by L. Penelope
Ella just squeezed the girls tight. She had thought long and hard on how to protect her family. To shield them from the scheming and the power hungry, from those who wanted to manipulate or harm them. From the cutting glances and biting words and the people shouting against them in the streets.
But the reality of being a parent was just starting to set in. Sometimes protection was impossible. Some threats were far too big to grasp, much less battle against. All she could do was hold them tight, and love them as much as she could.
And pray it would be enough.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
The child emerged from the river bearing an armload of wriggling fish. “We have plenty,” the sister said. “Jasper the Farmer has made it so.”
Ayal ate with the family, enjoying the veritable feast. But inside her full belly lay a dark foreboding.
—THE AYALYA
Tai found Darvyn standing at the edge of the vast car park, black vehicles stretched out beyond. The Lagrimari man was hunched over, stiff as a board, staring toward the mountain rising behind the palace. Tai crossed the gravel underfoot to stand next to him. In their brief acquaintance, Darvyn had proven himself to be an excellent ally and a good friend.
“If there’s anything I can do, mate,” he said, “I do smuggle things for a living. Occasionally that includes people.”
Darvyn’s eyebrows rose a fraction.
“Only those who want to be smuggled, I assure you,” Tai said, holding up his hands.
A flicker of amusement crossed Darvyn’s face but soon died.
“I’m very serious, though. My ship is yours if you need it. I’m headed out in two days’ time. I’ve been summoned home by my king.” His mother’s furious cable message had been singeing its way through his pocket. It was already a week old, having arrived while he was in Yaly. He would have to do quite a lot of groveling to avoid prison again, unless she was in a generous mood.
“I appreciate that, Tai. I’ll keep it in mind.”
They stood for a few moments more before Tai decided to leave the man alone with his solitude. Sometimes that was the greatest gift of all—time to think.
He’d been doing a lot of thinking himself. The hedge maze beyond the main garden was good for that. He’d wandered it for hours the day before, his mother’s summons in his hand. He had no love for the city of Rosira, for the fancy palace and the residents who, as a whole, turned their noses up at him. If not for the Goddess’s mission and then the king and queen’s consent, he would not even have been allowed into this place. Mik had firmly refused Tai’s invitation to join him, preferring the cheap Portside inn. There was only one thing that made the thought of leaving shred him inside: Lizvette.
Though she had not invited him to her apartment in the palace, Tai had made sure as soon as he arrived that he knew how to get there. A bit of talking up certain members of the kitchen staff—more intrigued than appalled by his rough looks—had ensured he knew Lizvette Nirall’s location. He sought her out now, walking through the finely appointed labyrinth until he reached her door.
He was glad her house arrest had been lifted and her rooms were not under guard. Imagining her locked away, even in an opulent palace apartment, grated him. He knocked and waited several minutes before Lizvette herself appeared on the threshold. She broke into a grin when she looked up at him. He leaned against the door frame, drinking her in. But instead of inviting him inside, she stepped out, closing the door softly behind her.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, still smiling.
“What do you think?”
“How did you know where to find me?”
He winked. “Are you having a party in there or something? Too busy for old Tai?” He made his voice teasing, but her obvious reluctance to invite him in spoke volumes.
“No, I’m not busy. Let’s go somewhere, though. I hate being stuck inside all day. Shall we visit the gardens?”
He forced a smile and waited in the hallway while she grabbed her shawl. Once she was suitably covered, they headed out.
Tai wanted to reach for her, to hold her hand, but her crossed arms offered little chance of that. He wondered if it had been a mistake to come see her. She hadn’t contacted him since they’d been back at the palace and he hadn’t seen her for two days, not since she’d left the king’s office after their meeting.
As soon as Tai and Lizvette cleared the palace walls, however, her shield seemed to come down. They paused at the entrance to the main garden, where the path split off in three different directions.
“Come this way,” she said, pointing to the left. She took his hand in hers, and a weight dropped off his shoulders.
Her hand was soft and delicate. The memory of it stroking him heated his blood, blasting away any chill. Her cheeks were rosy, as well. He wondered how often she thought of their night together. They had yet to speak of it.
“I have to leave in two days.” He’d thought it best to be direct, not dance around the issue, but she paled rapidly and nearly tripped over the gravel pathway. He steadied her with an arm around her waist and pulled her to his side.
“S-so soon?” Her voice was small. He regretted having to tell her, but it was for the best.
“Mother is angry with me. If I don’t go quickly, she will no doubt send me back to prison.”
Her eyes rounded, and she sucked in a breath. However, she didn’t draw away at the reminder of his past. Instead, her expression turned melancholy, her eyes wide and sorrowful. “Do you have to go?” she whispered.
He couldn’t stop himself from caressing her cheek. “Unfortunately, yes.”
She nodded, leaning into his palm. The knot inside him tied itself tighter, joining him to her in an invisible bond. He wanted to kiss her, but something held him back.
“Come with me.” He spoke the words before he’d even finished thinking them, but once they were said, they felt right. “You don’t have to be stuck here surrounded by memories of everything that’s gone wrong. I believe I can convince my mother that I’m sufficiently sorry, and then we can go anywhere you want. We can sail the Delaveen Ocean to every port. You’ll see things you’ve only read about.”
Lizvette closed her eyes, as if picturing the trip already. Color returned to her cheeks, and she smiled. When she opened her eyes again, though, sadness still overflowed.
“That sounds wonderful, but I can’t. Father will surely be convicted, and my mother…” She shook her head. “She’ll be left with nothing.”
Tai stroked her cheek. “Do you think she would … harm herself?”
Lizvette chuckled bitterly. “Not a chance. She’s already trying to marry me off to a rich merchant’s son, or anyone with coin who will still have me, really.” Her tone was wry, but Tai stiffened.
“Marry you off?” He searched her face for some clue she was joking.
Lizvette looked away, then took his hand, tugging him down the path. They passed through gardens whose buds had already closed in preparation for winter.
“My mother and my cousin believe I can still secure the future of our family through marriage.” She shrugged with stiff shoulders.
Tai’s head ached suddenly, pounding inside his skull. “And what do you think of that? Aren’t you tired of being their pawn?”
She turned on him, her face full of fire. “This isn’t Raun, Tai. There are limits to what women can do here. I could work and provide for her, or I can marry. And I’ve never had a job.” She looked around helplessly. “I don’t even know what it is I could do to earn enough for Mother to be comfortable.”
“Maybe she needs to be a little uncomfortable,” he muttered.
Lizvette squeezed his hand. “I didn’t say I would marry someone Mother chose. But I don’t know what I’m going to do. I just don’t know.”
The desperation in her voice melted Tai’s anger. He drew her to him and breathed in the scent of her hair.
“Perhaps you can come back here. Once you appease your mother,” she
said. The hope in her voice only saddened him.
He forced his voice to be cheerful when he responded. “Rosira has always been a busy port. I will certainly be back.”
She nodded against his chest and wrapped her arms around him.
“Are you cold?” he asked.
“Cold to my bones,” she said.
“You know, even though we can’t go to your room, we could always go to mine,” he said cheekily. He fully expected her to refuse and was surprised when she pulled back with a giant grin on her face.
“Why, Master Summerhawk, that’s an innovative idea.”
He gave a mock bow. “I have those every now and again, duchess.”
He led her back to the palace and to his room and kept her there, between his sheets, for as long as he could.
* * *
Footsteps passed Kyara’s cell fairly regularly, but there was something about these particular ones that caught her attention. She shifted on the mattress to see who was there and lost her breath.
Eyes red, face inscrutable, Darvyn stood before the barred door. He didn’t say anything, merely raised his hand to grip the iron, holding it so tightly the skin around his knuckles lightened.
She scrambled up, hurried over to him, and stroked his fingers. She smelled burning metal, and then he was pushing open the door, hauling her into his arms, burying his face in her hair.
Tears streamed down her cheeks at his closeness. She’d washed up and been given a new set of clothing—an Elsiran dress that hung off her awkwardly—but she wished she could meet Darvyn looking her best for once. Though she had no idea what that would even look like.
“Is there any way I can persuade you to come with me?” he asked. “To walk out this door and just leave? We could go anywhere. Tai would sail us away and we could just be gone, like specters in the night.”
His voice stoked the longing in her. “They would stop us,” she said, shaking her head.
“They couldn’t stop you.”
“You don’t think I should be punished for what I did?”
His eyes bored holes into her. “Would you have done it without the spell?”
She shook her head silently.
“Then no. You were forced. Besides, the trial was a sham. You had no chance to represent yourself. At worst, you should be retried with an adequate defense.”
Kyara leaned her head against Darvyn’s chest and ran her hands up and down his back. “And if I follow you out of here, how many would get hurt?”
“No one has to. You don’t have to use your power if you don’t want to. You never have to use it again. I can get us out. Just tell me that’s what you want.”
She stared up at him. If the choice was between death and Darvyn, then there wasn’t one. Her resolve to go through with the execution wavered. “I don’t want to kill anymore,” she whispered. “I don’t want to hurt anyone. No more spirits.” She shivered, pushing away the memory of the dream. “And we’d have to go far away from people. I can’t risk…” She swallowed hard.
“Whatever you want.” Darvyn gently took her hands and led her out of the cell. As they passed the other compartments, she peered in to find the occupants all asleep. The guards at the front station were in the same condition.
She looked at Darvyn askance, and he shrugged. “I’ve been forbidden from the dungeons by the Goddess.”
“And where is She now?” Kyara asked.
“Not here.” He hurried up the staircase leading away from the damp stone prison. The dark passageway was empty, but footsteps ahead drew them up short. She jerked Darvyn’s hand back when the intense concentration on his face made it look like he was gearing up for a spell.
“You can’t put everyone in the castle to sleep.”
“Why not?” he asked.
She drew him toward a door. When the handle wouldn’t turn, she motioned for him to do his unlocking trick. He complied, and they slipped into the dark room just as the footsteps drew nearer.
He sang a ball of fire to illuminate the space. They were in a storage room. Shelves lined the coarse walls, and discarded tables, chairs, crates, and boxes filled the floor. Footsteps thundered by in the hallway outside. Darvyn led Kyara to the back of the room, and they settled on a thick, scarred table.
“They must have discovered what you’ve done,” Kyara whispered.
“It doesn’t matter. I won’t let them kill you.” He said it with such vehemence, such strength, but Kyara was torn. Was her life worth so much more than those of the people she’d killed? Did she even deserve Darvyn’s loyalty or his love?
If she lived, what would she do? And what would happen if someone else took an interest in her powers? More Physicks or some other type of mage out in the world? She was one blood spell away from being made a killer again. She knew all too well how short-lived freedom could be.
But she couldn’t explain any of that to Darvyn. His pain was raw and exposed. She knew he felt the need to make this right. Isn’t that what the Shadowfox did? He’d spent his whole life saving people he didn’t even know, and she loved him all the more for his determination to rescue her, even when she didn’t deserve it.
She stroked his cheek and brought his head around so she could brush his lips with hers. It wasn’t even a kiss, just a graze of their mouths, but it opened up a well of longing. Darvyn let the fire spell go, plunging them into darkness. But she didn’t need to see him, only to feel him. He kissed her properly, thoroughly, plundering her mouth with his own and leaving no part unexplored. She was soon on her back on the table, ignoring the discomfort of the hard wood as he fit himself above her and between her legs.
She could still hear activity in the hall. Then the door to the room rattled as someone tried it.
“Darvyn,” she murmured.
“They won’t get in. No key will open that door.”
She wanted to protest more, but then his lips moved to her neck. She stretched back, pushing everything else from her mind. She trusted her safety to him. And her time was nearly up anyway.
Impatient, she dragged up the hem of the dress to her waist and tried to move his hand to where she wanted it. He chuckled against her mouth before pulling back to help remove the irksome clothing. She was left only in her underwear, shivering in the cool air.
The intense darkness, together with the noises just outside the door and her overall sense that this would be the last time for them, made her greedy. Her emotions were at war, her body on fire, and her heart breaking.
The rustling beside her must have been Darvyn shedding his own clothing, for when his body met hers, it was all smooth skin and hard muscle. He kissed her senseless until all thought melted away. She stroked every bit of him she could reach, running her palms down his back and over the firm globes of muscle below, down the backs of his thighs and around to the front until she gripped him in her hand and guided him inside her.
There was never enough time for them, there never would be, but she relished the perfect fit as he invaded her body. She bit her lip and then his shoulder as they came together, rocking the table into the wall with each movement.
Darvyn shifted them so that the table was quieter and he was somehow deeper, no longer just inside her body and her heart, but now penetrating her soul, too. The darkness, the fear, the longing all combined, and when she went over the edge, bright stars lit her vision, piercing the blackness.
She heard and felt his heavy breaths against her and pulled him even closer, wishing she could slice herself down the middle and store him inside her. She never wanted to be without him and mourned the fact that nothing, not even love, was allowed her.
She only realized she was crying when he separated himself from her and cradled her in his arms and wiped her tears. His lips glanced off her cheeks, kissing the wetness away.
Whoever was at the door had long since moved on, apparently deciding that if they couldn’t get in, neither could anyone else. They had a little more time, then. She took advantage of it
and found Darvyn’s lips again. This time she would savor him. Taste him everywhere she wanted to.
She gently prodded at his chest until he was lying on his back, then crawled on top of him, holding his arms in place as she took her time exploring the length of his body with her tongue. When he moved to shift positions, she silenced him in the most pleasurable ways. This time when they made love, it was slow and lingering.
After she asked, he brought the flame back so she could look into his eyes and burn the expression on his face when they came together into her memory.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
When it was time to leave, the family offered her their horse. “To carry you on your way,” said the grandmother.
“Your generosity is too much,” Ayal said. “I cannot take your only horse.”
“Do not fear,” the horse replied. “I will return to them once I have seen you off.” And so she accepted the gift.
—THE AYALYA
“The hallway is quiet now,” Kyara said. She opened her other sight and found no Nethersong nearby, indicating no one lingering about. They had lain together quietly for a long while in the darkness, but if they were going to leave, now was the time to do it.
Kyara was still unsure what she should do. Was it possible to live happily with Darvyn when so much guilt assailed her? His touch and his presence convinced her to try, for him.
They made their way to the door. Darvyn melted the lock completely away, releasing it. He peered into the hall, then motioned for her to follow.
They sprinted down the corridor, which ended in a set of stairs going up. Kyara headed for them, but he pulled her back. Reaching out with her Song again, she sensed two people waiting on the floor above.
“This way,” he breathed into her ear.
He guided her to a narrow area behind the stairs that she hadn’t noticed before. At first, it appeared to be a crawl space, but it ended up being a low tunnel. They crept a dozen paces on their hands and knees when the ceiling rose suddenly. The passage ended in a small vestibule that, judging by the dust and musty odor, hadn’t been used in quite a long time.