Grandme held Emmaleen in her arms and smiled at Maleena. “That dress looks beautiful on you.” She glanced sideways at Belynn and pursed her lips. Though she said nothing, Maleena read the disapproval in the old woman’s mind.
“Thank you, Grandme.” Maleena paused to drop a soft kiss on Emmaleen’s brow. “Do you have everything you need for her?”
“Don’t you worry about a thing. She will be quite all right with me.” Grandme waved her away. “Go enjoy your evening while I snuggle with my granddaughter and enjoy the fact I’m old enough not to be expected to attend formal events anymore.”
Maleena laughed softly and crossed the room to take Mckale’s arm. The seven of them filed outside where Barden’s carriage waited. Barden opened the door and the men stepped back, allowing Sonja, Belynn, and Maleena to enter first.
Barden elected to sit with the man he’d hired to drive the carriage; even so, it was a tight fit with Brock, Mckale, and Sonja’s husband, Yaden. It was a good thing that Kaden was on Watch and unable to join them. They wouldn’t have been able to cram another person inside.
The ride to the keep of the fortress in Taragen didn’t take as long as Maleena remembered, though they had to wait in the carriage line to be let out at the door. Thankfully the cold night didn’t have guests lingering outside, and it went faster than expected.
Inside, they followed the flood of people through the unadorned and functional outer halls and rooms of the fortress. Constructed in layers, the fortress was designed for war and each layer could be closed off from the previous one. Though not experienced with many war tactics, Maleena recognized the benefits. Soldiers could fall back if they needed and a new set of obstacles would be presented to any invaders to break through.
Finally, as they approached the very center of what Maleena had started to think of as a type of onion, the décor began to make an appearance and the fortress softened. Rugs covered the stone floor, tapestries depicting the landscape and people of Calladar hung on the walls. Torches gave way to mirrored sconces that held three or more candles.
A wide set of stairs led to the second level and ended at a massive landing. A hall led away from each end. Large double doors opened off the landing to a cavernous room and captured her attention. Women and men moved leisurely through the doors, their conversations and greetings mixed into an indistinct and constant buzz punctuated by occasional laughter.
Thoughts and emotions bombarded the shield her bond with Mckale created. Now that she was no longer pregnant, it held strong. His hand, linked with hers, kept any emotions from breaking through when people inadvertently brushed against her. For now that was fine. Soon, she would need to break the contact in order to find the traitor.
Lord Arandrall stood at the doors with his wife Raylah at his side. Tall and plump, gray streaked Raylah’s long dark hair. Though the eye colors in Calladar seemed to be dominated with gray and silver with a few dark eyes thrown in, Raylah’s eyes were blue. They greeted each guest as they passed by.
Maleena watched Arandrall’s wife. Raylah’s skin was lighter than normal for Calladar as well. Mckale leaned down and whispered in her ear, “She’s from Boromar.” Maleena turned to him in surprise. He smiled and continued in a whisper, “Arandrall traveled there as a young man after training in Galdrilene. He fell in love and convinced her to come back with him.”
She gazed at the couple as their group approached the doors. The way they stood so close to each other, their hands brushing and the occasional exchange of looks, spoke volumes. Unlike a lot of marriages among nobility, this one hadn’t been arranged. Arandrall and his wife appeared to be as much in love now as they were in youth.
When they drew level with the couple, Maleena inclined her head slightly in response to their greeting. Raylah caught her eye and smiled warmly. “It’s good to finally meet you, Di’shan.”
If Mckale hadn’t told her before, it would be impossible to miss now. Though Raylah must have been in Calladar for many years, her Boromari accent still came through strong. Maleena returned the smile. “Raylah is an unusual name for a Boromari.”
“In Boromar, I was Ralynn. People here kept pronouncing it with an ‘ah’ sound because my name was unusual to them.” She chuckled, her eyes twinkling as if she found the memory amusing. “I quit correcting them and just accepted it. It was easier at the time. I have been Raylah for so long now I don’t think I could go back. I’m born of Boromar but my allegiance is to Calladar.”
Maleena glanced between Raylah and Arandrall before her eyes rested on Mckale who stood in conversation with the Head of the Nine. “I understand completely.” The rest of the group began to move through the doors. She smiled again at Raylah. “I must go. It was a pleasure to meet you.”
Raylah nodded. “Likewise, Di’shan. Please, enjoy your evening. If the Fates desire perhaps we will have more time to speak with one another later.”
Maleena stepped into the cavernous room. Here, no expense had been spared. It was as if after being constrained to nothing more than utilitarian purposes for the rest of the fortress, all lavish efforts were released in this one room.
Rich, pale woodwork covered the walls that rose high overhead to an arched ceiling. Large, arched niches were set every few feet, their gilded-bottom edges about waist-high to Maleena. Every other recess held something. A tapestry, a sculpture, a large vase filled with dried flowers. The niches between were lined with mirrors and staggered candelabras filled the spaces, reflecting the light. Large chandeliers dripping with jewels and filled with candles hung suspended from the ceiling.
Thick, intricate rugs completely covered the stone floor. Plush beneath Maleena’s dress slippers, they swallowed the sound of footsteps. She headed for the small, round tables draped in rich burgundy fabric that lined the walls. Her eyes swept the room. Occasional gaps between the tables allowed for doors carved with the crest of Calladar—three linked rings with two lion tail scimitars through them—one sword made to look like steel while the other carved to look like it was on fire. A group of people playing instruments filled one corner, the soft melody enveloping the room.
It was by far the most people she’d ever been in the same room with, however, something deep inside her had changed. Maybe it was the battle at Trilene where she’d killed almost as many people as now filled the inner fortress. Perhaps it was the knowledge of her own power, the fact that she now held Emallya’s place in Galdrilene, or the birth of her daughter. Either way, it didn’t matter why. Maleena gazed at the dancing couples and the many holding conversations near the tables, and felt none of the anxiety that would have plagued her only a few short months ago.
She glanced down at her hand still linked with Mckale’s then up at his face. “It’s time.” He released her hand without hesitation, his eyes holding the words of confidence he didn’t need to say. Mckale too had changed. There for her as always, he made no objection as he would have in the past. Instead, he nodded and stepped away.
Maleena took a deep breath as she lowered her own mental blocks and moved into the crowd. Without the physical link, snatches of emotion slipped past the shield, and flashes of memories tumbled through her mind as people brushed against her. It was known she was a Silver and shouldn’t be touched but in the milling group of socializing people, it was impossible to avoid. Especially since she was significantly shorter than anyone in the room—it was easy for them to miss even seeing her.
She used this to her advantage. Slipping quietly through the crowd, she intentionally touched most of them. A bump of hands, a brush of her shoulder against their arm. Many of them greeted her, and she paused long enough to speak with them briefly before moving on. A dull ache from the contact began in her head. She pushed the pain aside and focused on her task, sorting through and discarding the many images that flooded her. In a short time, she knew more about the upper class of Calladar than she ever wanted to know. Sometimes much more. There was no filter and whatever memories were strongest in a person’s mi
nd were the ones she saw whether it was the birth of a child, a recent horseback ride or hunt, or the touch of a lover.
Maleena circulated around the room. To the casual observer, she appeared open and social. Only Mckale, Nydara, and Tellnox were aware of the toll this night would take on her. Her eyes met Mckale’s briefly across the room. Frustration showed in them and flowed along the bond. Although he was aware of the building pressure in her head, there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t take any of the pain caused by her own magic.
A shift in the crowd blocked her view of him, and she moved on. Though frustrated, he wouldn’t interfere. She continued her search. A sharp stab at her mind made her pause. Maleena sorted through the thoughts and memories of the woman she just touched, observing her. The woman glared at a couple. Maleena recognized the man. Apparently he had been undecided between the two women at one time. The jealousy that drove like a spike through Maleena’s head told her he had made his choice and it wasn’t in this woman’s favor.
The woman glanced at Maleena, giving her a half-hearted smile before turning and walking away. Maleena moved on. After a while, her frustration began to rise. So far, no one in this room had any part in the disappearances. She paused near one wall, out of the way of everyone, and leaned against it. The search was exhausting. In a moment, she would circle the room again. For now, she raised her blocks. In such a large crowd, the blocks only partially muted the mental noise
Two of the Council members, though here, had managed to avoid her. Lord Sarrandrall and Lord Frenale. Sarrandrall’s wife was deceased, and Frenale’s wasn’t in attendance; she couldn’t use them to get closer to the men. The snatches of thoughts and conversation revealed that Frenale’s wife was distraught over a child and refused to come. There was a great deal of sympathy expressed among everyone, both real and false.
Mckale stepped in front of her, blocking the crowd from her view. He linked his hands with hers and she leaned her forehead against his chest, welcoming the respite from the din in her head. The sudden silence of all thoughts and emotions was bliss.
They stood like that for several long moments, neither saying a word. Finally Maleena took several deep breaths, lifted her head, and nodded. Mckale smiled at her before stepping away again. Maleena lowered her blocks. The noise rushed back into her mind, a jumble of thoughts. Everyone spoke out loud but there was just as much going on in their heads. She frowned at the people moving past her. This would be so much easier if they were all dogs. Humans were annoyingly complicated.
Maleena wove through the room once again. She caught sight of Frenale across the room and made her way toward him. By the time she arrived, he was gone. Was he purposely avoiding her? Or was it chance that kept her from reaching him?
After circulating the room two more times, she again took a moment to rest in a corner. Though the many candles lit the room well, the far corners were still darker and it was there she could rest away from the eyes of everyone. Dancers swirled around, watched by those gathered in large clusters near the tables. The hum of voices mingled with the lively notes from the musicians.
Sarrandrall walked in her direction though his attention wasn’t on her. Most likely, he didn’t notice her. The way his eyes jumped restlessly around the room, it wouldn’t be long before he saw her. Something in his manner made her think he had been eluding her on purpose. He wasn’t searching the room to find someone; he was purposely avoiding someone.
When he paused with his back to her, only a few steps away, Maleena moved forward to intercept him. He truly hadn’t seen her. He wouldn’t get past her this time. If he were avoiding her, she would know why.
“Lord Sarrandrall.” Maleena greeted him with a smile as she stepped next to him and laid a hand on his arm.
Sarrandrall flinched and tried to pull away, but Maleena tightened her grip. Emotions, thoughts, and memories poured into her. Faces of young men and women, etched in pain and terror, flashed through her mind. A dying man with Sarrandrall’s knife plunged into him for his failure to kill Mckale. Sadira, her dark eyes alight with malicious pleasure as Sarrandrall shoved a young woman toward her. Oksana, as she gazed with a bored look at the young man on his knees before her. Azurynn regarding him with a distant expression on her face.
The dark emotions slammed into her mind. Already in overload, her stomach roiled, and she gagged from the impact, their strength overwhelming. The room wavered in a dark haze.
Nydara moved within her mind, and Maleena used the dragon’s mental support to hold the onslaught back long enough to gather her strength. Black spots swam across her vision, and her mind scrambled to understand why. Her back felt the rough wall, and Sarrandrall loomed over her, his hand on her neck crushing the air from her throat.
She sensed Mckale approaching. He wouldn’t get there in time. He didn’t need to. Anger rose up, rushing through her system and though her lungs burned for air, she looked Sarrandrall in the eye and smiled. He was bigger than her, but she was bonded to a dragon.
Maleena grabbed his wrist and squeezed, feeling the strength of the dragon bond swell within. Sarrandrall snarled, glaring eyes feral. She’d never put her new strength to the test before. Now, she did. A loud snap came from his wrist, and he released his hold on her with a surprised cry. Air rushed into her lungs though she paid little attention to the relief it offered.
She pulled on her power, the weave forming the second she thought of it, and slammed it into his mind. Sarrandrall dropped to his knees in front of her, his hands on his head.
Mckale arrived with Arandrall at his side. Arandrall’s brows were drawn down. “What is the meaning of this, Di’shan?”
Maleena barely glanced at him. Instead she turned her attention to Mckale; her eyes letting him know she was fine. He relaxed and crossed his arms, the silver of his eyes dulling to iron gray as they locked on Sarrandrall. “Maleena has found your traitor.”
“What?” Lord Arandrall looked between the three of them. “That’s not possible.”
“You are lying,” Lord Frenale yelled as he pushed his way through the gathering crowd. The music stopped, and a deep hush fell over the room.
Maleena leveled a look at him. “Am I, Frenale? Then let me show you. In fact, perhaps it’s best all of you see since this affects many of you.”
She created a new weave and laid it over Sarrandrall’s mind while keeping the first in place. Gathering more strength, she sent the weave sailing through the air until everyone in the room was covered. She reached out and touched the kneeling man. Everything she’d seen before and more rushed into her, through her, and out to the other weaves. They all saw and felt what she did. Cries and shouts filled the cavernous space, and still she didn’t stop. Not until every crime Sarrandrall had committed was brought to the surface. Only then did she release him.
The emotions in the room swelled as anger and despair rose like a cloud. Maleena reached for Mckale’s hand, the relief of the shield immediate after the bombardment of the evening. Exhausted, she closed her eyes and leaned into him.
A strangled shout drowned out everything. Maleena’s eyes flew open. Frenale, his face twisted in rage, lunged at Sarrandrall. “My daughter?” his voice echoed through the room. Frenale lunged at the kneeling man, his hands clamped around Sarrandrall’s neck as they both tumbled to the floor.
Time froze, then Lord Arandrall and three other men grabbed Frenale and pulled him off. Even as his hands came free, he struck out with his feet, kicking the downed man in the face.
“I’ll kill you!” Spittle flew from Frenale’s lips as he screamed, “You flaming pile of dung, I’ll kill you!”
The four men struggled to restrain Frenale. Maleena stepped away from Mckale though she kept one hand firmly in his. She laid her other hand lightly on Frenale’s shoulder, sending a soothing weave through him. He was so distraught, it was only marginally successful. It was enough; it would have to be for now.
“Frenale, I understand every emotion you are feeling right n
ow. However, the punishment for this crime lies with the dragons. Nydara will handle it.” Maleena glanced down at the man still sprawled on the floor before turning her gaze back on Frenale. “Dragon justice is fierce; you will have the punishment you seek.”
Arandrall’s face filled with a mixture of shame, regret, and anger when he turned to Maleena. “I have no words to convey how deeply sorry I am that one of the Council has turned out to be a traitor. He will be handed over to the dragons at first light along with those that aided him. Until then, they can spend the night in a well-guarded cell. The celebration will continue.”
Maleena shook her head. “It will have to continue without me. This night has exhausted me, and I am leaving.”
She turned and walked away with Mckale. People stepped back as they approached, creating a path while they eyed her warily. She lifted her chin and ignored the looks, not caring that they now regarded her with caution.
When she reached Belynn, Maleena paused. “Will you and Brock please stay with Mckale’s family and monitor the rest of the ball for problems?”
“Of course,” Belynn said.
“Thank you. We will send the carriage back for you.” Maleena gave her friend a tired smile.
She managed to keep her back straight and legs carrying her forward until they left the ballroom. Mckale caught her as exhaustion overtook, and her mind shut down.
Maleena vaguely recalled the carriage ride or the concerned questions of Grandme. Her last memory of the night was a feeling of satisfaction and the realization that the bed she and Mckale shared in his father’s house was quite possibly the most comfortable place in the entire world.
The sun rose into a frozen sky. The air was perfectly still as if it held its breath, awaiting the sentencing of the five men standing with their arms bound in the snow of the open field just outside the city wall. In front of them, Nydara stood with her wings partially spread, her head raised, eyes glaring at the men. Tellnox, Farynn, and Olen flanked her, their scales glittering in the light of the early morning sun.
Ashes And Spirit (Book 3) Page 18
