by Kim Stokely
Tamra hesitates. “But it’s black.”
“It’s from one of the Black Guards.”
Her whole body shivers, but the girl is a trooper. She settles herself then continues with her work. Kennis’ bag arrives. She clears off one of the end tables so she can set out her supplies, muttering to herself as she works.
The flesh on my leg breaks out in goose pimples when I lift it out so Tamra can keep working. I look over my shoulder at Kennis, still talking under her breath. “What are you saying?”
She glances at me. Her shoulders are tense, her eyes hard. “I’m wondering what Kyran’s role in your injuries was.”
“You don’t think he did this, do you?
“No. Maybe.” She growls in frustration. “He said you healed him. Why couldn’t he do something to keep you from─” She gestures wildly with her hand. “This?”
“Because I didn’t have another Elderstone . . . .”
“What?” She steps toward the tub. “What does an Elderstone have to do with anything?”
I’m struck with sudden inspiration. “Everything.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Healing
“Okay, so Kyran’s told you a little of what happened, right?” I’m on my bed with my swollen ankle propped on a pillow. We’ve made a makeshift hospital gown out of one of Kyran’s shirts, putting it on back to front. Leaving it unbuttoned. At the moment I’m hiding the demon’s wounds with a shawl.
My ladies-in-waiting have been sent away. Only my family and Kyran remain, gathered in a circle around me.
“He told us what he could,” my father growls. “What happened to you after he fled with his brother?”
Kyran’s jaw tenses. I know he’s holding back a retort.
“After I ordered Kyran to get Caradoc help,” I pause to glare at Geran, “I took a passage to a haystack outside of town.” I proceed to tell them about how I only had to cast my thoughts toward the Elderstone, and the first Black Guard exploded.
“Without touching it, you were able to command it?” Devnet asks.
I nod. When I get to the part about the demon following me from the passage, all hell breaks loose.
“You were stopped?” Geran’s brows are furrowed.
“I’ve never heard of such a thing.” Quinn’s face mirrors my father’s. “Have you?”
The demon was Devnet’s main concern. “What kind of creature did you see? Was it truly one of the fallen?”
It takes another twenty minutes for me to finish telling them about everything that had happened and all I was able to do with the Elderstone and my ring. I slip the shawl from my shoulders. Another ten minutes is spent examining my wounds.
“There doesn’t appear to be any poison.” Devnet moves his hands over my back. Beads of sweat form along his forehead. “I cannot sense anything.”
“Thanks be to Ruahk,” Geran mutters.
A knock interrupts their study of my injuries. Quinn opens the door and Simon enters carrying the Chrysaline. My secretary holds the orb reverently. Its white light turns purple as he hands it to me.
“The Chrysaline is much more powerful than an Elderstone,” warns my father. “Are you sure you can control it?”
I study the crystal ball, not sure how to proceed. A gentle hum fills my head. I look around at the others. “Does anyone else hear that?”
Blank stares answer me, until I see Devnet’s lips curve in a gentle smile. “It’s like voices, no?” His eyes are wide. “Like singing?”
I nod. Those of us sensitive to the Unseen World must be able to hear it.
The Chrysaline grows warmer in my hands. At first I’m afraid to stare into the light, but it seems to sense my hesitancy. The glow dims. I focus on the orb, letting myself forget everything that happened and everything around me. The humming in my head gets louder. It’s like a chorus singing. And the song makes me . . . happy somehow. Warm. It gives me confidence to continue with what I have planned. Will you help me? Will you heal me? Please?
The singing swells. I have to catch my breath. In an instant, my stomach drops, as if I’m plunging off a cliff. The music is drowned out by the sound of rushing wind. I’m falling and floating at the same time, even though I know I haven’t moved. I can’t take my eyes from the Chrysaline. Someone, probably Kennis, reaches out to touch me, but something makes her jerk her hand away.
A golden light bursts from the orb. I am encased within it. The light burns me from the inside out, like someone lit a fire in my chest. It sears. It scorches.
I scream. At least I think I do. All I hear is the wind screeching. Howling in, around, and through me. I think my blood must be boiling. My body will explode from this heat. It travels from my chest, around to my back, down my leg. I am consumed with agony as unseen fingers pull at the bones in my ankle. I want to writhe, to scream, to do anything but let whatever this is try to heal me. But I’m frozen. Unable to move. Unable to end this ordeal. Stop! Please stop! My head throbs. The golden light turns white. Every nerve shrieks in pain. I know I will die.
And then it’s over.
There’s no light. No wind. No singing. No pain.
Someone is crying. Is it me?
No. I’m panting hard. But not crying.
“Alystrine?”
My muscles don’t seem to be working. As much as I want to, I can’t even lift my eyes to see the people around me.
Kyran kneels in front of me. His brown eyes are filled with concern. “Alystrine?”
“I’m okay.” My breathing slows. I focus on his face, trying to ground myself back into reality after what’s just happened. “I’m okay.”
Kyran reaches toward the Chrysaline. “May I . . . take it from you?”
I manage a nod.
His hands move slowly, waiting for the orb to shock him, but it only shimmers its iridescent white color. He lifts it up to Devnet, then takes hold of my hands. “How do you feel?”
“Like I’ve just jumped from an airplane and my parachute didn’t open.”
“What?”
“I think I’m okay.” I strain to look over my shoulder. “Did it work?”
I realize they all must have stepped back when the Chrysaline was doing its thing, because they cautiously shuffle forward.
“By Ruahk,” my father whispers. “There’s barely a mark left.”
I lift my foot off the pillow. Although the skin around my ankle is still a brilliant purple in color, it’s no longer swollen. I smile at Kyran as I rotate it without pain. “Help me up.”
Once I’m standing, I slowly put weight on my injured ankle. “It’s better, too.” It’s then I realize who’s crying. It’s my mother. She’s sobbing against Quinn’s shoulder. He is trying to pull her off so she can see me.
“Mom, I’m fine.”
She wails as Quinn tries again to turn her toward me. “No. No. No. It’s killed her.”
I walk over, reveling in the fact that I can step without pain now. “Mom, look at me.” She takes a shuddering breath, but still won’t lift her head. I put my hand on her back. “Mom, I’m okay. It healed me.”
She peeks up and her eyes grow wide. “Thank God . . . thank God.” She grabs my face in her hands. “Don’t ever do that again, do you hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She pulls me into a fierce hug. “Thank God, you’re okay.” Her muscles tremble violently. I’m guessing that as awful as the healing had been for me, it had looked as bad, or worse, from the outside.
Geran coughs. It’s the noise someone makes when he wants to get attention. I ignore him and continue to hug Kennis.
He coughs again before he speaks. “There’s still the question of why you left the safety of the palace in the first place.”
I sigh, still holding onto my mother. “I thought Kyran explained that part.”
Kennis lets go of me. Her eyes hold a warning, but I’m not sure about what. I turn to confront the others. Geran’s face is his normal judgmental expression. Kyran appear
s uncomfortable. Maris and Devnet seem somewhere in-between.
My father steps forward. “He says you love the boy. Is that true?”
I take a moment to think. “I . . . care for him. I will always care for him.”
“That is not what I asked you.” Geran’s eyes narrow. “Do you love him?”
They all watch expectantly. I wipe my sweaty palms on my skirt.
“Geran,” Kennis says quietly. “She’s been through enough today. Can’t this wait?”
“No, it cannot. The Council needs to know if he is a threat.”
“Tegan’s not a threat,” I snap.
Kyran shakes his head. “You heard what Caradoc said.”
“Yes, I heard.” I wish I could find one face that didn’t look disappointed in me. “But I can’t believe, even with Braedon holding his family, that Tegan would hurt me.” My stomach churns with nerves. “What do you think Braedon would make him do? Poison me? Stab me? What?”
“There are any number of ways that boy could harm you,” my father growls. “And it does not have to be physically.”
“It doesn’t matter anyway.” I give in to my exhaustion and sit on one of the chairs. “Tegan is somewhere far away. I won’t see him again.” I glance up at Kyran to find him watching me. “I’ve made a commitment to marry you, and I will. And we have time to get to know each other. To adjust to everything that’s happening to us. Around us.”
His visage is sad. “Will time be enough?”
For once, Geran actually gives Kyran a look of sympathy. “She is young yet. With much to learn.”
“And much to forget.” He bows. “If you will excuse me, Your Majesty, I also need to clean up after last night.”
I force myself to stand. “Can you give us a moment? Alone, please?”
Leaving the bedroom door open, my family and Simon gather in the sitting room. I know I’ll have to speak softly to keep them from hearing me. “Please, be patient with me.”
The muscles around Kyran’s jaw tighten.
I think about how he almost died in my arms back in the forest. I think of how my life in Ayden would be different without him. Darker. Sadder.
He relaxes as he watches me. I’m glad you would at least miss me should I die.
Of course I would.
Perhaps that is a start.
This is all new to me. I struggle with what I want to convey to him. I hate feeling like some angsty teenager, pretending to be a queen. But I guess that’s what I am. Except I am queen.
He lifts my chin so I must look at him. This is new to me, as well.
I can’t help the fleeting images of Fenella and Julia invading my thoughts.
His eyes hold mine, not letting me turn away. I did not love them.
You know that because you have something to compare. Don’t you understand? I can’t judge my feelings for you against those I have for Tegan because they’re so different. They’re all I know, and I don’t have the benefit of time to see how they’ll measure against each other.
The corner of his mouth turns up. At least you admit you have feelings for me.
I try to stop the swirl of emotions that rushes inside me at his roguish grin. Security—because I know he is brave and will fight to keep me safe. Contentment—because if nothing else, I know we could be friends. Lust —because he is incredibly handsome and my body can’t help but respond to his presence. Fear—because he is older and more experienced, and I worry that he will grow tired of waiting for me to grow up.
Quiet your thoughts. He places a finger against my lips, even though I don’t speak. Calm your fears.
My cheeks grow hot, I’m pretty sure I’m blushing. It’s embarrassing to know he can read all my thoughts.
“Shhhhhh,” he whispers. “I will always protect you. We will always be friends.” His face softens. “I will never grow weary of you.” His eyes smolder as he stares at me. “And I already love you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
When I Sleep, I Dream
Even though my wounds are healed, I spend the rest of the day, and much of the next, in bed. My dreams are a confusing and unsettling mixture of Tegan, Kyran, and the demon. By the following afternoon, I give up trying to get a peaceful sleep. Tamra seems excited to brush out my hair and dress me again. My ladies-in-waiting gather to hear a recounting of what happened.
Ivah and Lady Moira both squeal when I tell of killing the Black Guards. Lady Bronwyn practically swoons hearing how Kyran stabbed himself rather than let the demon kill me. Hanna is most intrigued by my newfound control over the Elderstones and the Chrysaline. Lady Siobhan isn’t impressed with any part of the story.
Bronwyn, sitting in an armchair, pulls her knees up to her chin. “Maybe Kyran will write a song about that night. Would that not be romantic?”
Siobhan sniffs in disgust and, for once, I’m in agreement with her. “I’m not sure I see the romance. What I remember most was a lot of blood. And pain.” I circle my ankle. Even the bruise from yesterday is gone.
Siobhan stabs a needle through her embroidery. “You will forgive me for saying this, I hope, but this would not have happened if you had been brought up here in Ayden.”
I’ve made myself comfortable on the other armchair. “What do you mean?”
Her eyes shift to Hanna and Lady Moira, sitting on either side of her. “You would have been taught as a child what is expected of you.” Her angular face seems to be chiseled out of marble. “You may not like, or understand it, but women in Ayden have no real authority. Even you, my lady, must conform to our laws.”
“Yes. Conform.” Bronwyn rises from her chair and paces in front of the fireplace. “We must conform. We must marry whomever our parents decide is right for us. Even if he is old and decrepit.”
Siobhan pierces her needle through the linen on her lap. “It matters not. The law says we marry whom our guardians choose. Many of these unions end up in contentment.”
“I want more than contentment.” Bronwyn hugs her arms around her chest. “I want passion. Love. To be treasured.” Tears fill her eyes. “Is that so wrong?”
I shift in my seat, trying to come up with a way to change the subject. Talk of passion reminds me too much of Tegan, and I don’t want to think about him anymore. I can’t.
Hanna comes to sit at my feet. “Tell me how you spoke with the Chrysaline. My grandfather will want to know everything, so he can consult the scrolls to learn if this has ever happened before.”
I describe my healing again, this time giving every detail. The wind, the pain, the light. Devnet and Quinn come in as I finish.
My uncle smiles seeing Hanna and me together. “We wondered if we might intrude on your time today. We thought Hanna might help us hone your Mind Speak.”
She lowers her eyes. “I would be happy to aid my queen.”
Ivah and Moira follow us down to the throne room where we’ll practice. I start off close to Hanna and Quinn. They take turns Mind Speaking, leaving me to guess which one is doing it. It only takes a few minutes before I can pick up the tell-tale vibrations that indicate an unspoken conversation. It’s a strange kind of energy in the air that sends a tingling sensation down my back. I can easily tell which one is sending a message, but not what they’re saying.
I let out a grunt of frustration. “Why can’t I hear the words?”
Quinn lifts his brow, like he’s surprised at my question. “It would be a miracle if you could.”
“But if I focus, I can usually read your mind.”
His hands gesture between himself and Hanna. “When two people communicate through Mind Speak, their thoughts are not within this realm. They are using the spiritual realm.”
I glance at Hanna. “Really?”
She nods.
After practicing for another hour, we leave together but separate at the stairwell to return to our own quarters.
Lady Moira surprises me on the landing of the stairs. “Your Majesty? May I speak with you a moment?”
“
Sure.”
Moira’s plump face turns away from me. “I do not know whether to tell you something. Something I have learned about Siobhan.”
My interest is sparked. I may be a queen, but I can’t help thinking like a high schooler when it comes to my sour-faced lady-in-waiting. Anything that might bring the self-righteous Siobhan down a peg would be fun knowing. “What is it?”
“I think I know why she makes so much of how we must follow Ayden’s laws,” Moira’s voice is low. “She received a letter from home. Her family is negotiating her betrothal.”
My mind quickly runs through a list of some of the single men I’d met at Kennis’ wedding. “Do you know who it is?”
Moira nods.
“Who?”
“She is to wed to the Lord of Wesfall.”
“Wesfall?” My heart races. “But that means she’ll be . . . .” I cut myself off, unable to say it out loud.
“My father had told me how that man had helped you in the past.” Her dark eyes look up at me with concern. “Was I wrong to tell you? I thought you would want to know.”
“I did . . . I do.” I press my hand against the wall. “Thank you.” I make my way slowly up the stairs, trying to absorb this news. Tegan? Married? I push away a picture of him kissing Siobhan. I wonder if there’s any way I can stop it.
“Is anything wrong?” Kennis whispers to me at dinner.
I pull my gaze away from Lady Siobhan and push the carrots on my plate around in a circle. “No.”
“You’re not eating.”
“I’m not hungry. Still recovering I guess.” I keep my thoughts on my plate, hating the fact that at any given moment, Kyran or Quinn could read my mind. See Tegan there. Life would be a lot easier if I knew I could think things through in private. Instead, I’m surrounded by potential Peeping Toms in my brain.
My grandmother sips from her chalice. “I have sent a message out to the Elder Council to convene here at the end of the week.”
This news draws my attention. “Why?”
“We need to discuss the matter of the demon. If someone has already called one through the passages, we must prepare ourselves for more. I only wish we knew who sent it.”
