“That mean lady with the dead eyes came back,” Stella complained to me. “You promised you’d stop her, but you didn’t. She hurt me.”
Ami gasped and started to say something, but I held up a hand. “I’ll make Essla sit on you,” I warned, and she subsided, burying her face in Astar’s golden curls.
“I know I promised, and I apologize that I let you down,” I told Stella.
She shrugged a little, then reached out to play with my ruby necklace. “That’s all right. Can I have this?”
“Stella Andromeda!” Ami cried, not silenced for long.
This time I ignored her. “Someday, yes, when you are older. If you study hard and practice your magic.”
Her gaze returned to my face, curious and thoughtful. “With you?”
“If you like.”
She turned to look at Ami. “Mommy, can I?”
Ami managed a smile. “Yes, Nilly mine. When you are older.”
“Yay,” I sang out, and Stella grinned at me.
“Everybody is very upset,” she confided. “That hurts, too.”
“I know. Would you like me to help with that?”
She nodded vigorously. “Yes!”
“Yes, please,” Ami inserted. I rolled my eyes and Stella giggled.
Then I gave her a serious look. “This is an important thing I’m asking. To help you shut out all the emotions of people being upset, I have to go into your private thoughts. I won’t do that without permission.”
She considered that with a maturity far beyond her years, even for a precocious shapeshifter child. “Will it keep the mean lady away?”
I ran a hand over her long hair, so like my own, I realized. “I hope so. I’m also learning new things.”
“We can practice together,” she said, slipping her hand into mine. “You’re hurting, too. Want me to fix it?”
I glanced at Ami, who gave me a wide-eyed look. “Her healing ability is amazing. She healed Ash’s arm after the sleeper attack like it was nothing.”
Children rarely possessed much healing ability, as it usually appeared with maturity. I didn’t want to strain Stella, but healing me would keep her occupied while I worked on her mental defenses—and sniffed around for the high priestess—while also allowing me to evaluate her abilities.
“I would love that, thank you,” I told Stella, then nearly gasped as green healing energy, vital as springtime, filled me. She held nothing back. With all the uninhibited honesty of a child, bursting with the vigor of her young, fresh body, she poured the healing into me almost faster than my own strained body could absorb it. “Whoa, pull it back some, baby girl,” I managed.
Her face crumpled, and the healing cut off abruptly. “Did I hurt you?” she asked anxiously. She shimmered slightly, a sign she might shapeshift, so I hastily grabbed mental hold of her current form. Now that I’d embraced the ability, it came reflexively.
“Stay with me, Nilly. It’s fine.” I waited for her to relax. Shapeshifter children were both like and unlike non-Tala children. All children had something of a feral nature to them, much closer to their animal instincts. But shapeshifter children, especially those who found their First Form early, tended to be as much that beast as human child. Or more, as in Astar’s case. Rayfe might have a point that we needed to intervene and push Astar to spend more time as a boy.
“Better,” I told her with a smile, that she returned tremulously. Clearly I had a lot to learn about being a teacher. “Softly, like petting a kitten, with gentleness, so you don’t frighten it.”
Her healing energy slipped in quietly. “Lovely,” I told her. “Concentrate on keeping that the same. I’m coming into your mind now. This is me knocking to say hello, I’m here.”
I knocked mentally, like I did with Zynda, and Stella’s eyes flew open wide. “!!!”
I nearly laughed at her wordless mental reaction, her thoughts scrambling and spinning like a kitten chasing its tail. “Hi Nilly. It’s Auntie Andi.”
“!!!”
“Try to say hello.”
“Hi Auntie Andi!” she exclaimed, startling Ami.
“I’ll never get used to this,” Ami muttered.
“See if you can say it without your voice. Think the words at me.”
“Hi Auntie Andi. This is weird. You tickle, but inside my head!”
I covered my wince at her volume. Better for her to be loud than too quiet. “Hi Niecey Nilly,” I said. “Now you know how to reach me. You don’t have to knock. If the mean lady returns—or if anything bad happens—you call me.”
“I will! I hate that lady.”
“Me too.”
“You do? Mommy says it’s wrong to hate people, that we should love everybody, no matter how bad.”
I managed not to roll my eyes. Ami would say exactly that. Being the avatar of the goddess of love came with a certain onus. Looking to Moranu came with advantages that way. The followers of the goddess of shadows and dark arts could hate just fine—and I planned to use that. But how to handle this with Nilly? Ami wouldn’t thank me for interfering.
“It can be our secret,” I told Stella. “I’m going to destroy the mean lady, so she can’t bother either of us again.”
Stella’s eyes widened more. “Can you do that???”
“Yes.” I infused that with all the confidence I didn’t feel.
“Good. She tried to kill Willy.”
“You knew it was her and not Uncle Rayfe?”
“Of course.” Her scorn rolled through with disbelief. “He doesn’t feel at all the same when she is making him move and talk.”
Ah, if only I’d done this sooner. “You are so powerful and clever.” I let her see the truth of that in my mind, carefully walling off anything she shouldn’t see. “I’m going to look around now, to be sure the mean lady didn’t leave any bad things in you.”
“Yesyesyes! Please,” she added with a mental giggle. “I’m healing you. And talking to the baby.”
I startled at that, pausing in the careful scan I’d already begun. “You can talk to him?”
“Yes. Kind of. He doesn’t have words though. He loves me already. But not as much as he loves you. I told him his mommy is the most powerful sorceress in all the world!”
Faintly embarrassed, I set that aside and resumed checking Stella’s mind. Searching a child’s mind felt so different than what I’d done before. With fewer memories and complex ideas, in some ways she was more open. But that feral nature extended to her mind, so that communicating with her was more akin to talking to Fiona, or the staymachs in some ways—all formless thought, emotion, and unleashed impulse. Perhaps that’s why she could talk to my unborn child.
Another riddle for better days.
And one I forgot about immediately when I found the hook in Stella’s mind. That’s how it seemed—like an anchor embedded deep in her still forming brain—and one that felt like it had been there for quite some time. Probably since Terin stole her from her cradle at Windroven.
It was so deeply embedded, in fact, that I didn’t dare remove it, for fear that I might permanently damage Stella’s mind. That fucking bitch. The rage filled me clear and cold, with a sharp and bitter edge.
“Is something wrong with me?” Stella’s mind-voice came more tentative now, and I greatly regretted that she’d felt my anger. I also considered reassuring her. Such a baby still, to be confronted with this kind of tampering. And yet… this was her mind, her sovereignty of will, and she deserved to know. Also, she’d be the one who’d know if the high priestess attempted to use it.
“You are perfect in every way, Nilly love.” I poured all my conviction into that thought. “But the mean lady left something in you.”
“Get it out!!!” she boomed in panic, and this time I couldn’t help the flinch. “Sorry,” she said more quietly. A soothing balm flowed over my own mind. “Didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Remarkable, this small child’s gifts. “I think only killing the mean lady will get rid of this thin
g,” I told her, baldly and honestly.
“And you’re going to kill her, right?”
“Yes, I am. But meanwhile, I want you to see this hook, so you’ll know if she tries to use it. It’s what she uses to talk to you.”
“Show me.”
Why her imperious command reminded me of Kiraka, I couldn’t say. I took Stella by the hand and led her mentally to the hook deep in her mind, showing it to her.
“That’s always been there,” she commented.
“It shouldn’t be.”
“Oh.” She was quiet a moment, and I could feel her exploring it. “Can I stop her using it?”
“Try building a wall around it.”
I watched with fascination as she made several attempts—and I didn’t interfere as her ideas were far more creative than anything I’d have suggested. A pang of nostalgia assailed me, as it occurred to me that I might’ve worked with my mother this way, learning from her, had things gone differently.
I wish it, too.
The voice crossed my mind, so like my own thoughts that I almost didn’t hear it as different. But immersed so deeply, with Stella’s bright green magic suffusing me, I mentally spun, looking for the source.
“That’s Grandmother Salena,” Stella told me in an absent tone. She was creating a mental version of some toy blocks in colorful shapes and assembling them into a little castle that looked very much like the walls of Windroven. So absorbed was she that she didn’t note my astonishment—and stab of grief.
“Grandmother Salena talks to you?” I asked it quietly, hesitant to disturb her concentration.
“Sometimes. She’s dead though, so it’s like talking to the baby. Not clear, like you are.”
Amazing and wonderful and terrible. I didn’t know what to make of that. Old stories always implied that children were more open to hearing the voices of ghosts, some said because children had taken only a few steps from that other realm, others said it was because their minds were more open and malleable. I’d love to talk to Zynda about it.
“This is working,” Stella mentally stepped back and showed me her castle.
“Excellent job.”
“It needs more though.”
“All right.”
“Andi?” I heard my name called in the outer world. “I don’t know—they’ve been like this for some time.”
“I should go talk to everyone.”
“Can I keep working on this?”
“Yes. And sleep. You’ll be tired from this good work, and from healing me. Thank you.”
She yawned mentally, the kitten stretch of her mind agreeing sleepily. “All right. Love you.”
“I love you, too, Nilly mine.” Gently I extracted myself from Stella’s mind, erasing the traces of my passage as I went. As I came back more fully into my own body, I became aware that the pair of us had slid down, cuddled together, and someone had put a blanket over us. Taking one more moment, I inhaled the sweet scent of her hair, delighting in the warmth of my niece tucked against me. The baby stirred and I sent him a loving thought. If only all the world could be this way, all the time.
“Well, if they’re sleeping, I hate to wake them, but…” Ursula, her voice strained.
“Andromeda would want us to wake her,” Rayfe declared, and he knelt beside me, brushing my hair from my face with tenderness that wrung my heart. “My queen,” he murmured, and whispered a kiss over my cheek.
I rolled onto my back, making sure to tuck the blanket around Stella as I turned. I lifted a hand to Rayfe, winding my fingers in his hair, tugging him down to me for a kiss. He obliged with heat, and I gloried in it. I wanted to savor every good moment left to me. “I’m awake,” I said against his lips.
I felt him smile. “All appearances to the contrary.”
“No, I really am.” Then I remembered, saw the pained knowledge in his eyes of all that had occurred. “How are you?”
He sobered. “Not a question I can answer for myself with any certainty, it seems.”
“Rayfe…”
He kissed me again. “We will talk. Later.”
Blowing out a breath, I nodded and sat up, warmed that he slipped an arm around me to help me lever up. I scrubbed my hands over my scalp, pushing back the tangled mess of my hair. Everyone had gathered round again, tension riding the air. “What’s going on?”
A silly question, with many answers, but no one gave me grief for it.
“The doors to the tunnels,” Ursula said. “They’re digging through. Only the barrier you erected is stopping them and I assume we can’t rely on that indefinitely. Besides, we can’t just hide down here. We need to make a plan.”
~ 20 ~
We tucked the sleeping Astar in with Stella under the blanket, their twin heads, bright and dark, immediately leaning together. I reassured Ami that our Nilly would be fine—and did not tell her about the hook the high priestess had embedded in her daughter’s mind. A favorite aunt could keep some secrets, I decided—especially when her mother would only worry.
“We’re seriously hampered by not knowing what’s going on with everyone else,” Ursula fretted. “We need to go out there and meet the Deyrr forces head on, but who knows what we might encounter? Still, we’ll be at a worse disadvantage if we wait for them to breach the doors.”
“I can find out how things stand,” I said.
Rayfe nodded. “Andromeda is, of course, far more powerful than I, and she can extend her mind farther, but I can track the movements of our people. Between us, we should be able to find out everything you’d want to know.”
Ursula gave us a look of astonished disgust. “Why didn’t you say so before this?”
I shrugged, making it Tala elaborate, just to poke at her a bit. “We had other priorities.”
Rayfe laughed softly, then turned to me. “Speaking of which—are you all right? I don’t smell fresh blood anymore.”
His concern no longer felt so prickly and smothering, and I leaned against him, glad for the shelter of his arms and the lean strength of his body. “Yes, Nilly healed me completely. I feel better than I have in weeks.”
“Is that so?” He eyed our sleeping niece with the same surprise I’d felt.
“How are you,” I asked tentatively, unwilling to look in his mind for myself, “with… everything?”
His brows slanted down, and he lowered his voice. “I feel very strange, like I’ve been asleep. And there are things I’m wondering about. Traces of you in my mind. You didn’t—”
Ursula cleared her throat pointedly, tapping her fingers on the hilt of her sword. Grateful to postpone the inevitable confession to Rayfe of how I’d violated the trust between us, I gave her a look of polite attention.
“Yes,” Rayfe said, facing her. “Speaking of which, I owe you apologies and amends, for the Hawks I apparently murdered.”
She gave him a long look. “Are you going to apologize for every person killed by Deyrr? Because that would be a lot of amends.”
He frowned. “Well, no, but—”
“No buts,” she said, cutting him off. Never had I been so grateful for her decisiveness and clear, bright lines.
I touched his cheek. “No one blames you.”
“Enemy,” Ursula said pointedly, and loudly. “At the doors. About to descend upon us. You can canoodle later.”
“If we survive,” Ami quipped, then looked sorry she’d said it. But she straightened her spine. “I’d like to point out that you all are together with your partners in life, whereas Ash is…” Her musical voice broke and she lifted her chin defiantly at me, as if I’d criticized her for the lapse. “If you can tell me how he is, I’ll forgive you not finding out and telling me before this.”
Chagrined, I nodded at her. “I recalled the n’Andana attack team before we retreated down here, but I’ll check with them first.”
“I’m surveying our people now,” Rayfe murmured.
I heard his call to the Tala, a bone-deep sounding like the howl of a wolf on a full-moo
n night, summoning, asking for answer. I’d felt something similar before when he called the Gathering. The King of the Tala, rightful alpha of them all, asserting his leadership and requiring their attention. Even I quivered to respond, though I was able to set the urge aside and focus on my own task.
I reached out to Zynda, knocking first. No reply.
Dread chilling my heart, I tapped more loudly. Nothing. I widened my call, looking for traces of any of their minds. Zyr I could usually at least hear, but no. I zoomed out my mental scope, scanning for the null spots that would be Zynda and Djakos’s dragon-shaped holes in the world. Nothing nothing nothing.
Increasingly panicked, I cast about for Kiraka, not bothering to politely tap for attention this time. “Kiraka!” I sent.
“So the queen emerges from hiding,” the old dragon replied. There was a sense behind her thoughts of a battle raging, of a minute pause between each word like a person puffing for breath.
“I can’t feel Zynda or the others.”
“I’m sorry for you, but I’m busy. The cliffs out here are overrun.” She slammed me into the view from her eyes, as if she’d grabbed me by the throat and mashed my face against a window. We were entirely overrun. Kiraka perched on the ledge outside the council chambers, the little table Rayfe and I had once shared in happier times now shattered. I might not have recognized Annfwn, the way smoke clogged the skies. Once colorful silk banners flamed or flapped in rags. Screams rent the air. And the sea boiled with ships.
A phalanx of Deyrr creatures arrowed in on Kiraka. She blew out a wide swath of flame, ashing them from the sky. The dust cleared and another took their place.
Profoundly shaken to see my visions a reality, I asked, “Dafne, Nakoa, and the baby?”
“Doing all I can to protect them. Wish I’d taken them out of here.”
“Do it now.”
“Can’t. Dafne won’t leave you all, even if I could get them out. We’re trapped.”
The Fate of the Tala Page 27