The Sunset Lands Beyond (The Complete Series, Books 1-3): An epic portal fantasy boxed set

by Sarah Ashwood

  Honestly! These people could make a nun cuss like a sailor.

  “Both the High-Chief and myself attempted to speak, to reason with you, my friend. You, however, were too lost in your own misery to pay heed.”

  What she said hit me like a boxer’s fist. I went absolutely still, absorbing the shock.

  Too lost in your own misery to pay heed…

  Gradually, I began to understand. The more I contemplated it, the clearer it became. Aureeyah was right; I had been lost in deep darkness ever since the attack by Jonase. Oddly, it hadn’t helped to wake up and find that the Simathe High-Chief had broken his promise to stay with me that night. Strangely, I had shadowy memories of ghastly nightmares and strong arms comforting me, but waking in an empty room had forced me to face facts. Those memories could only be dreams, for aside from a single follow-up visit in which he’d said little and I nothing at all, I hadn’t even seen the man until today. From his aloofness, it was hard to believe he was the same man who’d wiped away my tears and wrapped me in his own cloak to hide my torn gown. The night he’d done all that, the night he’d rescued me from Jonase—the night I’d kissed him, for goodness’ sake!—I thought I’d felt a tentative trust springing up between us. However, on my part, it’d been put to the test far too soon. He’d lied to me, breaking my faith, and I was back to disliking him as much as ever. Especially after today’s sorry performance.

  Well…almost, anyway.

  An annoying little voice in the back of my mind insisted that maybe I hadn’t minded today’s stolen kiss nearly as much I wished I had. Stubborn to the bitter end, I shoved it away, squashing it down deep where I wouldn’t have to listen to its foolishness.

  “I guess you’re right,” I finally admitted, returning to the present. “Maybe you and Ilgard did sort of try to talk to me, but I was so miserable I couldn’t hear what you were trying to say.”

  My friend nodded, encouraging me to continue.

  “So that’s what all this was about today? You two were in cahoots, trying to snap me out of it?”

  The syntax may’ve been unfamiliar, but my meaning was clear. “It would seem we have met with success. Or rather, the High-Chief has,” she grinned impishly.

  “Yeah, well, he could make anyone mad enough to spit nails,” I grumbled.

  Aureeyah laughed, but at my ferocious scowl, she smothered her amusement with a hand.

  “It’s not funny!” I protested. “He was really mean to me.”

  She lowered her hand, fighting to stifle a puckish grin. “Aye, I am sure he was harsh.”

  “Harsh, nothing! He was downright cruel. An absolute—”

  “Jerk,” she finished smoothly.

  I tried to steel myself against her infectious humor, but it proved too much. She was right. In a sick sort of way, the situation was funny. Before I knew it, I was laughing hysterically, releasing all of the depression, pain, and anger, letting humor temporarily fill the void in my soul.

  When the merriment finally subsided, I rolled over onto my side and faced my new friend, supporting myself with an elbow. Tracing my fingertips over the weave of the blanket, I asked casually, “Do you think the Simathe are handsome?”

  She was clearly taken aback. “Why would you ask such a thing?”

  “Oh, I dunno. Just curious, I guess.”

  She tilted her head. “Do you find them so?”

  “Uh-uh. I asked you first.”

  “Which Simathe, in particular, did you mean?”

  “I didn’t mean any of them in particular. I meant all of them in general, or any of them in particular. I’m asking your opinion of their looks.”

  “You are from Earth, and you do not find their appearance…strange? I cannot think of a woman in Aerisia who would agree with you.”

  “I didn’t say their looks weren’t strange,” I said, sitting up. “They are, but—oh man, I must be going crazy. But they’re strangely attractive too. Or maybe they’re strangely attractive in spite of it. Who knows? I don’t know what I mean.

  “Hey, how’d we get to talking about what I think of all this when I was asking you what you thought?”

  “You haven’t the knack for keeping your opinions private,” she smirked. “If you’ll pardon my saying so, I think it gets you into trouble.”

  “Gets me into trouble, huh? Ha-ha. There’re worse things than being honest.”

  “And there are better things than revealing all you think.”

  “Whatever. Okay, so out with it, then—do you think the Simathe are handsome? Or do fairies even think human men are attractive? Or are there male fairies, and that’s all you notice?”

  Maybe I wasn’t very good at nondisclosure, and maybe my train of thought was pretty rambling. She definitely caught the last part, though, because a shadow fell across her delicate features.

  “No,” she replied, sort of sadly and wistfully. “There are no male fairies. Not in Aerisia. Not anymore.”

  That was a curious answer, but her demeanor warned me not to push. Switching subjects, I said, “You still haven’t answered my original question.”

  “What?” She shook herself, like somebody lost in thought coming back to reality. “Oh, yes. Well, as for that, were I a mortal woman, I should be inclined to look with favor upon the Ranetron High-Chief.”

  “Lord Garett? You think he’s hot?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Hot? That is an odd expression, and sounds rather improper.”

  “Being improper is all part of my charm,” I snickered.

  Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. “Let not Council hear you say so. That sort of charm our Artan can do without.”

  Before I could protest, she asked mischievously, “Do you find the High-Chief comely?”

  “Who, Garett or Ilgard?”

  “Either. Both.”

  I shrugged carelessly. “Yeah, I guess I do. Don’t get me wrong, Garett’s a good-looking guy, but—call me crazy—I actually think Ilgard has him beat…is better,” I amended quickly, catching her subtle confusion.

  “Ah. I thought as much.”

  I frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean, ‘Ah, I thought as much’?”

  Aureeyah slid gracefully off the bed. “I believe you care for the High-Chief more than you realize.”

  Her observation hit a little too close to home.

  It’s all fun and games until somebody stumbles onto your most embarrassing secret, chided the little voice, popping up from the dark corner where I’d banished it.

  “Furthermore,” I came back to myself in time to hear her say, “I believe you will come to know this in time.”

  All right, it was time to take action. I snatched up a pillow from the stack at the headboard and chucked it at her.

  “Hah! You wish. That’s never going to happen.”

  She caught the pillow nimbly. “Mark my words,” she warned cheerfully and tossed the pillow back.

  I threw up a hand to block it. Suddenly, there was a small, brief-but-brilliant flash. Blue lightning filled the entire room, exploding the poor pillow midair into a mass of singed feathers and bits of green fabric. In the aftermath, downy fluff drifted lazily toward the floor while the fairy and I gaped at one another in unspoken astonishment.

  The Artan After All?

  “What was that?” I gasped.

  “Hannah!” The fairy rushed to my side. “Your necklace—let me see it!”

  Trembling with alarm, I reached into my bodice and extracted the necklace given to me by Lord Elgrend, the Aerisian High Elder. The stone was warm: a strange, internal warmth, not derived from my body heat. Its color had also shifted from pink to dark purple.

  The fairy reverently stretched out a finger but stopped shy of actually touching the stone. “Hannah, the Artan…” she breathed. “No doubts remain. You are she!”

  She sank to her knees before me, bowing her head in reverence.

  Panicking, I rose to my own knees on the bed. “Aureeyah, what in the world are you doing? Get
up!”

  At this juncture, my bedroom door swung open. The Simathe High-Chief stood framed in the doorway. He absorbed the scene with a glance. “Something has occurred.”

  “High-Chief, come,” directed the fairy, and he did, offering a hand to lift her to her feet.

  To me, Aureeyah said, “My lady, may we inspect the stone?”

  I frowned at the use of the title. She usually called me by my name—a welcome habit, reminding me that to some people I could simply be myself, Hannah. Now, one strange twist of fate had altered our friendship. Forever?

  I raised the necklace, lifting the stone for the Simathe to see. He studied it, his deep eyes absorbing the light, before extending a forefinger to touch it lightly. “Warm,” he muttered, his black eyes capturing mine. As always, nothing in his expression or pupilless eyes betrayed his thoughts.

  “Why did you come?” I asked quietly.

  “I…felt something,” he responded carefully. “Something curious that bid me come straightway.”

  “Can you elaborate, my lord?” Aureeyah interjected. “Explain what you felt?”

  He shifted his focus to her. “An outburst of power, perhaps? Like energy unleashed.”

  “What? You mean to say I did that to the pillow? And he felt it?”

  Aureeyah nodded soberly. “So it would seem, my lady.”

  I couldn’t disguise my shock. “But that can’t be! I’ve never done anything like this before. I can’t! I don’t have any magical…powers…”

  The sentence trailed off as I felt a sickening lurch in my belly. Was it possible that they’d been right all along? That it was I who had done this? That somewhere, deep within my being, magic lay dormant?

  Am I their Artan?

  Remembrance struck—a memory flash of a gigantic, grinning skull. Of blazing luminescence, of blue light springing from my hands. It blanked out, vanishing as quickly as it’d come. I wasn’t aware of sitting there, my eyes squeezed shut in concentration, until I felt a feather-light touch on the top of my head.

  “Lady Hannah? Are you well?”

  Aureeyah. I opened my eyes, surprised to find tears blurring my vision.

  “I was wrong. There was something else,” I admitted fearfully. “Something I think I did before, on the way to Treygon. When we were attacked during the storm. But I can’t—I can’t seem to recall it now.”

  “High-Chief?”

  The fairy directed herself to the warrior who, in turn, shifted a step closer.

  “She speaks truth. We did not witness it, however.”

  “It is possible even now for the High-Chief to see what happened, my lady,” Aureeyah informed me gently. “In light of this unusual event, giving him permission to proceed is, perhaps, imperative.”

  Flicking a nervous glance from one Aerisian to the other, I used the heel of my hand to wipe moisture from my eyes. “What does that mean?”

  “I mean, thanks to your Joining bond, it is possible for the High-Chief to journey within your mind’s eye and discover what you’ve forgotten.”

  “Journey…look inside my mind? You can do that?” I asked him.

  “I can.”

  He was composed as ever and seemed impervious to my confusion, apprehension, and even embarrassment. I knew he wasn’t, though, since he felt all I felt. How could he do that and still preserve that immaculate poise? The man was unfathomable.

  Before Jonase, before my life being put in jeopardy, I would’ve fought the idea of such a personal intrusion tooth and nail. Especially by him. Now? I’d seen the flash, the pillow exploding. Unlikely as it seemed, I’d caused both. Tickling the back of my mind, a repressed memory promised I’d know more if I freed it. An impossible task without the warrior’s help. Was I willing to allow it? I knew finding out might change me and my future irrevocably. Once before I’d vowed to become the Artan if it meant taking charge of my own life and destiny. This appeared to be a necessary first step; did I have the courage to take it?

  I could find no other alternative. “All right,” I agreed, after taking a slow, deep breath. “I guess there’s nothing else to do. He can try.”

  For a moment, everybody was quiet. Maybe they were surprised I’d agreed so easily. What could I say? I’d surprised myself by that one.

  “So how do we go about it?” I finally asked.

  “We must have perfect silence,” answered the High-Chief.

  Aureeyah took the hint. “Then I will take my leave. Pray, excuse me—my lord, my lady.”

  Bowing to each of us in turn, she left the room. It was with regret that I watched her go. I wasn’t quite ready to be alone with the Simathe High-Chief. Not after our argument and all the turmoil today. Not after that kiss…

  Without being invited, he took a seat next to me on the bed. I shrank back, an automatic reflex. He, however, caught my shoulders and held me in place, bending to peer intently into my eyes.

  “Has my lady faith in me?”

  I winced. That was Ilgard. He was nothing if not direct. A little too direct.

  “I…trust you,” I replied cautiously.

  He leaned even closer, those consuming, obsidian eyes so compelling I wanted to flee. How could I flee, though, with him right there, his hands holding me still?

  “Nay, does my lady truly trust me? If I’m to do this, there must be stronger ties between us than a mere Joining. There are mental strongholds I cannot breach unless you’ve faith in me as a warrior. As your guardian. Your friend.”

  The last condition, added almost as an afterthought, made me squirm.“Ilgard…” Lowering my gaze, I plucked fretfully at a loose thread on the blanket. “I—I trust you. Sometimes, for some things. But you have to admit”—I left off messing with the thread to clench my hands in my lap—“we haven’t ever had exactly the best of relationships. It’s hard for me to say we’re really friends. You can’t blame me for not trusting you like I would my father or my best friend or even someone like Aureeyah.”

  “I sympathize, my lady. Yet know that since we first met I’ve neither drawn breath nor taken action against your welfare.”

  “Yeah, well, forgive me if I find that a little hard to swallow.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What do I mean? I mean like how it was for my welfare that you broke your promise to stay with me that night?”

  The question was out before I could stop it. He held his peace—mulling it over, I supposed—while I stared at my hands, chastising myself bitterly.

  Stupid, Hannah, stupid! Why did you say that? You didn’t want him to know you cared!

  No, I hadn’t wanted him to know, just as I hadn’t wanted to care. But I did care, all the same.

  When he finally spoke, there was a strange note of gentleness in his tone, one I’d never heard before.

  “You are mistaken, my lady. I was in your chamber until full break of day.”

  What?

  I dared to raise my face. “You mean you were there all night?”

  “I was.”

  Flummoxed, I didn’t know where to look or what to think.

  “You do not remember? You woke more than once.”

  I did? Were what I passed off as dreams really memories?

  “Indeed, there was no rest for either of us until I took you close.”

  I glanced up sharply. What the heck did that mean? Had he slept with me? In my bed?

  Either the Simathe really could read my mind or else my consternation was written all over my face. He chuckled, gesturing toward the hearth. “In the chair, of course. I did not compromise your honor.”

  Feeling my face turn red, I ducked my chin, squeezing my fingers into fists. Curse his being able to see through me so easily!

  “Lady Hannah.” All amusement vanished. “This is your choice alone. If you’d rather I forbear, I will not press it upon you.”

  For once he won’t force me into something? That’s a new one, especially after the way he acted today.

  “But you think it’s nece
ssary?”

  He flipped the question around. “Do you think it necessary?”

  I shrugged in tired defeat. “I don’t know. I guess I really don’t know what else to do. Yes…I trust you enough. Do whatever you have to do.”

  Amazingly, it didn’t cost me nearly as much to say those words as I figured it would, and I was startled to find myself, well, meaning them. Despite the fact that our relationship had never been good—and might never be—I figured I needed to take this step. Maybe it would help convince me one way or another that I was the Artan. At the very least, maybe it would help me overcome my resentment toward the Simathe High-Chief. Perhaps it would even help the fragile truce we’d formed in the last few minutes last.

  Mind Search

  “Close your eyes,” the warrior-lord commanded, and did so himself a heartbeat later.

  Clasping her face between his palms, he delved deep within himself to find the force uniting them. Once he discovered it, the Simathe allowed himself to be swept into the link and, from there, into her consciousness. She jolted as he entered her mind, her innermost being, but his grip restrained her. Focusing keenly, he swept through the different levels of her soul, seeking and ultimately uncovering a secret place in her mind, hidden even from herself. In an instant, their fusing ties allowed him to demolish the mental walls encircling it and to enter.

  What he found caught him unawares.

  She saw it too and, with a gasp, tore free. Concentration shattered, he opened his eyes to see her gazing up him, her eyes wide, both wonder and fright on her pretty features.

  “I remember,” she exclaimed. “I remember it all! It’s true, isn’t it? I did do it both times. Some sort of freak defense mechanism, I suppose. Which means I really do have…some type of abilities.”

  The dark warrior made no reply; of course it was true. What had been purported from the onset was now indisputable: she was the Artan. Doubtless, now that she knew it herself, under the fairy’s tutelage the knowledge and skill to employ her talents would come very soon.