by Inez Kelley
King Taric’s mouth opened but he shut it hard, thinned his lips and nodded.
Warric thrust from the chair. His boots smacked against the stairs as he barreled to his chambers. If he stayed here, he would remove himself as an assassination suspect. But if he stayed, he’d black out again and his magic would run free. He might succeed in becoming the assassin he feared. If he left, he could control the surges, learn to direct them and remove the threat. But he’d be viewed as running away in guilt. It was a two-edged sword.
It was no choice at all.
There was no time to light a fire. He’d be gone before it erased the chill anyway. He dug a travel bag out of the wardrobe and hastily shoved clothing inside. Ripping off the damp borrowed shirt, Warric shivered until he found his warmest breeches and tunic. He dressed quickly, shoving the jeweled dagger in his boot. He never carried any weapons, had no need to, but he wanted this one close for some reason.
Pushing boxes aside haphazardly, he pawed through his Endicort things, salvaging several purses with herbs, a pestle and mortar, and three slim volumes on spellcraft. The History of Magic still lay in the center of his bed. He tucked that in his bag as well.
“Are you going away, too?”
The small voice jerked his head over his shoulder. Jana’s youngest sister, Solian, peeked in his door. He must not have closed it completely in his haste. The stupid mistake slammed into him. He couldn’t afford such forgetfulness.
He forced a smile to his mouth. “Hey, sunshine. What are you doing here? Isn’t it your lesson time?”
Solian curled her lip. “I don’t feel like doing arithmetic now. Can I hide in here?”
He chuckled, a genuine laugh that lifted his spirits. “Sure. Close the door though. Old Mistress Huba isn’t going to rap my knuckles again. I had enough of that long ago.”
She climbed onto his bed, propped her chin in her hand and looked into his duffel. “Batu, Feena and Jana are all gone. All the grown-ups are tense. The doors are locked and guards are all over, one even stands in the schoolroom. Now you’re leaving. Nobody tells me anything but something bad is happening, isn’t it?”
Warric crouched before her. “Yeah, it is. But you just listen and nothing bad will happen to you.”
“Where are you going?” She fidgeted with her braids, her face pinched with worry. “Is Papa sending you somewhere? He said I’m to stay in our suite. It’s boring there.”
The only place the High Captain would send him was to the cells. “I’ve got something that might make your captivity more fun. Want to see it?”
Childish excitement enlivened her face. It took him a few minutes’ worth of digging but he found the storybook he’d planned to give her for her birthday buried under a stack of herbal texts. “A fellow I know works his magic through ink. He can’t utter a spell to make a cat sneeze but he can do this.”
He opened the binding and her mouth dropped open. The fantasy pictures moved on the page. The unicorn galloped through a garden, the dragon blew smoke that wafted from the parchment, and the lovely young ladies smiled, batting eyelashes drawn overly long.
“Oh, I love it!”
God, he loved this child. She’d been like a living doll to him from the moment she was born. Everyone knew her birth had been an accident but Salome called her a gift. Warric silently agreed.
Fear rushed in and stole his joy. If he failed, she would be hurt, would lose the innocent wonder in her eyes. For one moment, she was all of Eldwyn, and her survival rested on his shoulders. A silent vow thickened his tongue. He would not fail her.
He fixed his gaze on the hearth and flames burst in the kindling. “That should keep you warm. You can hide in here all you want. Just don’t tell anyone you saw me leave.”
Solian frowned. “Where are you going?”
He started to lie. But she looked at him, all purity and sweetness in big gray eyes, and his heart twinged. He wanted to shout from the rooftop that he’d found his love. He wanted to show Kya off, lead her on his arm with pride, but he couldn’t. Hiding that love from his father had been torture but he wanted someone to know, to be happy for him. He couldn’t risk telling anyone with authority. Solian had none but she could understand.
“I’ll tell you a secret if you promise to keep it.”
She spit in her hand and held it out to him. He’d taught her that when she was three. Her mother had nearly singed his ears for that move. Spitting a small spot in his palm, he grabbed her little hand and squeezed. Their shared secrets were safe. He leaned close with a whisper. “I found my heartmate.”
Glee squealed from her before she remembered the secrecy, then she bit her lips and clapped her hands. “Really? Will you marry her? Can I be the wheat bearer? I had a new blue gown for Feena’s wedding but I don’t know if she’ll have another now.”
“I will marry her.” He prayed he got the chance. “And yes, you can carry the wheat.”
“What’s her name?”
“Kya.”
“Oh, that’s pretty. Is she pretty?”
“Beautiful. Her hair is dark brown, very dark, like black oak. Her eyes are dark, too. I’m going to go stay with her for a little while.”
Solian looked at him with a half-hidden smile. “You’re supposed to wait until after the wedding to stay with your lady.”
“You sound more like your father every day.” He grunted and tugged her braid. “I better go. Wish me luck hiding from the guards. Be good, sunshine.”
He smacked a short, loud kiss to her forehead then slung his pack over his shoulder. The soft catch of his door closing sounded like a death knell. Something foreboding slithered along his spine and he wondered if it were the last time he’d ever see that room or Solian again.
The sight of a scabbarded sword hanging on a guard’s hip outside the hall stopped him. The private wing was under watch. He was under watch. There was no way he could simply walk out. Without a moment’s hesitation, he slipped into an empty room.
The unoccupied space had pink walls with tiny painted roses. Maybe at some time a female royal family member had claimed it but it had never been used in his lifetime except as an escape hatch. More than once, he and his brother had used the southern-facing window to slip out unnoticed. No one shimmied down faster than Batu, even if he was carrying a jar full of salamanders to torment the schoolgirls, but Warric managed just fine.
Brisk wind pelted his face as he tottered along the outside lip of the upper story. A quick slide down a sloped roof landed him on his ass above the maids’ quarters. Some industrious, or no doubt amorous, soul had notched handholds in the stone walls long ago. The worn rock facing bit into his hands climbing down but, once on the armory roof, he was within leaping distance to the ground. His ankles protested the landing but he sprinted toward the postern gate...which was surrounded by guards.
Warric could toss them each a fireball and run while they burned but he didn’t want to hurt anyone else. A dark whisper sounded in his ear that he could slip into their minds, make them forget seeing him, but he shook it away. To use that channeling power led to insanity in the victim and might hasten his own. He would never use that, never give in to that evil in his blood.
Still, he was leaving. He was going to Kya and no one was standing in his way. He lurked in the shadows until they all went on rounds, all but one. The young guard stood vigilant for a long half hour then started bouncing his leg and looking around. Seeing no one to take his place, he gave in to nature’s call, walked a few paces to a bush and lifted his tunic. As the guard exhaled in relief, Warric ducked through the cracked-open gate.
Once it locked tight, he let loose his held breath. His sneaking out wouldn’t go unnoticed for long. He tightened his hold on his pack and set out. Eight miles was a long walk in the cold but Kya waited at the end. It was enough to put a bounce in his step.
He was frozen to the core by the time her cottage came into view. Wispy smoke curled from the chimney and a golden, welcoming glow shone through t
he windows. Heat stung his face when he stepped into the room. Kya spun from the washtub with a gasp.
“Warric! Where have you been? I was worried sick about you.” She dried her hands on her apron then cupped his cheeks. “You’re going to catch your death out in this cold. The miller swears a storm is coming, says his knees ache as a warning.”
“Hold me.” Dropping his pack, he pulled her close, burying his face in her neck. “Hold me tight.”
She did, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing. Slowly, his body stopped shaking from the chill, and his skin lost the burn of frosty air. The constant throb in his head eased. Kya never let go.
“I’m sorry about last night. I blacked out in the west field. But I figured things out.”
He dropped his mantle on the floor and brought the history book out of his bag. Taking her hands, he led her to the table, sat her down and told her everything. She asked few questions but he explained what he thought she might not understand. It wasn’t common knowledge. Channelers were so rare, Emerto Marchen was the only name he knew offhand, but there were others listed, ones known for evil deeds who died long ago.
One full lip turned white as she nibbled it. “What exactly is channeling?”
“Channeling is...greedy, gluttonous, nearly uncontrollable power. It’s mostly destructive and has always led to madness.”
“Wait.” Kya skimmed a passage, her lip tucked between her teeth. “The evil you feel, you speak as if it’s another person. Is it someone trying to control you through magic?”
Shame burned on his cheeks. “No. It’s all me. It’s every wicked, bad thought I’ve ever had made stronger and darker. It takes a simple thought and twists it, magnifies it until it strays from anything I’d normally want. I don’t want to be king, I never have. But sometimes, I get...jealous. Papa and Batu are so close, so much alike. Sometimes I wish I had that relationship with him.”
“You’re very close to your mother.”
“I know it’s petty, but I can’t stop those thoughts. But I’d never want Batu to die. The channeling takes that seed of jealousy—which I think is normal in any family—and turns it into something ugly. I always thought I was a decent man, maybe not sinless but not terrible. I guess I was wrong.”
She snorted. “Please, every man has wickedness in them. It’s part of human nature. Most only need to get drunk for it to come out. You’re no more inherently evil than I am. It’s the goodness in you that keeps the channeling under control. It’s the goodness I fell in love with.”
Stroking one finger along her cheek, he gazed deep into her eyes. “I want to show you something.” He flipped the pages until he came to a passage and showed it to her. “Look, the first channeler recorded wasn’t evil until he got very old and started losing his memory. He controlled the surges and used his magic in constructive ways. I can do that with your help. You keep me balanced, Kya. May I stay with you until I learn how to control this thing inside me before it controls me?”
The book smacked shut with a loud clap. “Why do you even ask? Of course.” She laced her fingers with his. “I’ll change my name to Shadow and stick to you like wool to a sheep. You can do this, my love. I know you can.”
Her love. He dropped his mouth to her hand. “I’ll change your name to Segur if you let me.”
“I will,” she breathed. “I met your father today. He seemed very nice.”
“He can be. He called you beautiful, which only proves his eyes work well. My father liked you.”
She blinked several times and her cheeks pinkened. “Yes, well, had I known I’d be called before the king, I might have taken my apron off.”
* * *
Human sleep weighted his body, a deep blankness filling his mind. Darach breathed in the scent of Jana nestled beside him. He dipped his head, luxuriating in the sleepy fragrance of her skin. He mulled foreign words around his mind, tasting them on his tongue before bending to her ear and giving them life.
“I love you, nayeli.”
She snuggled deeper into sleep, deeper into his arms. The journey, the steamy warmth of the sauna and their loving had sapped every bit of her strength, and he’d nearly had to carry her to the bed. But her hands had clung to his, begging him to stay, and he had, sliding between the sheets and cradling her through the cold night.
Although the shutters were tight, he could tell that dawn had not yet crested but his mind was fully awake. He needed answers and looked to Jana, but the shadows beneath her eyes held his tongue. Sliding from the thick mattress, he tugged on his clothes before misting. The wall between the rooms was cold and thick but was no barrier to his natural form.
The Crowned Prince wore only loose breeches and a haggard look. Sitting in a plush chair, he sipped whiskey and stared out the frost-covered glass.
“Why aren’t you sleeping?”
Batu jumped, spilling the drink down his bare chest. “Damn it, Darach, you scared the shit out of me.” Darach looked at his seat and Batu shook his head. “Not literally, you lughead. Just don’t pop up behind me anymore, all right? I’ve got too much on my mind to sleep right now.”
The whiskey glass made a hollow clunk on the table. Batu ran his fingers through his hair then shrugged, bringing a wince of pain. He motioned to a matching chair by the fire and Darach sat, enjoying the soft cradle of overplump cushions.
“I don’t know where my wife is, and I can’t know or she’ll be in more danger. In order for the monarchy to survive, we have to be kept apart. I might not even be able to see my own child born. Sometimes I wonder if the crown is worth all that. Maybe I’d make a better farmer than a king.”
“You’d give up your birthright?”
“If it meant keeping those I love safe? In less than a heartbeat.”
Darach nodded. “I, too, would give up my birthright. I want to.”
For one tense moment, the prince didn’t move. “What do you mean?”
“I want to stay here, in this realm, with Jana.” Drawing a deep breath, he exhaled with a soft chuckle. “I love her, Batu. I can’t leave her.”
A wide grin erupted on Batu’s face. “You’re going to stay? Become human?”
“Yes. For Jana.”
A small part of him cringed at all he was losing. A momentary wave of terror swept through him at never again seeing his home. He blinked, realizing that if he stayed, he would then one day die. Even that didn’t deter him. Human death meant the other side of life and eternity with Jana. It seemed more than a fair exchange.
Batu produced another small glass and poured them both a drink. “A toast, to Darach and Jana. May your love be forever magical.”
Darach touched his glass to Batu’s then sipped, letting the burn slide down his throat. “Exactly how did your mother and Jana’s stepmother become human?”
The prince’s shoulders tensed. “Mama could tell you better. I only know the stories.”
“Your mother’s not here.”
A quirk lowered one of the prince’s eyebrows. “Well then, let me think a minute. I know someone close has to be near death.”
“Death?”
“Yes. My grandfather traded places with my mother, Queen Myla, when she died. Salome had been shot with an arrow and almost died.” Batu threw up his hand in futility. “Long stories made shorter, basically when death was very close, they chose to live their lives as human, to give up their shifting ability and their home world. I know there’re more nuances that I’m forgetting or have never heard, but that’s all I can recall. I’m sorry I can’t tell you more.”
The whiskey was smooth. A subtle smokiness flavored the drink and lingered on his tongue. Death didn’t frighten him. But the idea that Jana might have to be so perilously close to it sent nausea through him. He kept his gaze on the amber liquid.
“Batu, when it comes time, I’d like you to do this to me.”
“Do what?” Understanding tightened his fists. “You want me to...kill you?”
“To get me as close to deat
h as possible, yes. I can’t stomach the thought of Jana...”
Perception lifted the prince’s chin. “I’d die for my woman, too. All right. When you’re ready, I’ll do it.” A troubled look thinned his lips. “Damn, it feels strange to agree to kill a man I like...and to his face.”
They drank in companionable silence, watching snow fall like white lace against the black night. The first sparks of dawn leaped over the sharp mountains in a shower of gold, pink and orange. A tickling began at the back of his neck, not a sense of danger but of someone watching him. He turned but Batu shifted his face, staring out the window, a curiously smug look smoothing his features. The more Darach stared, the more Batu’s lip twitched.
“What’s amusing you?”
A forced cough hid a short bark of laughter and Batu seemed to find the wall opposite him fascinating. “Earlier tonight, the earth quaked.”
Heat exploded on Darach’s face. He studied the opposite wall. “So it did.”
A not-so-well-hidden snicker was choked down behind a rough throat-clearing. “I assume it wasn’t because you lost your temper again.”
“Batu...shut up.”
Laughter rang uninhibited, bouncing off the shadowed walls. “Come on, I have to give you a hard time about it. It’s what friends do when women aren’t around.”
A thin sap line ran the length of the wood plank at Darach’s feet. It held his attention as he sorted through his emotions. Friendship. It was important to humans, nearly as important as family.
Jana’s love had shaped him, taken a raw lump of clay and baked it into a new creation. He looked up and realized more had shaped him. Batu had been a sort of guide to him, showing him the ways of human men and explaining when he didn’t understand. They’d shared time and words, fought side by side, had a natural harmony that made them well suited together. Perhaps that was what a friend was, an echo to your soul, separate but in perfect accord.
“I’m glad to have you as a friend.” He stuck his hand out, as he’d seen several men do.
Batu took it with strength. “You’re a worthy friend to have, as well.”
