“Ladies, I thought perhaps you’d enjoy some company,” Marissa said with exaggerated politeness.
Taryn gave Sabina a we-won’t-let-her-win look and rolled to a sitting position. “Sure, the more the merrier. Do you guys know how to swim?”
The men dashed off, kicking sand at each other and diving into the waves. Marissa took a seat on the blanket beside Taryn, digging her toes into the sand. She wore a long skirt and loose-fitting chemise, neither of which was appropriate for the water. Celia hung back until Marissa glared at her. She plopped on the sand with an unhappy grunt.
“I guess that answers your question,” Marissa joked, indicating the two figures who were now racing to the rocky island not far from shore.
“What about you?” Taryn asked.
“I’ve never been a fan of water.” Marissa shielded her eyes. “Or the burn that occurs if left too long in the sun.”
Taryn lifted her face to the light. “I love it. The sun, the sand, the salt water. It feels like home.”
“I suppose you missed this place while you were gone,” Marissa said cryptically.
“I didn’t know about Talaith, or you, or any of this while I was gone, so there wasn’t a chance to miss it. But I have to admit, I am glad to be here now. With all of you.” Taryn forced a shy smile for her sister. “I like having a family.”
Marissa leaned back and shook out her long mane of dark curls. They cascaded down, nearly touching the blanket. “It must be strange, though, to find yourself in this awkward position. To realize that you have blood relatives and have to learn about your life in a short time.”
“I love a good challenge. Since you brought it up, what can you tell me about my half-brother?”
Marissa cut her a look from the corner of her eye. “Zakael? I don’t know him that well. Why don’t you speak to him and find out for yourself?”
“I will, but I was hoping you could give me some idea of what kind of man he is. The few times I’ve met him haven’t exactly been positive experiences, and I’d like to change his impression of me.”
“Sabina,” Marissa intoned with an air of authority, “the boys are returning. Why don’t you take them a towel?”
Sabina gave her a worried glance, but Taryn nodded that it would be fine. Sabina grabbed two towels from the basket and sashayed to the shoreline, where she spoke with Eliahnna until the men came splashing out of the water.
“They make a fetching couple, don’t you think?” Marissa studied the way Sabina and Aomori greeted each other with polite cordiality.
“I suppose.” If Marissa were baiting her, Taryn wasn’t going to play into her hand. “What about you? Is there a special someone you’re interested in?”
Lavender ShantiMari made lazy loops around Marissa’s reclining form. “No one has caught my attention yet. But then, it isn’t prudent for the heir of the throne to claim one suitor. It’s tradition that the empress has many lovers to sire her children.”
“Sweet gig.”
“Are you saying you don’t favor your bond with Rhoane? He is a much sought- after bachelor. Any woman would be honored to have his hand.”
Damn. “That’s not what I’m saying at all. Rhoane is perfect. I am honored that Verdaine chose him for me, and I look forward to spending the rest of eternity with him.” The words echoed in her mind, mocking her. “I mean, all you have to do is look at him. He’s totally hot.”
Marissa cast her a scathing glance. “Hot?”
“Trust me, that’s a compliment. It means he’s attractive. Very much so.” Heat burned in her cheeks. The kiss she’d shared with him earlier replayed itself in her memory, igniting a spark of passion that she tamped down.
“Then yes, he is hot. I wish you happiness in your union.” The blessing rang false.
“Thanks. And who knows, maybe you’ll find your true love one day. It might even be Zakael. The two of you, both rulers, maybe you could unite Aelinae the way your mother once sought to do.”
Celia’s eyes bulged with suppressed laughter. Marissa glared at her, and Celia sniffed haughtily. “Truly, Offlanders will believe anything they hear. The empress never sought to co-rule. She mated with Valterys for one purpose and one purpose only.”
“Celia.” An undercurrent of anger vibrated that single word.
Celia looked to Marissa with exaggerated innocence. “You told me yourself the only reason your mother endured Valterys and then Zakael was to create this abomination.”
With a start, Taryn realized Celia meant her.
A guard approached and gave Taryn a quick bow. “Princess, it is nearing sixteenth bell. You have an appointment to keep.”
“Already?” But it couldn’t be soon enough for her. Celia was one insult away from finding herself face first in the sand. Taryn might be new to this royalty thing, but she was fairly certain what Celia said was punishable. And Marissa had allowed it.
Taryn shouted her goodbyes to the others before she raced back to the palace and up the stairs that led to the gardens. To her horror, Celia followed.
“Your Highness, wait.” She panted when they reached the top step. Bent over and wheezing as if that was the most exertion she’d ever experienced, Celia held out a hand to keep Taryn from leaving. “I’m sorry. I know”—huff, puff, wheeze—“you don’t like me very much, and I can’t say that I blame you, but there’s something you should know.”
She straightened, and Taryn was taken aback by the color of her face. Red from lack of oxygen, but also faint blue lines marked her features. As her breathing returned to normal, they faded until Celia’s face was again clear.
“What is it? I’m late for an appointment, and I don’t have time for games.” Taryn started to move away, but Celia grabbed her wrist.
Taryn glanced at her hand. “Let go of me.”
Celia dropped her wrist and took a reflexive step back. “Hear me out, please.” She took a deep breath and began. “Marissa asked me to be cruel to you. I don’t know why. Perhaps she was testing you. Or me. Or both. It doesn’t matter. I can’t do it any longer. I’m sure I’ll be punished, perhaps even sent back to my family, but you’re kind. Truly, I’ve never met anyone like you. Please accept my apology.”
There was a muddiness to Celia’s ShantiMari that intrigued Taryn. She might be playing her, pretending to offer an apology to gain access to Taryn and her friends, or the offer could be genuine. Either way, Taryn had nothing to lose.
“Of course, Celia. It must be difficult to be in your position.”
Celia’s features relaxed, and for the briefest moment, Taryn thought she saw the markings again. They appeared to be runes similar to her bonds. “I hope someday you can forgive me, and perhaps will call me friend.”
Taryn gripped Celia’s hand in her own, sending a thread of her ShantiMari up the woman’s arm. The markings started at Celia’s temples and disappeared beneath her gown. “That would be lovely. But I truly am late.”
She left Celia standing alone at the top of the stairs and hurried to her rooms where Cora and Ellie waited with a bath already drawn.
Despite her rushing, Taryn arrived late to Lady Faelara’s suite. She was ushered into a formal sitting room, which was decorated in various shades of green. The walls were a soft sage and the couches a deep forest that complimented Fae’s pale skin and auburn hair. The open windows allowed in a nice breeze, and the scent of flowers freshened the air. Tiny threads of ShantiMari were woven throughout the rooms.
Rhoane rose to greet her, giving her cheek a simple pass with his lips. Even that brief touch sent a spiral of giddiness through her.
Once seated, Faelara got straight to the point. “Now, Taryn darling, since you’ve been practicing with ShantiMari, I’m going to assume my father’s wards have all dissolved. From what Rhoane shared of the events in the orchard this morning, it is imperative we teach you to control your powers. The sooner the better.”
Taryn glared at Rhoane, hurt evident in her voice. “You told her?”
/> “Not everything.” That damn half-smile tugged at his lips, and her heart. “Just about the surge of your powers.”
“Show me what you can do,” Faelara ordered.
Nerves fluttered in Taryn’s belly. The simple tricks she’d taught herself were probably far below what Fae expected. She never thought she’d have great power, therefore had never challenged herself to great things. “Well, I, um, can light a candle. I can…”
Faelara held up a hand to stop her.
“I said show me.” Faelara flicked her wrist, and a bolt of light flew at Taryn. She swatted it away. “Again, but use the power. If you try to deflect ShantiMari with your bare hands, you’ll get burned.” Another bolt zoomed at Taryn, and she did as instructed.
“Good. Now, what else can you do?”
Rhoane remained quiet while Faelara clucked or nodded as Taryn showed them everything she’d been practicing. She lit a fire on her palm, hid several small cakes, warded her teacup, and so on, until she’d shown them everything. Except the fire and ice she’d created that morning. Until she had a chance to recreate it, she wouldn’t share that power with anyone.
At length, Faelara nodded an end to the demonstration. “It appears you’ve only attempted to use your power for sensible things, like guarding the sword. Rhoane and I are going to show you how to use ShantiMari to defend yourself, among other things. Rhoane will help with your Eleri strain of ShantiMari and I will concentrate on allowing your full powers of Light to come through.”
“What about the Dark? Don’t I need to know that, as well?” Her pulse quickened. “You aren’t going to make me work with Valterys, are you?”
Fae’s lips pursed together. “Of course not. You’ll have need of Dark power—it’s true—and when the time is right, I will have a proper instructor for you. But for now, let’s work with what we have, shall we?”
Taryn sighed with relief. There were two sides to her father and each frightened her more than she was willing to admit. The polite gentleman she saw at Talaith was very different from the angry man she remembered from Ravenwood.
Faelara showed her how to pull ShantiMari from the light around them, making her skin tickle with the amount of power in the room. Taryn lost herself in the silken caress of ShantiMari. She could feel Faelara’s strength in her threads and the subtle touch of caring she wove into her Mari. Rhoane’s Shanti flowed over her, through her even. She sensed others, as if the Eleri shared a collective power as one. When she opened herself to the strength of the two sitting opposite her, the sheer force of their power overwhelmed her. Seductive, it called to her, embracing her. Like the void from the cavern but more intense, more immediate. For one moment of sheer bliss, she let it consume her.
The feeling shifted, and flecks of light popped against her closed lids. Her breath came in rasps as the power tore at her thoughts, ravaging her mind. A rush of ShantiMari flooded into her, thickening the blood in her veins, cutting off air. She choked and fought against it, forcing it out. The room tilted and she opened her eyes.
Faelara grabbed her wrist. “Taryn! Don’t ever do that again.” Amber sparks flew around her. “You could have killed us.”
Confusion addled her thoughts. “It felt so good, intoxicating, but then I couldn’t breathe. What did I do?”
“You drew our ShantiMari to you, Darennsai,” Rhoane said quietly. “It is forbidden to take another’s power without their consent.”
“I didn’t know—I’m so sorry. I have a lot to learn, don’t I?”
“Yes, you do. At least you were able to pull away before any damage was done. Now, let us begin our training.”
Failure clung to Taryn. Try though she might, she couldn’t push it aside, making it difficult to focus on what Faelara and Rhoane were saying. They discussed the need for etiquette when using ShantiMari, the various laws that must be obeyed.
“With so many people gifted with the power, it is imperative everyone follow rules or there would be chaos of epic proportions. ShantiMari exists in everything, from the vast oceans to the smallest insect. The way to use your power most effectively is to pull from what is around you and command it to do your bidding,” Rhoane explained, and Faelara agreed.
“The word you use is as important as the idea you form in your head. If, for example, you say you want a piece of toast, but in your mind you are thinking crumpet, you’ll get a toasted crumpet. There cannot be any wavering in your command. However, you must be able to focus completely on what you are doing while simultaneously understanding what is going on around you.” Faelara paused for Taryn to absorb the concept.
“In a way, it isn’t much different from sword fighting or martial arts,” Taryn said.
Faelara lifted an eyebrow, and Rhoane explained. “Precisely. In both, you must focus all of your attention on your opponent but also keep your peripheral vision attuned to those around you. Excellent, Taryn.”
It took her years to learn everything she knew about martial arts; she couldn’t expect to master ShantiMari in one evening. “What else is there to know?”
“More than I fear we’ll ever have time to teach you. If you’d been raised here, you would’ve learned all the basics by the time you were out of swaddling clothes. I want you to come here every day so we can drill you on not only the basics but the distinctions among the various strains as well. After you’ve mastered that, we’ll move on to more difficult workings.” Faelara looked at Rhoane. “I think it important that you be here each day. Do you have the time in your schedule?”
“I will make the time.”
Taryn was surprised. “You have to make time? What do you do?”
Faelara laughed, but Rhoane just smiled. “He is the unofficial ambassador of the Eleri. Most days he sits in on Lliandra’s Privy Council meeting, but there are other duties he must perform, as well. If anyone wishes to conduct business with the Eleri, they must speak to Rhoane first.”
“While I am sheanna, I am not allowed to speak in the Privy Council, but Lliandra affords me a certain amount of autonomy in my dealings with merchants and other nobles.”
Faelara gave a little snort. “She keeps you on a tight leash, all the same.”
“So, you all have jobs here?” The idea had never occurred to her.
“Of course, and you will, too. Someday, when you are ready, you will sit in on meetings, too. As the head of House Galendrin, it is your right,” Faelara explained.
It could take months, or even a season, before Taryn was ready for court politics. She was too trusting and Aelinaen politics too convoluted for her to attempt before she had acclimated to her new role.
“My darling,” Faelara said, “we don’t mean to upset you. Please know we have only your best interests in mind.”
The truth burned in her belly, and the words that she’d been afraid of saying tumbled out. “Everyone thinks I have this great power, that I’m the most important person on Aelinae. What if I’m not who everyone thinks I am? What if the whole Light and Dark thing is wrong and I’m just an average woman?”
Tears dropped on her hand, illuminating her runes. The designs shifted and moved. A sword. A moon. A sun. The great tree of the Weirren. A bright star. Their meanings were clear now; the others would be in time.
Then her vision shifted beyond the runes to a crypt deep beneath the ground. A man with eyes of fire glared at her. His long, dark hair hung limp around his face. His blunt nose was swollen, as if he’d been in a fight, and a deep scar ran from his right eye to his chin in a crescent shape. A moment later, it was gone.
The man held something, a small circular disk with engravings on it. A Seal of Ardyn. He laughed, a horrible cracking sound that hurt her ears. Her sword cried out in unison with her pendant and crown. Their song called for justice. They wanted the man’s blood. The passionate anger of the song frightened Taryn but not as much as what the man was doing. He held the seal between his fingers, snapping it in two as if it were nothing but unfired clay.
His fiery ey
es gleamed at her while he rasped, “Taryn Rose of House Galendrin, I call you forth. Child of Light and Dark, Destroyer of the Eleri, I call you forth.”
“Rykoto.” She whispered the name. The man let forth a deep laugh that shook her to the marrow in her bones. “I know you.”
Memories flooded her of a time before time itself, when the gods and goddesses lived on Dal Tara. She saw the birth of Aelinae as Nadra and Ohlin nurtured the new planet. She witnessed Rykoto’s love of Daknys, followed by his betrayal with their daughter; she saw Kaldaar’s banishment and the Great War that almost destroyed the lands. Daknys held the Sword of Ohlin—Taryn’s sword—and cast Rykoto into the Temple of Ardyn. The god screamed when all the others sealed him in his prison.
Rykoto’s fury grew as he simmered and plotted, century after century.
He showed her the night of her birth when her brother, her twin brother, was born lifeless and set aside to allow for her entrance into the world. When Taryn’s tiny hand touched the pommel of Ohlin’s sword, Rykoto recoiled from the light, hissing against her brilliance.
The next day, when her father arrived at the palace looking for his son, Rykoto infected Valterys with the madness that drove him still.
Taryn had to stop him from destroying Aelinae. But Valterys was willing to grant Rykoto his freedom in exchange for immortality. To become a god. Somehow, some way, she had to stop them. If she failed, Rykoto won and all of Aelinae—and the people she cared about—would cease to exist.
“Now you understand.” His smile was nothing more than a crimson line across his face. A forked tongue snaked out, smearing blood down his chin. Taryn stared at him, too afraid to look away. “You are mine, daughter. Only mine. I will consume you.”
“No.” Taryn shook her head, denying the visions, denying him. “Never.”
“Your time has come, Eirielle. Awaken.” He threw out his hands, and flames shot toward her. His laughter echoed into the darkness.
She covered her ears to stop the hideous sound. “Get out!”
“Taryn, we are here. You are safe.”
She blinked at Rhoane several times, the slow realization that she wasn’t with the madman anymore dawning on her. “It was so real.”
The Stones of Resurrection Page 26
