Uniting the Heavens

by Emily English

Tanda forced a small, tight-lipped smile. “He’s not well, he’s caught a virus or something. Perhaps it’s the same one you have. In any case, you should try to enjoy yourself. You don’t really want the Apprentice to have her attention; he’s just a boy.”

  “Boy or not, he’s better company than I am. I belong in my study, where I’ve been holed up since that damned message arrived. People are gathering outside the gates, demanding to know what I’m doing about the menace in Tiede. What news on the interrogations? Did the traitor finally break?”

  Tanda declined the drink Vir offered. “It didn’t take long to break him,” he said, recalling the clinical, detached report from the Hunter. “The Guard is in a particularly patriotic mood. They’ve beaten the prisoner far more than was necessary.”

  Vir took a swallow of his drink. “Let them. They’ve every right to be angry about the House being infiltrated on their watch. They’re lucky I don’t have them beaten instead.”

  “We have the names of others associated with Horin whom we can question. The Guard is rounding them up now.”

  “Good. I want answers.”

  “Yes, my Lord.” Tanda shifted in his chair. “Horin’s motives, however…” Vir waited, and the music quieted to the point that it seemed it had stopped altogether.

  “What is it?” Vir urged.

  Tanda looked into the dark-blue of Vir’s deep-set eyes. “You weren’t Horin’s target. He was trying to kill Aren.”

  FOURTEEN

  Aalae sat at the wrought-iron table on the roof of her castle, sipping on tea and nibbling on lemon cakes. Angels stood nearby, diamond white against the purple ivy overgrowth that clung to the stone walls and latched onto every crook and crevice. The angels waited like porcelain statues, with only their feathers and garments moving in the caressing breeze.

  Aalae frowned. A week ago, this would have made her happy. Instead, she felt infuriated by the peacefulness of it. She had to contend with the mages and one of her Houses being destroyed. If she and her brother did manage to quell the uprising this time, how would she resurrect the House and restore balance, never mind dominance?

  She made a dismissive motion with her hand. Two angels cleared the tea and cakes, and another placed a small glass of rosewater before her. They rushed away and two more replaced them, standing by to fulfill her every desire. What she desired was a way to kill the mages with her own two hands. She needed a way out of this mess and off this planet. She needed…

  “Geir.” She said his name as if it were a curse, and willed him to her side.

  The breeze stirred and strengthened, and the angels moved to maintain their balance. Aalae leaned back in her chair, folded her arms across her chest, and waited for the Wind spirit to materialize. When he did, he was covered in black magic and blood. He dropped to one knee before her.

  “Speak,” she said.

  Without standing or lifting his head, he said in his low, soft voice, “The House Lord has threatened to kill the Priestesses if they try to escape without him. The mages have a real army this time around, and when you kill one, there are a dozen more to take its place. Without the use of our powers…”

  Aalae growled. “Will nothing go my way? Tell me you’ve found some kind of weakness in their ranks.”

  “They’re fighting two battles,” he said. “They fight the House’s army and they fight their own power source. Small istoqs open when they use too much magic, and they’re forced to divide their power between fighting Trum’s army and closing the istoq. They learned to close the istoq with their magic, but it does take its toll.”

  Aalae thought about those dark gateways they had encountered over the centuries. The working theory Taia had come up with was that the istoq, or gateway, belonged to the planetary god whom Mahl had defeated and imprisoned within the planet’s core. The excessive use of magic opened an istoq, which allowed the planetary god to send frightening creatures through. The istoq had to be closed; otherwise the beasts would run rampant and devour the mortal souls, weakening both Aalae and Alaric.

  “I don’t know how the istoq can be used to our advantage,” she said.

  Geir offered no opinion or insight; didn’t speak unless she ordered him to. Part of her was pleased that he was under her control, but something else told her that he was only playing her game, biding his time. That unknown element unsettled her.

  Rafi’s presence broke through her thoughts. She turned to watch him come up the last two steps and walk past the angels towards her. He gave Geir a cursory glance, then returned his attention to Aalae, leaning over to place a kiss on her mouth. “I can return later if you’re busy,” he whispered.

  She motioned to the chair beside her. There was a brief look of scorn on his face as he glanced at Geir again. “Will you at least look at your goddess?” she said, kicking Geir’s knee. He lifted his face towards her, and she noticed the shards of magic embedded on one side of his neck, and the blood and grime that streaked his blindfold. His jaw was tense, and she wasn’t sure if he was in pain or trying to keep from lashing out.

  She reached down to wipe the dirt from his lips with her thumb. A softness there conflicted with the harsh angles of his face, and she found it alluring. She half expected him to bite her finger off, but he remained as still as the angels. “My beautiful Geir,” she said as if talking to a child, “what am I to do with you?” She used her thumb to part his lips and felt the warmth of his breath against her skin. He didn’t speak and she was tempted to strike him. He must have known it, because a tic worked in his jaw. She pulled away, cleaning her fingers in the rosewater. “Wait in the infirmary,” she ordered. “If we don’t remove the magic, you’ll be useless.”

  Geir bowed his head, then stood up, summoning the winds. In an instant, he was gone.

  “Taia just sent word that Alaric will send Tanghi to Trum,” Rafi said as soon as they were alone.

  “And what of Geir?” she asked.

  He laughed. “Well, he didn’t bite you. I treat the magic-inflicted wounds whenever he returns. The salve is working, it’s in his bloodstream. Just give it time. If I try to make it any more powerful, he’ll notice. I’ll apply more as soon as I return to the infirmary.”

  “My patience wears thin, love,” she said, gripping his hand. “We are losing this war and I need him broken.”

  Rumors

  ONE

  Aren’s memories assaulted him in bits and pieces as he sat in the hot salt baths. His fever had broken overnight, but he felt weak and pains went from skin down to bone. It reminded him of when he and Dane were sent to the Fighters Guild to earn their blade mark—something Gerrit Derin required of all of his children, regardless of what they went on to study later. The marks signified knowledge of the basic combat arts and gave you the right to wield varying degrees of weapons. As far as the Gerrits were concerned, if it had an edge, they were more than qualified to wield it.

  At the time, Aren and Dane hadn’t even gone through the rites of manhood, and they joked about how getting their mark was going to make them very popular with the girls. Their sister Lana had warned them not to get cocky. She told them about the time she earned her mark and how ruthless the Guild Masters were. She also reminded them that Kel Bret had failed to earn his mark on his first try. The boys only laughed at her, and she left them to their foolishness. “At least,” she had said before leaving them, “I had the luck of not having to fight Gryf.”

  That had silenced them.

  Lana hadn’t exaggerated in the least. The Guild Masters pitted the boys against their most prized Fighters, the toughest among them being Gryf. They were beaten down then forced to get up and fight again. At the end of eight days, Dane was able to earn his mark, while Aren had to return a month later to try again. In that month, Gryf trained Aren around the clock to make sure he didn’t fail. Until then, Aren had no idea that pain could reside so deep in his bones and in the air he breathed—no idea that pain could linger in his bloodstream.

  He touched the s
mall, black, eight-pointed star with the single blade piercing it that had been inked onto his upper left arm, reliving the honor that had been bestowed upon him after passing the Guild trials. Then, he submerged himself in the bath, allowing the heat to permeate every fiber of his being. When he resurfaced, he imagined the illness leaving his body, the water cleansing and healing him. He leaned his head against the pool’s edge, letting the morning light spill onto his face, the chill of the sea winds balancing out the heat.

  “You look much better than you did last night.”

  Aren almost fell into the water in surprise and barely caught himself. He turned his head to look at the woman who had spoken, lowering himself so that the water came up to his chin. “Lake! Not that I’m not happy to see you, but what are you doing here?”

  “A very groggy, grouchy Dane answered the door to your room. He didn’t give me anything to go on except ‘blargh,’ so I went to the Library, where Elder told me you were probably having your first beauty bath of the day.”

  “This is embarrassing.”

  “Nothing I haven’t seen before.” She laughed, gathering the skirt of her dark-blue dress and lowering herself so that she sat at the pool’s edge, her bare feet splashing in the water.

  He smoothed his hair back. “But you haven’t seen me before.”

  “Are you blushing or is the water too hot? If it makes you feel better, I can’t see a thing for the churning. Besides, I don’t know why you’re being so shy, considering the offers you were making last night.”

  “Stars,” he said, uttering the rest of a curse under his breath. “Please tell me I didn’t say something that would’ve caused you to slap me.”

  She gave a little kick, splashing him. “I think I’ll just keep that to myself.” He shook off the water and grabbed her ankle, causing her to squeal. “Don’t you dare, Aren!”

  He pretended as if he would pull her in, but squeezed her calf and let her go instead. “You’re lucky I’m naked or you’d be wet,” he said. She gave him a look. “That didn’t sound the same out loud as it did in my head.” Lake’s laughter was infectious and Aren found himself laughing as well. He reached to grab one of the towels he had laid out and handed it to her. “Put it over your head.” She rolled her eyes at him but did as he asked. Pulling himself out of the pool, he used one of the other towels to dry off then wrapped it around his hips.

  When he pulled the towel off her head, she let out a fake cry of terror. “Oh, the horrors! It’s a naked man!” He dumped the towel back on her head before sitting down next to her. She laughed, removing the towel. “You’re more modest than I imagined.”

  “Well, now you know something new about me.” He grinned, leaning back on his hands. He was about to ask her to share something he didn’t know about her when he realized she was examining him.

  “What happened?” Her fingers reached out, brushed at the wounds on his chest, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

  He wondered if he would ever not feel like he was falling from the heavens whenever she touched him. “Nothing’s broken.” He poked the long cut on his forearm. “I guess immersing my wounds in a hot salt bath might not be the smartest thing I’ve ever done, but the stinging only killed me for a little while and no one heard me scream.”

  She traced the length of the cut. “Either it wasn’t so bad or you’re a fast healer. Are these from the other night when you got attacked by that monster?”

  He wasn’t quite sure what to say or how to explain his odd behaviors. His head was swimming with broken images and noises. Then, he remembered her stroking his hair, humming a song. He remembered her speaking to him, asking him questions. His brows furrowed and he turned to look at her. “How did you know I was in Tiede Wood?”

  “What are you talking about?” She bit at her bottom lip.

  “You said something about Tiede Wood last night. I think you asked why I went back?”

  “You were very feverish. You must be confused.”

  He closed his eyes for a moment, as if it would bring clarity to his memories. “Are you sure? I felt you, felt your face close to mine. You were looking for something.”

  She placed a hand on his jaw, turning his head to face her. Her thumb grazed the stubble there, and his train of thought vanished. “I was looking at the bruises on your face, and I asked what happened to you. You didn’t respond, but you were talking about things like the Wood and magic. I leaned in so I could hear you.”

  “When I try to remember, I get really bad headaches.” He was proud of himself for being able to put together a sentence. Her touch was such a distraction.

  She changed the topic, letting him go. “I have to do some field research today; I just wanted to check on you.”

  “You can stay in the Library all day and just ask me about Tiede,” he offered. “The way I tell it, you’ll feel like you’re standing on the cliffs, only you’ll have a glass of wine in hand and me at your beck and call. Why bother traveling?”

  She nudged him with her shoulder. “I’ll come by later this evening, though I won’t keep you up all night this time.” She gave him a wink.

  “You can keep me up anytime. And don’t worry, I’ll be clothed next time you see me,” he said. She laughed, kicking at his leg in the water. He turned to look at her, ready to tell her anything just to hear her laugh again, but her eyes were downcast, her fingers fiddling with her dress. He stilled her hands and rubbed the satin fabric between his finger and thumb. “When something’s on my mind, I write it down,” he said. “Then, I cross it out when I’m done thinking about it. What do you do? Other than worry at your clothes like this.”

  She gave him a sad smile. “I usually go for a swim. I’m fine, really. Just worrying about my siblings.”

  “I didn’t know you had siblings. What’re they like?”

  “One brother is fierce, and the other a quiet enigma. My sister is a warrior queen. They’re all older than me and think I’m an annoying, over-emotional troublemaker,” she said with a huff. “Don’t get me wrong, I love them all.”

  “I’m the youngest of five…” His mind was getting cloudy, filling with the blurry images. “I remember being scared of fire…my little sister and I…” He shook his head.

  Lake looked at him, her brows furrowed. “Are you all right?”

  He shook his head again as if the motion would clear it. “Just confused. I grew up around fire, and my sister’s about ten years older than me; this memory isn’t mine.” His head was starting to hurt again, and he blinked as images of a little girl and boy trapped in a room engulfed in flames assaulted his memories. It wasn’t his memory, but the fear and desperation suffocated him and he felt his waking senses begin to extinguish.

  “Aren!” Lake’s voice. The sound of water as her legs moved out of the pool. The strength of her arms cradling his shoulders as darkness began to take him, as his spirit detached from his bones. “Aren…” Her breath on his cheek as she took his weight and laid him down. “I’ve got you.” The hard, cool touch of stone. Her soft hand against his face, brushing over his eyes, his nose, covering his lips.

  Like falling asleep in water.

  TWO

  Aren wandered from his room in a daze. He couldn’t remember what had happened with Lake. He had passed out, which embarrassed him to no end. When he had awoken, he found that he was lying by the pool’s edge. Lake was sitting next to him, her eyes closed as if in meditation. His voice was hoarse as he whispered her name, and she flashed her gorgeous smile for him. She said that he might not have fully recovered from his illness and that he should rest. He didn’t argue or ask questions as she walked him back to his room.

  He pulled out his notebook and thumbed through the pages, hoping to find some thought or note that he had jotted down to set him straight. A slip of paper fell out and he stooped down to pick it up.

  Keep your distance. I only saved your life for her happiness.

  That wasn’t helping anything. He tucked the threat back in
to his notebook and continued wandering through the halls. He recalled something about fire and his sister. No, not his sister. Why was it so hard to remember?

  He was walking past Vir’s study when a voice called out, “Apprentice!” Aren peered into the room, spotted Vir pacing by a bookcase, then paid the proper respects. “Ask my wife to make me another drink.” Vir passed an empty tumbler to him, and Aren bowed before taking his leave. He was thankful for the distraction.

  He found Geyle by herself in the parlor, lounging on a deep blue, velvet chaise, a small leather-bound book open in her hands. He was about to bow when she spotted him and frowned. “I would prefer it if you stopped doing that,” she pouted, closing the book as she placed her bare feet on the floor. “I see you so often that it’s tiring to have to watch the formality every time.”

  He gave her a smirk as he made a show of straightening to his full height and bowing from the waist with a flourish. “The formalities are what keep us civilized. They are an outward reminder that you are the Lady of the House and I am but your servant. Besides, Lord Vir sees me more often than you do, and he doesn’t tire of it.”

  “Do you tease all women or just me?”

  He walked to where she was sitting and presented Vir’s glass. “I’m not teasing. I act as Lord Vir wishes, and he wishes me to ask you to fix him another drink.”

  “You are forever the humble servant.” She patted the spot next to her to indicate he should sit. He remained standing and presented the empty glass again. His brothers would be proud. Geyle sighed as she stood up and took the glass. She reached up to cup his chin with one dainty hand. “What am I to do with you?”

  He gulped, still not accustomed to her informal attitude towards him. He took her hand from his chin, where he felt it had lingered a little too long, touched the back of it to his lips, and released her. “The House shall do with me as it wishes.”

  She paused, her freckled cheeks burning bright and pink, then managed to laugh. She took up her rose-colored satin skirts and made her way to the bar, leaving her book behind. Aren moved closer to the chaise to see what she was reading, but he couldn’t make out the faded title.