by Lexy Wolfe
The former Dulain of Sanctuary pushed himself to his feet, grabbing a meat roll from the basket. “Having a healer present makes no difference to the Desanti.” His voice drifted up the tunnel. “We’re all still going to end up bruised nose to tail.”
Izkynder looked between his unhappy tlisan, his face screwed up in a tragically worried expression. “I can fix owies, Mama?” he implored.
Terrence reassured the boy with a gentle voice. “Don’t worry. Everyone gets unhappy now and then. It’ll be all right in time.” He glanced meaningfully at the others, displaying a level of maturity that surprised most of them.
Emil smiled brightly. “‘Course, lad! I just woke up a bit grumpy, tis all.” Emaris arched an eyebrow at him, shook his head, and went back to wolfing down his food.
Storm got up and took Ash by the hand. He started to ask a question. “We need a bath to relax,” she stated as blunt explanation. The others chuckled at Ash’s expression of surprise at Storm’s atypical use of euphemism, and then his cough when he understood what her intentions were. He grabbed a plate with food and followed her.
“I will check on the drizzen and drizar,” Terrence stated. “Weren’t you and Izkynder going to spend the day with the herbalist, Taylin?”
The woman started to speak then followed his glance to her husband and the gypsy brothers, putting on a cheerful face. “Yes, of course. Izkynder, come along. Alysha enjoys having you playing in her garden.” The boy smiled brightly and climbed on her back.
After everyone but Mureln, Emil and Emaris had departed, the wiry man quipped with weak humor, “Terrence be about as subtle as Storm. Must be th’ Githalin bond that be rubbin’ Desanti behavior off on ‘im.”
“There are worse things that could have happened,” The bard noted as he pulled apart a sweet roll, eating it slowly. Studying his food, he said, “Did you and Itena have a fight?”
Emil sighed, shaking his head and closing his eyes. “No’ exactly. I been…well. Ye know I been bothered lately wi’ all th’ fawnin’ that people been doin’ over all of us.”
“Hard not to notice,” Mureln pointed out, his voice gentle. “You never were one who wanted to be the center of attention. Unless you were doing it so someone else could stay unnoticed. Drawing focus and counting the gold were the reasons you kept me around.” Emil managed a smile. “I wondered if it was getting under your skin.”
“I dinna realize what bein’ a Guardian o’ Time would mean.” He flicked a nutshell across the table to tink against a tureen filled with sweet rolls. “Eyes are always on us. Those we’d normally chat up ta get information from avoid us. If they don’t avoid us, they be all clammed up an’ formal. An’ these people here are used ta seein’ Guardians. I do no’ want ta think what it will be like when we leave.”
Mureln frowned. “So, this is what you fought about with Itena?”
“We dinna fight!” Emil exhaled gustily as the other two fixed worried looks on him. “She suggested we ‘disappear,’ so ta speak. Offered ta teach Emaris an’ me how ta hide our marks an’ change our appearances. Outta sight, outta mind. Given time an’ more Dusvet Guardians, no one’ll even remember we existed, jus’ like they all fergot Itena is an Unsvet Guardian. Th’ problem be the bayuli-volsha.”
The bard could not help but gape. “She wants you to leave the tribe? How can you consider that after—”
Emil stated in a plaintive voice, “I do no’ want ta leave th’ na’Zhekali! I was th’ one who suggested we be part o’ Storm’s tribe ta give ‘er a family.”
“I remember.” He crossed his arms, leaning forward as he regarded the man. “But you are both ghost guard, too. That is not a duty that can be done by someone who is watched as closely as Guardians are.”
“An’ that be th’ problem!” Emil threw his hands out in a helpless, frustrated gesture. “Storm ain’t likes people hidin’ who they are, ‘specially if they be mortal servants o’ gods. Ghost guard ain’t marked but well. We serve th’ Seeing One.”
The bard blinked and repressed a sheepish look, scratching the beard along his jaw that hid a glittering mark curling around his ear. “Why don’t you just talk to her? Explain what it is that ghost guard do. You know the one thing she is obsessive about is duty to the gods. It took some time, but once she embraced the Guardian protocols—”
“Storm dinna exactly embrace ‘em. She put Swordanzen standards to ‘em an’ holds everyone to those. Ye seen th’ paces she puts them Unsvets ta wi’ combat trainin’. An’ one of th’ Swordanzen rules be not hidin’ yer marks as it be disrespectin’ th’ god yer serving in her eyes.”
“Mm. You do have a point,” Mureln agreed grudgingly. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “None of you make this easy, do you?”
Emil attempted a cheeky smile that fell a heartbeat later. “I was jus’ glad she dinna insist we try ta match her an’ Skyfire ta Swordanzen fightin’ standards. But this…” He looked at his brother who had long stopped eating, staring at his plate with a frown. “I do no’ know what I should be doin’, Mureln. An’ I kenna make decisions fer Emaris.”
The large gypsy turned to his brother. He shook his head, signing with decisive gestures. As he continued with growing emphasis, Emil managed a wan smile. “Thank ye, Emaris. Means a lot knowin’ ye ha’ my back.” He looked at Mureln who watched them with a proud, sad smile. “We will talk ta Storm. When we finds a good moment. Got until Lyra an’ Bella get back from their crysalin gatherin’ jaunt, right? Plenty o’ time.”
STORM AND ASH walked into the sultry warmth of the bathing cavern, the embedded moonstones flaring to life with their presence. The natural magic light gave an eerie, silvery blue glow to the deep water of the huge pool. He sat the plate he had brought on a low table that had been installed in the room, watching his lifemate as she undressed. A gentle smile softened his features. “You are so beautiful.”
She snorted. “I am not. You are biased.”
“Happily so,” he agreed as she turned to help him remove his own clothing. “So, I’m not dying or anything, am I?”
Storm looked up, her expression one of alarm and confusion. “Of course not! Why would you ask me such a thing?”
He traced the line along her hair to her jaw, his eyes following as if drinking in the sight of her. “For weeks, we have not shared an intimate moment. You have been so far withdrawn some of the tribe asked if we had fought.” A wry smile curled the corner of his mouth. “I know I should be happy and enjoy the fact that we are together like this now, but…”
Storm smiled, capturing his hand to kiss his scarred palm. “You would not be my mage if you did not constantly try to understand everything by questioning it all. Even if it is beyond understanding.” She led him into the water to a low rock shelf that allowed them to sit with the water almost reaching their shoulders.
“You have never been so accepting of my constant questioning.” He studied her with worry. “You aren’t dying or anything, are you?”
“No, I am not dying,” she confirmed, her eyes fixed on a reflection in the water. “More than that, I am not sure I can speak on more.”
Ash’s frown did not lessen. “What do you mean?” He blinked as his intuition jumped to realization. “Divine edict? I thought it did not apply to mortals.”
“Normal mortals are not required to adhere to it. Servants of the gods who are not immortal are tasked with at least taking care not to allow or cause imbalance to occur knowingly. But since mortal lives are limited, often they are unaware of the scope of what they can do, for good or ill.” She sighed heavily. “It does apply to Thandar.”
“I see. But you are not a divine servant.” He puzzled. “I do not understand how their edict could affect you now. Unless you are…?”
“No, I am not becoming Zhekali again.” The hint of doubt or fear, something unnamable in her tone, pricked the man’s concern. “The bond between human and Totani is a twining of spirits.” She held up his right hand, tracing the cool-to-the-touch eterna
l braid. “It is not unlike this image you bear. Two woven into one. Thandar and I are separate entities and we are one. To be Githalin is not simply to be the mortal incarnation of a divine servant. He is the immortal incarnation of a mortal servant. The line of what applies to us is very delicate when it comes to the divine edicts. My mortality can blind him while his divinity can restrain me.”
Ash turned, gently moving her to sit facing him on his lap. Though his body stirred with the intimate position and need to be with her, his concern for his lifemate was greater. “What happened to Thandar?” He cupped her cheek when she began to look away with a grimace. “You do not have to tell me details. I just want to know what has upset you.” He moved to catch her gaze. “I must know, beloved. I am worried about you. The tribe is aware something is amiss, but not what.”
After several heartbeats, she answered. “I am not sure.” Her smile was sad, but proud. “Our bond is unique among the Totani and humans of Desantiva because of who I used to be. He learned from me how to limit what we share. And to hide things from me.” She exhaled. “He kept me from knowing anything about Dzee until you had restored her. When I asked him why, he had told me it was to spare me the anguish of her loss and inability to mend it. I already tormented myself over my Father’s imprisonment.”
“But her body was right there, encased in crystal.”
She nodded with a sigh. “All I knew was it was the body of someone dear to Father, but it was too painful to Him to discuss. Knowing grief as I had, I did not wish to cause Him more, so I never asked.” She shook her head. “I have no idea what else Thandar is hiding from me now. He has not spoken to me since before the testing.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “I have been unable to commune with him…at all.”
“No wonder your behavior has been so peculiar.” He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight against him. “I wish you would have said something to me sooner. We are lifemates. We are supposed to support each other, at least emotionally if we cannot in any other way.”
She rested her head on his shoulder, face turned away. “I did not want to burden you more.”
“Aelia,” Ash began to scold until he met her eyes. Her expression told him everything she did not say. His voice was barely a whisper. “You are why no one knows exactly how troubled and distracted I have been. How long have you been shielding me from the tribe?”
“Since the first nightmare. I could think of no other means to protect you. We are chieftain together. As you Forenten are fond of saying, we must appear to be strong when we are not so those who look to us for strength do not falter. The others are friends. Family. The chieftain is always alone, even among family. But we are chieftain.” She caressed his cheek. “We are alone together.”
“You could have asked me directly about what has been bothering me,” he pointed out.
Storm shook her head. “You were not ready. I have never known you to be comfortable speaking on matters of your heart, much less if someone spoke on the matter first. Usually, you seem to be ashamed you feel anything at all. I was not going to point out you were faltering.” He touched her chin, keeping her from looking away. “I do not want to hurt you. But I hate seeing you hurting and knowing of no way to help you other than to conceal your troubled heart from the others until you were ready to speak to me.”
Ash sighed. “And I left you to shoulder these troubles alone. Forgive me for adding to your burden as Alanis, beloved. I am terrible when anyone touches on a weakness of mine.”
“Am I much better?” Her bland voice held a note of dry humor. “We have both been alone for a very long time. Behavior becomes ingrained, especially when it protects our more fragile selves.” She lifted his right hand out of the water, tracing the star-shaped scar. “I know you have worried after your brother enough to have nightmares imagining—”
“They are not about Nolyn,” Ash interrupted. She blinked, then frowned. “They are similar to those I had after whatever tragedy had befallen my family in Andar. Glimpses of terrible things I cannot recall, feelings I cannot name. It took the great mother to help me suppress those so I could get rest as a child.” Both looked at his right hand. “It wasn’t until we forged this bond that I learned not everyone had them every night like I had.”
He sighed, lowering his hand again. “I have never regained the memories of my childhood, of what happened to my birth family. I do not remember what they looked like. I don’t even know their names. Bennu and Ellis never told me when I was still seen as a lowborn orphan. My uncle and I never spoke on it after he told me the truth of my birthright.”
“It sounds like a reliving, but…” She shook her head. “They don’t happens when asleep. And nothing unusual has happened to cause any that I know of so suddenly—”
Ash chuckled softly and kissed her cheek. “You are developing bad Forenten habits, thinking too much about meaningless things.”
She looked at him in outright surprise. “I am developing bad Forenten habits? Me? Humph.” He laughed at her expression, a long and loud release of tension. Tears rolled down his cheeks, the flow of dammed up emotions suddenly freed nearly overwhelming.
The uncontrolled crying laughter stopped when Storm leaned forward to bite his ear lightly. He inhaled sharply, closing his eyes in pleasure as she began kissing him along his neck, slow and tender touches of love. “Aelia,” he sighed, losing himself in the sensation of her body and heart wrapping around and touching his as he buried his face against her neck. So lost in one another, neither noticed the ghost of flames, cool blue and warm orange, dancing on the water as they made love.
Bella, if you would just give me directions, I’m sure I can find the place myself,” Lyra stated with exasperation. “I was born and raised in Forenta. I trained as a woodsman before I became a servant. I am not naïve in the forests.”
The Vodani woman shot a glare over her shoulder. “And I am not helpless because I cannot use my arm.” She cinched the backpack with one hand, then worked to get it onto her back and secure it. Once it was settled, she returned her paralyzed limb to its sling. “I am more than capable of playing guide and showing you where crysalin can be found.”
“I don’t want to trouble you—”
Bella glared at the smaller, fairer archer. “Stop. Pitying. Me! For the love of all the gods, just because I can’t shoot a bow anymore doesn’t mean I am useless!” She grabbed the reins of her horse and led it out of the stables. “I refuse to be useless. And I need to get out again before I go insane.”
“And she has never had far to go to reach insane,” the fatherly, if more youthful, voice of Almek interjected from astride his own horse. The two women looked at him in surprise. “Mind if an old man tags along with you lovely young ladies?”
“You’re not old,” Lyra countered, blushing when the five-hundred year Guardian arched an eyebrow in amusement.
Bella just laughed outright. “Since when do I qualify as a ‘lady,’ Almek?” She shook her head, in better humor. “I’ve been called many things, most which cannot be repeated in the company of more civilized souls. That has never been one of them.”
“When it gets a smile out of a former student of mine.” Most of the white had left his hair, but the deep wrinkles around his eyes remained. “Given the dearth of archers of your skill, I thought I might be useful being another with knowledge of where to find crysalin.” He added when Bella opened her mouth. “I know it is a guarded secret among you and the other gifted with the bow, but if something had happened to you, then Lyra would never have known.”
The Vodani woman grumped. “I’m sure she could have found it…eventually. Might have taken a century.” She pulled her horse around and kicked it into a trot. “Come on. We can reach the place in a day with enough light to gather it. But we can’t make it back in the same day. I hate setting up camp in the dark.”
Almek smiled reassuringly at Lyra’s worried expression. “Don’t worry. She usually gets cranky when someone’s argument is right a
nd hers is not.”
“I can still hear you!”
“Very good!” he called back. “Now I know it isn’t your hearing that’s gone bad. You’ve just been ignoring me.” He grinned at the Vodani woman’s colorful swearing.
Lyra giggled, shaking her head. Her glance kept drifting toward the senior Dusvet Guardian’s profile. “Were you getting Bella’s cabin fever, too?”
“Rather.” He looked her. “I have rarely spent more than ten years at a stretch within the Timeless One’s territory. Twenty at the most.” He stretched. “Because I am no longer the only Dusvet, She will not allow me to leave until I have fully recovered. However, She’s allowing me out of Sanctuary. After decades of traveling place to place, being in one for so long feels like being caged. I imagine the more nomadic members of the na’Zhekali have felt similarly.”
“Oh.” Lyra looked forward, lost in thought. After several minutes, she sighed. “I am a terrible person.”
Almek frowned at her, confused. “Whyever would you think such a thing, my dear?”
“Well, I never really considered how anyone else felt. I just assumed I knew.” She focused on the reins in her hands. “Whenever I would feel cooped up, I would volunteer to go gather herbs from the forests or maybe hunt small game. But I never imagined anyone else would feel like that.”
“Ah, I see.” They rode in silence for a time. He spoke with nothing but gentle kindness in his voice. “You are a very perceptive young woman, Lyra. But you are used to dealing with a narrow group of people with very similar needs and expectations. And I imagine viewing them as separate from yourself was ingrained. Growing up where you had did not expand your knowledge of other cultures.”