“Do you not feel it?” he asked, standing. They watched as he continued around the table, never turning from Thalassa.
“Feel it? Feel what, Ahvixx?” Danimore asked.
“The presence,” was all he said, assisting Thalassa to stand.
“Presence? Of what? Make plain your thoughts, please,” Pentanimir asked, growing more concerned than he’d allow to show.
Thalassa stepped back as Ahvixx reached toward her. He closed the gap between them, gently grasping her shoulder and resting a hand on her abdomen. She gasped, feeling the energies he emitted. At first, the heat of his touch nearly caused her to jerk away, but once the initial merge had passed, only a soothing warmth remained.
Ahvixx’s eyes brightened as he spoke words that only Thalassa could hear and understand. After several moments, they released synchronous breaths as the warmth and brightness surrounding them bedimmed.
She looked up at him with tears rimming her eyes.
“You know?” Ahvixx stated more than asked.
“Not until this very moment was it certain.”
“Certain? Ahvixx, please, what does she know that we don’t?” Pentanimir said, rising from his seat.
“This is a truth only Thalassa can tell. I can only speak of the fracture.”
“In the seal? Is that it, Ahvixx? Are you talking about the eidolon, the—the wraith?”
“I am. There’s been another shift and the time grows nearer. It has been nearly four full moons since the last progression. Your sons will soon be ready, and Mah’saahc will come.”
“This is why we’re preparing: to defeat this darkness. What does Thalassa have to do with this? What’s changed?”
Ahvixx looked at Thalassa.
“I—I’m with child,” she said in scarcely a whisper.
Pentanimir traded smiles with the others in the room, reaching for her hand. “This is news to celebrate. Why does knowing of your pregnancy sadden you?”
“There isn’t one in your womb, Thalassa, there are two,” Ahvixx said.
Thalassa dropped a hand to her small, rounding abdomen. “Two?” she breathed, struggling to contain her tears. She could hear her brothers speaking, but she couldn’t discern their words. Everything was a blur, with only Ahvixx’s words resonating in her mind.
At that moment, she wanted to flee, to escape from the truths growing inside of her. Anything to be free from her transgressions, and the living consequences of them.
“The Guardians are good, Sister,” Temian said.
When Thalassa didn’t respond, they regarded Ahvixx again.
“It is the shift. The fracture has widened,” Ahvixx said, looking from one to the other. “With each occurrence, the balance is lost. The Guardians merge to stabilize the effects, but it cannot be done until they’re aware. To one of the lands, the passage of time is mere moments before the shift is contained. To those who are affected, it isn’t so.”
“Ke’ohnzi.” The Uzon stood. “They don’t understand the fracture as we do. You must explain more if they’re to truly know. There is no condemnation. The physical manifestations of the wraith aren’t known until they are.”
“Physical?” Pentanimir asked. “Do you mean a person or—or the babes?”
“No, the babes your sister carries are unaffected by the essence of the wraith,” Ahvixx assured. “It was your sister and the sire of her children who succumbed to Mah’saahc’s influence.”
“Jahno? Will they be all right? Does the influence remain?”
“No, Zaxson. The shift is contained.”
“But you spoke of a presence,” Temian said, standing and resting his hands on Thalassa’s shoulders.
“It was merely residual. Trace elements that mean little now, and will dissipate in time. The same was felt as I made my way through the citadel. I thought they were residual energies emitted from the children. I’ve experienced the same many times in the past. Now, I know different. The proximity of the children to me wasn’t adequate for such a fervent impression. The essence radiated from one I passed, as it did when Thalassa entered.”
“Do you know from whom, Ahvixx? Was Jahno affected as well?”
“Only Thalassa and the sire of her children were affected.”
Audible gasps sounded through the room as his words penetrated. The brothers came to her side with looks of bemusement and concern covering their visage.
“The sire? If not Jahno, then who?” Pentanimir asked.
Thalassa raised her head, looking only at Ahvixx.
“You need not speak it,” Temian said, wrapping her in a tight hug. “It wasn’t you, Thalassa. It wasn’t.”
“I can’t turn from this, Temian. It will be with me always. I prayed it wouldn’t be. Even as I noticed the changes in my body, I wouldn’t believe.”
“Ahvixx?” Pentanimir pled.
“Only Thalassa can tell you of the sire.”
Pentanimir cupped her chin in his hand, raising her face to his. As he dabbed the tears from her eyes, he leaned, placing a kiss on her brow. “Please, Thalassa. We love you, all of us. Temian is right; this wasn’t you. Without this—this shift, never would you have strayed from him you love.”
“He speaks true,” Danimore said. “The only one who casts blame is you. We have all been affected by this creature. You need only look at your nephews and realize that truth. This, too, we will overcome. Never are you alone with our love covering you. Please, tell us the name; we must know.”
The pain she felt at that moment penetrated deeper than any feeling she’d ever known. Regardless of the shift, the urges she sated were hers. The influence merely brought them to the surface, forcing her to see the primal side of herself. That burn and ache she felt at Wosen’s absence still consumed her very being, intensifying her cravings. That desire remained, and scared her more than anything she could imagine, save losing her love. Losing Jahno.
Pentanimir kissed her again, moving back to his seat and motioning the others to do the same.
“It wasn’t Jahno,” she lamented. “When he left the city to deliver the parchments is when—when everything went wrong. I knew and yet could do nothing to stop myself.” She wept.
“In your own time,” Pentanimir said, handing her some cloth.
“He came to me as I trained. We—we fought, enjoying the intensity of our contest. Soon, it became much more. No longer were we sparring, it was something else, something more powerful.
“All the anger and rage and passion came forth at once. It wasn’t love, not attraction, not as one would think. It was brutal and savage, and yet, we couldn’t turn from each other. Daily we met, promising to no longer give in to such urges, and daily we shamed ourselves and the ones that we love.”
“The love you hold for your husband has always been present,” Ahvixx said. “If this were not so, you wouldn’t have been able to resist or to even question. It’s because of that love, true love, that the essence didn’t consume you.”
“How did it not? Am I not with child? Did I not betray my husband?” Her voice cracked with every word.
“This we cannot change. But you must know that had your love not been pure, the essence could’ve remained, consuming you even now. You only see your weakness, yet I know your strength. I felt it as we merged, Thalassa. Because of this, you didn’t fully succumb to the pleasure you shared with another. The pain that you both craved.”
The siblings traded glances at his choice of words.
“The betrayal…”
Her words stopped abruptly as Ahvixx shared his energies, calming her thoughts. She stared at the glimmer in his eyes, releasing a staggered breath.
“I told him that we could no longer meet. I meant the words, but even as I spoke them, I regretted saying it.”
“Did you hold true to what you spoke?” Ahvixx asked, already knowing the answer.
“Yes,” she murmured. “Though, not soon enough. Not soon enough.”
Ahvixx reached across the table, taking her
hand in his. “Who fathered your children?”
Thalassa raised her eyes to his, clutching his offered hand. “Wosen.”
Hidden Places
“Symeon has promoted him,” Beilzen said, massaging Dalia’s shoulders. “Even with his extensive duties, he makes time for our son. Fáelán will soon be awarded a sword of his own, and Symeon is complimentary of his dedication and skill. Mayhaps soon he’ll learn to use two swords.”
Dalia smiled. “Could be, if two swords would be enough for a Chosen as fierce as our son. He’s trained hard and well for one his age. Symeon often speaks of his fondness for Fáelán. The pride you show in him only increases his determination. He tries hard to please you, Beilzen.”
“This he’s done since the beginning. Never have I been prouder than when he first came to me. To learn of a son when I thought such a blessing forever removed. Since that first day, my love and pride have only grown.”
“That’s obvious for all to see. Fáelán is fortunate to have you as a father.”
“And you as a mother,” Beilzen said, massaging lower.
It was pleasing to feel the full warmth of the sun after the long cold season. The gardens would forever hold a special meaning to the two. Here was where their friendship began and where their love blossomed. Not a day passed that they didn’t take noon meal there, when the weather allowed. After kissing her cheek, he lowered a hand to her rounding womb, caressing.
“And what about this one?” Beilzen asked. “Will he, too, be a Chosen of Nazil?”
“He?” Dalia said with feigned protest. “You presume much. Mayhaps the Guardians have blessed us with a daughter. Already we have Fáelán. Do you not want a daughter as well?”
“If her beauty matches that of her mother.” He smiled. “I welcome whatever blessing the Guardians might bestow. Never did we think to have any children but Fáelán. They’ve been good to us, Dalia, beyond measure. If we have a daughter, I’m certain that she’ll be well spoiled, much like her brother.”
She giggled. “Aislin,” Dalia said.
“Aislin?”
“Yes. If we have a daughter. I’ve always thought the name lovely.”
“It is a beautiful name.”
“Hasina, after your mother as well. And if we have another son, Perrin, for your father.”
“My father? That would be a great honor. Both my parents would be pleased either way.”
“And you, husband. Are you pleased?”
“Like no other,” he said, reaching for her laces. Slipping a hand inside, he gently caressed, tickling her neck with the tip of his tongue. Dalia leaned into him, gliding a hand between his thighs. Beilzen softly moaned, whispering her name. As his arousal peaked, a familiar laugh halted their movement.
They rose up, attempting to see over the tall bushes. Noticing Perrin and Hushar approaching hand-in-hand, they smiled, standing to greet them.
When Perrin saw his son and daughter-in-law, he blushed, clearing his throat.
“I—I hope we didn’t disturb your privacy,” Perrin said.
Beilzen peered behind them, noting his father’s ruffled clothing and the grass in Hushar’s hair. “It appears that we may have disturbed yours. I believe your arrival was before ours.”
Perrin chuckled, nervously. “Indeed. The time must have gotten away from us.”
“Yes. Yes. I think it has,” Hushar said, giggling like a young girl. “Mayhaps we should return and tend to our duties. With both Thalassa and Sahma with child, there’s much to do.”
“Hushar, allow me to help.” Dalia doddered forward, as Beilzen hurried to her side, offering his support.
“No, this is your day of rest. You assist in the nursery more than anyone. I’ll ask Ceron to come and help. Enjoy your time with your husband.”
“Are you certain? It’s no trouble for me, and I enjoy the children so.”
“I’m certain. Perrin will see me to the nursery, will you not?” Hushar said, squeezing his hand.
“Never would I leave a beautiful lady unattended.”
Beilzen’s heart warmed, observing his father’s playful nature. Not since his mother was alive had he seen him this happy. For the first time in years, both men of House de Braose knew happiness. What was even more remarkable, was the forgiveness Hushar offered him. After the cruelty he’d shown to her, still she loved his father and forgave him.
“Will you join us for evening meal?” Beilzen asked.
“I would love to, but I need to stay in the citadel tonight,” Hushar said. “If the invitation yet stands on the morrow, it would be my pleasure.”
“The invitation is offered whenever you’d desire it,” Perrin said.
“Then, I shall see you all on the morrow.”
Eithrig
“Shouldn’t you be with your wife, Jarin? I can meet with Lord Thaon and then speak with the council.”
Jarin waved dismissively, refilling his cup. “Gwendolyn has no need of me. This meeting is of greater importance.”
“I don’t believe that your wife would feel the same. Nevertheless, I’ll speak no more of it. You’re a man grown and will make your own decisions…and mistakes.”
Jarin stared over at him until the door to the meeting chamber opened. Aronin moved slowly into the room, assisting Eithrig.
“It’s good to see you, Lord Raynes,” Jarin said, pulling out a cushioned chair. “Thank you for coming. We would have come to your home.”
“No. It was past time for me to leave my bed. I can’t grow stronger having Shyla catering to me. I need to stretch my legs and breathe the air of Yarah once more.”
“Indeed. I’m glad to see you out again,” Urdan said, gazing over to the wounded man. Eithrig was never large, but he was always toned and fit. Now, his skin appeared to sag, and his face was sunken. Dark circles surrounded his pale eyes that seemed only half-open, and though his hair had begun to grow again, it was patchy and thin. Urdan could only shake his head, saddened at the state of the once-handsome young man.
“Is there any more that you can tell us?” Urdan asked. “I know that you’re still healing, but if you can recall additional details, it could be of great assistance.”
“I’ve had nothing but time awaiting my leg to heal, but I can’t recall anything else. Molag wanted everyone to know that he’d perpetrated the attack,” Eithrig said, wiping sweat from his brow.
Urdan flinched, noticing the crooked fingers that had been broken during the vicious attack.
“What about their voices?” Jarin asked. “Did you recognize any of them?”
“No. I heard them, but it was as a distant memory warped by time. They did as Molag commanded. And—and—” He shook his head.
“Tell them, Eithrig. Tell them what you told me.”
“No one will believe, Aronin, just as you didn’t believe, but my eyes didn’t show false. Even with the passing of the seasons, it remains unchanged.
“Molag, he—he isn’t the same as he was. The Zaxson speaks true. There was something else, something more powerful, it seemed. Evil.”
Urdan and Jarin exchanged a look. “Evil? What’s that to mean?”
“His eyes, Caretaker,” Aronin said. “Molag’s eyes appeared to shift or change.”
“How?” Jarin asked. “How is such a thing possible?”
“It’s possible because my cousin is right. Pentanimir warned us of this darkness within Molag. The council scoffed, but he was right. I don’t doubt Eithrig or Pentanimir. Molag went to Sanctium, and when he returned, he wasn’t the same.”
“Even if we believe such stories, what does it mean?” Urdan asked.
“It means that we’re in more danger than we believed. Already Molag has attacked a Chosen guard and left him for dead. The half-human priest saved his life, and now, Nigel hides in the citadel, petrified to face Molag again. He also killed the former Cha Asham. Each time Molag attacks, he leaves the burn on the chest of his victims. Molag knows how to wield a sword, but he was no match for Nigel
Branston. I trained with him in Yarah and know of his prowess.”
“All right…all right,” Urdan conceded. “What about this shift?”
“Molag’s eyes,” Aronin continued. “They weren’t pale like the Nazilians, not always. Eithrig, you said they whited completely over, and when they did, his strength increased. Molag has forever been a nasty sort, but even he couldn’t have committed such monstrous acts.”
Urdan glanced at Eithrig, seeing him nodding with every word. “Then what are we to do? The guards are stretched thin as it is. No one knows where Molag is hiding, and many are still shielding him from capture.”
“I’ve already made a move in that direction,” Aronin said.
“Move? What move?” Jarin asked.
“The Jasiri.”
“The warriors the Zaxson recruited?”
“One and the same.”
“Aronin, we agreed not to include such men in this search,” Urdan said. “The people of Yarah won’t be pleased. There are no humans residing in the village, not anymore. We can’t bring these men here, not even in aid to us. What little support we do have will dwindle when more learn of this.”
“On this, we don’t agree. All we have learned is where Molag has been, not where he is. The information gathered only leads us to him after the fact. I’ve learned about these Jasiri and know they’ll be of great assistance. Albeit, my cousin believes as you, but I pray he has a change of mind.”
“To what end, Lord Thaon?”
“To the end of Molag Bomgaard!” Aronin said, louder than he’d intended. “The Jasiri are already here, yet no one has taken notice. They’re patrolling the wood and the borders of Nazil alike.”
“No guard has reported seeing them,” Jarin said.
For the first time since the meeting began, Aronin smiled. “This is what makes them Jasiri.”
“They’re here, Aronin?”
“Indeed. Soon Molag will be apprehended.”
Eithrig nodded with a crooked, pained smile.
Before Urdan could protest, there was a light tapping on the door. He sighed, moving to answer it.
“Do you have need of me, my wife?” Urdan said.
“No. It’s our son that I need.”
“Me?” Jarin’s brow knitted, walking to the door. “You need me, Mother?”
The Rise of Nazil- Complete Epic Fantasy Trilogy Page 154