by Keri Arthur
“Impossible for an air witch,” he cut in. “But not for a witch who can hear the whispers of both.”
“But I’m unlit!” It was all but torn from me. I didn’t want to be a witch. Didn’t want to be forced from the Nightwatch and all that I knew and loved. “Besides, I didn’t think it was possible for a witch to hold more than one power.”
“Generally, it’s not. Witches are born into one of three categories—earth, air, or personal. It’s been so since time began, and it’s only in the last few hundred years that we’ve seen the beginning of a change.”
I frowned. “Since the war, you mean?”
He nodded, and then slapped my rump lightly. “Shall we continue this discussion in warmer surrounds? The air is getting cold.”
The air stirred around me in irritation, and a smile touched my lips. “The air thinks you’ve grown soft within the warm walls of your outpost.”
He laughed again and pushed me upright. Once he’d also stood, he twined his fingers in mine and led me inside. My gaze went to the utter destruction of the bedchamber and came to rest rather unerringly on the remnants of flesh and the slowly drying stain that was all that remained of Pyra.
Why had she been directed to kill herself? What did the queen fear she might reveal?
“Don’t feel sorry for her,” Trey said, his voice holding a cold edge. “Because she certainly would not have felt anything resembling compassion or sorrow for you.”
I glanced at him. “I thought you didn’t know her?”
“I’ve discreetly asked around about her. She wasn’t well-liked in this place.” He hesitated. “Why don’t you go shower while I take care of the mess?”
“But—”
He pulled his hand free and lightly pushed me forward. “Go. Blood stains your face, and I cannot tend to your wounds until they are washed.”
Frustration born of the need for answers stirred through me, but I nodded and headed for the curtained-off bathing area. The earth rumbled and rolled as I showered, but it was nowhere near as violent or as noisy as the quake I’d called into being. Which was no surprise given Trey was behind whatever the earth was currently endeavoring.
The wound on my face turned out to be long but not deep; it skimmed the edge of my left eye and the stain on my cheek before disappearing just under my ear. There were a few bruises and a couple of minor scratches over the rest of my body, but all in all, I’d been rather lucky. It could have been a whole lot worse if the wind had not fought Pyra’s commands.
By the time I’d finished, Trey was just coming out of the bedchamber. All the broken furniture, torn wall hangings, and twisted bedding remained scattered everywhere, but there was no evidence the floor had ever buckled and moved, and absolutely no sign that someone had committed suicide within the room.
“What happened to Pyra’s remains?”
His smile held little in the way of warmth or amusement. “I shoved her deep within the earth. She deserves neither an official burial nor a marker, not when she was involved in a betrayal of Winterborne.”
“You can’t be sure whatever she’s involved in is as deep as that.” I paused. “Does such a burial mean her spirit won’t rise to join the greater consciousness?”
“It does indeed.”
“A harsh fate if her scheming isn’t part of a plot to bring down Winterborne.”
“If I turn out to be wrong, then I’ll exhume her remains and pass them on so that she can be buried in a fitting manner. But I’m not.”
Part of me still hoped he was, but only because I didn’t want to think anyone would want to bring Winterborne down. “And her bracelets?”
“They’re safely hidden within the walls. I’ll retrieve them if and when we need them.” His gaze scanned me critically—a look that spoke more of a commander checking one of his people than anything more intimate. “Would you like a healing cream for that wound on your face?”
I shook my head. “I’m Sifft. It’ll be healed by tomorrow.”
“Good, because the official welcome and de-masking is tomorrow night.” He motioned to the nearest double cloudsak. “Have a seat. I’ll grab us both a drink so we can continue the conversation.”
I sat down on the cloudsak and crossed my legs. Not a very ladylike position given I was naked, but then I was a soldier, not a lady. “Why are you so sure a plot to bring down Winterborne even exists?”
“Because there’s been some unusual vibrations happening under the earth for many years now, and while the earth cannot—or, more worryingly, will not—tell me its source, it seems to be aimed at Winterborne.”
“So its source is coming from here somewhere?”
He began gathering a tray of sweetmeats, cheeses, and breads. “That is unclear.”
“Then how did you get involved in this search? Blacklake’s a very long way from Winterborne.”
“Which is precisely why Kiro asked for my assistance.” He placed the platter on the floor near my feet, and then poured two glasses of rich red wine. He handed one to me then sat down beside me, his body warm against mine. “But he also asked because I owe him.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Why?”
He hesitated. Just for an instant, an odd sort of defensiveness flashed across his face. I touched his arm lightly. “You don’t have to tell me, Commander.”
“Trey, please, at least in this place. And I should, because it goes to the heart of why I know so much about your situation.” He paused. “You once asked how I ended up at Blacklake.”
I reached forward and made a sandwich of thick cheese and bread. “And you said you’d only tell me if I won the bet.”
“I think we’ve gone past such games at this point.”
“I’m glad.”
“So am I. Although restraint remains the best option—at least until tomorrow night’s unmasking.”
“A statement that doesn’t preclude the possibility of intercourse,” I noted, amused.
He smiled. “No matter what you think, I’m not made of stone. But what I’m about to tell you mustn’t be repeated anywhere else in this place; this you must swear.”
“You have my word on that, Commander.”
“Trey.” He hesitated. “The first part, everyone knows. Eighteen years ago I had a liaison with Jaci Fisk, as she was known back then. Said liaison produced a child.”
I just about choked on my sandwich. “You what? How old were you?”
“I was six months away from my sixteenth birthday.”
Which was technically underage by the Forum’s rule, and a punishable offense. “What happened?”
“While it was a mutually agreed act, she admitted to deliberately getting pregnant in the hope I’d commit to her when I came of age. Such a joining would have raised both her status and that of her house.”
“The Fisk house being Lower Reaches?”
“Yes—and not known for producing anything more than mediocre witches.” He paused. “Anyway, because I was underage at the time of the child’s conception, my father had the right of refusal over any possible agreement. He forbade it, stating if there was to be a committal, it would come after the babe was born.”
“When the auditors revealed what the child was?” Or, more precisely, wasn’t?
He nodded, and his expression began to glow with something close to rapture and utter, utter love. It was so powerful, so strong and beautiful, that tears prickled my eyes. Oh, to be the recipient of such depth of emotion… a dream, I knew, but nevertheless a pleasant one.
“And she was perfect in every single way imaginable,” he murmured, obviously no longer really seeing me, “but she was stained, and also unlit. My father, as you can imagine, did not react well.”
“So there was no committal?”
He laughed, the sound bitter. “No. Not just because of the babe, but because the admittance of such conniving killed any feelings I might have had for her.”
“And the child went into state care?”
“They
practically ripped her out of my arms to do so. I had such a row with my father that night—it’s the reason why we speak little even now.” He paused, the joy I’d briefly seen falling to moments of old pain, anger, and hurt. “Two days later, I was accepted for the position of earth witch at Blacklake. Five days later, Kiro helped me smuggle my daughter away from state care and out of Winterborne.”
That he—someone who’d been raised in the luxurious rule of this place—would even consider such a thing, let alone go through with it, not only left me speechless, but fighting the tears that were stinging my eyes. To give up everything he’d known for the sake of his child—a child he’d held for no more than a few minutes—was a phenomenal thing to do. Especially given he was barely sixteen at the time.
I blinked rapidly and managed to ask, in a somewhat normal voice, “Why would Kiro help you, when for all intents and purposes he was going against Forum rules?”
“Because years ago, when he was little older than I was when my daughter was born, he fell in love with my mother, but the union was considered unacceptable by her father. Kiro didn’t hold the power that he does now.” He half shrugged. “What he did for me, he did out of the love he still holds for her. She asked him to help me.”
“So you owing him a huge favor is the reason you’re here rather than at Blacklake?”
“I owe him more than one favor, but yes.”
“And your daughter? She lives with you still, at Blacklake?”
“Oh yeah.” His expression was both proud and little rueful. “I may be the commander, but she runs Blacklake. They’ve spoiled her rotten since we arrived, and she’s not beyond making full use of it if she so desires.” He paused, his smile and eyes saying all that needed to be said about the depth of his love for her. “Which, to her credit, she mostly doesn’t.”
I hesitated, but couldn’t help asking, “Has she siblings?”
He blinked, and his gaze came fully back to the present. “I would have called another earth witch to undergo the ceremony of Gaia if I was committed, Neve.”
The smile that twisted my lips held a bitter edge. “There are many, both here in the Reaches and in the outer bailey, who do not hold the sanctity of a commitment so highly.”
“And was it such a person who gave you this appalling low opinion of your own attributes?”
There was a flick of anger in his voice and it made me smile. “Perhaps.”
“Give me his name and I shall knock some sense into him.” He paused, and frowned. “Recant that. I’d rather you spend time with me than chase a past lover.”
I laughed softly. “And here I was thinking you were determined to remain celibate until after the unmasking.”
“That would be more ideal, yes, but there are two and a half days of debauchery to follow that, remember.”
“To which I’m most certainly looking forward.” I tried to swallow my yawn, but didn’t quite succeed. “Sorry, it’s not the company.”
“No, it’s an aftereffect of the ceremony. Most initiates barely make it through half a plate of food before they succumb to sleep.”
“There is too much I need to know to allow that.”
“Much of which can be said tomorrow, when Kiro comes back. For now, I’ll continue with Eluria’s story, as he already knows the details.”
Eluria, I knew, meant precious flower. It made me like him even more.
“Long before she reached maturity, it was very obvious she could hear the earth. I began teaching her control almost as soon as she could walk and talk.”
“So from the very beginning you knew I was lying.”
He nodded. “When she reached maturity and came into her full potential, it was evident she was a powerful earth witch. I consulted Kiro, who told me that, although rare, it was certainly not an unknown situation. But it was happening only to those unlit whose skin holds major staining.”
“That still doesn’t explain why we’re classified as unlit. We’re very obviously not.”
“It’s the theory of those few who have studied the phenomenon that the Irkallan blood not only breaks down the barrier to magic, but also provides some sort of immunity to it.”
I raised an eyebrow. “How can you use magic and yet be immune to it?”
“I don’t know the ins and outs of it,” he said. “I simply know its truth.”
I finished my sandwich then picked up one of the sticky sweetmeats. “What happened to the unlit unfortunate enough to be uncovered as witches?”
The smile that twisted his lips held little in the way of humor. “You already know the answer to that. It’s the reason I keep Eluria well away from Winterborne and beyond the sight of any witch.”
“You have witches at Blacklake.”
“Who have been there for decades. They wouldn’t betray us.”
“So why the subterfuge when I was there?”
“Just because I believe no-one there would betray either me or my daughter doesn’t mean they wouldn’t pass on information if they suspected you were a witch-capable unlit. The subterfuge was meant to protect you—and it was Kiro who suggested it.”
“And why would he do that? I’m nothing to him.”
“No. But you are both a soldier and a Sifft, one who has had little to do with either the Reaches or us witches. We needed an outsider, one we could trust, and who would see what we couldn’t.”
“But what happens afterward? When the puzzle is solved and we’re all returned to our normal lives? Will I find myself facing the fate you seek to keep your daughter from?”
“Whatever you think of Kiro, he’s a fair man.”
“Which is no answer.”
“No.” As I yawned again, he added, “You need to sleep. We can continue this tomorrow.”
“I’m not going anywhere—not before you fully explain why it was so necessary to perform the ceremony of Gaia. You surely couldn’t have been serious when you said I might have destroyed half of Winterborne—”
“Oh, but I was. A witch who has not performed the committal ceremony has little control over the elements that flow through them. Not only do they risk tearing themselves apart with the power they evoke, but also everything and everyone around them. Tonight, with you, it was only the floor of the bedchamber. The next time it might be the curtain wall or something even more catastrophic.”
It was a sobering thought. “Does that mean I have to undergo a similar induction for the air magic?”
“It would be best, although you seem to have far greater control over that element.”
“But won’t that jeopardize the reason I’m here if what I am becomes common knowledge?”
“It won’t. Kiro will ensure the priestess who draws you through the ceremony is of a discreet nature.”
“So the earth and the air have different demands sexually when it comes to the ceremony?”
He smiled. “The air is temperamental and changeable, so she’s naturally considered the more feminine power. The earth is stronger but slower to change, and therefore considered male.”
“And yet she’s called the earth mother, not earth father.”
He laughed. “That’s also true. Perhaps it’s more a case of the earth mother having basic needs, and therefore it’s priests rather than priestesses who are called upon.” He pushed out of the cloudsak with far more grace than I seemed capable of. “You should stretch out and sleep.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Go make sure the maidservant is paid for her silence, and get her to discreetly organize another bed. I’m not sleeping for more than a day in one of those things.”
“Soft, just like the wind said.”
He snorted, but his gaze skimmed me and the smell of desire began to taint the air. He scrubbed a hand across his chin, the sound like sandpaper in the brief silence, then gave me a sharp nod and departed. I smiled, reached for the nearest fur, and then made myself comfortable on the cloudsak.
And, rather unsurprisingly, slept.
The maidservant let him in. Trey appeared a heartbeat later, one towel wrapped around his waist while he dried his short hair with another.
“Kiro,” he said, dropping down onto the nearby hassock. “What news leaves the lips of gossips this day?”
Kiro sat in the chair opposite us both, his gaze sweeping me in a critical manner. “They’re all abuzz with the news of a liaison between the mysterious Lady N and Lady P, especially given neither appeared back at the masque.”
“Will there be any problems?” Trey asked.
“No. There are several servants in her household who’ll swear she arrived back at her own suites little more than an hour after leaving the masque. What happened after that will, of course, will be the target of much conjecture once it is discovered she’s missing.”
“And her husband? Will he cause a problem?”
“Hard to say given he hasn’t spoken to me since I did a full reading on his lady when she first reappeared a year ago.”
“Wait—what?” I glanced from Kiro to Trey and back again. “Did Pyra disappear like Saska?”
“Not just like her,” Kiro said, voice grim. “But with her. They were part of a train coming back from the West Range outpost that was attacked by the Adlin.”
The West Range lay at the end of the Blacksaw Mountains, very close to the sea. A lack of major attacks from the Adlin for over half a millennium had led to the outpost becoming something of a holiday resort. Even April, Ava, and I had gone there, though I personally wasn’t all that keen on the place—mainly because the sand had a nasty habit of getting in all the wrong places.
“But surely it was well guarded if it contained witches from Upper Reaches?” I said. “And in any event, wouldn’t the witches be more than capable of protecting themselves?”
“Apparently not, because the train was totally decimated. But the bodies of the five women—all of them powerful witches—were not recovered. They were presumed taken by the Adlin to be consumed at a later date.”
