The Temple of Ardyn

by Tameri Etherton

“I am. I have long wanted to meet you.” She glided to a bench and sat. Taryn shifted her sword to the side before taking her seat beside the goddess. “Ah, you have my father’s gift with you. May I see it?”

  Taryn pulled the blade from the scabbard, handing it to her. It began to pulsate and glow. “What’s happening?” Taryn asked, tempted to take the sword from Daknys.

  “It is remembering me.” She held the sword out before her, squinting down the blade. “You’ve taken good care of Ynyd Eirathnacht.”

  “Who?” Taryn was certain she didn’t know anyone by that name.

  “The sword. There is much power in a name—you should know this.” Daknys blew on the blade. It turned a soft pink, followed by blue and then violet. “You are troubled, young Taryn.” Her fingers danced along the edge of the sword. “Ynyd Eirathnacht has accepted you as the Eirielle. This has awakened my lover and betrayer.” Daknys handed the sword back to Taryn. “He hunts you in your thoughts.”

  Taryn carefully replaced the sword in the scabbard. “You learned all this from blowing on it?”

  “No, my dear, from you. Your heart told me what your mind could not.” She tilted her head, smiling at Taryn. “Rykoto knows you hold the key to his freedom.”

  Taryn glanced over her shoulder at Baehlon and whispered, “You mean the seal?”

  Daknys laughed, a rich, hearty sound that filled the temple. “No, but you will need it soon enough. What Rykoto seeks is much more valuable than the seal.”

  “What then?” Taryn asked. “I don’t have anything else, unless you mean the crown Nadra gave me or this sword.”

  “It is none of those things and all of them. You will have to discover what he seeks on your own, little one. It is part of your path.”

  “I hate riddles.” Taryn sighed. “Can you at least tell me how to stop him from entering my mind?”

  Kaida padded to where they sat and curled herself at Daknys’s feet. The goddess petted the grierbas, whispering something only the two of them heard. Kaida glanced at Taryn knowingly, sending a chill of dread down her back.

  “I cannot. I will say this. You must never let Rykoto have what he seeks and to succeed, you must know what you need from him.”

  “That doesn’t make sense. Why do I want anything from him?”

  “This path has been laid before you. I cannot intervene.”

  “Bloody hell, then why come here to see me if all you’re going to do is tell me what you cannot do?”

  “In life, there is always suffering and pain, but there is also love.” She traced the runes on Taryn’s hand. “You must protect that love with your entire being.”

  “Is something going to happen to Rhoane?”

  “I know much of what is to come, but life is malleable.” She touched Taryn’s cheek. “For me to tell you could possibly bring about that which might otherwise be averted. Either way, it would only make you suffer all the more.” Her shoulders lifted in a shrug and her hair fanned out around them. “Until you believe in who you are, nothing I say will matter.”

  “I know who I am,” Taryn said defensively.

  “Yes, but you do not believe in yourself. That is why Kaldaar was almost released from his banishment. That is why Rykoto haunts your thoughts. You have no belief, which gives them power. You must become stronger, Taryn. Kaldaar is close to being released. That can never happen.” Her face held the sadness of a dozen generations. “What he did to Julieta is nothing compared to what he will do to Aelinae if he is freed.”

  “Do you know who is behind the phantom? Who wishes Kaldaar to return?”

  “I do not. They are powerful, of that we are certain. They can hide themselves from us.”

  Taryn assumed Daknys meant the other gods and a sliver of anxiety cut through her. If they couldn’t see the phantom, how would she ever defeat him for good?

  “You will grow in your power and your belief. Use the gift the phantom has given you. Embrace it. Nurture it.” Daknys lifted from the bench, her gown and hair floating on the air. “I must go now, little one. I hope I have eased your sorrows a little.” Daknys inclined her head to Kaida. “You would do well to learn what you can from the little hunter.”

  “Wait. The Shadow Assassin. Do you know who controls him?”

  “You have the answer within you already. Believe in yourself. Trust in what you cannot see.” The light surrounding her brightened, then rose to the ceiling before winking out with a spark.

  Taryn’s thoughts whirled in a tempest timed to her racing heart. She kicked at the marble floor. “Fuck!” She yelled up to the darkness where Daknys disappeared. “Fuck, fuck, and fuck. I fucking hate riddles!”

  “The meeting did not go as well as you’d hoped?” Baehlon asked in a quiet voice.

  Taryn pushed past him, out of the temple and into the cold. “She said I knew who was controlling the Shadow Assassin. Well, she said the answer is within me. That I just need to believe. What does that mean?”

  Baehlon fell into step beside her and Kaida kept close to her thigh. “I think it’s all the free time they have. They’ve nothing better to do but make up tasks for us mortals to complete at their whim.”

  “I hate riddles,” Taryn said.

  “It seems Daknys set you up for a good one. Perhaps Rhoane can help us decipher it.”

  A sinking feeling slowed her pace. “Maybe.” Instead of returning to the castle, Taryn turned them toward Southside Gate. She stopped on a bridge to gather her thoughts, idly watching the water flow downstream. “Ever since the attack at the Stones, I’ve had this sense of dread. It lifted when we arrived here, but now, it’s even worse.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you to Gaarendahl? Another sword could be useful,” Baehlon offered.

  “I doubt swords will be necessary where we’re going. I need you to stay with the empress. Be my eyes and ears. Something she said to me the other day has got me thinking. She said when I’m done learning what I can from Zakael to return to Talaith. That together we would bring balance back to Aelinae.”

  “Aye, that’s what she’s been saying from the beginning.”

  Taryn dragged her gaze from the river to glance up at the big man. “It was the way she said it. I don’t know…as if she needs me to have my Dark powers to accomplish something. I need you to find out what she’s up to besides the illegal taxes. Be my spy, Baehlon. Talk to the servants—they know everything that happens in the palace. Find out everything you can about Lliandra and Marissa. If they are planning something, I need to know. Especially if they think I’ll help. Mother or no, I won’t be anybody’s puppet.” She surveyed the area, orienting her location. “Come on, there’s something I need to do.”

  They hurried through the city streets until they neared her destination. When they were several shops away, Taryn pulled Baehlon into a pub, taking a table near the window. She told him to keep watch over the area, marking who came and went and then she slipped out the back door, pulling the shadows around her.

  Iselt dropped his tools when he saw her standing in the middle of his workroom. It took only a fraction of a second for him to compose himself before he bent at the waist in the most pathetic bow she’d ever seen.

  “Your Highness. I did not know we had an appointment today.” He retrieved his tools from the floor before gently removing the blade she was inspecting. “What can I do for you?”

  Taryn tapped her nails on a tabletop and regarded him for several moments before taking a risk she hoped she wouldn’t regret. “I have need of your skill, Iselt.” With care, she extracted the throwing star and dagger from a pocket, holding them out to him. “I need to know where these were made and for whom.”

  Iselt drew back. “They reek of Black ShantiMari. You should not have touched them.” He withdrew a rag from his apron and took them from her, inspecting the insignia on each. “I don’t recognize the marks. I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.” He held the bundle out to her, but she ignored it.

  Instead, she
raised a hand to his face. He looked at her with wild eyes but did not pull away when she ran the back of her fingertips over his cheek up to his ear. She pinched the rounded tip of his ear and smiled when he swayed into her touch. “I saw the Artagh in you, but half Eleri as well? Now that is a surprise.”

  Anger flashed in his eyes. “My whole life, no one has ever guessed. How is it you know?”

  “Because,” Taryn said softly, “I amDarennsai.”

  “I’ll not swear fealty to you.”

  “I’m not asking you to.”

  An internal debate raged across his features. Finally, he said, “If you keep my secret, I will do as you ask.”

  “I have no intention of telling anyone about you or what transpires here today. Do you understand?”

  He nodded miserably, still not trusting her.

  “What I ask of you will come with no small amount of danger should it be found that you are helping me. In return, I will ease your suffering. If you ever need my assistance, you will have it.”

  The play of emotion across his face intrigued her. Something made him seek anonymity to the point of disguising himself with what little ShantiMari he possessed.

  “Are these from the man who attacked your maid?” He waved the bundle in his hand.

  Taryn wasn’t surprised he’d heard. There was no such thing as a secret at the Light Court. She told him about the Shadow Assassin, his previous attempts on her life, and finally, about his capture. He listened carefully, asking only a few questions, periodically nodding his head while making notes in a journal.

  “It will take some time to find the maker. I have to use alternative methods, but I will do as you ask.”

  Taryn fulfilled her end of the bargain by removing the remnants of Glamour that shimmered under his skin. By the time she’d finished, his ears were rounded and his skin as dull as an ordinary man’s. She tied off her power to make the effect permanent.

  “Thank you.” Islet pinched the skin on his forearm again and again to make certain no Glamour bloomed beneath his touch. The mistrust didn’t completely leave his features, but it was enough.

  She said in a quiet voice, “Darius will be joining my household in Talaith. If you should feel the need to relocate, I can make the necessary arrangements.”

  His face paled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Your Highness.”

  “Darius doesn’t know, does he?”

  Iselt shook his head hard, refusing to face her. “I’d like it to stay that way. He’s had a good life here. What was between me and his mother is past. She never told her husband, and I thought it would be best for the lad if I let him go.”

  Taryn wasn’t happy she’d been right. This was another thing she couldn’t share with Rhoane. Not yet, anyway.

  She gave Iselt several gold coins with as many reminders to watch for his safety. He promised to send word when he had information. The heavy clang of metal rang out as she pulled the shadows around her and slipped from his shop. She took a risk in trusting a complete stranger, but she’d made certain his fate was tied to hers. If for no other reason than the love of his son, he’d help her. Daknys said she needed to believe in herself, but at that moment, she needed to believe in others even more.

  Chapter 24

  IN COMPLETE contrast to the solemnity of the first night of the Light Celebrations, the final night was a raucous welcoming of the new season. Gone were the haunting songs and candlelight procession through the town. Instead, the townsfolk gathered around a huge bonfire in the town square, drinking and feasting with the rest of the court. Taryn made a brief appearance to toast the participants of each event and then slipped away before her mother could command her to stay.

  Throughout the day, she and Rhoane had said their goodbyes to their friends, each time hearing their recriminations and doing their best to explain why Taryn needed to go to Zakael. None of them favored the trip—including Taryn and Rhoane.

  Duke Anje caught up to her as she and Kaida hurried back to Ellie’s bedside. They didn’t speak, but Taryn knew what he was thinking. He’d tried to talk her out of going to Gaarendahl, promising he could help her with Dark Shanti, but they both knew his power wasn’t nearly the equal of Zakael’s. In the end, he had relented, but there was a strained apprehension in her uncle she’d not previously noticed.

  When Anje followed her into her rooms, Taryn stopped him with a touch on his sleeve. “Please, Uncle, no more about Gaarendahl. Ellie needs calm and rest. It would do no good to argue in front of her. I’ve said my reasons for going and you have yours for my staying. Let’s be done with arguing and move forward.”

  “Of course, my darling. We will speak no more of your trip. Tonight, we are here for your maid.”

  She regarded him skeptically, unsure if he really meant it. He was not usually so easily swayed from a good debate. As if to prove her wrong, he took a seat beside Ellie, speaking softly to her about the wonders of Talaith, reminding her of all she had to look forward to on their return.

  Darius slumped in a chair, his eyelids drooping, and Taryn feared if he didn’t get some rest, he would collapse. During Ellie’s convalescence, he had hardly left her side.

  “Darius, you need food. Go get something to eat. In fact…” Taryn took in Saeko and Lorilee. “All of you get out of here. Celebrate with the rest of the city and enjoy yourselves. I don’t want to see any of you until tomorrow.” They blinked at her, uncomprehending. “I mean it. Go!”

  When they left, she curled up on the couch with Kaida resting her head in her lap. Together, they listened to her uncle’s outrageous stories of his courtship to Gwyneira. Every so often Ellie would laugh, followed by a low moan of pain. When the duke stopped, Ellie would beg him to continue.

  Later, after Anje said goodbye with words of advice and admonitions to be careful, Ellie helped Taryn pack by approving which outfits she would take on her trip. In that small bit of usefulness, Taryn saw the first hint of recovery. Ellie still woke every night screaming, hiding her face with her hands, but Faelara was working with her to ease her through the trauma. Even Sabina had visited the maid, encouraging Ellie to trust that with time, it would get better.

  With so many invested in her health, Taryn hoped Ellie would see their efforts for what they were—an outpouring of love and a true desire for her to be whole again.

  Taryn held up a dress for her maid to approve, but the girl struggled to keep her eyes open, her head nodding with sleep. She tucked her in bed with a kiss on the forehead, hating herself for leaving the others to continue Ellie’s rehabilitation, but the trip to Gaarendahl couldn’t be delayed.

  Rhoane entered her rooms just as she finished packing. She suppressed a gasp at his appearance. Deep bags puffed under his eyes and his hair straggled from half-formed braids. Even though he was exhausted from interrogating the assassin, he greeted her with a smile, asking after Ellie. She gave him a brief update and then they talked quietly about the prisoner and Rhoane’s frustration that he’d said nothing more than the few words he spat at Taryn. Their only hope was to seek help from a master of Black Arts in Talaith.

  Even if the assassin never said anything, as long as he was locked in the dungeons, unable to harm anyone, she was at peace.

  Before first light, she and Rhoane slipped from the castle to the stables and saddled their horses. Nikosana snorted and huffed at Kaida, who snarled in return. Frustrated with their behavior, Taryn demanded quiet, her voice rattling the rafters. Niko glared at her with his large, chocolate-brown eyes, and she met his glare with her own.

  “I will not tolerate either of you acting up, is that understood?” He pawed the ground, his coat twitching in agitation. Despite her daily treats, she’d not had a chance to ride him and unease crept into her voice. “Nikosana, Kaida won’t harm you.” She held out her hand to Kaida and instructed her to come forward to sniff Niko’s muzzle. The stallion reared up, but Taryn held the reins firm.

  “She is a hunter. He is her natural prey. Di
d you expect he would be as docile as Ashanni?”

  “What I expect and what actually happens is rarely the same thing,” Taryn grumped. She tried one more time to introduce the two and Nikosana allowed the grierbas to sniff his muzzle before tossing his head. “That’s good enough for now. You two better get along on the road, or I’ll find new companions.”

  Kaida barked at her and loped from the stables, her bushel-brushed tail held high.

  They left the castle and the city behind them, riding at an easy pace, relishing the break from court life. Fair weather followed them for the trip and unlike their journey to Celyn Eryri, Taryn begged Rhoane to slow time, postponing what was to come. Each day, at the first sign of nightfall, they found an inn and bedded in comfort for the night. Sometimes they would sit in the common room, listening to the other patrons. Other times they would linger in their bed, enjoying each other’s company. Around midday on their fifth day of travel, Gaarendahl’s shadowy silhouette loomed against the backdrop of a stormy sky and Taryn pulled Nikosana to a stop. Rhoane reined in Fayngaar, giving her a curious look.

  “Are we making a mistake?”

  “Only you know the answer.”

  “Tell me what you feel.” She tapped her belly. “In here.”

  “Zakael holds the key to many unanswered questions. You have set yourself upon this quest to find those answers,” Rhoane told her.

  “I suppose, but that doesn’t make it any easier. I guess there’s no more delaying the inevitable.”

  Taryn’s heart thumped in her chest as they crossed the long bridge that led to Zakael’s home. The castle was made of rough-cut stones, similar to Celyn Eryri. Whereas her mother’s winter home looked like something out of a fairytale, Gaarendahl hunched like a grotesque fortress on a peninsula with jagged rocks forming a deadly moat. A siege here could last months with the inhabitants of the castle snug in the protective embrace of the sea. No beaches softened the fall, only sharp reefs.

  A servant in Zakael’s livery greeted them while several young boys rushed out to take their bags. Taryn slipped one hand into Rhoane’s, keeping the other on Kaida for assurance as they made their way into the dark castle. To their surprise, Marissa was waiting for them in Zakael’s study. She wore a loose-fitting gown that did little to hide her voluptuous figure. Taryn was accustomed to her sister’s provocative attire at court, but to see her dressed so informally was a shock. More than her clothing, it was her manner that suggested she was a frequent visitor to Gaarendahl—her ease at directing the servants, her familiarity with even the smallest detail.