Vision of Light [The Renegades 1]

by Amanda Hilton

  "'Twill not hurt, milady,” he said gently, and Aislan realized he was not amused at her expense. For the first time, a very faint hint of warmth sparkled in his amber yes. “You will not even feel a pinch.” Traver took her hand. At his mere touch, Aislan felt a sharp vibration, startling her. Even though his touch was cool and impersonal, he vibrated with energy.

  Squeezing her index finger lightly, Lord Traver pricked her skin. As he had promised, she did not even feel the pain. Perhaps he had distracted her with the energy exuding from him. He was a powerful sorcerer, almost as powerful as Lucien. She wondered how she could tell considering he did not use sorcery on her.

  Traver used a tiny straw to receive her blood as he squeezed her fingertip. “That does it.” He wet a small cotton with a solution and swabbed the almost nonexistent puncture in her skin.

  "What—what happens now?” Aislan asked tentatively, unable to pull her attention from the man.

  "I'll mix the potion and let it incubate in three stages. I'll administer the first dosage in a few days, then two more doses, each one every other day. This entire process will take about a sennight.” Traver stared at her thoughtfully. She wondered what he thought and found the darkness in him disconcerting, making him as puzzling as Lucien. On the surface, Lord Traver was physically attractive, although standoffish. From his mere touch, Aislan felt a menacing presence not entirely evil but did not sit well with her. She could not determine if Lord Traver's power was good or bad.

  Finally, Aislan dragged her attention from Lord Traver so she could look at her finger. Though good as new, she did not regret fussing so loudly. She looked at Lucien, who had moved away, his back to her as he looked out the window. Uncertain with his moodiness, Aislan got to her feet.

  "I—I thank you, Lord Traver,” Aislan said politely. This entire situation gave her a deep sense of disquiet. When she looked at Lord Traver, she saw only one image of a blank, gray wall. This potion was not meant for her. Had her instincts gotten unbalanced? She saw no evilness in Jaden and darkness in Traver when it should be the other way around. If she could no longer trust her own instincts, then what else could she trust? Aislan wondered what else could go wrong with her.

  Lucien turned when Aislan neared him, regarding her with an implacable expression. She wondered if her rapt attention with Lord Traver made him jealous. She gave him a small smile of assurance. Drawn to the darker side of sorcery, Aislan's interest in Lord Traver stemmed from her curiosity about his sorcery power hinting on dark magic, like hers. How could Lucien not know by now how much she adored him and no other man?

  "I cannot thank you enough, Traver,” Lucien said. “I appreciate the risk you took harboring us."

  "'Tis the least I could do. You never ask for anything, Lucien."

  "I'll check back with you later.” Lucien touched Aislan lightly on the elbow and then walked on without holding her hand. She sighed. His jealousy could become worse than Hayton's. Possessive men made her feel trapped. As they made their way back to Lilypad, Aislan quickened her steps easily to keep up with Lucien's long strides.

  "Lord Traver is a powerful sorcerer, is he not? Almost as powerful as you.” Aislan knew she only stoked the fire, but she had to know why she felt the darker side of Lord Traver's power.

  "He takes apprentices for training, if ‘tis what you are interested in. However, his specialty is alchemy, which may not be compatible with your own element, or it may complement yours very well. If you are interested in anything else,” he shrugged, “mayhap you could work out a better arrangement for you."

  Aislan wanted to slap him. “You are ridiculous.” Then she calmed down, refusing to be unreasonable herself. She knew she should say something to assure him, but she hesitated, wary of the possibility of dealing with a man's possessiveness. Hayton had killed a man who tried to seduce her and whipped those who only looked. Such a life was miserable when a man became insanely jealous and possessive.

  She had to hurry to keep up with Lucien. They went inside Lilypad.

  "If you can refrain yourself from wandering off, I'll leave you in peace."

  "Where are you going?"

  "We need to wait for the potion. Unfortunately, we cannot go out in public to while away the time. I'll be back."

  "Lucien, wait—!"

  He picked up a flask of wine, and then left without another word. She knew what it would take to bring him back. She could assure him she cared only about him, that only he came close to holding her heart, but doing so meant making a commitment that could last for ... forever.

  Left alone, Aislan did not know what to do. Used to her own company, she could sit and dream for days, but not anymore. She had changed, and now she wanted Lucien's company. After a long time sitting there, fretting, she had enough of her own company. Aislan went out.

  The flower garden stretched about her, but she remembered the intricate pattern. She traveled the paths using the pattern Lucien had walked and watched as the hedges shifted. She felt as if she walked through magic. After a while, it became a game. She took a few steps, watched the shifting of the flowers, took a few more steps, and the hedges moved. After thirty steps, she discovered the secret. It was all perception. The hedges did not move. Lord Traver's spell played tricks on the eye. When she deliberately stepped out of pattern, she faced a dead end.

  Pausing, Aislan looked about before she bent near a flower and took a tentative sniff, immediately identifying one of the fragrances from the laboratory. Quickly, she pulled back, wondering if the fragrance from the flowers also affected the sensory. She could hardly wait to tell Lucien all about her discovery.

  She returned to the pattern, and it led her to a small fountain. Aislan nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw Lucien sitting on a bench, a great, big hulk of a sulking man.

  "You sit here and drink while you left me be?” she asked incredulously.

  He did not even look surprised that she found him. She went and sat next to him, seeing the misery in his eyes, and for the first time, sensing the turmoil churning inside him. Aislan wondered if she had simplified matters by thinking his jealousy drove him to drink.

  She knew him almost enough now to recognize that he was not driven by any one reason. Focused much on herself, Aislan had looked at everything that only pertained to her situation. Lucien had to deal with his own life now. He was rational and reasonable, so whatever controlled his sporadic behavior had to be deeply seated, probably with his family. Being here tormented him, apparently. Who else better than Aislan knew what being with family would entail? She could barely abide her own when they came to visit, fawning in avarice over the splendorous Templeton Castle, never caring about her own suffering that gave them their luxurious lives.

  Aislan touched Lucien's arm reassuringly. He stiffened and shifted to move away from her. Furious at his constant rejection of her, she grabbed the flask from him and took a swish, choking slightly. He snatched the wine from her.

  "What the hell are you doing?"

  "I might as well turn into a sot like you. Either that, or go mad dealing with your inconstancy.” She reached for the flask, but he held it out of her reach.

  They stared at each other mutinously. If he could be as stubborn as a mule, so could she. She would sit here all day with him. Calming down, Aislan studied his shuttered expression, and she wanted to understand him.

  Starting with what seemed to be the most obvious, she said softly, “You need not be jealous of Lord Traver."

  Lucien gave her an amused look. “You think it has to do with jealousy?” He shook his head and turned his attention to the flask he held. “If saving you were as simple as giving you up to another man, I would consider it. Unfortunately for you, another man will not solve your problem."

  "What did you just say?” Aislan was not certain she heard right.

  "I am a wretch,” he said. At least he got that correct. “Come, I owe you reading lessons."

  He owed her no such thing, but Aislan's heart skipped se
veral beats. She could not stay angry at his slap-worthy declaration. She had wanted to read for so long, her excitement gained the upper hand.

  He gave her a disgruntled look and stood up. “Come along,” he said almost curtly.

  Now, what got into him? By God, he made the offer on his own! Why should she not be happy that he wanted to teach her how to read? They went back to Lilypad. Once inside, Lucien put the wine on the table, then picked up her bag of books and poured the contents onto the table.

  She sat on the chair, and Lucien pulled another chair next to her. Aislan wanted to reach over and touch him to assure him of—of what? She did not want to think too hard about her own conflicting feelings, not now anyhow.

  Lucien opened the Laws and Politics book and read, his long finger sliding along under each word. “This indicates a new paragraph.” He pointed to the next break and continued reading. The book introduced the three powerful governing bodies: the Royal Court, the Church, and the Sorcery Circle, with the latter two in constant conflicts. Once Lucien finished a page, he opened the blank book, took out a scriber, and turned away from her slightly.

  "I read again. You write what you recall.” He started reading, a little slower than before, and Aislan scribbled the letters slowly. As they progressed through a few lines, his speed picked up, and she quickened her pace. He stopped reading altogether.

  "Go ahead, finish writing, and read it aloud as you go,” he said quietly.

  Aislan wrote the pattern as she remembered. She read as she wrote, pronouncing each syllable. She stopped when she got to the last word he had read. He flipped randomly to the middle of the book and placed it in front of her.

  "Look at this page.” He tapped the left side and gave her a few heartbeats of time. “And this page.” He tapped the right side, paused for a few more heartbeats, and then closed the book. “Write what you remember from the bottom half on the left."

  Eagerly, she scribbled, writing quickly without reading because she did not recognize most of the words to pronounce them. When she finished, she looked at him in eager expectation, wanting his approval.

  "Excellent. Now, copy the table from the bottom right.” He did not bother to show her the page.

  She obeyed, drawing the box and the grids and filling in the characters and numbers without a moment's hesitation as she recalled from the glance given the page.

  "Wonderful.” As if unable to help himself, he took her writing hand and pressed the back of it against his cheek. “You are incredible, simply incredible. I have never seen such a memory. ‘Tis you, all you. You can now acquire any knowledge you want."

  She grinned, basking in his admiration, and he smiled back at her.

  "Now, you need to recognize the sounds that go with the vowels and the consonant combinations. This gives you the ability to read any word you see."

  He taught her to read, noting the variations as she read the book page by page, correcting her, testing her frequently. Most of what she had read so far had to do with the structure of the Royal Court. Lucien would stop to explain and clarify a few of the passages, mainly royal roles. Aislan had several questions, but Lucien would not digress. She imagined the explanation would come later in the book in detail.

  A maid came with a basket of bread and cheese. They ate while they continued working and kept at it the rest of the day. Supper arrived, and they took the time out to eat before they returned to reading. Lucien briefly mentioned that King Julian and Queen Leah had three sons and one daughter. Aislan noted in passing Lucien referred to the Crown Prince as Prince Jules once and simply Jules after that. He remained more formal when talking about the other royal family members, consistently referring to them as Prince Wade, Prince Jasper, and Princess Charlotte.

  Halfway into the book, they read about the all-powerful king and the Court system. It turned out that, though the king had the final word, the four Royal Advisors actually made the royal decisions. As Lucien hinted, the Advisors immediately tempered any impetuous or arbitrary decisions made by the king. Also equally powerful were the Lords of the Realms. These four sorcerers protected the king for life, usually successful in preventing assassination attempts because of their superior sorcery powers. They stood only one step below the supreme Sorsverein. Aislan recalled Lucien mentioning him and three others being tasked to find the sorceress Narisse.

  "You are a contender to become one of the four new Lords of the Realms to protect the Crown Prince once he becomes king!” She gaped at him.

  "Not anymore.” He shrugged.

  "Lucien—"

  "Not now, Aislan.” Lucien tapped the page to prompt her to return to her assignment. As she had been doing, Aislan glanced at the page, and then began to write, reading as she went based on how Lucien had taught her to pronounce the letter combinations.

  Aislan recalled the few passages she had read about the Four Lords. Based on her interpretation of these roles, the four sorcerers were not only powerful but also own innumerable castles, villages, and towns, rewarded generously by the king. They stayed with the king three-quarters of the time out of the year. They rotated every quarter to return to their primary home. What kind of a life would that be for these four Lords who owned vast properties but never lived there, whose families had to go without them most of the time unless they chose to live at the king's palace? Fortunately, Lucien was no longer a contender for the role, for Aislan could not imagine being without him all that time—

  Heaven forbid, what could she be thinking? Her train of thoughts did not even have any rationale connecting them because she would likely get her head cut off if she ventured anywhere near the Court.

  Lucien placed his hand over hers while she was in mid-writing.

  "You have achieved what has to be almost impossible.” He squeezed her hand slightly. “You can read and write from memory while your mind is obviously elsewhere."

  "Oh, I am sorry."

  "Why should you be? I have never seen anything like this.” He caressed her cheek. “You are brilliant. I am very proud of you."

  "Are you?” Aislan smiled.

  "You can read anything now on your own.” He closed the book. “You must be tired."

  "No.” Aislan shook her head.

  "I could teach you arithmetic tomorrow."

  "Oh, would you!"

  His smiled affectionately. “No doubt by midday, you will divide and multiply a string of fractions off the top of your head."

  She would like to find out what he meant right now, but he shook his head. “You must be very tired. Time for bed."

  Aislan did not want to sleep, but she could not expect him to spend every moment teaching her. She went to the bed and lay down. Seeing how he watched her, she smiled expectedly, wanting his kisses and all the wonderful things he could do to her body.

  "Lucien, darling.” She wanted him so much.

  "I need to see Traver,” he said and left.

  Chapter 20

  A New Leaf

  The green liquid in the flask bubbled and turned black. “'Twill be a challenge to convince Aislan to drink that,” Lucien said.

  Traver laughed. “'Tis not for Lady Aislan."

  "I am thankful."

  "You cannot be too choosey at the moment, cousin."

  Lucien sobered quickly. “Yes, I know too well.” He debated the matter for a short moment. If he had to trust someone, then he would consider Traver the most trustworthy of all. “Mayhap you should give Aislan's solution to me,” he said carefully. “We shall take our leave quickly."

  "The potion needs to be tested first, and then administered by me.” Traver frowned. “As for your staying here, I thought we settled the matter."

  "I only put you at risk with my presence."

  Traver shrugged. “No one else knows you are here."

  "I fear that may not be the case."

  "You cannot administer the potion yourself,” Traver said firmly. “Otherwise, I would have bottled and sold it to the general populace."


  Lucien drummed his fingers on his thigh, finally deciding to give Traver the benefit of a doubt.

  "The Fulfillment knows I am here.” He watched Traver carefully and saw the slight flicker in his expression before he veiled it.

  "Why are you involved with the Fulfillment?” Traver gave Lucien a somewhat cold look. “Did you allow yourself to be recruited by them?"

  "I assumed you may be with them.” That was a possibility.

  Traver's expression gave way to surprise. “They tried, but I refused. Did you?"

  Lucien shrugged. “I went to them in search of information."

  "God forbid!” Traver muttered.

  "I have endangered you by coming here."

  "How did they know you are here?"

  Lucien hesitated. “They delivered my answer."

  Traver's face paled slightly.

  "Aislan and I'll leave quickly, and no one will be the wiser."

  "No, Lady Aislan needs to take the potion.” Traver looked resolute. “One of my guests must be with the Fulfillment. I'll weed him out."

  Lucien hesitated again. There was no reason to mention his doubt about Jaden. How could he accuse both his hosts of involvement with the most notorious clandestine organization that could become a threat to the Crown? Lucien was the most culpable because he sought the Fulfillment and was responsible for this fiasco.

  "Stay at Calvan,” Traver offered.

  "Calvan?"

  "I'll take you there. After Lady Aislan transforms, you can move around publicly. What do you plan to do after that?"

  Lucien extracted the missive and handed it to Traver, who read it with a slight frown.

  "What is this?"

  "Temple was Lady Aislan's husband."

  "I see."

  "The decollator took his head, presumably back to King Julian. Even if the Sorsverein combined his power with the four Lords of the Realms, I doubt if they could reconnect Temple's head and resurrect him from the dead."