“88,” Eryk corrected, “She was crowned the second of Mara.”
“Ah yes. The years have such a way of blurring together after awhile. When she came to us, her pregnancy was impossible to miss. She just appeared at the gates one evening with nothing but a coin purse and her cloak. You’ll think me ridiculous, but for some reason I was struck by that cloak and it’s the most vivid image I recall of that night. It was beautiful, black velvet lined in midnight blue silk, embroidered with these tiny golden stars…” Vasi trailed off at a short bark of laughter from Eryk.
“I often wondered what became of that. It was a gift from Aelani at my Induction ceremony. I thought I’d somehow misplaced it and she scolded me for years after for my carelessness. ”
“I kept it for Enari after Tanith passed. I believe she has it with her, if you wish it returned.”
“Goddess, no! It’s hers now. But continue.”
“I was the one who showed her in, and I remember having the impression that she’d traveled far. She requested an audience with the Abdesa and produced some kind of token, though I didn’t see it until the night Enari was born, and was granted admittance immediately.”
“What kind of token?”
“A little silver locket with odd writing in it. Enari wears it and I’m sure she’d let you see it if you or Jex asked her. Anyway, Tanith stayed with us, working in the Apothicarium and helping to train some of our novices in small magics, until Enari came in the dead of winter. The…her labor did not go smoothly, she was so small and hadn’t been in good health, but I’m sure you don’t wish to hear of the women’s details in such matters.”
“Please, Vasi.”
“As you wish.” She huffed out a breath. ”It’s a strange tale. The babe was turned and she bled a great deal. I was the midwife attending her and we had a chance to speak of many things through the long night. When the little one finally came, it was such a dark and pitiful thing. she never took even a single breath, despite my best efforts—” She hastened to explain as Eryk opened his mouth to protest. “No one, except perhaps Tanith herself, suspected she was carrying twins. The second baby didn’t cry, but I certainly did when she opened those golden eyes and blinked up at me. She was so weak and small, we feared we would lose her, too, and Tanith lingered only long enough to hold them and name Enari.”
Silence descended, but just when Eryk though she would say no more, she began again, softer than before. “I mourned Tanith’s death, even though we hadn’t been close. She was a special person, in many ways.”
Eryk felt the old sadness and anguish flood his heart, like blood from a half-healed wound reopened by a knife. “Did she name the father?”
“No, but only because she couldn’t with certainty.”
“What do you mean? When were they born?” There was an edge to his voice.
“The fourteenth of Janua, 789, but I suspect Enari and her sister were at least a month early.”
“That would put her at the Temple for only a few months. And we were together in Rowan for my sister’s crowning from early spring until…until she left in Junn.” He stopped, and she watched while he silently counted the months. A frown drew at the corners of his mouth and deep creases appeared between his brows.
Vasi looked away from him but remained silent.
Eryk leaned across the table and caught her arm. “I was the only one, Vasi! Tanith was never unfaithful to me, nor I to her!”
Vasi gently loosened his fingers. “Not by choice, dearest. Something happened while she was here with you in Rowan.” She put a hand tenderly to his cheek. It was chilled and a day's growth of stubble scraped against her palm. “This will be hard for you, Eryk, and I don’t wish to cause you unnecessary pain. Leave the past to lie in the past.”
He shook his head violently. “No. I need to hear it all.”
Vasi's eyes did not leave his as she finished the telling of her tale and the compassion and pity he saw in their hazel depths cut him to his soul.
“Tanith confided much to me during the hours we walked up and down the birthing room, though I cannot say how much was truth and how much was spoken in delirium. She was raped while here in the palace and fled as soon as she realized she was pregnant. With the timing,” Vasi lifted her shoulders in a small, helpless shrug, “there’s no way to know the identity of Enari’s father.”
Eryk looked horrified and too shocked to speak.
“I’m sorry.”
“She was a talented seer,” he protested weakly, “Why didn’t she scrye the identity of the man who sired her children?”
“Oh, I’m sure she could have, but knowing what I do now I think she was afraid to find out it wasn’t you. I didn't know till now the name of the lover she left behind—she never told me—but I knew just from looking at her that the loss weighed heavy on her spirit. I was…intimately familiar with all the signs by then. She loved you with all her heart and it devastated her to be parted from you.”
Eryk turned his face away and began to weep softly. “She was here at my request, and I didn’t protect her. Why didn’t she…oh, Tanith. Perhaps that was the punishment for my sin against you and Gregor.”
Vasi pushed back her chair and swiftly rounded the table to put her arms around him. He rested his head against her bosom, clinging like a small child. She gave him time to compose himself, murmuring to him as she had to countless frightened novices and stroking a hand over his hair.
He finally looked up and met her eyes, wiping his own with a sleeve. “Is she mine, Vasi? Is Enari my daughter?” His expression was a mix of yearning and anguish. It broke her heart to watch him, yet she couldn’t bring herself to give him false hope.
“I don’t know, Eryk. She resembles only her mother. I can’t tell, but you would know better than I. Do you recognize features other than Tanith’s? Anything of you or your sister’s family?”
“I haven’t spent enough time with her to even guess.” He spread his hands, the gesture feeble and uncertain. “How do you suggest I proceed?”
“I believe Enari has suffered for the want of family. She’s never been told of her twin, but I think a deep part of her suspects. She lives as if a piece of her is missing, somehow. For as long as I’ve know the girl, she’s been silent and withdrawn, utterly self-contained and often oblivious of those around her. She jumps when touched or spoken to loudly, as if it pains her.” Vasi smiled her crooked smile, quietly relieved to move beyond the sad memories. “I think if you wished to be a father to her, she would accept it in time. But I suggest you use caution. It may not be good for either of you if too many learned of your connection to her.”
Eryk sat back in thoughtful silence, contemplating her advice. Suddenly, his eyes narrowed and he turned back to her.
“There’s something you’re not telling me, isn’t there?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Vasi’s stomach dropped.
She hoped in rushing through the end that his thoughts would be led away from what she had so carefully omitted. But, as he could not hide from her, she could not hide from him either. Pressing her lips together, she turned away and began to rise.
“Eryk, it is getting late and I have an appointment with Aelani.”
He caught her arm and pulled her gently, but inexorably, back to him. “You said Tanith came to the Temple in the fall. When exactly?”
“I don’t precisely remember—”
His eyes blazed, “When, Vasi?”
Resigning herself to providing him the last pieces of the tale, she threw up her hands, “The end of Octem.”
“788?”
“Yes.”
“The twins were born the fourteenth of Janua, 789?”
“Yes, but as I said, I’d wager the Imperial treasury that they were born early. They were most likely conceived in Mai.”
“While attending Aelani’s coronation.” Eryk ground his teeth in frustration, “It shouldn’t have taken Tanith from Junn to Octem to get from Rowan to Cyril. That�
�s four months for a journey that takes, even walking, eight weeks. But where…?” He turned his eyes back to her and she could see in their depths that he knew she knew the answer.
“Old Tvan,” she whispered.
The answer clearly shocked him.
“By the Five, why would she go there?”
“The Zyrites believe that in Old Tvan, one can commune with spirits or engage in…dark magic. Things forbidden.”
“And you believe such superstitious blather?”
“I didn’t.”
“What changed your mind?” He was clearly skeptical and had pulled slightly away from her.
“When the first girl was finally born, it was near midnight and I knew from looking at Tanith that she was slipping away. For hours she had been delirious, talking nonsense, but then her thoughts seemed to clear. She demanded I give her the babe, even though I’d already told her she was gone. When I did, she pulled back the swaddling and looked down at that peaceful little face and smiled this smile that made her look a thousand years old. She said she was so sorry, but that they would be together soon. I took the child as her pains resumed and Enari was born less than a quarter hour later.” She hesitated.
“Goddess, Vasi. Just finish it!” Eryk sounded as exhausted as she suddenly felt.
“When Enari opened her eyes, every candle in the room snuffed out except for the one at the bedside and I swear to you there was something in the room with us. I took Enari to Tanith, happy to tell her that this daughter had survived, but I don’t think she even remembered I was present. She took Enari from my arms, and the last words she spoke were to her. I’ve never been able to make sense of them.”
“You said she’d been delirious.”
Vasi frowned. “Yes, but in that moment she was completely lucid, for just an instant.”
“What did she say?”
“I don’t know.”
Eryk rubbed his temples in exasperation. “Now you’re the one talking nonsense. You said she was lucid and she spoke. What did she say?”
“That’s just it, Eryk. It wasn’t Egali, nor any language I’ve heard spoken in the three kingdoms. I—” Here she balked, unwilling to lay open her deepest suspicions for the fear he would think she’d gone round the bend.
Eryk took both of her hands in his. They were trembling and clammy and he chafed them vigorously, trying to dispel their chill. “We’ve been friends a long time, and we have always been honest with one another.”
“Eryk, I think it was Vintyri.”
“Do you remember the exact words?”
“I’ll never forget them. ‘Dusan, gade a ak pe’teson chemen jan fi pa kapa. Fi nire eskaintza zure oparia. Fi zivot za tvoje, dra’jena.’.” Speaking the strange words caused a shudder to run through her and a chill draft whispered through the room around them.
“And then?”
“And then she was gone.”
“Puzzles within puzzles,” Eryk commented distractedly, rubbing his tired eyes.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Footsteps approached, boot heels clicking a quiet, steady cadence on the polished floor and someone whistled a cheerful melody. Enari smiled but didn’t look up from the book spread open across her knees. She knew it was Jex before she saw him; his walk was as self-assured as the rest of him.
“Nani?”
His shadow fell over the pages and she finally glanced up, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear and leaving a small smear of ink on her cheek in the process. Jex, dressed in a tunic of striped green and black, fitted green trousers, and a black doublet, leaned a hip against the wall next to her. Sitting in the wide window ledge as she was, they were almost eye-to-eye. Faintly, she could smell the scent that was uniquely him; part cedar and sandalwood from the soap he liked and part clean male. Between that and his damp hair, she assumed he’d just come from a bath.
“You’ve got ink on your face, Bookworm,” he observed. Licking his thumb, he reached out and rubbed at the smudge.
Enari wrinkled her nose and pushed his hand away, fighting a smile. She swiped a sleeve across her cheek and then tilted her head for his inspection.
“Better.” Jex kissed the spot, then plucked the tome from her lap and turned it spine up. “Treatise Maldicta?” He raised his eyebrows and whistled. “Pretty dark material, love.”
Enari rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue, reaching out to reclaim her book and sticking a piece of string between the pages to mark her place. She was almost finished, having spent a great deal of her time in the library lately.
It had been three weeks since their encounter with Rhazlanakad and Jex had awakened the following morning claiming he felt completely himself. In another day, he’d begun the rest of the work he’d agreed to before leaving for Tesriel. Their time together was much curtailed as a result.
His afternoons were still consumed with teaching Kylan, which Enari happily assisted with, much to the relief of both parties. It turned out that someone was needed to mediate when patience and tempers began to wear thin. The youngest torina was making strides in her ability to write the symbols correctly and could sometimes decipher them, but she was still struggling with the language as a whole. Jex confided to Enari in secret that he wasn’t overly confident she would master it, and the best he was hoping for now was basic proficiency.
Sarene still made the occasional appearance and seemed to take great pleasure in badgering him about his ‘lover’ or ‘whoever you sneak off to at night’. She made sure Enari was within earshot, as if hoping to wound her with the talk. Jex endured it all in silence, for which she was grateful, but the torina never seemed to tire of her game. She continued to go out of her way to be as cruel to Enari as possible, but only when no one was looking.
Evenings were still her favorite times and they were most often spent in the servants’ common room with Gaylan and Babirye. Enari would sit snuggled against Jex’s side, sharing a tankard of ale or a glass of wine with him while the two men tried to outdo the other with jests and stories. Babirye taught her embroidery, an art to which she took quickly after all her lessons with Vasi over the years, and Jex surprised them all by demonstrating his own skill with a needle. It earned him a bit of teasing, but he bore it cheerfully enough.
Afterwards, they retreated to his rooms or sometimes to the gardens if the night proved particularly fair. They’d returned to the little pond in the secluded clearing several times and lay in the grass, watching the stars wheel overhead. He told her of his life at Turris Arcana and the friends he had there. Enari treasured the quiet togetherness of those times.
A handful of nights, he’d disappeared into the city at dusk and not come back until just before daybreak. He refused to tell her where or why he’d gone, only that it wasn’t to drink or wench as she first feared. Upon returning, he’d sneak into bed with her, his clothing smelling of smoke and metal, apparently unconcerned that Vasi was just on the other side of the wall.
When she tried to touch him, he would gently push her hands away and simply hold her, raining fierce, insistent kisses across her skin as if it might be his last opportunity to touch her. Somehow he was always able to slip out before they could be caught together.
Pleasant and quiet as the days had become, mornings were now an entirely different matter. Those belonged to Tora Aelani, and she was proving to be rather a demanding mistress. Intelligent and enlightening, but demanding.
Mornings were also proving to be the most troublesome for Enari.
Jex had brought her with him at first, and while the tora herself had been nothing but kind, once she and Jex disappeared behind the closed door of her study, Enari felt completely out of place. She grew tired of the strange looks the ladies gave her and the unsubtle whispers from behind their hands. So she had begun to slip out of her room long before Jex came looking for her, seeking solitude and a place where others wouldn’t stare. He stopped trying to coax her into returning after Anya pulled him aside for a private word.
&nbs
p; That’s how she’d ended up in the library, with the Treatise spread across her lap. Although the Greater, and thus the source of Jex’s illness, had been dealt with, she felt compelled to read to the end.
Jex cleared his throat and she blinked owlishly at him. For a moment, she’d forgotten he was there.
“Aelani dismissed me early and Kylan is off with Torina Anya. We’ve the rest of the day to ourselves,” he informed her, eyes sparkling with promise.
Enari returned the look, gazing up at him through lowered lashes. Her cheeks started to color under his knowing smile and he could hear her breathing quicken. They hadn’t made love since that one feverish night, and the tension building inexorably between them ever since was nearing the breaking point.
The picture she made, sitting in the sunlight with her cheeks flushed and eyes shining, was too much to resist. He stepped closer and Enari’s knees parted to make room for him.
He kissed her slowly, but deeply. Parting her lips with his tongue and coaxing hers to his mouth, he hummed in contented pleasure. Her arms went around his neck and she leaned eagerly into the kiss.
His mouth left hers after a time and began moving down her neck, warm and firm, and by now he knew well where and how his touch was wanted and he took full advantage of that knowledge. When he nosed aside the neck of her tunic to nip at the swell of her breast, she sighed and pushed at his shoulder.
“Not here. Someone might see.”
”We’re alone. Most people are too lazy to climb that many stairs.” He rocked forward so she could feel his desire, before dropping to his knees and beginning to press little kisses up the inside of her calf. It felt wonderful and Goddess, she didn’t want to stop him, but—
“Jex.”
“Oh, alright.” He rose reluctantly, trailing a hand between her thighs as if by accident. “I was planning a little jaunt out of the palace in any case and thought that, seeing as Vasi isn’t here to run me off, you’d like to come along. Rowan is a beautiful city, and I know you’ve seen very little of it since, well, you’ve been stuck inside with me all summer.”
Errant Spark (Elemental Trials Book 1) Page 23