by Jenna Glass
“Presumed dead,” Tynthanal clarified. “His body has yet to be found in all the rubble around the Well, but there is little question that he was there when…whatever it was happened. He personally dismissed the guards, and it’s clear he decided to allow Mairahsol to try her spell on the Well despite the council’s objections.”
Alys shook her head at the utter stupidity Delnamal had displayed. Even Kailee, who had befriended Mairahsol and hoped to persuade her to remain in Women’s Well, had conceded that the woman harbored a chilling level of resentment in her heart. And yet somehow, impossibly, Delnamal had allowed himself to believe her claims and given her access to Aaltah’s Well after he’d all but imprisoned her.
“We can always hope the searchers find him alive under there somehow,” she murmured. “I can only imagine how the council and the people of Aaltah would treat him.”
“Yes,” Tynthanal agreed. “Even if he’s found alive, he will never sit on that throne again. But Lord Aldnor and the council have already made the presumption of death and voted to instate a regent for young Prince Tahrend.”
Alys was startled to realize that Tynthanal was speaking of his former commander as if Lord Aldnor were the Lord Commander of Aaltah. “I was under the impression that Lord Aldnor had been removed from the council.”
Tynthanal nodded. “It seems that was one of the least popular decisions of Delnamal’s reign, which is saying a lot. He was reinstated the moment the council realized what Delnamal had done—and that he was no longer their king.”
“Did Lord Aldnor mention whom the council was considering to act as regent?”
Something changed in Tynthanal’s posture and expression, and Alys focused on him in a way she had not been doing for the last several minutes as she pondered all the implications of Delnamal’s apparent demise.
“As a matter of fact, he did.”
Alys blinked and frowned when her brother did not continue. “Well? Who is it?”
“Me.”
Alys’s jaw dropped and she stared at him in amazement. “You?” she asked in a tiny whisper.
He nodded and tapped the letter absently against his leg as he finally stopped pacing. “I am Prince Tahrend’s closest living male relative. I gather I was not the council’s unanimous choice—and Lord Aldnor made clear in his letter that he still considers me a traitor to the Crown, so he was obviously one of the dissenting voices. But I think they hope that by appointing me as the prince’s regent, they will mend fences with all the rulers that Delnamal offended.”
Alys narrowed her eyes at him. “You mean they think they can get access to the resources of Women’s Well if you are regent.”
His lips tipped up in a half-smile. “I’m certain that was part of the reasoning.” His smile disappeared as fast as it had appeared. “There’s one more thing. There’s no sign that the abbess’s spell reversed our mother’s, but Lord Aldnor did confide in me that the Well does not seem to be producing as many elements as before. It’s possible that the blockage in the Well chamber is the problem, but I can’t imagine that rubble could stop elements from escaping. After all, our own Well is completely submerged in water, and the elements have no trouble escaping it.”
Alys shivered in a phantom chill. “You think Mairahsol’s spell might have damaged it in some way?”
“Let’s just say I wouldn’t rule out the possibility, and apparently the council wouldn’t, either. Aldnor mentioned that the grand magus was one of my chief supporters.”
Alys nodded, for it made sense. Equally skilled at both magic and a soldier’s arts, Tynthanal had chosen a life in the military over a life as a spell crafter, but he had tested as an Adept. And he was the only man anyone knew of who was capable of seeing and using feminine elements, thanks to all the special abilities that had been bred into their mother’s blood.
Alys’s chest tightened as she regarded her brother, and she wished she could return them to the warm and loving relationship they had once enjoyed. She very much wanted to throw her arms around him just now, but she couldn’t bear it if he rejected her. There was no question in her mind that he meant to accept the appointment, despite being not only her brother but also her lord chancellor.
“Are you asking my permission to take the regency?” she asked. “Or are you merely informing me that you intend to take it?” The words came out sounding colder and more distant than she’d have liked, but she needed that coldness to keep her true feelings from bursting out. Tears were not a luxury a sovereign princess could afford.
Tynthanal drew himself up stiffly and answered in a similar tone. “I am your loyal subject, Your Royal Highness. I would not presume to accept any position with another kingdom against your wishes.”
“Once upon a time, you insisted you had no desire to rule.” Of course, that was back when he was trying to convince Alys to declare herself the sovereign princess of a new principality.
“I don’t. But my father’s kingdom needs me, and I can’t see turning my back on it now that Delnamal’s gone. If it weren’t for him, I never would have become an enemy of Aaltah in the first place.”
Alys put a hand to her breastbone, trying to rub away the ache that was forming behind it. If not for Delnamal, she, too, would still be back in Aaltah. She’d be living the simple life of a widowed mother and caretaker of her late husband’s estate. How blissful that would have been!
“Have you discussed this with Kailee?” she asked. “A man of Women’s Well should not make decisions that affect them both without consulting his wife. I don’t imagine she’s eager to journey to a kingdom where her blindness will be a source of shame and discomfort once again and where she will be forbidden to practice magic.”
“She will practice magic however much she likes,” Tynthanal said, “and anyone who treats her poorly will live to regret it.” There was a degree of ferocity in his response that raised Alys’s eyebrows. “But yes, I will discuss it with her before I give my final answer. I didn’t want to distress her if you were going to forbid me to go.”
“And what about Chanlix?” She was well aware that something had changed between the two of them since the wedding. “You plan to abandon her to raise your child by herself?”
Tynthanal bristled at her tone, but then seemed to calm himself. “I will talk it over with her, too. But I suspect you know that we are not…together anymore. Even with the child on the way, it might be easier for all involved if she and I lived apart. The three of us will make the final decision together, but only if you approve first.”
She shut her eyes and thought surely this time she would lose her battle against tears. A tear slipped out from under her closed lids, and Alys blinked it away. She desperately wanted her brother to stay, wanted to find some way to repair the damage she had done to their relationship when she’d arranged his marriage. But she was not so selfish as to keep him in Women’s Well against his wishes, and she also suspected their relationship might be easier to repair with distance. Perhaps living in Aaltah, without the specter of Chanlix and her baby constantly paraded in front of their faces, he and his new young wife might make a true start together.
“I will miss you terribly,” she admitted, swallowing past the lump in her throat.
Tynthanal’s eyes closed and he sighed in evident relief. “Let’s not say our goodbyes just yet. Even if Kailee and Chanlix both agree, we’ll have to make some arrangements before I leave, and that will take time.”
Alys nodded, but her throat was too tight to speak. Yes, he would have to stay just a little longer—at least until they’d decided who would take the lord chancellor’s position once he was gone—but she would not wait until he was gone before she would start missing him.
* * *
—
Chanlix sat on the usually comfortable sofa in her parlor and felt as if it were bucking and pitching beneath her. “W-what?” she
asked, unable to comprehend what she’d just heard.
“We want you to come with us,” Kailee repeated with a gentle smile. Sitting stiffly in the chair beside Kailee’s, Tynthanal wore an expression so bland that he was clearly trying to hide what he felt, though his need to hide his feelings spoke volumes.
“You can’t be serious,” Chanlix said, shaking her head as if doing so would change Kailee’s meaning.
Chanlix could not deny that her heart had dropped when Tynthanal said he wanted to go back to Aaltah to act as regent. This was the first time he’d set foot in her house since the wedding, and it seemed for all the world that although they both loved each other still, they were neither one willing to carry on an affair. Even with Kailee’s approval. Yet the thought of him leaving to reside in Aaltah until the infant king reached majority was bound to leave her weeping into her pillow tonight.
But go with them?
“I am very serious,” Kailee said earnestly, and it was impossible to doubt that she meant it. “You are a big part of my husband’s life, and you carry his child. I know the two of you have been…squeamish because of me, but I never wanted to come between you. And I certainly don’t want to come between Tynthanal and his son or daughter. As I said before, there are three of us in this marriage. And that means all three of us should stay together.”
Tynthanal shifted in his chair. It was, so far, the only sign he had shown of his discomfort with the whole subject. Kailee’s head tilted toward him ever so slightly—just enough to let him know she had not missed the subtle movement and what it meant. Tynthanal froze, barely seeming to breathe.
Chanlix surprised herself with a small laugh. “How on earth did you persuade him to go along with this?” she asked the young woman, who blushed.
Tynthanal turned a rueful—and surprisingly affectionate—smile in Kailee’s direction, despite his obvious tension. “You know what it’s like trying to say no to her,” he said.
Kailee let out an impatient huff. “The two of you will drive me to drink!” she said crisply. “We all know you love each other. And that you both are fond of me, as I am of you. Surely we can find some way to make things work.” A hint of melancholy crept into her face and voice. “In Aaltah, I will be alone and friendless.”
Tynthanal opened his mouth to object, but Kailee anticipated him and waved him off. “I know I will have you,” she said, “and you are an excellent friend. But you will be even busier as prince regent than you have been as lord chancellor. You will not have time to coddle me, no matter what you might like. And while you can force most courtiers to be polite to me, you cannot make them into friends.” She turned back to Chanlix. “If you come with me, I will have at least one friend who I can confide in and who I know does not judge me for my circumstances.”
“You could stay here, you know,” Chanlix said. “You would not be the first husband and wife to live apart.” In some ways, Kailee would lose more than any of them, for it was impossible not to see how happy she was in Women’s Well. How cruel that she should have this taste of freedom and then have it snatched away so quickly. The court of Aaltah was unlikely to be welcoming, and as the wife of the prince regent, she would not have the luxury of hiding away from the public eye to avoid the scrutiny and disapproval.
Kailee reached over and patted Tynthanal’s arm. “Tynthanal already told me he will not compel me to go with him. But he will face enough resistance without putting himself in the socially awkward situation of leaving his new wife behind.”
Tynthanal shook his head. “The real reason she insists on going is that she wants a chance to clear Mairahsol’s name. She hopes to figure out exactly what Mairahsol did and miraculously turn it into a good deed.”
Kailee’s jaw jutted out stubbornly. “She has no one else in all of Seven Wells to speak up for her. She was my first and best friend, and I will not let her memory live in infamy until I have seen sufficient evidence that she is to blame for whatever happened at that Well.”
The warmth that glowed in Chanlix’s chest suggested that she had grown even more fond of this remarkable, exasperating young woman than she’d realized. How she managed to retain anything like faith in humanity given her upbringing was a mystery to Chanlix, and her loyalty was nigh unshakable. Too bad she’d given that loyalty to a woman who did not deserve it. Now that Mairahsol was presumably dead—no bodies had yet been recovered from the rubble, but a mysterious veiled woman had been seen going down to the Well that night, and who else could it have been? Chanlix supposed there was no point in trying to make Kailee see that the abbess had been using her all along and had never been anything like a true friend.
Kailee sighed and shook her head. “I know you all think she was manipulating me, but you are wrong.”
Despite her conviction that it was both unnecessary and futile, Chanlix couldn’t keep a sarcastic reply from popping out. “Yes, it was entirely coincidental that you thought to give her a gift that would help her escape.”
Kailee’s hands clenched in her lap, and she seemed to fight some internal battle as she opened her mouth to speak then stopped herself several times. Finally, she unclenched her hands and reached into a pocket of her dress and pulled out a small vial.
“I had not wanted to tell anyone about this,” she said, closing her hand over the vial as if to belatedly shield it from view. “I must ask you both to please, please not pressure me, to do me the same courtesy as Mairah and let it be my own decision whether to try it or not.” Tears shimmered in her eyes, and there was a slight hitch in her breath as she opened her hand to reveal the vial. “Before I gave her the Trapper spell, Mairah gave me this.”
Chanlix shared a look with Tynthanal that spoke volumes, and she knew without a word being said that they were both alarmed at the very notion of Mairahsol giving Kailee a potion—and relieved that Kailee had not naïvely swallowed it in her trust of her great good friend.
“What is it?” Tynthanal asked. His eyes went white as he opened his Mindseye to examine the potion that Kailee still held clasped in her hand.
Kailee was far too perceptive not to have noticed the tension and suspicion around her, but she ignored it. “Mairah hopes…hoped…it is something that will give me the gift of eyesight, though she couldn’t be sure it would work on my particular condition. She tested it herself, and it temporarily forced her Mindseye closed.” She bit her lip and glanced down at the vial in her hand. “It was a gift given out of friendship. I’m sure you’re both thinking it might be some kind of poison, but she encouraged me to show it to you before I tried it to reassure myself. Not that I ever had any doubt.”
Tynthanal’s eyes cleared, and he once again met Chanlix’s gaze. “I see nothing alarming in it,” he said, “but it may well contain elements I cannot see.” Because of his bloodline, Tynthanal was the only man Chanlix had ever heard of who could see some feminine elements, but some was a far cry from all. “We should show it to Alys.”
“No,” Kailee said, immediately and decisively. “If I’d wanted the existence of this potion to be common knowledge, I would have told someone about it long ago. I am trusting the two of you to keep it a secret and not to press me to take it. If I were staying in Women’s Well, I would not try it at all. I meant it when I said I didn’t want to be ‘cured.’ But it’s possible that my life in Aalwell will require me to take the chance, whether I want to or not.”
“I know you trust Mairahsol,” Chanlix started slowly, trying to choose her words carefully, but Kailee cut her off.
“If it will make the two of you feel better, I’ll create my own dose, so I can guarantee that there’s nothing in it I can’t see. If I decide to take it, which remains to be seen.”
“We should still show it to Alys,” Tynthanal said. “It’s very likely she can fine-tune it if it turns out to be as benign as you think.”
“No,” Kailee said again, just as firmly. �
�The more people who know about its existence, the greater the chances I’ll be pressured to take it. I can’t even imagine what it would be like if my father ever found out about it.” She shuddered delicately.
Chanlix’s heart broke just a little on Kailee’s behalf. Her constantly open Mindseye was a part of what made her herself, and Chanlix could hardly imagine how much having that part of herself rejected must have hurt. But she could not help thinking that a potion that would force someone’s Mindseye closed might have potentially useful—and not-so-benign—applications. It also made her wonder whether Mairahsol had had any of those less-benign applications in mind when she had developed the potion for Kailee, but she knew better than to mention the possibility.
“I’m not sure I can promise to keep this secret forever,” Chanlix said, because she refused to lie about it. “I am the Grand Magus of Women’s Well, after all.”
“Not if you come with us to Aaltah,” Kailee countered.
Chanlix shook her head. “Which I cannot do.” She leaned forward so that she could pat Kailee’s arm in what she hoped was a comforting way. “I appreciate the invitation, and I can’t tell you how much your generosity of spirit means to me. But my place is here.” What she did not say—and what she suspected Tynthanal knew full well—was that after the things that had happened to her there, Chanlix had no intention of ever setting foot in Aaltah again. She read a combination of sorrow and acceptance in his expression, and she drank in the sight of his dear face while she still could.
“I’m not sure yet how I will manage it,” he said, “but I swear to you I will be a father to our child. Even while we live apart.”
Chanlix nodded, unable to speak over the lump that had formed in her throat. She had no doubt that Tynthanal would keep his word.
“I wish you would come,” Kailee said wistfully.
