But how long would it take?
He wondered at this for some time. He had hundreds of years of evil to undo. They were less than half done and already they’d reached some of the more vicious and nasty stains on his soul. Even though he’d been raised by a monster, he’d still had trouble with some of the atrocities he’d been forced to commit. At least he had at first. Then over years of committing worse and worse, he’d become numb to it, even enjoyed it as Shadowfang did. It was then that the worst of the darkness had claimed his soul, not because what he was doing was any worse, but because he’d wanted to do it, even loved doing it.
Unbidden, through the darkness of his thoughts, an image of his mother came to mind. This wasn't the tortured moment he'd seen of her before...no now he had a different image of her to keep. Cass had told him about Thiona, the scion that had possessed Starsong and went to fight the. She’d even brought him an ancient drawing, made by some monk here hundreds of years ago. This image was of a serene and yet strong woman. The artist had captured the beauty and intensity of her soft, smiling face. He’d thanked Cass so much for that. He’d asked if he could keep it, but the archivist wouldn’t allow it. The old man had been perfectly willing to have a replica made for him though. It was in his room now on the small table, one of his few possessions and the only truly treasured one.
Senia dropped to the ground next to him. He’d sensed her up on the walls since he’d come out into the bailey, her spirit was a blazing beacon to his own spirit talent.
“I would rather be alone at the moment if you don’t mind,” he said heavily.
“And I want to run off with Ahrn far away from this wretched war, but we don’t always get what we want.”
He laughed at that, looking over at her. “There is that.” She was an attractive woman if one liked the slender, willowy type. She was nearly as tall as Cass but without the rolling curves. Also, where Cass’ eyes were soft, shimmering gold, Senia’s were a piercing, intense blue. Yeah, he’d take a woman of softness and water any day over such hard passion and fire.
He waited a moment, letting her say what she’d come to say.
“You’ve changed.”
“So some people tell me. Others have yet to believe it.”
“What do you think?”
He stopped. His shoulders fell with a heavy sigh. Despite the black still staining his soul he had to admit, “I’ve changed, if not as much as I’d like.”
“I suppose that’s what I’m curious about. You seem to want to change. I can’t fathom that. What is it that makes you want to turn from the dark when that’s what you’ve always known?” Before he could answer, she went on, explaining herself. “If we’re to be on this quest against your father together I need to trust you and I’ll admit, despite the change I feel in your spirit, I’m still not ready to do that, not yet. I need to know this isn’t some trick. The wolf concealed amongst the sheep.”
This wasn’t completely unexpected. “First, the Blacklord isn’t my father. He may have created me, but I’ve since learned that a father is more than just the man who put some of his seed into a woman’s womb. A father loves you, raises you. He did none of that for me. There were slave women who raised me...and once I was old enough...he made me kill them. He’s the Blacklord. That’s all he is to me. The same evil man he is to everyone else. The difference is I know him. I’ve seen his face. I don’t know if that makes him less scary to me or more.” He sighed. “But that’s getting away from what you asked. How can you trust me? Why do I want to change?” He paused for a moment. “Have you ever met someone who changed your life simply by meeting them?”
She seemed slightly taken aback by the question, but answered anyway. “Yes, Ahrn and Emberthorn changed my life the instant I met them.”
“Cassine changed mine.” He paused and after a moment continued walking. Senia followed. “An interesting side effect of two multi-talents teleporting together is that they temporarily bond with each other, soul, spirit, and mind. I got to see something truly pure in this world. Not just see, but be immersed in, surrounded by. I understood goodness and purity, even if only briefly. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for her filled with my darkness, but for me that shining moment made me see that there was something I was missing. And because I was far enough away from the Blacklord that I could actually fully feel it without having him block it from me; I started to wonder about myself. For the first time in my life, I had own thoughts about something. I started to wonder how in all the blazes of the Void could anyone possibly be so good and pure in a world where everyone I’d ever known was black of heart, devoid of soul. Somewhere along the lines, I’d just assumed the whole world was as befouled and evil as I was and deserved to be conquered and under one rule to tame them. When I saw that wasn’t the case…” He shrugged. “I began to wonder what else I was mistaken about.”
He walked in silence for a moment, Senia easily keeping pace. She said nothing, perhaps pondering his words.
Another thought occurred to him. “Then there was the moment I met my mother for the first time. Has Cass told any of you about that?”
Senia shook her head. “No.”
“She was a scion.”
Senia stopped, startled. “What?”
He halted as well, turning to her. “Apparently her name was Thiona.”
There was a series of emotions that played over the other woman’s face, from surprise to confusion to understanding and something like awe. She spoke, but the words seemed to be some further self-explanation. “Of course. How could I not see that? If you carried her sword, then you would have to be a descendant. Although I guess I thought it had been corrupted beyond the need for such mundane things as blood ties.” She looked up at him. “So you’re really old aren’t you? You don’t look it.”
He grimaced. “Thanks. I believe that’s part of the Blacklord’s magic. I’m guessing he thought he might never get another chance to corrupt another scion, so I had to last him for a while.”
She thought a moment before saying, “that’s why you didn’t kill me, why you wanted me and Wyllea alive, so the Blacklord could…” She shuddered. “Gods!”
He grimaced. “I supposed apologies now aren’t worth much are they.”
She looked at him oddly. “That depends if you mean it.”
He looked away, finding the core of benevolence Cass was helping him instill within himself. He found the guilt he felt at trying to bring this woman back to his father. It was one of those minor blotches on his soul already dealt with. Then he looked her in the eyes saying, “I do mean it. I am truly sorry I tried to take you to such a man. No one deserves that fate.”
She raised a single brow. “I believe you.” She gave a quick "hunh," then an odd smile. “Perhaps I can learn to trust you, Davar...perhaps.” She leapt away back to the walls.
“I only hope when you do I’m worthy of it and don’t let you all down.” That was his deepest fear and his most nagging doubt.
Chapter 13
Cassine collapsed into her bed, exhausted, and almost instantly fell into a deep slumber.
When she awoke, she could feel the tug of nightmares at the fringes of her soul but was glad she could remember nothing of them. She also found the High Sister sitting quietly in her room.
She sat up quickly trying to clear her head. “High Sister, I’m sorry. Have you been waiting long? You should have woken me.”
Olinda chuckled. “Gods, girl, calm yourself. You needed the sleep. I didn’t wish to wake you. You didn’t show up for your evening rounds when the fighting started so I thought I’d come to see how you were.”
“Evening rounds have started? I’m sorry, High Sister, I’ll be up at once.” She threw her legs over the side of the bed. A wave of light-headedness washed over her as she sat up. She put a hand to her head and closed her eyes as the dizziness passed.
“No, I think we can do without you for one night. You need to rest. You’ve been working far too hard. You
’re a great resource to us all Cassine and we’ll need you for what is to come. That’s another reason I’ve come.”
“Oh?” Cassine couldn’t deny the fatigue that plagued her everywhere she went these days. Between healing the wounded at night and working with Davar and Starsong during the day, she was feeling more and more drained even after resting. This was far from the first time she’d been dizzy and disoriented upon waking.
The High Sister moved to sit next to Cassine on the bed. She raised a hand and brushed a few wayward strands of Cassine’s blond hair from her face and back over her ear. Where the High Sister’s fingers touched her brow, warm healing energy flowed into Cassine.
“You need to save your energy for the wounded, High Sister.”
There was an odd concern in Olinda’s eyes. “Child, what makes you think you aren’t wounded?”
The question struck like a great bell within Cassine. “I…” It was true. She’d been feeling all the symptoms of a mind-weary warrior, traumatized by the wars he’d fought.
She sighed. “But there’s still so much to do.”
The High sister smiled. “The war goes better for us every night, child. Fewer and fewer of our men are killed or injured and more and more of the enemy fall. Our scouts report that the Blacklord’s army has lost so many men the size of our forces are roughly equal now, and we still have our great defenses. We’ll need fewer healers on watch each night. You’re to be spared that duty from now on.”
Cassine considered this. She was one of the best healers of all the Daughters of Ehlani. Yet she was exhausted. “Thank you.”
The High Sister wet her lips and drew in a long breath, her air one of apprehension. “There is one other thing I came to tell you.”
“Yes?” Cassine fed off the other woman’s hesitance, her fear growing.
“Ragnalla has had another vision, or perhaps an addition to her vision about the Blacklord.”
“Yes.”
“She has seen that the Blacklord is weakest at the high solstice, the beginning of summer when the sun is strongest and days are longest. That is when you must go.”
Cassine was confused for a moment as to why this might be worthy of apprehension.
The High Sister set her hands calmly in her lap. Despite this Cassine could sense the worry and fear within her superior. “The autumnal equinox is but a couple of weeks away. That means you have nine months until the next summer solstice. Nine months to free Davar and his sword of his father’s taint. Do you think you can do this?”
Now she understood. Lots of work remained to be done with both Davar and Starsong. Davar’s progress had slowed dramatically. They hadn’t even dealt with a single full strand of emotion this morning.
Then there was Starsong. After more than a month of trying to figure out how to heal such a different type of soul, she’d had very little headway with the blade. Not to mention she still didn’t really understand how the Blacklord had corrupted it, which meant she didn’t know how to undo what had been done. In one way a year, even nine months, seemed like a long time, but knowing that there was a hard deadline, that no matter what she had to be done by a certain point, did add urgency to her work. She would definitely need the time away from her other healing duties as her days were about to get much longer.
“It will be done.”
Olinda smiled. “I’m glad my child. Now rest. Recover. There’s time still, but we must all be at our best, yes?”
Cassine nodded again.
The High Sister left, and Cassine laid back down again but found sleep elusive.
After another call of the watch sounded. She rose and left her room. She’d meant simply to walk and get some air, but her steps led her to Davar’s room.
She almost laughed when she realized where she was. She doubted anyone one else in the abbey would ever consider coming to this man for comfort, and yet that’s what she wanted. Despite all the work they had left to do he’d changed so much. There was a tenderness in his touch and voice now. He cared, not only for her but for others. He was finding out what it meant to love and be loved for the first time in his life. With her especially, he was always so compassionate now. She acknowledged the two guards outside Davar’s room. They knew her well and greeted her before she went in.
The room was dark.
She used her fire talent to bring a flame to life in her palm, then she found a candle and lit it.
Davar slept. She sat and watched him as the High Sister had just been watching her sleep.
He shuddered, mumbling. One of his arms struck out smashing the wall next to his bed. It left a small divot, stone chips and dust falling around him. When she peered closer, she could see many such divots in the walls. It was the first time she’d noticed them. His dreams must trouble him greatly. This left her with mixed feelings. It was good that he could recognize the evil in him now and fought against it, but she also knew it wasn’t easy for him to keep up that fight on some days. That concerned her. She didn’t fear he’d succumb to evil again, but that he’d lose the energy to fight it, which wouldn’t help them in their attempts to cleanse his soul.
She pushed some matted hair off of his sweat-soaked brow. For now, at least, he was still fighting, even in his dreams. He gave a clipped cry and sat up suddenly, awake.
He blinked, probably not expecting any light, then looked over at her. “Cass? Is everything well?”
She’d expected him to be upset or confused, but the concern for her in his voice made her heart swell.
She leaned in a kissed him lightly. “Yes, I’m well. I just couldn’t sleep and when I thought to go for a walk...I ended up here.”
His hand gently caressed her cheek, sliding through her hair. With a sudden urgency, he leaned in to embrace her. She had to use her earth magic to strengthen muscle and bone at how tightly he held her.
“Davar!” she said, air restricted. He released her enough for comfort. His head drew back but remained so close his long dark hair brushed her forehead, his lips near, his breath hot.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. It was obvious he needed comfort and she wondered what bothered him so. She touched his soul. Even without having made contact she'd felt a jumble of emotions roiling around within him. When she did seek further, she felt the great swell of passion which rose up amongst his other feelings.
He closed the distance between them, lips seeking hers, intent and needful.
She responded, her own need stoked by being connected to his barely restrained desire. His hands came to her shoulders and pressed her closer. Her hand found his arm, his shoulder. He slept without a shirt and his skin was hot as her fingers traced the heaving mountains of his muscles. A great chasm of passion opened up before her. It would be so easy to fall into its depths and she was dangerously close to doing so. As fatigued as she was, she didn't want to resist. One of her hands moved over the thick muscles of his chest, then down to the sharply cut hills of his abdomen.
His hand slid down her neck then under the loose collar of her sleeping shift. It found a breast and gripped it fiercely. She gasped, a pinch of pain surging with a roar of heat within her, desire mounting to desperate levels. She undid the laces on his breeches and reached within
She was a healer, she knew of the bodies of men and woman with intense detail. She knew of the act of love but had never before committed it. She knew somewhere in the back of her mind that she wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready. But her weary body and soul sought greater comfort and closeness with him.
He groaned and pulled her down next to him. The movement was so forceful his cot shifted and knocked the bedside table. The candle fell and clattered on the stone floor, going out. They were left in the dark with only touch to guide them.
She’d fallen. She knew it.
She was lost over the edge that chasm of passion, flying through a torrent of desire. She knew she should stop, but didn’t want to any more.
His hand on her thigh made her quiver with an ecstasy of anti
cipation. He moved his hand higher, pushing her shift up past her hips. He traced a hot line along where her hip met her thigh, moving inward and finding more sensitive flesh.
She let out a low moan from deep within as his lips pressed against the sheer fabric of her shift over a breast.
The room felt far too warm, or perhaps it was just her body radiating a desperate heat.
She closed her eyes tight, crying out again with a shudder as his fingers did wondrous things much lower down. But then he stopped, withdrawing.
“No,” he said, his voice choked with passion. “I won’t.”
She opened her eyes to the darkness but found the room dimly lit. She realized with a shock that she was glowing, a pure white luminescence radiating from her skin.
Davar had pushed himself back, off of her. His skin glistened with a sheen of sweat. His eyes burned with an inner fire. He drew in several long, slow breaths looking down at her. His breeches had been pushed down to his knees so he was mostly naked and magnificent. He reached out a tentative hand to trace delicate patterns on her lower abdomen.
She was so sensitive she responded with a gasp as her desire spiked with that simple touch. The light from her skin intensified where his finger moved, glowing brighter. He withdrew his hand and turned away.
“You wanted to wait,” he said, it sounded like his teeth were clenched. “I will respect that. You… we aren't ready for this. Not yet.”
She still wanted him. Her body arched up to him as her desire every so slowly cooled. She didn't want to be smart, didn't want to wait. She just wanted him...now. But his words spoke to another part of her and that part fought to reassert control. She dragged in several long breaths and her passion slipped away with a shudder. After several more calming breaths, she covered herself as she came to a sitting position. Her skin slowly dimmed to the faintest of illumination before the room was in darkness once again. She called a fire in her palm, found the candle, and lit it again.
Scion’s Sacrifice (The Guardians of Light Book 3) Page 12
