Sin and Soil 10

by Anya Merchant

  It wasn’t until he’d mounted his steed and started down the road that he saw a figure waiting for him in the dark. It was a little girl wearing a cloak, features hidden by the hood, and she stood blocking his path forward.

  “That’s quite the animal,” said the girl. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  Her voice was quiet, with a waver of uncertain shyness to it that Damon recognized instantly. He climbed off the corrupted horse, holding its reins. The girl approached him, reaching out a hand and rising on her tiptoes to pet the animal’s head.

  “Seffi,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

  Seffarina, Lascivious’s most recent incarnation, didn’t answer him immediately. Damon’s mind swirled with questions, but he forced himself to hold his silence and wait for her initial answer.

  “Its coat is soft,” whispered Seffi. “Its eyes, though. Why are they that color?”

  Seffi’s own eyes flashed crimson for a passing instant. Damon looked around, hoping more than expecting to see Malon standing somewhere nearby.

  “Please,” he said. “Seffi, if you’ve seen my aesta, Malon, I need you to tell me.”

  “She’s safe.”

  Damon let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Where is she? What’s happened?”

  Silence stretched out between them across the next few seconds. The horse snorted and lifted its head out of Seffi’s reach.

  “You’ve all assembled in Silke, have you not?” she asked. “Let’s meet there.”

  “How did you know that?”

  He took a step forward that Seffi matched with a step back. The air around her seemed to swirl with fog, briefly hiding her from view. She’d disappeared by the time it settled. Damon’s heart rattled against his ribcage as he tried to sort through what had just happened.

  He climbed onto his horse and began riding toward Silke at full speed.

  CHAPTER 24

  Damon worked rather hard to keep his anxiety from consuming him completely until he finally reached Silke after two days on the road. He’d ridden through the first night and barely slept through the second, his mind doing him the disservice of imagining all the different ways in which the situation with Seffi and Malon might have already gone horribly wrong.

  He was also fuming at Vel for not reaching out to him with her dreamspelling. She’d said she’d contact him if anything of importance happened while he was gone, but now it was just the opposite. He was the one with news that she and Kastet desperately needed to hear, and unless she reached out to him, he’d only deliver it at the speed of a fast courier.

  It was late in the day when he arrived back at the seaside city. The sun was low on the horizon, casting a blood-red reflection across Veridan’s Bay and the water of the canals. He rushed through hiring a gondola to take him back to Kastet’s tower. The process felt so sluggish and inefficient, and he watched the gondolier handle his paddle with the efficiency of old molasses.

  He had no idea what to expect as he rushed up the jetty’s stairs and pounded on the door. When nobody answered after a pause, he was already sizing up where to kick in case he needed to brute force his way inside. Had something happened to Vel and the others? Was he already too late?

  Malon opened the door.

  It was all Damon could do to stare at her for a timeless, breathless second. She wore a pale white gown with thin shoulder straps and faint embroidery across the chest and sides. Her hair was down, unbraided, a rare sight that doubled the surrealness of the moment.

  “Solas…” she said, blinking in surprise. She lifted her arms, and Damon was suddenly rushing forward, pulling her into what was surely a candidate for the tightest hug he’d ever given.

  “Aesta,” he whispered.

  She smelled over-clean, as though she’d only just dried completely after leaving a bath. Damon knew that, after days of traveling, his own hygiene was the exact opposite. She didn’t care. He felt her head against his shoulder, so warm and familiar. His heart beat so hard in his chest that he almost mistook it for hers, or both their hearts, the tempo doubled up, hard and noticeable.

  He pulled back, cupped her face, and kissed her. His aim had been for her lips, but he found her cheek instead. That was fine. The coy, knowing smile she gave him was even more than fine, and it sent a swirl of excitement through him.

  “You’re back,” he said, finally finding words.

  “I’ve been back,” she said. “We’ve been waiting for you. There’s so much… so very much for us to discuss.”

  She took his hand, threading her fingers through his with gentle but insistent movements. He would have believed her if she told him she’d never let go of that hand again, and he would have been fine with it, on top of that.

  The sea breeze blew one of the curling locks of her red hair across her pale, slightly freckled face. Damon gently brushed it out of the way, wondering distantly how long they’d been staring at each other.

  “Come,” said Malon, swinging his hand. “The others will want to know you’re back. We’ll have time to catch up once we’ve checked in with them.”

  She slowly turned around, her gaze lingering even as her body turned. Damon pulled her into a hug from behind before she stepped through the door. He heard her let out a patient, though not displeased sigh. Her body felt so soft, so perfectly suited to crush against his.

  “Solas,” she whispered. “You must have really missed me.”

  “More than I think you know.”

  He inhaled her scent again, nuzzling his face into the nape of her neck. She took her time extricating herself from his embrace, giving every indication that she enjoyed it as much as he did, but was simply more focused in her maturity. She led him by the hand again as they closed the door and made their way upstairs.

  Vel, Kastet, Lilian, and Seffi were waiting for them, each having settled into a different spot around the room. Kastet paced, arms folded behind her back, face pinched with consideration. Vel lounged on one of the couches, wearing one of Damon’s old tunics. Seffi lay across the floor, reading a book, and Lilian was in the room’s corner, out of direct line of sight of the sunbeams flooding in through the window.

  “Ah,” said Kastet. “Good timing. We were worried we’d have to proceed with the next phase of planning without you tonight.”

  “I came as quickly as I could,” he said. He glanced at Seffi, who gave him a shy smile. “I see the situation has changed a bit since I left.”

  Seffi, Lascivious, still looked impossibly young to Damon, given the immense power she held. She appeared to be a girl of no more than fourteen, short and petite for her age, with frizzy brown hair and large, expressive, and utterly disarming eyes.

  She was, or at least eventually would be, as powerful as Wrath and Avarice. She dog-eared the book she was reading and pulled her knees toward her chest, looking uncertainly toward Malon, and then to Kastet.

  “The situation is constantly changing,” said Kastet. “This time, in our favor. We have a way of reaching Gabriel before Avarice does.”

  Still holding his aesta’s hand, Damon walked over to one of the couches and sat down with her. “How? The only relevant detail I was able to discern from my contact was that Gabriel is still on his ship and no one knows exactly where it’s destined for or when it’s arriving.”

  “Simple,” said Kastet. “We dreamspell to him.”

  “Haven’t we tried that already?” said Damon, shaking his head.

  “Seffi can help us,” said Vel. “She’s far more powerful with dreamspelling than I am, or even Jilou. I can serve as the focus, finding Gabriel using my memories and image of him, while Seffi lends her magic to mine to strengthen the connection.”

  “Is she truly that adept at dreamspelling?” asked Damon. He didn’t realize how much doubt he’d lent to his voice until he glanced Seffi’s way and caught her averting her gaze.

  “She’s the reason why I couldn’t reach aesta through dreamspelling,” said Vel. “
Her influence extends even to protecting her mind and those of the people around her from being toyed with during sleep.”

  “It’s true,” said Malon. “I was also concerned about what might happen if I dreamspelled out to you with Seffi nearby. She may have been able to enter the dreamscape, intentionally or by accident, and I had… certain concerns about what that might entail.”

  Damon nodded, though her explanation hadn’t ameliorated all his concerns. “Vel said she traveled to Anliwich and found the remains of Seffi’s home. I don’t wish to press either of you on what must have been a painful past event, but what happened?”

  He shot a glance toward Seffi, but she was busy with her book again and didn’t look up. It was Malon who answered, after slowly folding her arms.

  “Avarice found her.” Malon let out a slow breath and squeezed Damon’s hand. “She called out to me in distress after losing her entire family at his hand. She managed to save herself only through luck and the strength provided by her powers.”

  “Oh…” whispered Damon. “Seffi. I’m so sorry.”

  Seffi gave a small shrug heavy with feigned composure. “I miss them.”

  A somber mood settled over the common room which none of them seemed eager to attempt to dispel. Malon moved to stand behind Seffi, gently resting her hands on her shoulders. Vel, without hesitation or shame, slipped in to take her former spot next to Damon.

  She seemed happy to see him and Malon together, or at least contented with it. There was an edge of knowing in the way Vel looked at them, as though she, like Ria, understood how deep the emotions ran between Damon and their aesta.

  “The path forward, for once, seems fairly straightforward,” said Kastet. “We’ll plan on reaching out to Gabriel this evening, before dinner, if possible. Damon, if you need time to rest or bathe, take it now. You should be part of the group that enters his dream.”

  “I’m willing, but why me?” asked Damon. “You’re his sister. I knew Gabriel for all of a span of days and haven’t seen him in person since. If you’re uncertain about his intentions, why would you think I have a better read on him?”

  “The fact that I’m his sister is fairly meaningless, now that he’s King,” said Kastet. “It may even work against convincing him that I’m advising him in good faith. Or possibly not. I’ve no idea how my brother may have changed over the past months. But I do know that he’ll feel an immense amount of gratitude toward you for discovering that he still lived and freeing him from Anise’s dungeon.”

  “Fair enough.” Damon took a breath and ran his hand through his hair, feeling the extent of his exhaustion. “A bath first does sound like a good idea, though.”

  CHAPTER 25

  Kastet had acquired a pair of servants at some point, likely loaned help from the now agreeable Lord Governor. Damon ate a snack of sausage and cheese while they heated and filled his bath. He felt days’, if not weeks’ worth of tension melting off his shoulders as he finally sank into it.

  Once clean, he changed into a comfortable set of men’s evening clothes that someone had had the good sense to lay out for him. The others were waiting in the common room, already busy setting up the stage for the events of the night to come, in a rather literal sense.

  “Is this really necessary?” he asked.

  Vel and Lilian were layering blankets upon an empty section of floor, creating a soft sleeping pallet that looked as though it could fit half a dozen people.

  “For Vel and Seffi to combine their dreamspell magic, they need to be in close proximity,” said Kastet. “You and I will also need to be nearby. This just simplifies the situation.”

  “We’ll need to all fall asleep in unison,” said Vel. “We can’t start until everyone is dreaming. Obviously.”

  “Obviously,” teased Damon.

  Malon set a hand on his shoulder and passed him a steaming mug. “Chamomile tea. It should help you relax.”

  “Thanks, aesta.”

  Lilian moved to stand by the door as she finished setting up the quilts, standing with the posture of a diligent guard. Seffi was already wrapped in a sheet at one of the corners of the quilt. Vel took the spot next to her, and Damon squeezed in between Vel and Kastet after finishing his tea.

  “It looks as though it’s time,” said Malon. “Just relax. It’s been a long day for all of us. Rest, and let yourselves fall asleep.”

  She moved from person to person, tucking in Seffi, and then Vel, and then Damon.

  “Goodnight, solas,” she whispered.

  “Goodnight, aesta.”

  She kissed him softly on the cheek, and he didn’t try to find her lips this time. It would only draw the attention of the others, and it certainly wouldn’t help him sleep.

  Malon tucked Kastet in as well, and Damon took an odd delight in watching the Princess squirm as she tried to maintain her regal air while having a blanket folded around her shoulders by motherly hands.

  Damon leaned his head back into the pillow, already feeling tired as Malon moved around the chamber, dimming the lamps. He felt Vel’s arm brush his shoulder and shifted her way. She slid into him, not quite cuddling or spooning, but putting their bodies into slightly intimate contact. He could hear her breathing, the way she slowed it deliberately.

  Surprisingly, Kastet made a similar move on his other side, taking his arm and hugging it as though it were a spare pillow. Damon hoped that Seffi didn’t feel too left out from where she lay on Vel’s other side.

  “Do you think Gabriel is going to be happy to see us?” whispered Vel.

  Damon shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

  “I just mean that—"

  “Shhh!” hissed Kastet.

  “I was just going to say—"

  “Velanor,” said Kastet, testily. “We’re trying to sleep.”

  Kastet yanked on Damon’s arm, nuzzling even closer to him. She lifted one of her thighs and draped it across his leg. In terms of distraction, it was close to ten times harder to ignore than Vel’s whispered question, especially as Kastet’s leg began to shift closer to his crotch as she fidgeted to get comfortable.

  “Whose foot is that?” asked Vel.

  “Um…” said Damon. “Possibly mine?”

  “Vel!” snapped Kastet. “What did I just say?”

  Damon felt Vel sit up beside him, followed by an irritated huff.

  “Hey…” said Vel. “You’re practically on top of him! Damon, what are you doing with the princess?”

  “You should be asking what the princess is doing with me, actually,” he said.

  “I’m just trying to get comfortable!” snapped Kastet. “Velanor, whatever it is you’re implying or accusing me of is completely out of line!”

  “Can we take the intensity of this conversation down a notch?” asked Damon.

  Vel picked up her pillow and swatted it across Kastet, who let out an offended gasp and reached for her own. Damon groaned and, with fading reluctance, grabbed his pillow and tried to decide which of them he was going to take his frustration out on first.

  Vel caught him in the shoulder after missing Kastet by the width of a hair, which was all the invitation Damon needed. He clubbed her legs out from underneath her as though wielding a deathmace, delighting in the way she squealed as she fell onto her butt.

  Kastet let out a cute grunt as she knocked the blunt side of her pillow against Damon’s ribs. He trapped it under his arm, reeling her in as she let out a mock shriek and tried to pull it away from him. Damon lifted her into the air and, with considerable care, flipped her upside down and pinned her underneath him on the quilt.

  “Um,” whispered Seffi. “I’m also trying to sleep.”

  She entered the fray, swinging her pillow in a windmilling arc, striking both Vel and Kastet in the same swing. Seffi was clearly no stranger to pillow fights.

  Damon laughed as he unleashed a torrent of tickles on Kastet, who wriggled beneath him and attempted to order him to stop with what little remained of her royal dignity.
/>   “Vel!” she managed to yell, in between her laughter and gasping for breath. “Truce!”

  Before Damon could declare that truces obviously violated the unwritten code of pillow fights, he felt Vel’s petite limbs curl around his back. She clung to him as though he was giving her a shoulder ride, and her weight, slight as it was, still amounted to enough to tip him sideways and off balance.

  They landed on the quilts with Damon’s face buried in her chest, her nightgown shifting enough in the chaos to ensure that there was no shortage of bare skin for his mouth and cheeks to make contact with. Kastet began pummeling him in the back with the pillow, keen on her revenge, though Seffi was attacking her and serving as a reasonable distraction.

  “Mmm,” grunted Vel. “Damon… I’m going to get you!”

  “I’ve already gotten you.”

  He tried to tickle her, but she was of the same mind and was devious in her aim. Damon felt Vel’s hand shoot down between his legs, touching and teasing with fluttering movements that put him on the defensive. He pinned her with his body weight, still trying to fend off Kastet from behind.

  The door to the common room opened, and lantern light spilled onto the scene.

  “Could someone explain exactly what is going on in here?” asked Malon.

  Damon caught his breath, slowly extricating himself from Vel. “Sorry, aesta. Vel started a pillow fight.”

  “I did not!” said Vel. “I was only trying to get Kastet to—"

  “I wasn’t doing anything wrong!” interrupted Kastet.

  “That’s enough,” said Malon. “Please, just for the next few minutes, try to act like adults and focus. Please?”

  “Sorry, aesta,” mumbled Vel.

  They settled back down under their respective sheets. Malon walked a slow circle through the room, playing the part of a sentry patrolling a central parapet.

  “I’ll make sure they all stay in line,” said Damon.

  “Solas, you are the one I’m most worried about, by far.” She leaned forward, and he could see her shooting him a mock glare by the light of the lantern. “Hands to yourself.”