by K. C. May
She grinned, pleased with the maliciousness of her idea. Of course, she wouldn’t know whether it worked until he returned home and she saw the change reflected on his face, but it would provide amusement during the journey. Actually, she thought, perhaps that wasn’t entirely true.
She looked up as she pondered what to try first. What would disrupt the party going on in that thick head of his? Despair would be nice, but she couldn’t push an emotion she didn’t feel, and despair was as weak as hope was. She thought about the germ growing in her belly. Babies were, by their very definition, weak. She didn’t know how, as its mother, she could be expected to care for it or let it suckle from her. For the being growing in her womb, she felt no affection, no connection, no excitement or joy about its impending arrival. Perhaps she would hand it over to Gavin and let him take care of it. After all, he put it in her.
With a satisfied smirk, she fluffed her cushion once more, settled into the seat, and focused on her feelings for the princeling and the man who put it there. She shifted and then shifted again quickly, pushing her disgust, anger, and loathing into the warrant tag. The more she thought about the soft, squishy blob in her belly, the more repulsed she felt, the more livid she became. Those feelings flowed into the tag. She hated this awful baby with every fiber of her essence.
Chapter 14
“Now comes whack on your head,” Jennalia said, smiling, as she rose from her seat. “I can reach you sitting down.”
Daia chuckled as she pushed her chair back to stand.
Gavin smiled and opened his mouth to make a jest, but then a force of rage and loathing blasted through his mind. Without thinking, he put two hands on Jennalia’s chest and shoved her away. The tiny woman flew limply through the air and struck the opposite wall of the cottage. She fell onto the bed and tumbled off, landing with a sickening thud on the floor and a terrible wail of pain.
“Gavin!” Daia rushed to her aid. “What have you done?”
The anger, disgust, and hatred made him tremble with the urge to stomp the Farthan mage to a pulp with his heel. He bent over, clutched his head and rocked, knowing that what he’d done was wrong but acutely feeling the emotions like they were daggers in his mind. These weren’t his feelings. He knew this, yet he couldn’t help it. “I—I don’t know.”
“I am all right now,” Jennalia said. She took a deep, raspy breath and let it out slowly. “With vusar’s help, healing magic takes only moment to repair broken ribs.”
Gavin looked at his hands as though they were alien things, controlled by someone else. What the hell had he done? The mage had given him so much without asking for anything in return, and she was merely making a jest. Why had he responded so violently and without thinking? “I’m sorry,” he said through gritted teeth, knowing how insincere it sounded. He heard the repulsion in his voice, the threatening growl, but he had no control, no way to temper his tone. “I don’t know what came over me.”
The rage, disgust and loathing left him as quickly as they’d come, leaving him with only shame and remorse for what he’d done. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”
Jennalia shuffled towards him. He cringed, expecting retaliation, if not by magic, then by tongue. “You have a powerful enemy with a fetish of yours.”
“A what?”
“A fetish is a charm, made from one of your belongings. I saw the kho infect your haze like the venom of a viper.”
He felt his leather pouch for the signet ring and the ring of binding that he used to connect with Daia across time and the boundaries of the realms. Both were still there. There was only one person who would’ve wanted to hurt him and only one who could’ve done it with emotion—she’d done it before leaving Ambryce. “Feanna did this,” he said with certainty. She was the only empath he knew with the power to push her own feelings into others.
“She made you attack Jennalia?” Daia asked. “How? She’s got to be almost to Tern by now.”
A clammy chill licked the back of his neck and slithered down his arms, raising his skin to gooseflesh. “She has my warrant tag.”
“She still has it?” Daia asked, alarmed.
Jennalia kept her distance from him. “It is gone now, but your enemy will strike again.”
“Is there a way to protect myself?” he asked.
“You’ve got to send word to Edan,” Daia said, “and have him confiscate it when she reaches Tern.”
“Yes, the vusar is right,” Jennalia said, lapsing back into Farthan. “Only by getting the fetish back. You must destroy it with fire to keep it from being used against you again.”
Gavin nodded. If Feanna knew she’d affected him through the warrant tag, she might not be so willing to part with it.
“Until then,” Jennalia said, “you must be on your guard. This enemy is powerful and fierce.”
“That enemy is my wife.”
“Oh, dear. Why did you marry a woman who means you harm?”
“She wasn’t like that until she drank the water from the wellspring. The Guardians’ essence reversed her khozhi balance.”
Jennalia nodded slowly. “Khozhi. I’ve never heard it called that, but I understand your meaning. And drinking it again does nothing?”
“Right. Have you ever heard of a way to swap the essences o’two people?”
“No, King. Why would you do such a foul thing?”
“Imagine there’s a criminal who’s been sentenced to death for his crimes,” Gavin said. “If he’s already got a kho-bent essence, and if I can swap that essence with my wife’s afore he’s executed, she can drink the water again.”
“His essence, now in her body, would be reversed?”
“Right. She’d go back to the way she was. That would work, wouldn’t it?”
“And the criminal would get executed anyway,” Daia said. “It’s brilliant.”
“In theory,” Jennalia said. “I’ve never heard of anyone exchanging their essence with another person. I’m afraid I cannot counsel you on that matter, King.”
He nodded, knowing it hadn’t been likely she would have such knowledge but needing to ask all the same.
“Meantime,” Jennalia said in the common language, “you are vulnerable to her assails. Vusar, you must help him resist if you can. Attacks will not last long. It takes much effort to push across long distance, but it will get easier as you get near to her. You refuse it the way you do illusions, by pushing.”
Daia nodded. “Tell me if your mood suddenly changes.”
“It happened so fast, I didn’t realize what I was doing until...” He hung his head, ashamed of his reaction. “I’m so sorry. I could’ve killed you.”
She danced a jig. “You see? I am fine.”
He rose to leave. “I’d better get out o’here afore Feanna tries it again. You have my deepest thanks for your help.”
“I still offer to teach you, vusar. You can learn much with your skill.”
“Why don’t you move to Tern?” Gavin asked. “There’s plenty o’room for you in the palace, and you can teach us both.” He put a gentle hand on the mage’s bony shoulder. She flinched and stepped back, renewing his shame.
Her scant, white eyebrows rose. “Tern? Hmm... I will think on it.”
“Are you sure we can’t pay you?” Gavin asked. He restored the disguises he and Daia had worn upon entering.
She opened the door. “You already have. See? I am never hungry anymore.” The crowd outside had grown by a few more people. She bid Gavin and Daia good-bye and welcomed the next person in line into her home.
Gavin and Daia made their way back to where Cirang waited with the horses. He took Golam’s reins from her and mounted.
“That was rude,” Daia said as they rode north. “There. I said it.”
“I’m sorry. Did I do something wrong?” Cirang asked.
“What did I do this time?” Gavin asked.
“Not you. Jennalia. She spoke in Farthan almost the whole time we were there. I don’t understand F
arthan.”
“Oh,” Cirang said. “Well, she was speaking to King Gavin, wasn’t she? Maybe she thought you didn’t need to know—”
“Shut up, Cirang,” Daia snapped. “No one asked your opinion.”
“My apologies. I thought the conversation included me.”
“Well, it didn’t.”
“You two sound like an old married couple,” Gavin said. “Quit your bickering or you’ll give me a headache.”
“Where to?” Daia asked.
“The Guardians told me I need a rune to do the essence-swapping procedure. I need to go to the midrealm to get it.”
She rode up beside him when the road cleared enough to accommodate her. “Can’t you find the vortex here?”
“Yeh, but there’s a partic’lar Elyle I need to talk to. Remember that creek where I went to the midrealm the first time?”
“How could I forget?” she asked with a wan smile. “You frightened me half to death.”
“And you lost my horse.”
“That wasn’t my fault. He wandered off.”
Gavin chuckled. He was used to keeping an eye on Golam whenever he camped in the wilderness because of the gelding’s penchant for getting lost in search of a tasty nibble. To be fair, he hadn’t given her sufficient warning that day. “There was an abandoned village nearby, and Bahn was living in a cave not far away. I’m hoping he’s moved back to the village with the rest o’his people, now that the beyonders are gone.” It was about a four-hour ride from Ambryce, so the sooner they got on the road, the sooner he could get back and try the procedure.
Chapter 15
When Edan received word that the queen’s carriage had arrived in Tern, he knew he had only minutes. The entire palace had sprung into action to prepare for her arrival: the kitchen crew scrambled to put together a welcoming meal in case she was hungry; groundskeepers were sweeping the courtyard and laying a red carpet; the various Supreme Councilors assembled, pulling on their formal jackets; and the head porter, Symond, organized the other porters, ensuring they were ready to unload her belongings.
Liera was running through the palace, gathering the children. Six of them ran with her to the bottom of the twin staircases in the grand hall, like a cloud of dust at her feet.
“Edan, I can’t find GJ.” Her shrill voice filled the hall as she continuously scanned for a glimpse of him. “He must be outside.”
“Take the children upstairs. I’ll find him.”
“How much time do we have?”
“None,” Edan said. “The caravan is likely crossing the bridge at this very moment. Smile, children. Smile and wave.”
They hurried upstairs while Edan contemplated where the boy might be. First, he went to the garden and found it empty. Then, he sprinted towards the stable, but the queen’s carriage pulled into the courtyard in front of him.
He stopped, straightened his jacket, and combed a hand through his hair, hoping GJ was too distracted with the curiosities of childhood to notice the queen’s arrival.
The horses halted, and four battler escorts dismounted, one of whom he didn’t know—a dark-bearded man of about forty years, wearing the mail of a First Royal Guard. The footman jumped down to place the stepping stool before opening the carriage door and helping the queen alight. She stepped onto the red carpet and gazed upon her welcoming entourage.
Edan bowed with a flourish that Feanna had once called charming. He remained that way, eyes lowered, torso bent, leg extended behind him, and waited.
“It’s wonderful to be home,” she said. “Rise, Lord Dawnpiper.” When he did, she approached and greeted him with a lingering kiss on each cheek, something she had never done before.
“We’re overjoyed you’ve arrived home at last, safe and well,” he said gaily. “I hope your journey was pleasant.”
“My arse is sore. I’ll need a strong man to massage it for me.”
His jaw dropped.
“Not you. You’re too scrawny.” She moved on to greet each of the Supreme Councilors in turn, pausing to flirt with Jophet and trail her fingers down his muscular arms.
The bearded battler offered a hand to Edan. “Calinor Sull, epithet Kingsguard, former warrant knight to the Lordover Calsojourn, now First Royal Guard sworn into service by King Gavin.”
Edan shook it firmly. That the battler had taken the epithet of the First Royal Guard and no longer wore his warrant tag demonstrated commitment to his new role. “Edan Naredus, epithet Dawnpiper, King’s Adviser. Welcome to the family.”
Tennara approached and handed Edan a sealed paper. “A copy of the note King Gavin sent a few days ago, in case you didn’t receive the one by bird.”
Edan didn’t open it. “I did, thank you. Everything’s prepared.”
“Perhaps we should get you up to your rooms, my queen.” Tennara tried to take Feanna’s elbow, but the queen jerked her arm away.
“Unhand me,” she said in a voice more like a growl. “Where are my wonderful children?” Her tone was once again pleasant, as if it were on a switch. “I want to see them.”
Edan pointed up to the library window. “They’re watching from above, Your Majesty.” The children, smaller ones in front, crowded together at one window, all wearing broad smiles and waving. Liera and Jaesh stood at another window and smiled, waving more calmly.
Feanna raised one hand and wiggled her fingers at them. “Why aren’t they here to greet me?”
Edan held up the note Tennara had given him. “King Gavin has told us of your, ah, illness. Liera and I thought it best that they greet you from the window.”
She shot him a hard gaze. “You have no say in the matters of my children. Bring them to me at once.”
“I’m sorry, my queen. I cannot disobey King Gavin’s direct order.”
Her countenance softened, and she lowered her gaze. “He was angry because another man had kissed me against my will. You know I would never disrespect my husband, don’t you, Edan?” She put a hand on his chest, a gesture far too intimate for his comfort.
Lilalian, standing behind the queen, shook her head.
“I’m sure the matter will be sorted out when he returns home,” Edan said, removing her hand and cupping it gently in his own. “You must be tired. I believe a hot bath is being drawn for you this very moment.”
“Welcome home, Aunt Feanna,” a small voice said. All eyes turned to Gavin’s youngest nephew, who’d slipped unnoticed into their midst.
Edan’s heart sputtered. “Run inside, GJ. Your mother’s waiting upstairs for you.”
Feanna squatted before the boy, heedless of her wide skirts gathering on the paving stones. “Gavin Junior,” she drawled. “How wonderful of you to come and greet me.” She opened her arms to receive him, and he stepped into her embrace before anyone could stop him.
“My queen,” Edan said, “there’ll be plenty of time to reunite with the children after you’ve freshened.” It was a lie, but he had to distract her before she did any damage. Then he realized she was whispering into GJ’s ear.
“Get him away from her.” He took GJ by the arm and tried to pull him out of her embrace, but she held him tightly. Lilalian hooked Feanna under the arms and tried to pull her back, while Calinor grabbed the boy by the waist. Together, they pried GJ from Feanna’s grasp.
Tears streamed down his cheeks. “It’s not true,” he wailed. “You can’t say that about my papa.”
Feanna cackled. “You might wish it weren’t true, boy, but it is. Ask Edan. See if he’ll look you in the eye and lie to you to ease your mind.”
Edan took GJ from Calinor and held him tightly while the boy sobbed on his shoulder. Though GJ was only eight years old, he was big for his age, like all the boys in Gavin’s family, and heavy, but Edan held him fast.
“Let’s get her to her rooms,” Tennara said with a tone of regretful disgust. She took the queen by one arm and Lilalian took her by the other. Together, they dragged her, spitting and fighting like a cat, into the palace.
&
nbsp; “Get your filthy hands off me,” Feanna screeched. “Traitors! I’ll have your heads for this. Both of you.”
“It’s all right,” Edan whispered into GJ’s ear. “I’ve got you.” He caught a glimpse of Liera’s face in the window above, full of shock and worry. He carried GJ inside, patting his back and whispering words of support. Soon Liera would come and demand to know what had happened. He navigated the corridors quickly, with GJ riding on his right hip. Finally in his office, he shut the door and set the child down in one of the plush chairs near his desk. He used his foot to drag another chair close and sat, all the while rubbing GJ’s back and shoulder. “What did she say to you?”
GJ wiped the tears from his cheeks, gasping in little sobs as he got himself under control. Finally, when he was calm enough to speak, he said, “She told me my papa was a fornicator and I have a bastard sister.” He gasped a couple times, his lip quivering. “Is it true, Lord Edan? Did my papa betray us?”
For perhaps the first time in his life, Edan didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t lie to the boy, for the truth would surely come out sooner or later, a truth that should’ve come from a family member. “It’s partly true,” he said gently. “Your papa would never have betrayed you. The relationship a man has with his wife is private, though, and those details aren’t for me to know—or for you. Your papa loved his family very much. You might never understand the circumstances of that girl’s birth, but I’ll bet she loved him. He was her papa too.”
GJ nodded solemnly and then looked up with an expression of horror. “Does my mama know?”
Edan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Not everything. She thinks your Uncle Gavin’s the girl’s father. Gavin didn’t want to hurt your mama by telling her the truth, since your papa’s not around to explain himself.”
“Then I can’t tell her either, can I?” GJ asked.
“That’s a decision only you can make, GJ,” Edan said. “It’s a big secret, and big secrets are the hardest kind to keep. If you tell anyone, that knowledge can spread like a brush fire in the heat of summer. If she must find out, let her not hear it from a stranger.”
