Solace

by Bethany Adams

  She shared her dream of Telien, his conscience whispered. And let you comfort her.

  That was a loss they both understood, though. Lynia had never had to stop a beating heart with her magic. The sick stain of that… Shuddering, Lial walked around the perimeter of the tower until he reached the camahr den. The food he’d left was gone, and the water was getting low. He melted ice into the bowl for them before settling onto his favorite rock.

  Miaran, it was cold. Lial curled his arms around his upturned knees, tucking the cloak around himself until only his face was free. Of course, he could take his foolish ass inside if he wasn’t so afraid. Not of Lynia or the illness he potentially carried, though the latter was bad enough. He feared a different kind of exposure—his true self revealed, his darker edges clear to her sight. How could he stand her rejection once she saw the layers of pain he so often bore?

  The first blackened edge might have been burned into him by the sharp agony of Aralee’s loss, but every subsequent mark had been worn into his soul, little valleys carved from the endless torrents of difficult healing sessions.

  Every terrible story shared in confidence. Every error. Every death.

  His failures piled on top of each other until…

  “You know, out of about fifteen strands, you moped out here for a solid fourteen.”

  Lial jolted, then muttered a curse. “Clechtan, Ralan. What are you doing behind my tower in the middle of the night? Do I even want to know?”

  “Probably not.” When Ralan’s voice didn’t move closer, Lial turned to stare at him at the edge of the tree line. “I was waiting for you. After meeting with Morenial, I need you to scan me for infection. I didn’t see any dire strands about that, but we both know I don’t always get a clear picture of things involving myself.”

  Instead of leaping to his feet, Lial slumped, what strength he had left evaporating at the thought of more work. “I don’t know if I have the energy. Truly, I do not.”

  “I’m sorry,” Ralan said, and he sounded like he meant it. He paused for a moment before switching to mental communication. “I would not have taken the risk knowing what you would have to deal with, but tonight’s discovery could not be shared with Kai. I don’t even want to mention Elerie aloud lest one of the guards should overhear. Besides, you’re more than aware what this revelation will do to Kai. Had I allowed Morenial to proceed, there’s a high chance that Kai and Arlyn would have gone to find the truth about his mother immediately, and she would have lost the babe. In fact, all three might have… Well, I suppose you can guess what I don’t wish to say.”

  Indeed. Lial understood exactly what he meant. Kai never would have stood by waiting for a safer time, and Arlyn wouldn’t have allowed him to go alone. They likely would have been infected in the process, all before anyone realized the scope of the danger. He’d only scanned Morenial for the virus because of Ralan’s warning. Lial shivered. This was one bit of Ralan’s interference they could all appreciate.

  “I’m surprised you told me,” Lial sent back.

  “Normally, I wouldn’t.” Ralan held his gaze. “But I’m well aware of the strain I’m adding to your resources. You deserve to know the reason, and nothing is harmed by you having the knowledge.”

  Lial thought back to his previous conversation with his cousin, and the grudging respect he had for Ralan grew. The prince might sound dismissive more often than not, but there was more consideration behind his demeanor than most gave him credit for. Including Lial, prior to tonight.

  Shoving to his feet in spite of the ache spearing through his muscles, Lial let out a deep breath and tried to stretch out the cramps. He was exhausted enough that his hands shook slightly where he gripped his cloak closed, but the weakness was hidden beneath the fabric. Even so, he’d been worse. He could do a simple scan, couldn’t he?

  Pain sliced through his mind as he extended his magic toward Ralan, but Lial shoved the inconvenience aside. He had to be thorough. And so he ran his magic through his cousin, searching every cell of his body—at least to the best of his ability. Only when he returned to himself did he realize that he was swaying on his feet.

  “You’re fine, I believe,” Lial said through lips gone dry.

  Ralan frowned. “You believe?”

  “Unless there are markers of disease that I am unable to recognize,” Lial clarified. He blinked, only to find Ralan gripping his arms. “You move fast.”

  “No,” his cousin said tightly. “You didn’t realize that you were about to black out.”

  Lial stared at Ralan. “What?”

  “I’ll give you energy the way I did when Lynia was injured.”

  It took a moment—and an infusion of magic from his cousin—for Lial’s muddled brain to recall what Ralan was talking about. Lynia’s fall, when he’d had to heal her spine. He wouldn’t have succeeded if Ralan and Eri hadn’t contributed magic, theirs being easier to process because of their blood connection. It seemed this time the gift would help Lial rather than his beloved.

  “Normally, I would complain about your pushiness,” Lial said. “But not tonight. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Ralan peered at him for a moment longer before releasing his arms. “Go sleep. And don’t be stubborn about letting Lynia comfort you.”

  A smile ghosted across Lial’s face, but he let the comment pass. No use asking if it was advice or prophecy. Anyone who knew him could guess at his possible stubbornness without need of the latter. “No promises.”

  “No surprise,” Ralan muttered.

  Shaking his head, Lial turned away and started walking, though he tossed a pleasant enough “Good night, Ralan” over his shoulder. He was too tired to debate the matter with his cousin; they were both obstinate enough to spend the rest of the night in the endeavor. Ralan appeared to agree, as he let out a chuckle before heading in the opposite direction.

  A flash of light at the base of the tower caught Lial’s eye, and he slowed to study the hole where the camahr lived. But the light didn’t repeat again. Probably one of the kits getting restless in its sleep. Sighing, Lial forced himself back into motion. No use delaying any longer. He still wasn’t certain what he would tell Lynia, but he couldn’t stay out in the cold all night.

  He would just have to let his heart lead.

  Chapter 33

  For the third time since she’d spoken to Lyr, Lynia resisted the urge to contact Lial. Where was he? Her foot tapped an impatient beat against the stone, an odd counterpoint to the soothing sound of the bubbling potion. But she couldn’t help it. He’d already reported to her son, and the walk from the main building to the tower could have been completed ten times already. Had he fallen on a stray patch of ice? Had he come upon someone in need of healing? What?

  Lynia stood, gripping her elbows as she began to pace the room. Truly, waiting was torture. She should contact him, but part of her feared being rebuffed. Lyr had said the healing at Oria hadn’t gone well, so Lial likely wanted time alone. But iron’s burn, the man also claimed to want a relationship, and that meant she deserved at least a brief mental message that he’d returned safely.

  Didn’t it?

  Drooping a little, Lynia rubbed at her eyes and grabbed hold of her errant emotions. What was wrong with her? She wasn’t usually this quick to worry, and she’d never been so insecure about Telien. Of course, that had been different. Being bonded meant less ability to hide one’s emotions, so while they’d had disagreements, she’d always been able to feel his love. No guesswork there.

  She would never have that assurance with Lial.

  Well, maybe it was uncertainty, but exhaustion couldn’t help. It had been a long night after a seemingly eternal day, and she had used more magic than usual. She should return to her room and get some sleep. Everything was as well as it could be, and Lial was fine—probably brooding. If she left him a note about the potion along with the recipe, he could take a look and add energy if he had any to spare. It needed another seven marks’ time of bre
wing regardless, so she might as well rest. Maybe then he would be ready to talk.

  She’d just pulled a piece of paper from the stack so she could spell-copy the recipe when the door creaked open. Startled, Lynia glanced over, only to freeze at the sight of Lial standing in the entrance. The light from the mage globes cast the shadows beneath his eyes into stark relief—even the lines of his cheekbones were carved sharp, the hollows of his cheeks more pronounced than usual.

  Over the centuries she’d spent at Braelyn with its many warriors, she’d seen more than a few looking exhausted and heartsore. But this… Lynia needed no bond to feel the weight of his grief. It settled on her shoulders much the way it bent down his, and she wanted to cry from the injustice of it all.

  Lial stepped inside, closing the door behind him. Then he halted, and her heart thrummed at the conflict on his face. “Lynia.”

  There was a wealth of emotion in that whisper, and it broke something loose inside her. Shoving away from the workbench, Lynia darted over and threw her arms around him before he could say another word. But he didn’t relax—if anything, he grew more tense.

  Worry threaded through the pain she felt on his behalf until she pulled back. “Do you want me to leave?”

  “No.” His jaw clenched, and he let out a harsh breath. “No, but you should. It isn’t safe to touch me. Had I realized what you were going to do, I would have warned you away.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Why?”

  “I didn’t find signs of the virus in myself, but I…” His voice trailed off, and he averted his gaze. “If I’m wrong and you catch this illness, I won’t be able to save you.”

  Lynia ran her finger along his firm jaw. “You would.”

  He jerked free of her hold with an abruptness that drew a gasp from her lips. What had she said? Then she noted the stark pain on his face and winced. Lyr had mentioned that the healing hadn’t gone well, but that must have been an understatement. She’d never seen Lial look so agonized or defeated in all the centuries he’d been at Braelyn.

  “What happened?” she asked softly.

  Lial’s nostrils flared. “We killed him. That’s what.”

  In the silence that followed the echo of his words, Lial went pale, and he rubbed at his arms as if cold. Lynia certainly felt chilled. What could he mean by that? He was no murderer; of that she was sure. Did he mean that he and Alerielle had failed to save Korel?

  “I wasn’t even certain I could tell you of my shame,” Lial murmured before slinging his cloak from his shoulders and spinning away to hang it by the door.

  He didn’t turn back to face her.

  “You can’t save everyone,” Lynia ventured, worried that she shouldn’t speak at all.

  “No.” Lial braced his hand against the wall. “I am aware. But I didn’t misspeak. We failed so badly at stopping the virus that Alerielle and I had to kill him. It was a mercy. It prevented the illness from spreading. I used my magic to stop his heart, Lyni. What kind of healer…?”

  Understanding poured through her, along with a fair amount of horror. No wonder he was struggling. He’d remarked more than once that he wasn’t sure if he could ever harm another with his magic, only to be forced into that very thing. And it was horrible, as death always was. Unfortunately, it was also necessary at times. There was no ideal world—not in any dimension.

  “You shouldn’t—”

  He swung around, and the torment on his face cut off her words. It shattered her heart. He couldn’t keep this pain inside. All too well, she knew the cost of holding in such strong feelings. So when he strode toward the stairs, she grabbed his wrist, tugging him back around.

  “You shouldn’t blame yourself for what had to be done,” Lynia said firmly. At the doubt in his eyes, she gripped his face in her hands. “You. Are. Not. A. God. You aren’t Bera, Goddess of death and healing. You’re one person.”

  Lial’s eyes pinched closed. “Ralan said I could stop this plague.”

  “No, he didn’t.” Lynia gently shook him until he looked at her. “He said we could stop it. And there was no promise that nothing would be lost in the process.”

  “I may never feel clean again, Lynia,” he whispered.

  She took his hand and pulled him toward the stairs. “Come on. I’ll help.”

  Together, they climbed the steps to the upper bathing chamber, and together, they undressed. Lynia waited patiently while he activated the spells to release and heat the water from the wall, an unusual modification that Lial had requested after Lyr brought the idea back from Earth. A shower, it was called.

  Not her favorite, but she stepped beneath the spray with Lial. And once he’d scrubbed himself practically raw, she gathered him close and let the water wash away both their tears.

  For a blessed moment, Lial felt as hollow as the pipe that had drained the water away beneath his feet. Washed clean, no thought or emotion to remind him of past or present. Then Lynia ran a drying spell over his body and through his hair before handing him a loose robe, and love flooded through him once more. No one took care of him, not usually. But she did.

  “Thank you,” he murmured.

  Lynia smiled slightly as she dried herself, turning her hair from dark yellow to nearly white in the process. Unable to resist, he twined a silky strand around his finger. He craved her, but he didn’t deserve the kiss he wanted to take. She’d given more than enough for one night.

  “Let’s go to your bedchamber,” she said. “You can tell me what happened if you’re ready. Or just sleep, which you obviously need.”

  His brows drew together. “Ralan gave me enough energy that I’m no longer wavering on my feet. I didn’t think it was that obvious.”

  Her smile widened as she tugged her hair free and wrapped herself in another loose robe. “Alas, I know you too well. You’ve gone well past overworked, beyond ‘took on more than you should,’ and straight into the realm of ‘why haven’t you collapsed?’ Though I suppose in this case, the answer is Ralan.”

  Lial shook his head. No hiding anything from her. “Will you stay with me? It’s selfish. I should scan you for illness and let you go, but I…”

  “Why?” She surprised him by laughing. “Honestly, Lial. I hugged you. We just showered together. If I’m going to catch the virus from you, I’ve surely done so. Going back to my room now would only risk spreading it. I suppose I’ll have to be quarantined with you.”

  He couldn’t hold back a growl. “How can you be so casual about this?”

  “Because I don’t think you missed anything.” Lynia leaned close, brushing her lips against his for good measure. “You said Ralan gave you energy, which means he must have gotten close. Did he tell you anything about me?”

  Lial blinked at the shift in topic, but the answer to her question clarified her reason for asking. Ralan had grabbed his arms and told him to accept comfort from Lynia. Would he have done either of those things if he thought Lial was infected? Ralan must have Seen a reasonably clear future to be so confident in his actions.

  “He said I shouldn’t be stubborn about letting you comfort me,” Lial admitted. Sighing, he took Lynia’s hand. “Don’t tell him I took his advice.”

  She chuckled. “I’ll endeavor not to.”

  They walked hand in hand to the stairs, but he was forced to release her so they could descend. He focused on the warmth that her fingers had left on his rather than the self-recrimination waiting to swamp him. Though the shower had brought some relief, the pain wasn’t gone. He knew from experience that it hovered, ready to attack as soon as his guard was down. No one escaped working through grief.

  But he could do his best to be distracted from it.

  As soon as they’d both stepped from the stairs into his room, Lial activated the spell to close off this chamber from the workroom below. Dizziness rolled through him from the use of that simple magic, and he pinched his eyes closed until the sensation passed. Miaran. He’d really done it this time. He had to rest. If anyone else got sick or i
njured, he would be unable to help.

  Lynia’s arm curled around his waist, and he opened his eyes to meet hers. “Get in bed.”

  Despite everything, he grinned. “I’ve longed to hear those words from you many times.”

  “No offense, love, but I don’t think you’re in any condition to take advantage,” she teased.

  He barely heard most of what she said. His heart had locked on “love” and set its beat to the meaning. It was a simple endearment, one that she couldn’t mean literally. She was too uncertain of him and their relationship. She’d wanted to explore possibilities, not commit. Exhaustion was making him hallucinate.

  Lial pulled away and shrugged out of his robe, tossing it on a chair before crawling under the covers. A line between her brows, Lynia stared at him for a moment before circling to the other side and slipping out of her own robe. She slid in beside him and nestled herself against his side before she spoke again.

  “Why did your expression close up a moment ago?” she asked softly. “A memory?”

  He wrapped his arm around her waist. “No. Only…I wish you would beware your endearments. My heart is weak and greedy.”

  “What do…” Her voice trailed off. Then she propped herself up on his chest and met his eyes. “Because I said ‘love’? What if I meant it?”

  As soon as her meaning hit, Lial shifted, rolling until he rose above her. His arm muscles shook with the strain, but he barely noticed. His hair fell like a curtain around them until all he could see was her face. Her beloved face, more serious than her light tone would have suggested.

  “Be careful,” Lial said with a growl. “Or I might decide to keep you.”

  Smiling, she ran her hands up his arms and gently squeezed his shoulders. “Is that right? And what would you do with me?”

  Lial gave her lower lip a quick nibble. Almost retribution for her teasing, but really a pleasure for them both. “Tell me the truth, Lyni.”