But she could not think in that way. It was not to be.
“Now that we have finished with this, it is time for our return to Vasha,” Endric was saying.
Isandra considered the old general. There were secrets to him that she still didn’t know. He kept much from the Magi and had kept much from the Antrilii too. He served a different master than either of the other groups did, and that surprised her almost more than anything else she’d seen and learned in these past months. What was this Conclave, and what did it mean for him to sit upon it and for him to be a part of it? What did it mean that he suggested that she should participate in it?
“You have provided a great service once again, Endric.” Rebecca sat in one of the chairs that was usually angled toward the fire. Now, it was turned to consider the rest of the room. She surveyed those present, her gaze going from Isandra to Jassan, before returning to Endric.
There were other Antrilii in the room, all tribal leaders, and all men Isandra had met over the preceding weeks. Of them, Nahrsin was the most notable. She could see the similarities between him and Endric, from the sharp point of their jaws, to the hard edge to their eyes, a feature that was almost as much Antrilii as it was their shared lineage. Both men had flat gray eyes that seemed knowing. Nahrsin had a hint of humor to his and a smile curved the corners of his mouth that Endric did not share.
“I have provided nothing. It was Mage Isandra who provided the service.”
Endric turned and regarded her for a moment before turning his attention back to Rebecca. She led the Yahinv and had been the one to initiate the healing that had restored Isandra.
Isandra had realized that she might be as skilled as any Mage on the Council. Many of the Yahinv could make that claim. When she returned to Vasha—after everything she’d seen and experienced, it was strange for her to think when and not if—would she share with the Council how skilled the Yahinv where?
Isandra doubted that she would. Much like Endric, she did not feel it was her secret to share. The Antrilii deserved that for everything they had done for her.
“Yes. Mage Isandra.” Rebecca seemed to make a point of emphasizing her title. Was that her way of encouraging Isandra to leave?
Isandra had been welcomed before, but that was when she was powerless, branded by the Deshmahne, and possessing little more than a trickle of ability. She had yet to test the extent of her abilities, though in the days since she had felt the change, there had been an increasing sense of restoration. How long would it last? Was it temporary? It had required her to force her mind open, and she had willingly done it, but would it be a lasting change?
When she next saw Alriyn, it was something she could ask him. The Second Eldest—now Eldest, she had to remind herself—had done something similar. That had shocked her. Any Mage who had attempted to force her mind open in the past had been damaged by it. For him to have survived… it told her they didn’t understand their abilities nearly as well as they believed. Then again, that had been evident from her own experience. Had the Magi understood their abilities, they would have understood there was a different connection between them, and they might have recognized that there was a shared connection to others.
“I will be escorting the Magi back to Vasha,” Endric said. “Is there any message you would like for them to hear?”
Rebecca sniffed. She glanced in Isandra’s direction, a hint of a smile playing across her lips. “They may take this,” she said. She reached into a pocket and pulled a book from it.
Isandra didn’t have to approach to know what it was. It was an Antrilii copy of the mahne. Of all the things she had learned in Farsea, that might have been the most shocking. How could the Antrilii possess a copy of the Magi’s most sacred text and one that was completely intact?
Not only one, but two? Jostephon had stolen the first. Why would the Antrilii have a second, especially when they didn’t view it as sacred, as did the Urmahne?
When—and if—Alriyn ever learned of it, she imagined he would be shocked. He had been one of the Council who believed in the sacred nature of that text. All on the Council had been, though Alriyn most of all.
Endric took the offered book and flipped through the pages. He nodded. “They will be pleased to have a complete copy of the mahne. The Yahinv were wise to make a copy.”
Isandra’s breath caught. Endric knew of the mahne?
There was much more to that man than she had ever known.
“Mage Isandra has already examined one of our copies. I believe it means much more to the Magi than it does to the Antrilii, which was why we thought to make duplicates.”
Endric smiled. “There might be things the Magi possess that could be more valuable to the Antrilii than to the Magi.”
Rebecca tapped her fingers to her lips. “That is possible. It would be a wonder if the Magi ever allow outsiders to study with them.”
“Much has changed, Rebecca. Much will continue to change. It must, or those with power will lose it. Already, the Magi have begun to leave Vasha. Many have traveled beyond the borders of their home for the first time in their lives, approaching kings and councils as they hope to gain influence in the world once more.”
“Influence? Is that something that should impress me?”
“Perhaps it should not. And perhaps the Magi do not have the kind of influence that would impress the Antrilii. I think that, more than anything, the fact that they no longer isolate themselves as they had should be what interests us.” Endric paused. “Consider this scholar Alison who has accompanied the Magi. That never would have happened before.”
Rebecca laughed. “I think… I think you are right, Endric. That never would have happened before. The Magi have always been too arrogant to believe that others could offer them any help.”
“I don’t see their arrogance changing quickly, but they can learn. And they can begin to accept outside assistance. Including the Antrilii.”
Rebecca turned to Isandra and waved at her. “You may go. There are a few things I need to say to those who are Antrilii.”
She stood and wondered whether Endric would part with her, or if he was considered one of the Antrilii. She got her answer when he remained.
She made her way out of the House of the Yahinv and stood outside in the sunlight and the warmth of the day. Her merahl companion padded over to her, and she scratched his chin. The merahl offered a soft purring sound that carried with it a sense of communication, as well as appreciation and alertness. The merahl was ready for anything that might come, even in Farsea.
After a while, the other Antrilii who had been in the House of the Yahinv appeared. Jassan spoke to the other tribal leaders, spending a few moments with Nahrsin before they departed for the city.
Jassan came toward her and glanced at the merahl before turning his attention back to Isandra. The merahl started away, giving them some space.
“I expected more,” Isandra said.
Jassan gave her a sympathetic smile. “The Yahinv will not make any quick decisions. They have listened to what you said.”
“Listened?” That hadn’t been Isandra’s impression, though perhaps they had. She had already learned that the Yahinv cared as much for the preservation of the Antrilii as they did for the destruction of the groeliin. She had hoped that sharing with them that the groeliin could be changed and that their destructive nature could be controlled, might lead the Yahinv to assist with what she thought was necessary. That hadn’t happened.
She looked toward Farsea, knowing that she should return, but wanted to catch Rebecca once more before she departed, willing to wait. Jassan stood near her. The distance that had begun to grow between them, that which she suspected came from his understanding of what needed to happen for both of them, was there in his posture as much as anything else.
As they stood outside of the massive, circular building, Jassan held her hand, and she enjoyed the connection, wishing it could last. It was not to be.
Her merahl companion remai
ned nearby, prowling and ever vigilant, ensuring that no harm would come to him. Isandra whistled softly, and the merahl padded over to her. She patted the creature on the back of the neck, scratching his ears.
“Were you concerned about this visit?” she asked the merahl.
The merahl made a soft noise in the back of his throat. It was a mix of a howl and a whine. There was enough familiarity to the sound that she recognized it, and she knew what the merahl said to her. Caution.
Why should the merahl warn her toward caution here at the House of the Yahinv? This should be a safe place, a place that she would be protected, but Isandra had to admit that she had felt nervous, and more than a little reluctant to enter.
“I was not concerned to visit the Yahinv,” Jassan said. He turned to her and noticed how she was scratching the merahl, and smiled. “But then, you weren’t asking me, were you?”
“I knew you wouldn’t be concerned.”
Jassan sighed. “The hunt has changed. It used to be simple, and it used to be that we knew exactly how the Antrilii were to serve, and the way that we needed to hunt.”
“The hunt hasn’t changed, but the ending is closer than you realize.”
Jassan grunted. “Everything has changed.”
“Why do you say that?”
“We’ve hunted groeliin for over a thousand years, Isandra. In that time, we’ve known that they must be destroyed. If the Antrilii had not intervened, the groeliin would have spread south, wielding their influence and destruction on people who were ill-equipped to survive. That is the reason that the Antrilii have existed.”
“None of that needs to change.”
Jassan looked south, toward the rising mountains. It was a clear day, and the sun shone overhead, its light gleaming off the snowcapped peaks. A comfortable breeze drifted in and out of the west and tugged at her hair and cloak. She had only been in Farsea a short time, but already, it had begun to feel like home. Already, it was comfortable, though strikingly different from Vasha and the home she had known her whole life. And now she would have to leave it.
“None? I think all of it needs to change. The groeliin aren’t nearly what we thought they were. They are destructive, but there can be good in them.”
“Whatever good is in them depends on what kind of teralin they feed on,” Isandra said. She was the one who had made the discovery, and even she wasn’t naïve enough to believe that all the groeliin could be restored. But, if she was right, it did mean that future generations of groeliin would not have to be as dangerous… or as deadly. It was possible that future generations might be able to live among the rest of the world, perhaps secluded much as the Antrilii had been over the years, but they would not need to be destroyed, not as she had once believed.
“We have access to much teralin,” Jassan said.
“Access to it, but it all must be charged in the right way. Are there enough Antrilii who know how to charge the teralin?”
Isandra honestly didn’t know. She knew so little about teralin, and so little about the Antrilii connection to it, that she wasn’t certain.
“There have always been Antrilii who understand the connection to teralin. That is how we have crafted our swords. We have a connection to the metal that—”
Isandra nodded. “I understand the connection,” she said, patting the sword sheathed at her side. What must she look like to the Magi who remained in Farsea? Alriyn had traveled north and had brought a delegation from the Council of Magi, a council of which she’d been a member, but her connection to the Council and to the rest of the Magi was drastically different now.
Jassan nodded and looked back toward the mountains. He fell into a silence, and she detected tension between them, though didn’t know why that should be. Jassan had been her guide and her constant companion, and had been responsible for training her, helping her understand how to use the sword and how to regain her Mage abilities. Now those abilities were restored, though still underdeveloped.
“What is it?” she asked.
Jassan breathed out. Worry lined his face. It was unusual for him to be worried. Even when facing the groeliin, there was a quiet confidence about Jassan that stemmed from his training and experience, but also from a deep-felt commitment to the gods and what they served. His angular jaw clenched, and he turned toward her, his deep blue eyes seeming to swallow her.
“It is you,” Jassan said.
Isandra smiled. “Me? I hope I’m not making you troubled.”
Jassan shook his head. “I have lived my life as a warrior. I have led my tribe as well as I could. I have served the Antrilii, knowing that our needs are greater than my own.”
“I don’t understand what is troubling you. I haven’t asked you to change any of that. If we can save even a few of the groeliin—”
Jassan shook his head. “It’s not about the groeliin, Isandra. This is about you. And me.” His face flushed slightly, but he did not look away from her.
Her heart fluttered. “Jassan, I wouldn’t change anything about you.”
“Your coming here has changed everything for me. That’s what I’m trying to say, though I know I don’t speak nearly as eloquently as you, or as eloquently as those of the Yahinv. I…”
Isandra smiled sadly and took his hands in hers, pulling him toward her. “When I was in Vasha, I thought I knew all that I needed. I thought I understood the world. I believed the Magi had a right to power and believed that we were servants of the gods. I agreed to travel to Rondalin, thinking that my Magi connection to the gods would grant me protection.” She laughed bitterly. “The Deshmahne cared little for my Magi connection, and there was a time when I thought that perhaps my belief in the gods was misplaced.”
Jassan held on to her hands. His were massive, practically swallowing hers, but he held them gently. She enjoyed the warmth from his coarse grip. “None of that matters,” he said.
“It all matters. Had I not gone to Rondalin, I never would have been captured. I never would have been branded. I never would have lost everything.”
“And now that you have it back?”
She squeezed his hands and silently reached for her Mage abilities. They were there, restored, though like everything else in her life, that connection had changed. Before, her Mage abilities required her to open up a connection in her mind. Now, it seemed as if that connection was open constantly. She could see power and energy swirling around others, as it was around Jassan now. It gave her an even greater understanding of her connection to the gods, one that she never would have appreciated had she not lost them in the first place.
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” Isandra said. “I might have my abilities restored, but I’m thankful that I lost them, if only for a time.”
A corner of his mouth twitched, almost a smile. “You are… thankful?”
“What else could I be? Had I not been injured, I would never have agreed to come with the Antrilii. I never would have understood the threat of the groeliin. I never would have learned to fight with the sword, or that the groeliin could be salvaged.”
Jassan blinked. “Is that all?”
She pulled him close and dared to kiss him on the cheek. “I never would have met you.”
He held her gaze, and there was strength and warmth and affection all mixed within it. Her heart fluttered in a way that it had not before.
“And now? Now will you return to Vasha?”
“I thought I might. I thought I would want to, but…”
A glimmer of hope passed across his eyes.
“I think I need to return, even if I don’t want to,” she said. “Endric indicated that there are others who study and know of the groeliin and of the power that connects everything in the world. If there are these others, and if they didn’t know about the possibility of saving the groeliin, how could I not go and see what I could do to help?”
Jassan clenched his jaw. “I would go with you, if you would allow it.”
It was what she had ho
ped, but not what she had dared to think possible. That was part of the reason for the silence between them on the journey back to Farsea. Jassan was Antrilii, and he needed to serve as his people required. She could not ask him to leave, not if it meant sacrificing their needs.
“Of course, I would allow it. I didn’t think…”
“Nahrsin will remain with the Antrilii. Now that the tribes are unified, there will be less objection to my departure.”
“What of the Yahinv?”
Jassan smiled. “I shared with Rebecca my intent.”
“And what intent is that?”
“I will travel with you as I said, but for me to do so, Rebecca and the Yahinv placed a stipulation on me.”
Isandra frowned, watching Jassan, worried about what stipulation Rebecca might require of him.
“I may not leave the Antrilii lands with an outlander.”
“Then I don’t see how you can come with me.”
“I could if you were not an outlander.”
“Jassan, I am not Antrilii.”
He took her hands and squeezed. “You have shown the heart and mind of an Antrilii warrior. I have seen the determination within you. I have seen that you have a willingness to do what is right. And I have seen great compassion within you.”
“Again, I am not Antrilii.”
He unsheathed his sword and stabbed it into the soil. He knelt on the ground in front of it, placing his hand on the hilt. He looked up at her, his eyes shining with less confidence than she was used to seeing there.
“If you would be willing, I would ask the gods to bring us together and unify us.”
Isandra blinked, not certain what to say, or how to react. “What are you—”
“I am asking, Isandra, for you to be my wife.”
Chapter Five
The Gift of Madness (The Lost Prophecy Book 7) Page 4
