Fall From the Moon (A Bánalfar Novel Book 1)

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Fall From the Moon (A Bánalfar Novel Book 1) Page 26

by CS Hale


  I awoke to the dark and a body curled around mine. The rhythmic breathing told me that Valemar was asleep. I should have felt better — my husband was happy at my return. But Aedenfal oozed poisonous little tendrils that wormed their way into my heart, as if this place was kryptonite and I Superman from the old Earth myth. All my powers seemed to fade. Why couldn’t Valemar have been in Torfin or Lendurig or even Snow Reach? Anywhere but here.

  Piece by little piece, jagged glasslike shards ripped from my soul, cutting through my heart, revealing a bloody mess that in no way resembled flesh. Nothing remained of the strong, confident person I’d been once upon a time, back when the Palmas Cove still had an engine. It would have been better if it had been me.

  I must have stirred for Valemar woke. “What is it, my love?” he whispered.

  Covered by the blanket of darkness, I spoke the words I had so often thought. “It should have been me.”

  “No!” Valemar shifted and laid his cheek on top of mine. “But it shouldn’t have been Daria, either.”

  Tears flowed, wetting my face. Valemar lifted his and sat up. He patiently, gently wiped my tears, his hand tracing across my face as each one was erased, only to be replaced by another. When the last had dried, I turned and looked at him.

  Valemar smiled and bent down to kiss me. It was little more than a feather’s brush, but the kiss ignited a fire that burned through my veins. After so long with nothing but pain pumping through my body, I reached up and pulled him to me. I wanted to burn. Maybe … if I was lucky … the fire would finally consume me.

  I AWOKE THE next morning, still breathing, the in and out of my lungs matched by the rise and fall of Valemar’s chest — my pillow. I’d survived. I’d poured out all my pain, used our lovemaking as a crucible, sure that I was nothing but slag to be burned away. But somehow, I still existed.

  I ran my lips across Valemar’s chest, ready to try again. Surely this time I would disappear. Valemar’s arms tightened around me, and he rolled us over. But instead of kissing me, instead of starting again, he simply brushed the hair out of my face. I would have brought his lips to mine, but the discerning look on his face stopped me.

  “Will nothing make it better?” he asked, searching my face.

  “This will,” I said, pulling his hips closer.

  Valemar chuckled. “As nice as that would be, it would only be a temporary fix.”

  I curled my legs around his. “Temporary is fine with me.”

  Valemar groaned as I pressed myself against him. “What do you need, Astrid?” he asked, his voice husky, his eyes half-closed.

  “This.”

  Valemar’s lips brushed mine. My eyes rolled into the back of my head. “And then what?”

  “Life,” I said, without thinking. “I need there to be life.”

  Valemar answered by drawing back his hips. A moment later, he was inside me, filling me. Life, I thought, hanging onto him as if I might drown. All I need is life. And then I lost myself in the dance that created it.

  I lay on him after, as close to content as I’d been in an age. Ever since Glábac. “I’m sorry I sent you away,” Valemar said, his fingers tracing patterns on my back. “I hated you for a long time.” And like that, the darkness opened up again.

  Valemar brushed his lips against my hair. “But when I thought you were gone, I realized I couldn’t live without you. You are my heart.”

  “I’m sorry I lied.” Valemar stiffened. “I let you believe I could have children. I didn’t … I didn’t know how to tell you without crushing your dreams. And inflicting the horror that would follow when I told you why.”

  “We’re so vulnerable,” Valemar whispered, and I knew that Reina must have passed along the details.

  “That’s why contact is forbidden. Your world isn’t ready.” I lifted my head. “And I ruined that. I ignored the rules and saved myself.”

  Valemar brushed back my hair and tucked it behind my ear. His finger traced the flat curve of it. “Shale would say that you were listening to a call you didn’t know you heard.”

  “I don’t know how do this.” My voice was barely more than a whisper. “And people are already dying.”

  Valemar curled a lock of my hair around his finger. “They were dying long before you arrived. You can’t blame Daria’s death on yourself. You make the strangers nervous. They tried to eliminate you.”

  A lump rose in my throat. I’d never asked. I hadn’t wanted to confirm that it was all my fault.

  I swallowed. “Reina found the culprit?”

  Valemar nodded. “The kitchen girl had talked to a ‘stranger’ who said he was like you — from the moon. He convinced her that you pined for it, that you missed the taste and spices of your own world. He gave her a bag to add to your favorite lian tarts, but warned her that you would know if any of it was missing so not to taste it.” I closed my eyes. Foolish girl. “She made the tarts.”

  “Only Daria ate them instead of me.” I settled my head back on his chest. “She … she said … Better me. Her dying words were, Better me.”

  Valemar’s hugged me closer. I hadn’t told anybody. Not only would it have made it real, but they might have agreed with me. It should have been me.

  “What happened to the girl?” I asked.

  Valemar sighed, and I knew with the sound that I wouldn’t like the answer. “Reina had her hands cut off.” My stomach rolled and I tasted bile. “And then she had her disemboweled as a warning to others.” My eyes closed against the images that rose up, the violence. But I wasn’t really surprised. This was the woman who’d hunted down the maskpol that had killed her horse. “I think I would have killed her on the spot,” Valemar said.

  His anger would have given the girl a quick death. Quicker than Daria’s. I could kind of see Reina’s wanting her to suffer, to think about what she’d done. True, it was Daria the girl had killed. Unintentionally, on all counts. But it had very nearly been Bánalfar’s queen.

  “Did they catch him?” I asked. With their shorter stature and pug-like nose, a Hormani would have stuck out as much as I did.

  “No.”

  “So we know he wasn’t a Cordair?”

  “The girl said his ears were flat like yours. That’s why she believed him.”

  “And do we know if he acted alone or with Cordair help?”

  “We don’t. But Vanerife is a long way from Rock Dorach. He would have needed assistance getting there.”

  Maybe, I thought. There were ways of getting close without Cordair help, though the risk would be greater that their craft would be spotted. The Archjarn were much more sparsely populated than most of Bánalfar. “How much did your mother tell you?” I raised my head, not wanting to hide from him if I had to do it all again — frighten someone to the core by revealing they were just an insignificant bug in the universe.

  “That you’re from the stars.” Valemar smiled. “You told me that when you gave me the spyglass. The stars — not the moon. You told me that, but I just assumed …” He closed his eyes and lightly shook his head. “Even the moon is far.”

  “About two hundred fifty thousand miles. More than three hundred fifty round trips from here to Vanerife.”

  Valemar’s eyes grew large. “Mother and Father,” he whispered. “You’re … you’re from even farther?”

  “We measured distance by the speed of light. You know how quickly a lantern illuminates a room once its shield is removed.” Valemar slowly nodded — a look of utter awe frozen on his face. “We can move thousands of times faster than that. I am from a place about twenty thousand light years away. Meaning that today’s light from your sun will reach my planet in twenty thousand years.”

  Something akin to horror crossed Valemar’s face. “How is that even possible?”

  “I don’t know exactly. I’m dismal with mechanics. That’s why I was in my room —” I broke off.

  “Oh, Astrid,” Valemar whispered. Concern replaced the shock.

  “But I do know that
the thing necessary to drive the engines — like water to a waterwheel, rowers to a barge, or wind to a sail — the fuel for those engines is being mined in the Archjarn. The Hormani will never give that up unless the Shororato —”

  “The Shororato?” Valemar asked.

  “The enforcers of law in the galaxy — all the stars you see and even the ones you can’t.” A new look of fear entered Valemar’s eyes as he stared at me. “They would stop the Hormani. They would punish the Hormani, but —” I rubbed my fingertips on his chest. “— my guess is that the trade could continue in some fashion. The chalcopyrite olivine is too precious a substance to just leave behind, and contact has already occurred.”

  “Would they continue to arm the Cordair?” Valemar asked.

  “No. And they’d take back the Awrakian armor. But trade would continue with the Cordair. That is why contact is forbidden. Your planet isn’t ready to explore. You have no way to leave your world. Your technologies are primitive compared to what’s out there.”

  “Besides being able to travel to the moon and beyond?”

  “Part of the reason I refused medicine my first night here was that I’d already injected tiny things into me that would repair the damage and help stop any allergic reactions. I wanted them to do their job without interference.”

  “She already has help.” Valemar closed his eyes. “Shale knew it when she checked you.” I shivered, and Valemar chuckled.

  “She still scares me,” I said.

  “But you believe her now?”

  I gave Valemar a wobbling head nod. “I have accepted that I may be the Moon Princess.” My lower lip began to tremble. “But that’s what got Daria killed.” Valemar stroked my face. “And I still don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

  Valemar leaned forward and kissed me. “Then it isn’t yet time.”

  “But things are getting worse. And what if they try again?” What if they killed Valemar instead? With the line of succession not settled …

  Valemar placed his lips on mine again. “Hush, my grabeg.” His words buzzed on my mouth. “You are safe here.”

  I snorted. “Right. I was so welcome the first time I was here.” And now I didn’t have Daria as my shield. My face fell. Who would dress me?

  My jaw trembled. Valemar gathered me into his arms. “Maybe they need to see a queen who can wield a blade. Maybe we should continue the training you began in Torfin.” I stiffened. “Mainly jaldun. I know you need life around you.” A breath I didn’t know I’d been holding rushed out. “And Erris is here. We can continue that. We don’t yet know what you are to do, but we should be prepared for anything.”

  I prepared myself for the arrival of my new dresser. A seldom used study attached to Valemar’s rooms had been cleared out to make space for my new dressing room. Valemar seemed as reluctant to see me housed elsewhere as I was.

  Part of me marveled at the change. My husband who had sent me hundreds of miles away now kept me closer than ever. It was as if he knew part of me just wanted to walk into the Leisna and let the water claim me. I had broken — had utterly shattered — and the prospect of putting myself back together overwhelmed me. The fulfillment of the prophecy hanging over me was like facing down a tidal wave, and I stood alone against it.

  At least I had a familiar and welcome face to dress me. Brinna sent her servant, Iree, to me. Iree stood a good six or seven inches taller than me. She had beautiful flaxen hair and a kind face. In some ways, our roles had reversed from Torfin. This time, she was the stranger and I was the one who knew their way around.

  “There you go,” she said, tying off my braid.

  I again gave thanks to Brinna. Iree had been used to my training in Torfin. I felt the back of my hair and checked my reflection. “Thank you,” I said. “Daria —” I sucked in a breath and focused instead on the request. “Can you have a bath waiting for me when I return?” I gave her an apologetic smile. “I usually come back rather messy.”

  “Not to worry, my queen. I remember.” Compassion filled her eyes.

  I squeezed her hand and made my way down to the jaldun practice room. Valemar was already there, flowing in the deadly dance that made my heart beat faster simply viewing him. So strong. So powerful. So graceful.

  So mine.

  The ancient, instinctive part of my brain always sent out breed now messages whenever I watched him flow through the graceful, deadly moves. The lower parts of me quivered, remembering how I’d had him inside of me that morning.

  As if he could sense my thoughts, Valemar gave a small chuckle and relaxed his grip his blades. “You don’t need to stand in the doorway,” he said.

  I stepped in and clasped my hands in front of me so that I wouldn’t be tempted to stroke him. “Sometimes, I just like to watch you.”

  Valemar put his blades together. “Observation is part of learning.”

  “Um hmm.” I tightened my grip.

  Valemar re-sheathed his knife and sword. He crossed to the small rack of spare blades and picked out a set for me. I walked to the center of the room and blew out a breath, then I spread my feet and bent my knees, lowering my center of gravity, and grounded my body and mind.

  Valemar came behind me and slipped the knives into my hands. Unconsciously, I leaned back, pressing myself into his embrace. Valemar bent his head and nuzzled my ear. “You need to focus.”

  “Focus. Right,” I said. His hands curled mine around the knives.

  “Become one with the blades, with the ground. You are the blades. You are the force. Defend.”

  And then he slipped back to stand against the wall.

  I am the blades. I moved into the first position then shifted my weight to begin the next. Defend.

  Attack.

  In a heartbeat, my vision clouded with an image of a smiling Hormani trader. I killed her, his smug smile seemed to say. My blades moved, I moved, to protect Daria. I was vaguely aware of the sound of Valemar shifting behind me. I kept my mind’s eye on my invisible opponent and ran through the deadly choreography as if I were the only thing that stood between him and Daria.

  Over and over, set after set, it didn’t matter. This could have been real. It might one day be real.

  “Astrid —” I sliced out, fighting off the attacker, as a hand touched my shoulder. Valemar’s I realized a moment too late.

  “Don’t —” I panted as relief flooded by body. Valemar stood, unharmed, a couple of feet away. “Don’t ever do that again.” I wasn’t sure how close I’d come to gutting him. Probably not very, but it still scared me.

  Valemar closed the space he’d created to avoid my knife. “You don’t need to kill them all today, my love.” He lifted my chin and stroked my jaw. “Besides, you still need some energy for The Shadow. Erris will not be happy if you’re panting along behind him.”

  That was true. He always hated when my heavy breathing gave him away. “Where I’m from, our soldiers train to the point of fatigue so that their endurance is increased.”

  “As do we. But one day at a time. It’s been awhile since you trained like this.”

  I lowered my eyes as the reason for that reared its ugly head. But Valemar still caught it. “I am sorry,” he said, drawing me to him.

  “I’m sorry, too.” I rested my head against his chest for a moment. “Would you have done it?” I asked. “Would you have married me if you had known that doing so would end your line?” Valemar’s arms trembled as I spoke aloud the ugly truth.

  “I don’t know,” he said, his voice a ragged whisper. “Perhaps that is why we aren’t meant to see the future.” I laughed. “What?”

  “Says the man who married me because he thought he’d seen the future.”

  “I guess all we can do then is trust.”

  Erris decided the first thing I needed to learn was how to quickly and quietly exit a boat. We went out the watergate and were rowed to shore. Erris sprang from the boat into the weeds silently, smoothly, and without causing a ripple in the water.
/>   “Frick,” I muttered.

  “What was that?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” I said as the boatman chuckled, having guessed that I’d uttered a curse of some sort. I stood on the small board in the bow and stared at the grass that bent over the bank into the water. I’d always had someone to help pull me out before. I could see me sliding right down the grass and into the water.

  “Looking at it’s not going to make it easier,” Erris said as I continued to calculate and visualize all the things that could go wrong. I could end up doing the splits and fall in. "Come on. Failure builds success.”

  I’d hated those words every time I’d heard them uttered by every coach I’d ever had. Make a fool of yourself, Astrid. It’s only by landing on your face you learn not to break your nose.

  I leaped, immediately knowing I’d put too much force onto my left foot while my right sprang for the bank. The boat shot back a good half meter as my right foot landed in then slid down the weeds. I grabbed handfuls as my momentum propelled me toward the dank, smelly edge. Erris managed to grab the back of my tunic and slam me against the bank before I could topple in. Thank God, though he was small for an Alfari, he was still larger than me.

  “All right,” he said as I gasped for air. “What did you do wrong?”

  “Too much force,” I panted as the boat bumped into the bank behind me.

  “You pushed with your whole foot. You only want your toe. It’s your center of gravity you move.”

  Now you tell me.

  Over and over, Erris had me leap from the boat, correcting my movements, never ceasing to amaze me with how he moved so much like a deer. It was only after we’d begun to attract attention — certainly not because my limbs were shaking — that we headed off into the trees and continued the work we’d begun in Torfin.

 

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