Nevia knew what he meant. Women were forbidden to enter the Senate hall, and the few slaves awake and about would notice at once if a woman broke that sacred taboo.
“I will be at the side of the hall, watching you through the archway.” She turned her face and kissed his hand. “Do not even think of flirting with him.”
“My snowflake, it is you he is in love with, not me.” Melenius’s laughter was sweet to Nevia’s elements. “Why would he flirt with me?”
“Because, having once been fucked by you, he must want more.” Nevia nestled into Melenius’s arms.
Melenius’s uncomfortable silence alerted Nevia at once.
“What did he say?” Her demand quivered in the air.
“He said that I gave the best ass-fucking he’d ever had.” The admission clearly embarrassed Melenius.
Nevia relaxed. She had assumed that Melenius would be the best Garalach had ever had. Melenius’s gorgeous cock was larger than any pleasure slave’s she had ever seen, and his skill in using it was incredible. Just remembering his recent taking of her made Nevia wet again.
“You’re not jealous, are you?” Melenius pressed Nevia more closely to his side.
“Of course I am.” Nevia gave a teasing caress to Melenius’s cock. “But I am yours. He isn’t. I am your wife, the mother of your child. Garalach—”
“Was just the means to work out my fury at your supposed betrayal.” Melenius dropped a kiss on the top of Nevia’s head. “He was nothing more to me, and he never will be. As for his idiotic attempts to woo you away from me, well, I used to think he was an intelligent man. To think that any fawning protestations of desperate love would win you, my snowflake – he never knew you at all.”
Nevia did not speak again during the ride to the Senate. She lay against Melenius, listening to the even beat of his heart and the steady pulse of his winds.
Melenius helped Nevia down from the litter, and he raised her hand to his lips. “Wait here by the northern archway. It is least likely to be observed, and I will make sure we are nearby.” Her fires snaked from his arms to her hand as he held it. “And if you behave badly in front of Garalach, you will be in enormous trouble.”
Nevia laughed in her airs. By promising her such a response, he was drawing her on to taunt Garalach, and she rejoiced that this should be so.
She slipped to the nearest pillar and looked into the Senate building. She saw Garalach there, with Melenius, gorgeous in Faror silver and burgundy, beside him. Nevia kept silent, listening to their conversation. They spoke in Lorin, and the half-dozen slaves around them could not understand. She also noticed that only one of the slaves was a Senate slave; the other five wore the scarlet and grey of the Kelar clan. Belamal must have sent them back with Garalach to take charge of the artifacts.
“I have here some of the spoils that Belamal—” Garalach got no further, and Nevia smiled.
“You have more gall than intelligence.” Melenius’s elements echoed with his displeasure. “How dare you summon me here from my wife’s bed, you who tried to divide her from me by deceiving me, by tricking me into fucking you!”
“I’m sorry.” Nevia was appalled at Garalach’s lack of backbone. “I couldn’t help myself.”
“What?” The roar of Melenius’s winds was lost on the watching slaves, but Nevia was pleased to see Garalach step back for a moment.
“Listen, please.” Garalach’s waters were muddied by his earth, and Nevia leaned forward. She did not trust him, not at all.
“I am listening.” Melenius did not relax.
“I’ve loved Nevia—”
“Lady Firin to you.”
Garalach nodded. “I have loved her since the first moment I saw her. How could I not? She is fire become ice; she is the beauty of the earth in spring. You understand. I know you do.”
“Understand that my wife is irresistible? Yes.” Melenius darted a glance at her, and Nevia’s flames rose up in response.
“And I didn’t think that you were suited to her. You’re my friend, Melenius, but how could you – how could anyone? – deserve the perfection that is Lady Nevia?”
“Lady Firin.”
“Yes. I thought that you would be too rough for her, too Faror even.”
“My wife likes my Faror ways.” Again Melenius looked at her, and he gleamed with her Fire. His Air in her answered.
“Anyway, can you imagine then, how it would feel to see her given to someone else?” Garalach’s waters pleaded with Melenius. “To know that you can never have her? To see her beauties and never taste them? It would drive you to madness and folly, too.”
Melenius’s elements cleared at Garalach’s words, and Nevia understood at that moment one of the reasons she loved her husband. He stood there, towering over Garalach, large, proud, and magnificent. The same easy magnanimity, the same lavish nobility of nature that placed him so far above Garalach had allowed Garalach to deceive him. Melenius was so far above treachery that it never occurred to him to suspect it. Melenius was as he appeared to be. His wild maleness, his virility, his passion, all were there, openly displayed. He hid nothing. He did not lie or plot or connive. It was utterly unlike anything Nevia had ever known, and she could never love Melenius enough for it.
“I do understand.” Melenius smiled in his airs. “And I can even forgive you. You didn’t keep my Nevia from me, and she is not touched by anything you have done.” He laughed. “After all, I have Nevia. I can afford to be generous.”
“You have everything,” said Garalach. “Will you help me then with these artifacts? There is some air-enchantment on this that I cannot understand.”
Nevia saw it then, saw the gleam of hate run through Garalach’s earth like magma. She did not speak or think or hesitate. She ran.
She had intended to run, but her feet never touched the Senate’s marble floor. She was flying, skimming over the ground on Melenius’s winds. She flew more swiftly than she could ever have run, and she was between Melenius and Garalach within the space of a breath. She knocked from Garalach’s gloved hand the gilded feather he held.
“He wanted to kill you, husband.” Nevia pressed Melenius’s hand. “Your death is in his waters.”
Chapter Eighteen
The Senate slaves gasped at the sight of a female inside the building, and Melenius stared at Nevia. “What are you talking about?” Her hand was ice, but her fires roared like an inferno.
Nevia did not shift her cold gaze from Garalach’s face. “Garalach wants you dead. His hate is clear as the summer sun.” She stuck her finger in her mouth and sucked on its tip. When she pulled it out to check it, Melenius could see that it was bleeding, cut by the gilded feather.
Garalach’s waters lay bare before Melenius. “Nevia, how could you think such a thing? I love you. You know that.”
“And you think to win my favor by killing my husband?”
Melenius looked from Nevia to Garalach and back again. He and Nevia had talked about this, about Garalach’s deceit, about his secret love for Nevia. They had worked through it, but here the matter was staring them in the face again.
“It is not I who am trying to injure anyone.” Garalach moved forward, his feet gliding through the marble of the floor, a clear sign that his powerful elements were at hand, ready to be wielded. “Melenius gave me the feather the night we coupled. I was bringing it back to him, along with these other items.”
Shock ran through Melenius’s earth. Garalach must have been desperate for Nevia’s affections. This lie was as bold as ever he had heard.
“Nevia?” Melenius squeezed Nevia’s hand, trying to break her death-stare with Garalach.
Nevia’s eyes iced over completely, and her flesh grew so cold that had he not bonded with her, Melenius would have been obliged to release her. Something was coming from deep within Nevia’s elements. Did she believe Garalach? With him standing right there reminding her of the sex he had had with Melenius, which emotion would win out? Jealousy or love?
Garalach cried out as he flew backwards through the air. He crashed against the far wall, and Melenius was sure Garalach would have been killed had he not cushioned the impact with his waters. Steam rose up around him, flowing from his mouth and his fingertips. Nevia had set a fire in his flesh, and Garalach was counteracting it.
Melenius’s head spun, and his knees gave way. Flames washed over him, and though they did not harm him, his knees buckled in disorientation. His head rang as if he had been shouting with a metal bucket on his head. Something was terribly wrong in his elements. No – Nevia’s elements. He turned and found Nevia collapsed on the marble tiles.
“What is wrong, my darling snowflake?” Melenius cradled her head in his arms and positioned himself so that she might recline against his lap.
Nevia’s breath was short. “My elements rebound upon me.”
“I feel it. What is happening?”
But Nevia did not have to answer. Melenius knew. She had been right. Garalach had tried something, and she had prevented it.
“Are you all right?” Melenius asked.
Nevia nodded, though her skin was pallid, her eyelids heavy. “Just need to rest for a while.”
Melenius’s winds blew through him like an avenging cyclone. His hair floated all around him, and the slaves nearby stepped back. Gently he laid Nevia down, and when he rose, his fury mounted like an inexorable storm. Garalach needed to be taught a lesson once and for all. This would be the last time he would meddle in their relationship.
“I don’t know what you did, old friend.” The words were bitten into chunks by Melenius’s wrath. “But my wife is too cunning for you.”
Garalach stood across the Senate floor, his feet planted firmly in the marble, his hair crashing down around his shoulders like a mighty cataract.
“All is fair.” Garalach shot a glance at Nevia.
He wrapped Melenius’s limbs up in his earth and pulled him to the ground. With a dramatic swishing motion of his hand, Garalach opened a chasm in the middle of the Senate floor. Marble cracked and exploded, and the earth quaked, knocking over marble busts of famous senators and generals. The slaves were thrown off balance and fell into the chasm, perishing within the grinding earth.
Melenius struggled against the bonds of earth, but he could not free himself. Garalach was far too strong, too well-practiced, and Melenius knew he would already be dead were it not for the fact that Garalach was still fighting the lingering effects of Nevia’s fiery blast within him.
Earth ripped at Melenius, twisting his limbs and constricting his body, and as he fell deeper into the trench, his ribs shattered. He would die, and Garalach would be free to do whatever he wanted with Nevia.
The thought of leaving Nevia alone with Garalach injected renewed vigor into the storms that had grown silent around Melenius. With fresh winds, Melenius struggled against Garalach’s earth just enough to hover above the chasm. Nevia was sitting up, propped against the opposite wall, far enough from the hole in the middle of the Senate floor that Melenius felt he did not have to worry too much about her. She held her head in her hands, but though her elements were still disoriented, Melenius could see that her eye was sharp.
Garalach stalked forward, gilding as he waded through the marble. His earth crushed in closer, burying Melenius up to the neck, immobilizing him in mid-air. Melenius’s winds grew calm right before the end, still like the silence in a mausoleum.
“I didn’t want to fight you, Melenius.” Garalach’s earth did not release its tight grip.
Just one step closer, Melenius thought. Let me feel your breath.
“Your betrayal wounds me,” Garalach said. Then he looked to Nevia. “Help me overcome this bully, this brute. He cannot understand my delicate feelings for you, but I would prove myself to you!”
Garalach stood right below Melenius, but not close enough for Melenius’s elements to work.
Nevia moved around the far end of the trench and came to stand near Garalach. She looked up at Melenius with blue, unfeeling eyes.
“Yes, Nevia,” Garalach said. “Melenius is too possessive. He just wants to control you. But you are Akara! You are no man’s slave, no man’s property.”
“You are right, Garalach, of course.” Nevia stood shoulder to shoulder with him, and Melenius wondered if she would add her fires to Garalach’s earth. Did she actually swallow his lies? “There is only one problem with your analysis.”
Garalach ripped his gaze from Melenius and looked Nevia full in the face. “What is that?”
“I give myself to him, just as he gives to me. This is something you will never understand.” And with that she took half a step back and shoved Garalach forward.
He was close enough. Melenius caught the invisible billows of Garalach’s breath and traced the element back to its source – his lungs. He reached into his tutor’s body and sucked all the air out, leaving Garalach gasping on his knees.
Garalach’s earth released Melenius at once. Melenius floated to the floor, his feet only brushing against the shattered marble.
I love you, Melenius mouthed to Nevia, and she smiled in her airs.
“I have no intention of killing you, Garalach.” Melenius was thrilled to see his erstwhile friend’s pale Skenje flesh turning purple. “Despite your shenanigans, you’ve failed. For the sake of our former friendship, I’ll leave you alive.”
Garalach clawed at his throat and made choking sounds, but he murdered Melenius with his eyes.
“You shall leave Nirrion, forever,” Melenius said, his winds echoing his command.
Garalach nodded, his tongue hanging out of his mouth, his body trembling in agony. Melenius released him, allowing air to rush back into Garalach’s lungs. Garalach doubled over on the floor, dragging in long, ragged breaths. After some time, he made an unbalanced attempt to get to his feet. Just as he raised his head and opened his mouth to speak, his words morphed into a scream. His hair evaporated in a shower of steam, and his tunic burst into flames.
Melenius locked eyes with his wife. “Nevia!”
Frost coated her skin.
Garalach’s scream brought Melenius around again. He watched as his tutor was incinerated from the inside out. When Garalach’s body had fallen to ash and his bones were scattered across the ruin of the Senate chamber, Melenius could still hear his scream carried on the winds.
“And your death shall be your exit,” Nevia said with a trembling voice. “Chiel’s bright eyes will now burn you hotter than I ever could.”
Nevia vomited.
Melenius was at her side as quick as his air could carry him. His shock at Garalach’s sudden and unexpected death did not keep him from attending to his wife.
“The baby?”
Nevia shook her head. “My elements. Feeding back on themselves, nauseating me.”
Melenius looked back to where what remained of Garalach lay. “Why?”
“I am my father’s daughter, and I have learned his lessons well. Never leave an enemy alive when you have the chance to eliminate him.” Nevia’s eyes searched Melenius’s face. “But you are injured.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Nothing?” Nevia sat fully up. She touched his chest and sides. “Some of your ribs are cracked – broken.”
“Garalach’s grip was tight.” Melenius thought understatement might set Nevia at ease. He should have known better. Nevia was made of iron stronger than anything forged from the magmatic depths of the Sentinel itself.
“Do not move,” Nevia said. She laid her palms flat against Melenius’s chest.
Melenius sensed her earth stirring within him, and like sprouts in dark soil after spring rain, life sprang up in his elements, regenerating him. His bones knit back together at once.
Nevia swooned, and Melenius caught her head before it cracked on the marble floor.
“What has Garalach done? What did he have planned? I feel something of the effects, but I sense it only through our bond. Tell me, my snowflake.”
Nev
ia closed her eyes, her fatigue apparent. “Search your elements. I am too disoriented to know.”
It did not take long for Melenius to sense the source of the malady. It was an infectious poison, spreading like water through their elements. Garalach’s mark was clear.
Nevia could not speak, so she used Melenius’s borrowed winds to whisper into his soul. “The more I use my elements, the faster the curse spreads.”
Melenius fetched a pair of ceremonial gloves from a side chamber and floated across the chasm to retrieve the gilded feather. Garalach’s magic still lingered on it. What with the way they felt within themselves, Melenius surmised that it was a slow curse unto death. It had been intended for Melenius, but Nevia had intercepted it. Her love was so good! Melenius would have wasted away, and Garalach would have been blameless. No human would have seen the signs of the curse, and if Nevia had not discovered Garalach’s treachery, they would not have noticed any ill effect until later and thus would not have suspected Garalach.
Melenius marveled at Nevia’s ability to have detected such deceit in Garalach. He floated back over to his wife. Her fires were dim within her, her skin flushed for the first time since Melenius had met her. Her frosty blue eyes had lost their icy sheen. She looked almost human.
“My love.” Melenius brushed back her hair. She looked so frail, but he knew the indomitable heart that beat inside her. She appeared so quiet and timid, but he knew her bold elements.
“We Akar look for hidden daggers,” Nevia said, “and when there are none, we are merely inconvenienced. But if you look and find them, you have saved your own life.” She reached up and tousled Melenius’s floating hair.
“But not in this case.”
Nevia smoothed down Melenius’s agitated black locks. “You, at least, are safe.”
Melenius shook his head. “No, Nevia. I’m not. I feel what you feel, and though I’m not directly touched by Garalach’s curse, it’s still there. If –” Melenius’s elements failed at the thought. “If you succumb to it, it will in time kill me.”
Chasing Earth and Flame Page 18