Return to Shanhasson

by Joely Sue Burkhart

  Anya wrapped her arm around her mother’s neck and pressed her cheek to hers. “I’m sorry, Mama. I want to stay with you a very long time, but I want to see my Papa too. He was teaching us how to use our rahkes.”

  “Papa says Gregar’s the very best,” Rhyra added. “But he says you’re the best now, Mama. Is that true?”

  Shannari laughed and shook her head. “No one will ever best Gregar.”

  Cold danced along her cheek, stroked down her neck, and the Shadowed Blood’s wicked voice echoed in her mind. :I know who killed Varne, na’lanna, and he was arguably as skilled as I when I didn’t use my Shadows. Our daughters will be very lucky to have you as their teacher.:

  Rhyra gasped and pulled out of her arms to splash in the bubbling fountain beneath the tree. “A kae’sangral! It’s so pretty, Mama.”

  “Not as pretty as you two.” Her heart felt swollen and bruised, so full of love that she couldn’t breathe. Gregar’s cold shadow pressed against her back, and Rhaekhar’s firm grip on her chin confirmed her two dead warriors were never parted from her.

  The sight of her two innocent, beautiful daughters dancing beneath the kae’sangral sent a shard of fear slicing down her spine as sharply as her rahke. Which one would become the next High Queen? How many Shadowed plots were already spinning and corrupting their way toward these pure hearts?

  How many loves would they have…and lose?

  Blessed Lady above, spare them any suffering.

  Deep in her heart, though, she knew she would suffer a thousand deaths all over again if it meant she could love her warriors and feel their strength wrapped around her.

  Rhaekhar released her chin but whispered in her mind. :Love, the greatest gift of all.:

  With a final cold stroke of his invisible ivory rahke, Gregar added, :And the greatest sacrifice. We wait for you in the Tenth Camp, na’lanna.:

  She blinked away the tears. :Until we all ride to Vulkar.:

  EPILOGUE

  BLESSED LADY ABOVE, THANK YOU FOR YOUR BOUNTIFUL BLESSINGS OF LOVE.

  Shannari dal’Dainari stared out over Dalden Bay and watched the moon sink into the dark waters. Streamers of moonlight streaked across the sky, and the Great Seal of the Sentinel hummed with power beneath her feet. Silver arced in the air, the sweet melody of love and harmony whispering in the night sky for any who believed in Our Blessed Lady’s gifts.

  How could she not believe when she had ten warriors who’d lay down their lives for hers without hesitation waiting for her?

  She smiled at her High Priest, Father Josef, remembering how hopelessly young he’d been when she first met him after escaping the bowels of Shanhasson’s prison. Oh, but that had been many years ago. His face definitely bore the brunt of passing years, but the crinkles about this eyes and mouth told of his endless joy in serving Her and Her Daughters.

  “Our Blessed Lady sings.”

  Shannari nodded, tilting her head and closing her eyes to absorb the otherworldly music. She’d come to this holy location all her life, but only when she’d learned how to love had she finally heard Leesha’s song. Her barbarian warlord had given her that gift first, but Gregar’s wicked sense of humor had continued it.

  Even when she’d stopped here on her grim return to Shanhasson after both warriors’ death, she’d heard the music, then a mournful, haunting dirge but just as beautiful. Over the many years since, the music had only become sweeter.

  Nearly eighteen years old, her daughters were on the verge of womanhood. Soon, she’d have to choose one of them to inherit the Rose Crown. She’d hoped Our Blessed Lady would make Her choice on this trip, but no vision had come.

  Deep down, Shannari feared it was her own reluctance to burden either of her daughters with such bloody responsibility. I’ve spared them the darkness as much as possible, but soon they’ll be forced to make their own choices.

  “Dawn comes,” she sighed. “I should get some sleep before we ride back to Shanhasson.”

  “There’s no need.”

  She opened her eyes and searched the priest’s gaze. “Have you Seen something?”

  “Indeed. I See that.”

  Turning, she followed his pointing finger. Her heart slammed against her ribcage. In a matter of moments, thick mists had rolled in from the sea to cover the bay. Fog swirled and leaped over the waves.

  Hoofbeats clattered on the marble and her silvered mare leaped off the Sentinel. The fall to the waters below would surely kill her. Terrified, Shannari raced to the railing that protected visitors from the cliffs below. “Wind!”

  The mare galloped through the air and dissolved into the waves. Stunned, Shannari swore a whole herd of horses surged in the mist, whinnying a welcome to one of their own.

  Rolling over the shore, fog blanketed the Sentinel, swallowing everything. She couldn’t see anything but gray, cool and wet against her skin.

  In the distance, she heard Dharman shout, his bond surging with alarm.

  :Peace,: she whispered, touching each bond to reassure them. :Our Blessed Lady speaks.:

  Dharman’s bond only roared hotter, vibrating with fear of all things. She hadn't felt fear from her First Blood in a decade and more. :Don’t leave us, na’lanna. I beg you, please!:

  Bewildered, she turned, searching for him, but her Blood were lost in the fog. Wood creaked, drawing her attention back to the bay.

  A ship hovered in the mist. Long and lean of gilded gold and pearly white, the ship hovered like a giant bird just feet away. According to legend, Our Blessed Lady had first arrived on these shores in such a boat.

  The fog thinned. She could barely make out two shapes on the deck. They waved, beckoning to her. One was tall and broad shouldered, while the other was shorter and slightly thicker, standing side by side.

  “My heart!”

  Her own heart froze in her chest. Rhaekhar. He had Rhaekhar's voice.

  The other shape called out, “Na'lanna.” That wicked voice could only belong to Gregar.

  She burst into tears. It had been so long since she’d heard their beloved voices. Dreams didn’t count, not when her heart ached with loneliness, even surrounded by the warriors who loved her.

  Rhaekhar had always held the First claim on her heart; Gregar, the Second.

  “Our Blessed Lady Calls you home.” Smiling through the tears that wet his cheeks, Father Josef kissed her hand. “She’s well pleased, Your Majesty. She knows how your heart yearns for your warriors. Go, now, and love them in the afterlife She provides.”

  Joy leaped in her heart, but she couldn't leave. Her children needed her. She didn't know which of her daughters would take the High Throne, and Malek, her son of Shadow and Light, had disappeared into Keldar. She hadn't had word from him in months. Who will protect them from the Shadowed plots that followed me my entire life?

  “You’ve done well, Your Majesty. Your children carry your light and love to see them through their lives. There’s nothing else you can teach them.”

  She rubbed her eyes, struggling to make a calm, rational decision despite the urge to throw herself off the cliff and let her mates catch her. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure.” Father Josef bowed low and pressed his forehead to her knuckles. “You’ve more than earned your rest and reward in Vulkar’s Clouds. If the need arises, your children may always Call you to the Tenth Camp. Go, Shannari dal’Dainari, and ride with the warriors who love you.”

  Smiling so widely her face hurt, she turned back to the boat. She waved, crying and laughing. She could see Rhaekhar clearly, his long golden-brown hair hanging about his shoulders, wild and free like a herd stallion, his golden eyes shining in the murk. Gregar’s sable hair hung like a mantle about his shoulders, longer than ever, as though he sought to challenge both Mykal and Sal for the longest—and most tempting—hair.

  Her mates were so close she could almost smell them, sweet Plains hay, baking bread, and rich, smoldering caffe.

  Not honeycakes and gingerbread and sandalwood.

>   My Blood.

  Her heart thudded in her chest and pain banded her lungs. “I can’t leave my Blood. They love me, Father. I won’t leave them to suffer my death.”

  Blinded by fog, crippled, dying, nothing would ever keep them from reaching her. Unerringly, they raced toward her. Dharman fell to his knees, buried his face against her stomach, and clutched her tightly against him. “Na'lanna, please, don’t leave us.”

  “Never,” she whispered, running her hands through his hair. She tugged a handful of Sal’s hair and stroked Jorah’s cheek. They pushed closer, all ten surrounding her, pressing tight, living armor to shield her all her life. Their bonds roared like Vulkar’s Mountain, holding her firm. “I’ll never leave you.”

  Father Josef smiled and bowed again. “As you wish, Your Majesty. Your love is great enough to carry them with you.”

  She raised her gaze, hope bubbling in her on a joyful shout. “Truly? We can all go?”

  “Who am I to stand in the way of such love?”

  A thud behind her announced the dropping of the gangplank. She took Dharman’s hand and tugged him to his feet. “Are you ready to ride, na’lanna Blood?”

  Eyes bright, Dharman replied, “To the ends of the earth.”

  She stepped onto the delicately carved gangplank, and a black hole tore open Our Blessed Lady’s Green and Beautiful Lands behind her. Whirling around, she dropped her left hand to the ivory rahke.

  Sand stung her face and tore at her clothes. Mykal’s eyes flashed silver as they hadn’t since the day she’d ripped the dragon out of him. His mouth fell open, horror twisting his face.

  A massive claw wrapped around him and dragged him down into a smoking, gaping pit. :Brightheart!:

  Lunging, she fisted her hand in his swirling ink-black hair as dark as the Shadows swallowing him. Dharman and Sal each held her, trying to pull her Keldari back from the brink. She dug in her feet, slipping and sliding in the sand.

  :I must repay my devalki,: Mykal whispered, his bond raging with shame and grief as raw as the wind trying to tear her from him. :I’ve always belonged to Shadow.:

  She wrapped another length of his hair about her right wrist. :No. You belong to me. I love you!:

  Shadow boiled below, howling and shrieking with glee. TOO LONG, I ALLOWED YOU TO HOLD MY MOST FAITHFUL SERVANT. TOO LONG, I ALLOWED HIM TO BELIEVE HIS SOUL WAS SAVED.

  WITH YOUR DEATH, HE IS MINE ONCE MORE.

  THE GREATEST LURE OF ALL HAS BEEN YOUR LOVE, AND NOW THAT LOVE DRAGS YOU TO ME. AT LAST, THIS SHINING BLOOD SHALL BE MINE.

  Black snakes whipped out of the hole, writhing and twisting, seeking her flesh. Wings buffeted her and the Blood. Vermin filled the air, biting and hissing, clogging her nose, crawling into her ears. The stench of death boiled up out the gaping hole, wider to devour all she held dear.

  Nine red bonds blazed in her mind, straining to hold her, but her boots slipped closer to the edge. In the deepest, darkest pit of hell, voices rose, wails and shrieks for mercy. For pity. For love.

  Blessed Lady above, I can’t let him end like this!

  :Brightest heart of the midnight sky, my heart has always been Given to you.: Mykal’s voice fell on their bond like sweet, gentle rain on a desert land that had not known moisture in a thousand years. :Release me, and save yourself from my doom.:

  Gritting her teeth, she unsheathed the ivory rahke. :Never.:

  Light blazed, a beacon against the Endless Night. Her marks cast rainbows into the sky: Rhaekhar’s high on her shoulder and one on her backside, Gregar’s on her other shoulder, Sal’s and Dharman’s on her breasts, and Mykal’s, on her inner thigh to match the one she’d given him in the Dream. She drew the blade across each mark, adding her blood to the weapon of her love.

  :I gave you my body. I gave you my blood.: She plunged the rahke directly into Mykal’s mark, and blood fountained from the major vein in her thigh. Howling with fury, Shadow roiled about her, a maelstrom of hatred so thick she couldn’t breathe. Poisonous sulfur blasted across her skin, sizzling, eating the flesh from her bones.

  But she refused to be silenced.

  :I gave you my Kiss, the wellspring of power from She Who Hung the Moon. I gave you my heart and my love, to you and my Blood, to my Khul and my laughing, Shadowed Blood. My love did not end with their death, and it surely does not end with mine! I’m Given to you, Mykal tal’Mamba, my dragon evermore!:

  Her heart swelled in her chest, too tight, her ribcage too small to let it beat. In her mind, the full moon gleamed, a single shining scale that grew bigger until it filled the sky, burning away every trace of the Endless Night. Drawing on her bonds, she flung herself up, soaring into Our Blessed Lady’s embrace.

  She fell with a thump, quickly followed by hard bodies that tumbled on top of her. Ears ringing, she couldn’t breathe, but this pain she welcomed. One by one, she counted the bonds in her mind: nine red bonds of Blood; and a black bond coiled like a sinuous dragon in the corner of her mind.

  Tears spilled, a joyous laugh bubbling out of her. I saved him, Mykal, my Keldari savage.

  Voice hushed and fragile, he bowed his forehead to hers. “You caught me.”

  “I will always catch you.” Breathless, she laughed, squished beneath him and likely Sal and Dharman too. “Or at least let you fall upon me.”

  Someone laughed, a low masculine chuckle of arrogance that had always either made her bristle with ire or blush with embarrassed desire. Rhaekhar! “Have you any other warriors to bring, my heart?”

  Two additional bonds glowed in her mind that she hadn’t felt fully in too many years to count. One glowed with all the golden warmth of the sun, while the other wound through her like midnight velvet, cold with the Shadow of Death.

  My warriors. All of them.

  One by one, her Blood climbed to their feet, untangling their limbs from hers. Sal had somehow managed to land between her thighs. He lapped at the blood trickling from Mykal’s mark and purred. Dharman, of course, was last to rise. He would always be the first to reach her, and the last to let her go.

  :I shall never let you go, na’lanna Qwen, not even to the darkest pit of hell.:

  With a wicked knowing wink, Gregar offered her a hand up. “It’s a very good thing that your Lady provided us with such a large ship.”

  Her cheeks were on fire, but her heart sang with too much joy and love to mind their jokes. She seized his hand, and he drew her up, straight into his arms. Sable hair, hay of the Plains, and strong, rich caffe with just a hint of syrupy sweetness, just the way she liked it. :Gregar, my Shadowed Blood, I love you.:

  Black velvet slithered inside her, so cold. His mouth settled on his mark in her shoulder. :I still carry your mark, na’lanna. I never thought of cutting it open again so that you would kiss it.:

  :All you ever needed to do—:

  Before she could finish that thought, he turned around, bent over, and flipped up his memsha. Of course he wore nothing beneath.

  Hooting with laughter, Sal had to show the mark in his ass too.

  “Only Gregar could turn such a glad homecoming into an arse competition.” Laughing, Rhaekhar shook his head. “Do you yield to me?”

  She jerked her gaze up to his. He’d said the same thing to her on a battlefield years ago after defeating her army. This time, he didn’t look at her; he stared at one of the warriors behind her.

  “Aye,” Dharman replied. “You have always been First in her heart.”

  For the first time in his life, he said it without rancor, because her First Blood knew very well how much she loved him. How much she loved them all.

  Rhaekhar stood with his legs planted wide, his hand wrapped around his rahke on his hip, with the morning sun blazing about his head, but that light dimmed compared to the molten heat in his golden eyes.

  Choking back a sob, she raced across the bobbing deck and launched herself into his arms.

  He held her tight, tucking her face against his neck. He smelled the same, sweet Plains hay, flowers,
baking bread, and warrior.

  My beloved barbarian Khul. As he swore so long ago, his love is unshakeable.

  So overwhelmed with love, she could only cry and laugh as all her warriors crowded close and wrapped her in their arms, but it was Rhaekhar's heart that beat beneath her cheek. “It’s been a long, long road.”

  The boat rocked gently like a galloping horse on the waves of mist, carrying them into the Clouds. Below, Our Blessed Lady’s Green and Beautiful Lands fell away.

  “Aye.” He gripped her chin and tilted her face up to his, his big hand so gentle and sure. “I love you more this day than the day I died.”

  “Your death was the darkest day of my life.” She fisted her hands in his hair and drew his head down to her. “I ran from your love, and then I ran from the sorrow of your death. I ran from my Blood who loved me, afraid I might suffer that pain again.”

  “Shannari dal’Dainari never ran from anything.”

  “Not for long,” she whispered, brushing her mouth against his. “I’d suffer a thousand defeats and deaths if only to hold you once more.”

  “No more deaths, na’lanna. No more pain. On my honor, we’ll share only endless love.”

  Heart open wide, she sealed her mouth to his. Nothing stood in the way of his love, not even death. His bond blazed, a shining sun of molten fire. She flung herself down that golden path, giving her heart and soul to him all over again.

  Love enfolded her, hair tumbling into her face: golden brown and sable, red and black, scents mingling into one scent that meant one thing only.

  Home.

  :Now, my heart, I run to you.:

  About the Author

  JOELY ALWAYS HAS HER NOSE buried in a book, especially one with mythology, fairy tales and romance. She, her husband and their three monsters live in Missouri. By day, she’s a computer programmer with a Masters of Science degree in Mathematics. When night falls, she bespells the monsters so she can write.

  Read more about her current projects on her website, http://joelysueburkhart.com/. Return to Shanhasson is Joely’s tenth published title.