Sworn To Ascension: Courtlight #6

by Terah Edun

  “How?” she said with shaking hands.

  “Only you can solve that problem,” Christian murmured while tucking an errant strand of her hair back behind her ear.

  Noticing the tremors, Ciardis quickly shoved her shaking hands under her armpits and hugged herself quietly.

  “Why is this happening to me?” she whispered to herself. “I mean, I understand the emotional effects. Even the mental ones. But the tremors, the ache, those shouldn’t be there.”

  “Because,” said Christian as he rubbed her arms up and down to stimulate warmth into her suddenly cold body, “you’re going through shock.”

  “Shock?” she asked through chattering teeth. “I’m suddenly so cold that I feel like I’m back in the middle of the north. But I’m not. There’s no snowbanks surrounding me and very little chill in the air. No one else but me is acting like this.”

  Panting, Ciardis looked at Christian with wide eyes. “Tell me the truth. Am I going crazy?”

  “No,” he said, “you’re just going through the withdrawal effects of being separated from the two individuals who represent the other thirds of your seeleverbindung ... and what’s more, you’re going through those withdrawal symptoms at a much more rapid pace than I previously thought possible.”

  “Why?” she managed to ask through chattering teeth.

  “I think it’s because they both blocked you from their presences and minds after your earlier conversation,” Christian said as he stilled his hands and muttered some things to himself that she didn’t catch.

  “But you don’t know that?” she asked.

  “No, but I know how to find out,” he said while backing away.

  “Wait, where are you going?” Ciardis asked.

  “I need to get a memory ball before we leave,” Christian said tersely. “That should help with your predicament as we travel along. Well, that and discussing this with S—”

  She gave him a pointed look, and he shut his mouth with a click of his teeth.

  “If you were about to say Sebastian and Thanar,” Ciardis said through pursed lips, “they can rot in hell.”

  Christian looked at her. “I was, but perhaps now is not the best time to mention this. When it gets worse, however....”

  “Worse?” she cried. “How much worse could it get?”

  He looked at her. “From what I’ve heard ... a lot.”

  She sighed and shook her head. “Just ... hurry. Anything that would help that doesn’t involve me speaking to those two idiots would be appreciated.”

  Christian nodded. “I’ll be on my way, then.”

  “Just tell me one thing before you go.”

  “What is it?” he asked as he backed away from her toward the door.

  Ciardis shook her head slightly and raised her hands helplessly. “Why am I the only one that seems to be affected by this?”

  Christian’s lips thinned. “They’re affected, trust me. They’re just better at not showing it.”

  “You’re sure? You saw something or they came to you?” Ciardis said breathlessly. She wasn’t being vindictive, but it felt a little less like this was all in her head when she thought that Sebastian and Thanar were going through the same symptoms of withdrawal ... mood swings, frayed tempers, self-doubt.

  “Yes,” Christian said staunchly. “I’m certain.”

  She nodded and turned away to look back at the window.

  Over her cold shoulders, she heard Christian call back to her, “And Ciardis?”

  She half turned and looked over her shoulder. “Yes?”

  “Pack lighter clothes,” he said as he started to head out the door.

  She blinked. “I’m freezing my ass off right now and it’s barely raining. Are you sure?”

  “Where we’re going, you’ll wish you had layers to strip yourself of as the heat burns your bones and the desert sand flies into your face,” cautioned Christian as he left.

  Ciardis sighed. “Sounds like heaven.”

  And she wasn’t being facetious there. She felt as cold as a frost giant in the middle of a winter lake.

  Deciding that now would be the time to get that packing done, she turned to leave the empty room behind.

  “Wait,” called Lillian.

  Ciardis startled. She hadn’t realized anyone had remained behind, and she was certain she had seen her mother’s guards leave with everyone else.

  But she turned and there she was. Her mother stood near one of the windows, where a particularly colorful patch of sunshine streamed in from the stained glass windows in the yard.

  “Your guards,” Ciardis said as she forced her teeth to stop chattering and lowered her hands from their harsh grips on her upper arms. “They’re gone.”

  In her mind she chanted a mantra: It’s all in your head, Ciardis. You’re not freezing. You’re not even cold.

  She decided it wasn’t working when she felt her lips start to chap, and thought, Yeah, tell that to my frostbitten bum.

  “Waiting outside,” Lillian said dismissively. “I’ve paid them for a few minutes of privacy.”

  Ciardis raised her eyebrows. “Are you allowed to do that?”

  Lillian chortled. “With enough money, you can do anything, my dear. Remember that. Believe me, they are compensated well enough for this and other small favors.”

  Ciardis eyed her suspiciously. “Compensated enough to allow you to go free?”

  “Oh, never that high,” Lillian said cheerily, “but more than enough to bring me fresh meals and clean clothes, and give me little freedoms. As long as I am happy in my gilded cage, so are they.”

  Ciardis was impressed. Leave it to her mother to hire her own jailers.

  Trying to ignore her own discomfort, she said to her mother, “I’ll need to go pack, mother. Lots to get ready for the journey. Perhaps you could join me?”

  “My freedoms only extend so far dear,” Lillian said with a grimace. “Certain parts of the palace are magical, and they wouldn’t want me escaping, now would they?”

  “Of course not,” murmured Ciardis. She felt a little bit more in control of her emotions now. Much less unstable and weepy, but that also meant she was much less inclined to extend her appearance in Lillian’s presence. They were mother and daughter, but they didn’t tend to get along, not least because Ciardis had just learned the woman was her mother less than three weeks ago and had hated her guts long before that.

  Lillian smiled and looked out the window.

  Irritated, Ciardis said, “Well, I really should be going. Particularly since the majority of my cold-weather clothes will not be welcome there. I must find something to wear.”

  Lillian smiled and grasped Ciardis’s hand hanging down at her waist. “Don’t worry about that.”

  Ciardis raised curious eyebrows. “I have about six cloaks and no thin dresses to wear. I think it’s time to worry.”

  “It has been taken care of,” Lillian said pleasantly. “It’s the least I could do. Your wardrobe will be ready.”

  Ciardis restrained herself from questioning how or why or even which tailor her mother had cajoled into crafting the outfits in such a short amount of time.

  Instead she said, “Then what is it that you would like to talk about?”

  “You know Ciardis,” her mother said, “just as I can persuade my guards to my side....”

  You mean manipulate and bribe, Ciardis thought.

  “...so can you with your own allies,” Lillian continued.

  Ciardis halted and swallowed harshly. “Please speak plainly, as we have little time for word games.”

  “Very well,” Lillian said in a brisk tone. “Let me be frank, Ciardis. You are a Weathervane and you are my daughter. You can’t let these two males slip from between your fingers like a callow girl.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ciardis said through clenched teeth.

  “I think you do,” snapped Lillian.

  “I just got engaged,” Ciardis said. “No one is slipp
ing through my fingers, and quite frankly I think we have more important things to worry about at the moment.”

  Lillian laughed. “I was playing this game long before you, dear, so don’t try to bluff me. They barely acknowledged you and you wouldn’t look either of them in the face.”

  “Fine, mother,” sputtered Ciardis. “We’re going through some difficulties. I fail to see how this is your concern.”

  “Tsk tsk, daughter,” Lillian said. “It is always a concern when one of my children is failing.”

  “In love or life?” snapped Ciardis.

  Lillian abruptly dropped her grip and stepped forward until the skirts of her dress overlapped with her daughter’s.

  “If you lose either one of them,” Lillian hissed, “you lose not only your rank at court—”

  “That’s all you care about!” cried Ciardis. “Pride of place and prominence.”

  “That is not what is going on here,” said Lillian. “Your court rank could—”

  But Ciardis wasn’t hearing her, and she certainly didn’t let her mother finish her tirade. She stepped back and spoke in an incensed manner: “Is that why you befriended the empress? In order to mooch off her connections? Maybe she was right ... maybe you were jealous of her relationship with Sebastian’s father.”

  Lillian’s hand came up so fast that Ciardis didn’t see it coming. Lillian slapped her across the face soundly enough that she reeled back in pain and shock.

  “Don’t you ever speak of my relationship with the former empress in that tone and manner again,” hissed Lillian. “That is none of your concern.”

  Ciardis sank down to her knees, feeling lost, and looked up at her mother.

  Yet she wouldn’t apologize. She knew that she had gone over the line, but she didn’t feel regret. Just a simmering anger inside her. Anger at everyone and everything that was tearing her in two.

  Then Lillian took a deep breath and knelt down in front of Ciardis with her skirts spread wide around her.

  “Ciardis, let us forget this talk of court now. I only brought it up because I fear for your safety with enemies at every turn,” Lillian said.

  “But—”

  “But let me finish,” said Lillian sharply.

  Ciardis fell silent.

  “But it’s more than the political enemies that you are amassing that worries me. It’s the nature of your gifts and the deep ties to these two gentlemen you have formed, when either can crush you with that same bond.”

  Ciardis watched her silently. Waiting for her to continue.

  “I have never been graced with a soul bond,” Lillian said quietly, “but I know of its legendary effects ... a union so powerful that nothing can come between the bond mates. But in all the stories, the bond mates who made it to that level of union all did so with great suffering and trials beforehand.”

  Ciardis let her hand lower slowly to her lap. “What are you saying, mother?”

  “That I have no idea what you’re going through, but I can guess,” said Lillian with a tired look. She was too well bred to rub her brow, but Ciardis got the feeling that she wanted to.

  Ciardis felt her heart soften a bit. Here was someone to talk to. Here was someone who might understand her pain.

  “The emotions, my emotions,” said Ciardis in a choked voice, “they swing back and forth with such volatility that I don’t even feel like myself anymore, mother.”

  Lillian gave her a sad smile. “But you are no longer yourself.”

  Ciardis looked at her in confusion.

  Lillian reached forward and took her hands. “You are more than just you now, Ciardis Weathervane. And if you had let me finish earlier, I would’ve said that something more frightens the court and the emperor himself. As long as you’re bonded to the two men in your life the three of you are protected, nothing can touch you, not while you’re working together.”

  “Working together?” asked Ciardis miserably. “I don’t think we’ve ever been able to work together.”

  “What I saw in the emperor’s private chamber was the power of an unstoppable triumvirate,” Lillian said in a patient voice. “The power of a unified team that was unlike anything I have ever seen.”

  “It was a fluke,” Ciardis mumbled. “I was furious at the emperor’s treatment of you. I thought you were half dead.”

  “It’s that fury that you need to learn to control, to call upon, and use against your enemies,” Lillian said.

  “How?” choked out Ciardis. “When I can’t even make peace with the two I’m bonded with? Permanently, might I add.”

  “By doing whatever it takes,” Lillian said firmly. “I’m not speaking as your mother or your sponsor here, Ciardis. I’m speaking as a citizen of this empire. Without the three of you, I fear what would come.”

  Ciardis searched her mother’s eyes and squeezed her hands. “Why, Lillian? What do you know that I don’t? Why have you always trusted Thanar?”

  “Trusted him?” Lillian said with a bark of laughter. “I never trusted him. What I understand is his nature. The daemoni nature.”

  “Chaos embodied?” Ciardis said in a caustic voice.

  “Loyal ... loyal and protective of their bonded mates,” Lillian said. “I ... suspected that he was fascinated with you on the northern plains. Now I’ve confirmed it.”

  “That’s no basis to build a relationship,” said Ciardis. “He’s a mass murderer.”

  “A mass murderer that you’re bonded to permanently, as you so helpfully added,” Lillian snapped. “There is no way to sever this bond, Ciardis, but you can manage it and capitalize on it.”

  Ciardis shook off her hands in disgust. “I’m not sure what is more revolting to me ... your practical nature or my acquiescence.”

  Lillian stood and helped her daughter rise. “Do what you have to do, Ciardis. Fix what has been broken while you journey to Kifar. For our sakes and for yours.”

  With that, Lillian Weathervane exited the atrium with guards following behind, leaving her daughter to stand alone in a room filled with sunlight, her mind shadowed in darkness.

  Chapter 17

  For a few moments Ciardis enjoyed the quiet of the room. But it wasn’t long before her thoughts were disturbed, not by one of her friends this time, but by a male servant.

  “Miss,” wheezed the old man.

  Ciardis turned to him politely and raised her eyebrows as she waited for him to speak.

  He let out a wet cough that didn’t sound so good, and then said, “The others in your party say they’re ready to go, lady.”

  Ciardis blinked. “Already?”

  The old man shuffled his feet. It wasn’t really a question that needed to be answered.

  Her voice a little forlorn, Ciardis hurried to reassure him, “Yes, of course. I’ll be right there.”

  She turned away as she waited for him to leave, and took the chance to take in the splendidly appointed room with thin glass panes, rich brocades, and sumptuous furniture. Ciardis sighed. It wasn’t that she would really miss the empress’s palace or Sandrin itself. But she would miss the stability of having a home and warm place to sleep at night.

  Whatever else happened on this trip, she knew they would be sleeping rough. She just hoped they could find adequate shelter along the way. She’d have to ask one of the others about their plans for that, though.

  The man cleared his throat behind her and she almost jumped. She’d assumed he had left.

  Turning, Ciardis asked, “Yes?”

  “Will that be all, princess heir?” the man said.

  “Lady will do,” Ciardis quickly corrected. “And yes.”

  She wasn’t a princess heir. Not yet.

  Not ever, with the way my relationship is going now, she thought.

  He bowed and backed out of the room. Not acknowledging her correction but not fighting her about it either.

  With her arms folded tightly across her chest and her lip between her teeth, Ciardis walked out of the palace for the last time and
took a look at the waiting staging area.

  Servants were busy transferring half a dozen knapsacks to a wagon-like contraption. All around them trunks stood open to the wind, their lids on the ground and their interiors empty of everything but scraps of fabric.

  “What’s this?” Ciardis asked as she walked up to Terris, who was conferring alongside with Vana.

  “To be more discreet, we had to get rid of the train of wagons and re-shift our materials to a stagecoach and the pack animals,” Terris said as she gestured to a carter to put the bags on the last mule in line.

  “Ah,” Ciardis said without waiting for further explanation. “So you downsized.”

  “Exactly!” Terris said with a pleased smile. “All clothes formerly in trunks were repacked in knapsacks, and each person was limited to one small carry sack.”

  Ciardis let a noncommittal murmur issue from her lips.

  “And how many people are journeying with us?”

  “In total, twelve,” Vana said while eyeing the servants tossing knapsacks from a large pile in the center of the courtyard across to the stagecoach through an organized line.

  “And those are?” Ciardis asked.

  Terris listed them: “Yourself. Thanar. Sebastian. Me. Christian. Four imperial guards. One wagon driver. One water mage.”

  “Wait, a water mage?” Ciardis said incredulously. “I thought we were journeying to a desert.”

  “And we’ll need him,” Terris said patiently. “Trust me. When we run out of water and need him to divine where the nearest source of fresh water is with a dowsing rod, you’ll be glad he came along.”

  Ciardis nodded and waved her hand. “And the last person?”

  Vana said ominously, “The shaman.”

  Ciardis cursed. “I forgot about him.”

  Terris laughed. “I think we all did, luckily Companion Hibblebottom remembered and sent a guild servant to make sure we were picking up our prized guide to the artifact.”

  “Thank the gods,” Ciardis muttered. “Where are they?”

  Terris nodded to something behind her. “With Thanar—it was him who found them and brought them to the palace early this morning.”

  “So that’s where he was,” Ciardis muttered to herself. “Why couldn’t he just say that?”