Fate's Star

by Elizabeth Vaughan

  “Stalemate,” Narthing said. “Your enemies afraid to come against you. Exactly as you’d hoped for.”

  Verice sighed. “True enough,” he said. But at what price, he asked himself.

  Almost as if Pernard had read his thoughts, he cast him a glance. “How is your lady?”

  “Not well,” Verice sighed. “In fact, if we’re done here?” He rose from his chair.

  The others rose as well.

  “My thanks, Pernard, for coming. Your wisdom is appreciated,” Verice said. “Narthing, get some rest. Ersal, continue to draft bland messages of meaningless diplomatic phrases to our ‘ally’ Valltera.” There were chuckles as Ersal nodded. “I’ll be with Warna if more news arrives. Gentlemen.” He nodded to his advisors, and slipped from the room and headed to her bedchamber.

  The keep was quieter now. The work was still going on, and Verice could see that Ersal and others had moved back into their old chambers and offices. But the mood was dampened by the growing awareness that Warna was ill...seriously ill.

  Still the work continued on all the rooms and chambers. Except the Great Hall, as he had ordered.

  He opened the door slowly, hoping not to disturb Warna if she was sleeping. And she was, curled around a warming stone, buried under the blankets.

  The room was lined with cots and pallets; the healers were keeping a constant vigil. He noticed Warna’s lidded basket against the one wall. Someone had made sure her things had been brought to the room.

  Not that she was in any shape to enjoy them.

  He went to the other side of the bed, and sat so that he could see her face. She looked so tired and listless. Her hair had lost its luster, and someone had pulled it back in a loose braid. He doubted she’d had the strength.

  Her eyes fluttered open, and after a moment she focused on him and tried to give him a smile. “Verice,” she whispered.

  “Lady,” he said. “How are you?”

  “Thirsty,” she grimaced. “But when I drink, it starts again. I don’t want that,” she closed her eyes.

  “I should let you—” Verice started to excuse himself.

  “No,” she complained. “All I do is rest. Tell me the news.”

  “Barathiel has pulled his forces back,” Verice said. “I think he was trying to take Tassinic so fast that no one would have a chance to respond before he had it under his control. But now that word has leaked out, I think he’s decided to wait and see what happens.” Verice hesitated. “I don’t think he knew what Blesenthala was up to,” he continued. “I don’t think Barathiel would have countenanced it, if he’d have known.”

  Warna frowned, thinking it through. “But why would she do it?” she asked. “Does she hate humans that much?” She took a shaky breath. “I doubt she was really trying to kill me. More of a cruel prank, don’t you think?”

  “Blesenthala and I have a bit of a history,” Verice said softly.

  Warna gave him as much of a glare as she could. “One of these days, you are going to sit down and tell me every day of every year of your life,” she whispered.

  “What makes you think I remember with that level of detail?” Verice quirked his mouth, and leaned closer.

  Warna reached out and captured a lock of his hair between her fingers. “Every detail,” she whispered.

  “My parents offered marriage for myself and Blesenthala,” Verice said. “Many, many years ago. But the offer was refused, and she was given in marriage to Barathiel, next in line for the throne.”

  “She wanted you,” Warna said. “She still wants you.” She tugged on his hair. “Charrin said something about a taint in your blood. Was that why—”

  “Yes,” Verice said softly. “Five generations back, the eldest male of my line married a human woman.”

  “Five generations?” Warna rasped, licking her lips. “Five elven generations? That’s ridiculous.”

  “That’s yet another reason I left,” Verice said.

  “Thick as posts, those people are,” Warna closed her eyes and sighed.

  “M’lord?” Dominic approached. “A word?’

  Dominic drew him out into the hallway and down a ways from the door. “It would be best if Lady Warna does not hear us, m’lord.”

  “Dominic?” Verice felt the fear leap in his throat.

  “M’lord,” Dominic looked him in the eye and there was none of his normal haughtiness in his expression. “Lady Warna is critically ill, and I fear for her life.”

  “Tell me,” Verice said.

  “She has kept nothing down these past days,” Dominic said simply. “And that includes our herbs and potions. Items that normally end nausea only seem to worsen the problem. She retches up everything we give her. Her urine output is decreased, she complains of thirst, her hair and skin are dry, and her cycle is upon her, which only adds to her misery.” He took a deep breath “M’lord, she will die if she cannot drink.”

  Fear lanced through him, clutching at his heart. This could not be possible, and yet Dominic’s face told him otherwise.

  “I mean no offense,” Verice said, “but perhaps another healer…?”

  Dominic gave him a look that managed to combine sympathy and arrogance all at once. “M’lord, I am your foremost healer.”

  “I—” Verice wasn’t sure how to reply to that. True enough, Dominic was skilled but there had to be someone—

  Dominic wasn’t done. “I met a woman when I was in Edenrich. A mage, but also a priestess with the gift of magical healing.” His face was tight, as if with pain. “Evelyn.”

  Verice frowned. “Lady High Priestess Evelyn?” At Dominic’s nod his frown deepened. “She’s human, Dominic. And bound to the Church of Palins, which supports the Usurper. I daren’t be beholden to—”

  “Evelyn is not like that,” Dominic said. “She heals all and sundry, even ministering to the poor when she was told to attend only those of the highest rank.” Dominic shook his head as if he could hardly believe it. “She’d come, m’lord. And she may be Lady Warna’s only hope.”

  Verice drew a breath, seeing what it cost the proud mael before him to utter those words.

  But it was only a breath of hesitation. His heart reflected the fear in Dominic’s eyes.

  “Contact her,” Verice said. “See if she will aid us.”

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Lady High Priestess Evelyn was both mage and priest. After she agreed to come, she offered to open her own portal. But Verice insisted on controlling access. He opened a portal for her right in the bedchamber after excusing all but Dominic.

  Dominic stepped within the glowing oval, and returned with a woman wearing the formal hooded cloak and embroidered white and gold robes of a priestess of the Lord of Light. She was short in stature to Verice’s surprise, and her smile was serene and kind.

  “Lord Verice,” she said softly, her attention focused on Warna, who lay in the bed just beyond. “This is Warna?” she asked, moving to her side. “Dominic has told me of the problem.” She threw back her hood, and removed her cloak, tossing it aside. “Let me see what I can do for her.”

  “My thanks, Lady High Priestess. I owe you-” Verice started.

  “Nothing,” Evelyn interrupted. Verice hesitated, expecting more talk. He blinked in amazement as power started to gather in the priestess’s hands. Wasting no time, she leaned over and placed her hands on Warna’s breast.

  Warna roused, opening dazed eyes, but not seeming to really see. Verice swallowed hard.

  Evelyn’s eyes were closed. It might have been the effect of her robes and the candlelight, but Verice could have sworn that the woman seemed to glow with divine light as she ran her hands down, moving the bedding aside to get access to Warna’s body. Warna shivered for just a moment, then closed her eyes and seemed to relax into Evelyn’s touch.

  Dominic stood beside Verice, his hands tucked into the sleeves of his robes, and watched Evelyn work. There was a look in his eyes...and Verice was almost sure it was envy, for the power Evelyn
wielded. But after another glance, he knew it wasn’t jealousy.

  It was desire for the human woman.

  ‘Poor mael,’ was all he had time to think before Evelyn started talking.

  “Gwenwyth, correct?” Evelyn said, holding her hands over Warna’s stomach.

  “Yes,” Dominic said. “An elven tea, but humans sometimes cannot tolerate it. I’ve never seen this severe of a reaction before.”

  Evelyn nodded, her eyes still closed. “Yes, I can see it, lingering in her stomach and bowels. Poor thing, no wonder she’s so weak. She can’t rid herself of it with fluids, and it won’t dissipate on its own.” Evelyn wrinkled her nose. “I’m afraid this is going to be unpleasant.”

  “Unpleasant?” Verice demanded.

  “Once we wake her, we’ll get her to drink as much as she can. I’ll aid to help cleanse the gwenwyth from her body, but it must come out, and she’s already exhausted from vomiting. I’ll strengthen her as much as I can before we purge her.” Evelyn said calmly, ignoring Verice’s reaction. “And we’ll carry her into the jakes before we start. Dominic and I can handle the details.” She focused calm blue eyes on him. “You might want to leave, m’lord.”

  “No,” Verice started to remove his leather tunic. “I’m staying.”

  Evelyn raised an eyebrow at that, but she merely glanced at Dominic, who shrugged. “Very well,” she said, and leaned over her patient. “Warna? I need you to wake.”

  Warna blinked at her, rousing with some difficulty. “Are you an Angel of Light?” she asked drowsily.

  “No,” Evelyn said, putting her hands on Warna’s chest. Once again Verice saw her hands glow. “I am Evelyn, a healer. Dominic and I are going to help you.”

  “Oh no,” Warna looked so pitiful. “Evelyn, no more vomiting,” she begged.

  “Call me Evie,” Evelyn gave her a rueful smile. “And no more vomiting. I promise.”

  Verice resisted when they made him leave at dawn.

  “The worst of it is over,” Evelyn pointed out as they settled Warna back on the bed. “Dominic and his staff can handle it from here. I must return to the Church for the dawn service, but I would like to return later to make sure that the gwenwyth is out of her body. You can open a portal at—”

  “I give you leave to open your own, Lady High Priestess,” Verice said wearily. “I will seek my own bed, I swear. I don’t know how you will have the strength to perform your duties.”

  “Long years as a healer.” She smiled.

  Verice looked down at Warna, who hadn’t stirred as they’d covered her with blankets. “Lady High Priestess, you have my heartfelt and undying gratitude. She’s—”

  “Hush.” Evelyn turned him, and pushed him towards the door. “Before you promise me all sorts of impossible things.” She opened the door and forced him through. “But Lord Verice?”

  He paused just outside the door. “Yes?”

  She wrinkled her nose at him impishly, and gestured toward his stained tunic and trous. “You might want to bathe before you take to your bed.”

  Verice slept longer than he intended, and woke to a mid-day sun streaming through his windows. The dogs weren’t about; he couldn’t remember when he saw them last. He dressed quickly, threw water on his face, and started for the keep, not pausing for food or drink.

  It might have been his imagination, but the sun seemed brighter this day, and the folk that greeted him seemed lighter of heart. A fancy, surely, but Verice took the steps to the keep two at a time, barely nodding at anyone he saw. The door to her bedchamber was closed, and he almost feared to open it when he heard—

  Verice stopped, the knot deep in his chest unwinding from around his heart. He leaned against the wall and did something he rarely did. He offered his deep and sincere thanks to his Ancestors.

  Warna was singing.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Kalynn stood at the center of the Heart of the Plains and breathed in the air of home.

  The sky above was a bowl of blue, darkening to the east as the sun set. The stars were starting to dance along the horizon.

  The breeze was soft; the heat of summer fading from the air. She’d toed off her boots, and the Heart was warm beneath her feet. Warm from the sun, but lifeless otherwise.

  Wolfe was removing the airion’s harnesses, freeing them to hunt. Of course, they had to roll in the grasses as soon as they were free. It made her laugh to see their joy.

  Wolfe walked toward her, his wispy white hair floating in the breeze. He carried one of the saddle bags and a blanket. He paused at the rim of the stone.

  Kalynn waited.

  He shook his head, shrugged, and stepped on to the surface.

  Nothing happened.

  “Do you remember?” She asked as he walked closer. “When it pulsed with life? When all the Tribes gathered around, and the Heart beat with their energy?”

  “Yes, of course,” he spread out the blanket, and pulled her down to sit beside him. “Let’s see what we have. There’s those hard crackers you like, and cheese and—”

  “Regrets?” She asked.

  Wolfe stilled, and then looked out into the distance. “I regret that they would not listen. I regret that they would not honor your choice. They dragged you from me, screaming your outrage and fear, and I lost my mind in that instant.”

  Kalynn rose on her knees, and hugged him, pressing his head to her breast.

  He continued, his voice muffled. “I regret that I lost all control, tore the magic from the lands in my rage. It fled, from me, from them, from the very Plains around us.”

  He pulled back, and looked up at her. “But I would do it all again, tear the world asunder to be at your side.”

  She cupped his face with both hands and kissed him, pouring her love into him.

  He broke the kiss, and took a breath. “Now, dried cherries?”

  She laughed and settled beside him. The airions took flight, spiraling up into the sky.

  “Will they be all right?”

  “I’m cloaking them,” Wolfe said absently, pulling out wrapped bundles. “I’ve enough reserves to hide them and us from any wandering eyes.”

  “Is anyone about?”

  “Some thea camps, and one group of Singers, but they are far enough not to be a problem.”

  “The Ancients?” Kalynn asked.

  “Pfft, those little dried turds?” Wolfe popped a cherry in her mouth. “Do not worry. Once the airions have fed, we’ll fly north.” He grimaced, and she knew it wasn’t the taste, it was the destination.

  “She may have mellowed,” she offered as she bit into the tart fruit, bitter and sweet on her tongue.

  Wolfe grunted. “And ehats might fly.” He pulled out a loaf of bread. “But you are right. She needs to know.”

  “Will you have enough power to hide us?” she asked.

  “So long as you don’t have your mount do any more loop-de-loops.” He raised a chiding eyebrow at her.

  Kalynn just smiled. “It felt so good to be flying.” She reached for the crackers, but then she looked up and off to the west. The tug on her heart came again.

  “Seeing?” Wolfe asked softly.

  Kalynn nodded absently, lost in the sensation. They needed to be there, at a certain time, a certain place—

  “Eat,” Wolfe nudged her shoulder with his. “Time enough to do what must be done.”

  “We did something in the name of our love that reached far beyond us,” Kalynn was still lost in the possibilities. “It echos still. This is our chance to make amends.”

  “Kalynn,” Wolfe said, his voice heavy with sorrow. “We can’t fix this.”

  “No,” Kalynn whispered as the possibilities faded from around her. She smiled at Wolfe. “But we can set other feet on the path.”

  Chapter Fifty

  “Is there any lingering soreness when you move your bowels?”

  Warna wrinkled her nose at that. Healers asked the most uncomfortable questions sometimes, and Evelyn was no exception.
“No,” she answered.

  “And your bowel movements are regular? Solid?”

  “Yes, and yes,” she said patiently.

  “And the color?”

  “Evie!” Warna sputtered.

  Evelyn laughed. “Sorry, it’s just that the expression on your face—” she laughed again, looking more mischievous than any priestess Warna had ever met. “Here, let me examine you one last time.”

  Warna lay flat on the bed, and let Evie have her way. She admired the high ceilings and the sunlight streaming through the windows. Verice’s chambers were lovely, but she’d been cooped up in here for days.

  “And your cycles?” Evie asked as she moved her hand inches from Warna’s stomach.

  “Over, thank the Lady,” Warna sighed.

  That brought another chuckle, but then Evie went silent, her face intent as she invoked her powers. Warna felt a tingle as her hands moved around her mid-section. “That’s amazing, you know,” she whispered.

  “It’s a gift of the Lord of Light,” Evie said just as softly. “But it has its limits. Dominic can treat an entire village dying of sickness; at best I could treat a limited number before my own life was at risk.”

  Warna’s eyes went wide at that thought, but she stayed quiet, letting Evie do her work.

  Finally, Evie breathed a sigh and opened her eyes, pleased. “Gone. Not a trace of gwenwyth that I can find.”

  Warna sat up, breathless with hope. “Dominic said that if you released me from care, he would lift his restrictions as well.”

  “Then consider yourself free,” Evelyn said. “But bear in mind that it will be a while before your true strength returns. Rest when you are tired,” she warned. “Listen to your body.”

  “I promise,” Warna said and on impulse swept the priestess into a hug. “Evie, thank you!”

  To her delight, the hug was returned. Warna tightened her arms again, and then released, feeling absurdly happy. “Evie, please, visit as a friend in the future.”

  Evie smiled back, but then her face dimmed. “I’d like that, Warna, truly. But the times are...difficult.”