, I do apologize for the last-minute visit. Elder mentioned that Illithe is visiting, and I don’t want to intrude, but I was hoping to explore Tiede’s grand Library.”

  “If Elder hasn’t already, I would be more than happy to give you a tour,” Aren said. “How long will you be in Tiede?”

  “I’m leaving tomorrow morning.”

  “If it were up to me, I would let you stay while we welcomed our guests and attended dinner, but Lord Vir is very strict about how the Library is handled, and we will have to lock it up while we’re away,” Elder said. “Must you leave in the morning?”

  “I must. Will the Library reopen after your dinner? Would it be possible to return then?”

  “Of course!” Elder said, squeezing Aren’s shoulder. “I have to attend Council, but my Apprentice will be here, and he can assist you with anything you desire.”

  “Anything,” Aren breathed, and Elder pinched a nerve in his neck, causing him to gasp in pain.

  Lake laughed. “After dinner, then.”

  “Hopefully, my Apprentice will have this place cleaned up a little by then.” Elder pointed at the gnarled staff leaning up against the wall. “Please hide that piece of junk.” Aren winced, embarrassed that he had left out the old stick that he had acquired from the dead mage.

  “Apprentice, I’ll see you later this evening.” She smiled.

  “Absolutely.”

  “I’ll show y
ou out, and if my Apprentice gives you any trouble, let me know at once.”

  “It was a pleasure meeting you,” Lake said over her shoulder as Elder led her out.

  Aren smiled and waved. His words stumbled over each other to express something memorable and clever, but in the end, his lips remained sealed. Only when the door closed behind them was he able to utter, “The pleasure was all mine.” He sat against his desk and squeezed his eyes shut. Stars, he hoped this woman wasn’t going to be trouble for him.

  TEN

  Aren stood in the courtyard next to Elder, who looked just a little younger in his formal wear. In the House Master’s robes, he looked as if some floating ghoul, probably similar to the one waiting for the old man to die, was constantly swallowing him up.

  Half the Council was in attendance, and they were gathered behind Vir, who stood several feet in front of the mermaid fountain with Geyle at his side. Geyle was fidgeting in a slim-fitting lavender gown that trailed over the floor. The gown was embellished with cream lace and pearls, and her curls were done up and woven through with red baby roses. She looked so small and vulnerable next to Vir, and her two servants standing off to the side looked ready to catch her should she faint. Also in attendance were Tiede’s Priestesses and the Priestesses of Syrn, breathtaking to behold in their fine silver, layered white chiffon gowns and sashes in their respective House colors. Nianni and Selina were not present, and Aren thought they might show up in the dining room after the formalities.

  “Elder,” Aren whispered as they waited. When Elder’s eyes shifted towards him, Aren said, “Where did you find the beautiful Master Vesila Lake?”

  Elder’s frown was deep and pulled at the lines on his forehead. He hissed back, “Are you really asking this right now?”

  “Come on, Elder,” Aren said, keeping the movement of his lips to a minimum. “I saw the way you were giggling over her.”

  Elder sighed and the frown lines relaxed a little. “I don’t giggle.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I promised myself that I’d put my love life on hold until Dane got married.”

  “I don’t believe that’s possible, but she’s above your class anyway.”

  “No doubt.” Aren smiled, watching the doors open. “I’m the speck of dirt on her stargazing telescopic lens.”

  “Less than that.” The corner of Elder’s mouth lifted a fraction. “Now shut up.”

  The party from Illithe entered, and leading the procession was a tall nobleman dressed in white and heather gray with a yellow sash across his chest. Behind him was a handsome woman wearing a canary-yellow gown. Her chestnut hair was braided and wrapped atop her head like a crown. Her fingers were adorned with plain golden rings of varying thickness. She looked stern, almost severe, and her gray eyes, though large and beautiful, showed no weakness and certainly none of Geyle’s softness. Accompanying the woman was a man who looked older than Elder Tanda, if that was possible.

  When the Illitheiens approached Vir, the nobleman bowed then stepped aside. The handsome lady bowed her head a fraction, brought a hand to her heart, then swept her hand from Vir to the old man. “Lord Vir,” she said, her voice smoky. “I present to you the House of Illithe.”

  The elderly gentleman came forward and bowed with his eyes. Vir smiled and returned the gesture with a bow from his waist, shocking Aren. He didn’t think a Tiede Lord could bow to anyone. “It’s good to see you again, Gran Kente,” Vir said, upbeat and proud. “As you see, the Priestesses of Syrn have graced us with their presence as well; a new Initiate has been chosen from Tiede. We have much to discuss.”

  “As you wish,” the tall woman spoke for the elder.

  Vir led them around the mermaid fountain and the Council and Priestesses followed.

  Elder turned to face Aren and looked up to glare into his eyes. “Remember your place,” he said under his breath. “You will act respectfully in the presence of the Priestess Minor.”

  Aren was about to respond when the line of dignitaries came to a stop. The old Illitheien gestured towards Aren and uttered a few words. At that, all heads turned to look at him, and Elder straightened up, ready to chastise his Apprentice at Vir’s command. Vir said something in response to the old man’s inquiry, and the group continued forward into the dining hall. The tall woman’s gaze lingered for longer than the others’.

  Elder whipped his head back to face Aren, his brows rising and falling in fury. “Did you do something to offend our guests?”

  Aren was incredulous. “Why do you always think I’ve done something wrong? I’ve never met the Illitheiens before now, and you were next to me the whole time!”

  “Were you ogling Lady Illithe?”

  “No! Stars, she’s old enough to be my mother and far too severe-looking for my taste.”

  Elder grabbed his forearm to yank him down to eye level. “I don’t care what your taste is, boy. Do not look at our guests!”

  “Elder, I swear I didn’t do anything.”

  Letting him go, Elder straightened his ever-curling back. “If I find out during dinner that you did something to offend, I will have you copy ‘The Seasons Poetic’ from the Ancient language fifty times over, then throw you into Tiede Wood!” He left to join the dignitaries in the formal dining hall.

  Aren sighed, raking a hand through his hair. He made his way to the room off to the right of the dining hall, where Selina and Nianni would meet him. The small dining room was used more often than the formal one and allowed for a more intimate experience. The floor and furniture were of dark wood; the chairs upholstered in rich, chocolate-brown leather. In contrast, the stone and brick walls and arched ceilings were neutral toned. The room glowed from the candlelight emanating from the chandelier centered over the heavy wooden table. As Aren approached, he could smell the chef’s signature, herb-crusted roast beef and the earthy, buttery notes of a creamy morel sauce.

  “Aren!” Selina exclaimed when he passed through the arched doorway. “You really did come! They weren’t lying!”

  He laughed and allowed her to jump into his arms and hug him tight. Then he held her out at arm’s length to get a good look at her, wondering why the Priestesses were so concerned. Her face was paler than he remembered, but that could be because she hadn’t been allowed to run outside and play all day as she usually did. Nianni had somehow been able to get Selina’s usually tangled hair to shine like silk and had tied the top half of it away from her face and adorned it with little white flowers.

  “Is everything okay?” Selina asked. “What happened to your face?”

  “Don’t worry about me. I just had a little accident last night,” Aren said. When everyone was seated and Nianni had said the blessings, the dining staff proceeded to cut and serve the roast. Aren helped himself to a warm dinner roll, breaking it open to release the steam from its soft center. “Now tell me, Selina,” he said after taking a bite of the bread, “how are the Priestesses treating you?”

  Selina glanced at Nianni. “Fine. I don’t get to play, but it’s a little bit nice staying in the House.”

  “And no matter where you go, you’ll always stay at the Lord’s House. That’s a good thing, even though the House always expects you to speak and behave properly,” he said, looking at Nianni. “Isn’t that right, Priestess?”

  “Why are you talking to me?” she said before placing a tender slice of buttered carrot in her mouth.

  He turned to face Selina. “You see? Priestess is still learning her manners.” They ate as Aren shared some interesting facts about the House, Library, and saltwater baths.

  “The House is nice but I miss you.” Selina looked at him with sad, violet eyes. “I thought I would get to see you all the time, but I didn’t see you all day.”

  “I don’t know what you could possibly miss in this toad,” Nianni mumbled under her breath.

  Aren turned to face the Priestess, determined to get a rise out of her. “I love you too.”

  Nianni growled, slamming her fork on the table.
“Really, Selina, I have to know what in the gods’ names you see in him.”

  Selina shrugged. “He’s really funny. One time, I was scared and all alone, and it was raining and thunder, and that’s when Aren found me. Then another day, he tried to find my family.”

  “Anyone could have done that for you,” Nianni pointed out.

  “But nobody did. Only Aren.”

  He gave Nianni a wink. “I’m such a jerk.”

  Nianni indicated that the servant take her plate. “Eating with them is giving me indigestion.”

  “Aren is also really good at telling stories. Can you tell me a story now?” Selina folded her hands in her lap.

  He swirled his glass, watching the wine leave streaks in its wake. “I can tell you the story of Alaric’s Revenge.”

  Nianni pounded a fist on the table. “You will do no such thing in my presence! I’ll not have you spreading blasphemy!”

  “It’s a real legend! I read it not too long ago,” he countered. “You sure do like to hit this table.”

  “Does Alaric kill somebody?” Selina asked, her eyes wide.

  “As a matter of fact, he does.”

  “Apprentice, that is enough!” Nianni was on her feet. “She is going to be a Priestess and will have an obligation to speak the truth. I won’t allow you to cloud and confuse her innocent mind!”

  “It’s just a story, Priestess.” He sighed, taking a drink.

  “Let’s hear it,” the Head Priestess said as she entered the dining room. Aren and Nianni pushed their seats back to pay the proper respects. Selina was a little slower but managed to get to her feet, bring her hands together over her heart, and bow her head. “Please sit,” Crina said. “I only came to check on Selina. I promised she could see you, Apprentice, and I wanted to see if she was happy.”

  “Yes, Priestess,” Selina said, her voice soft.

  A servant rushed to pull a seat out for Crina as she requested ambrosia. “Where did you read this story, Apprentice?” Crina asked him.