“Nothing.” She nudged Petal and moved away from him. Had he heard her thoughts again? She distracted herself by thinking about how much Sryka would teach her. At last, someone would show her what to do with her gifts. Wasn’t that what she always wanted?
“Jessalyne.”
Ertemis’s voice pulled her back to the present. “Yes?” Maybe he was finally going to apologize.
He gestured up the road, past fields of blonde wheat and green-gold hops. “There’s a village ahead. We’ll stop to eat there.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“I am.”
“It’s not my fault you didn’t eat breakfast.”
“Actually, it is, but you don’t want to have that discussion with me.”
“Fine.”
A group of children playing on the road ahead stopped to watch the pair approached. They stared at Ertemis, little mouths agape. One boy whispered something to the lad next to him before calling out. “Sir, why are you that color?”
Ertemis grinned at the huddled group. “Because I sassed my mother and failed to do my chores.”
The children looked at one another and took off running toward the village.
Jessalyne slanted her eyes at him. “Does that amuse you?”
“Trust me, their mothers will think them angels for the next few days.”
They dismounted before entering the village, walking the animals in. Ertemis pulled his hood up.
An old woman, her face weathered and rough, sat outside a thatched cottage, shelling peas. Ertemis approached her. “Old mother, might someone here sell us a meal?”
She gazed up through clouded blue eyes. “Coin will get you just about anything. I’ve a pot of stew on for me own supper but I’ll sell it to you for a handful of coppers or a piece of silver.”
“Have you bread?”
“Aye, and so will you for a few more coppers.”
Ertemis filled her palm with a mix of silver and copper coins.
She smiled a toothless grin. “Come in then.” She sniffed the air. “You have beasts?”
“Aye.”
“Brynden!” She yelled.
A young man, well tanned by fieldwork, came round the back. “Aye, Grams?”
“Feed and water the animals, lad.”
He nodded. “Aye, Grams.” He bowed his head in Jessalyne’s direction. “My lady, you’re the fairest of the lot what’s passed through here in many seasons.”
“How sweet of you. Brynden, is it?” She smiled at the young man’s compliment.
“Aye.” He nodded shyly. “You’ll win the prince’s hand for sure.”
She furrowed her brows. “What do you mean?”
“Haven’t you come to vie for the prince? To be Shaldar’s next queen?”
Ertemis stepped forward. “Nay, sapling. That’s not why she’s come.” Brynden stepped back.
“Brynden! Chatter don’t get the animals tended.”
“Aye, Grams.” He snuck another glance at Jessalyne as he took Dragon and Petal to the village trough.
Ertemis and Jessalyne followed the woman into her cottage. The savory smell of hot stew greeted them. She motioned for them to sit at a small table near the fireplace.
“What’s your name, old mother?” Ertemis asked.
“Magda.” She felt along the counter for bowls.
“Mother Magda, you don’t see clearly, do you?” Jessalyne’s heart went out to her. How hard her life must be.
“Aye, the years have taken most of my sight. There is some light, bit of color if it’s bright. Not much else. Brynden is my eyes.” She ladled the stew out carefully.
Jessalyne stood. “Mother Magda, please come sit for a moment. I think I can help you.”
“There’s naught that can be done for an old woman.”
“Please, let me try.” She took the woman’s arm and led her to the chair.
Magda’s filmy blue eyes stared blankly across the room.
“Close your eyes, now. I’m going to touch you for a moment.” When Magda shut her eyes, Jessalyne gently rested her palms on the woman’s lids and called magic to her hands.
She drew the woman’s blindness into herself. A veil of darkness fell over her eyes. Magda’s blindness was now hers. Jessalyne imagined the film burning away and saw Magda’s eyes clear and blue as a young child’s. A sudden piercing pain racked her head. Her lungs ached with the effort to breath. Then, a long warm pulse of power ran through her body and it was done. Her hands dropped to her sides. “Open your eyes.”
The old woman blinked several times. A smile lit her face. “My lady, I don’t know what you done, but I can see. I can see clear as day!” She stood up and hugged Jessalyne. “Thank you, my lady.” Her smile disappeared. “I’ve nothing to pay you with.”
“I don’t want payment.” Jessalyne staggered back, reaching out to steady herself on the table. If only the room would stop spinning. Her gut twisted, but fortunately, she’d not yet eaten and had nothing to vomit. She blew out a breath and the nausea with it.
Ertemis jumped up. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Just winded is all.”
Magda stood and held Jessalyne’s face between her calloused hands. “Child, you are most beautiful. Surely, you could win the prince if you wanted.” She hesitated. “Tis a pity one such as you would end up with the likes of him, though.”
“She’s going to the city to study, not wed some blasted prince.”
Magda glanced over at Ertemis and stiffened.
Ertemis’s hood had fallen back and his ears were visible. He raised a hand, “Not to worry, old mother. I mean you no harm.”
“I’ve heard tales of your kind...” She stopped as if she shouldn’t have said anything.
“I’m the lady’s hired shield, nothing more.” A slight smile softened his face. “We only want a meal and then we’ll be off.”
“Aye, your meal.” She relaxed a little as she hurried two bowls of stew and half loaf of brown bread onto the table. “My pardon, Master elf. If you travel with the lady...I meant no disrespect.”
“None taken. All is well, you have my word.”
Magda left, glancing back over her shoulder.
“That was a great kindness you did,” Ertemis said.
“Look around you. Her life is hard enough already,” Jessalyne shrugged. “It seemed right.”
They walked back outside after finishing their meal and
Magda rose to greet them, still smiling, “A thousand thanks for giving my eyes back, my lady.”
Brynden stood holding Dragon and Petal’s reins. “Aye, ‘tis a great gift you’ve given my Grams.”
Magda held a handful of coins out to Ertemis. “You gave me too much for the meal, master elf.”
He shook his head. “You undercharged us. Keep it.”
“Be well, both of you.” Jessalyne wished her gifts could transform the thatched hut into something better.
Ertemis took the reins from the boy and mounted up, holding Petal’s reins until Jessalyne mounted as well. She looked toward Shaldar City and then back at him. He tugged his hood down just as their eyes met.
Jessalyne turned back toward the city. It was definitely time to move on.
* * *
Ertemis finally broke the silence. “Near the horizon. Can you see them?”
Jessalyne squinted. “I’m not sure what I am looking for.”
“The spires of King Maelthorn’s keep. Castle Ryght is known for its tall north and south towers. I can see the pennants streaming in the wind.”
She stared off into the distance, her face a mask.
Wondering what kept her so silent, Ertemis opened his senses. She was a confusing mix of happy and sad. Wasn’t she excited to be reaching Shaldar City?
The countryside changed the closer they traveled to the city. Fields of crops and cattle dotted the landscape. Small hamlets gave way to villages. At last, Jessalyne answered, “I see the towers now.”
“Aye, w
e are close.” Close to her forgetting him.
Before long, the city came into full view. Granite walls encompassed a colorful scene. Bright pennants flew along the wall walk and the dark shapes of guards patrolling passed beneath them. Castle Ryght rose from the city center, a majestic stronghold built of blue stone, glowing in the late afternoon sun.
“It’s so much more beautiful than I expected.” Jessalyne stared, eyes sparkling.
Ertemis wrinkled his nose. Cities stunk, regardless of their size. Knowing his mother’s disgracer had lived within those walls made the stench of Shaldar City even harder to bear. He pulled his hood down as far as it would go. Despite the danger, he would go to the castle gates with her. Leaving Jessalyne to navigate the city alone didn’t sit well.
The massive wood and iron gates of the main entrance were swung wide for daily traffic. Ertemis and Jessalyne passed through with a multitude of others; merchants and farmers with carts full of goods, carriages bearing wealthy nobles to and from the city, travelers on foot and horseback.
Ertemis read the crowd around them for greed or ambition, anything that might indicate someone was thinking of collecting on the Legion’s offer. There was some apprehension, but it was mostly an undertone to the steady wave of curiosity. He scanned the crowd. Strictly human. He channeled his magic to blur his image in their minds, the best he could do in bright sun.
Jessalyne stared at each new sight drifting by in the sea of swirling activity. Her head swiveled in every direction.
Ertemis touched her arm lightly. “Mind your staring. You mark yourself as a green traveler. Thieves look for such signs.”
“Thank you, I will be more careful.” She glanced around, her eyes darting from woman to woman. A subtle smile lit her face. Smoothing her skirts, she announced, “I believe I will fit in well here.”
He grunted. “Don’t lose yourself in this melee, Jessalyne. Things are very different here. This is not Fairleigh Grove, not by any stretch of the imagination.”
She pursed her lips. “I realize that. I am not a simpleton. I know life here will be different.”
“I was not implying...never mind.” He didn’t have it in him to argue with her. Leaving things unsaid between them knotted his insides. The last time his gut had twisted this way, his mother was kissing him goodbye while a Legion commander backhanded him to stop crying. To the commander’s credit, he’d never shed another tear since.
Jessalyne’s voiced snuffed the memory. “I need to check my dagger.”
“The king’s magewoman will be in the castle.”
“I just want to be sure.” Sneaking the dagger out, she held it in her lap while she grasped the hilt. She turned it until the lunestone leapt to life. The line of the blade arrowed straight at Castle Ryght. She glanced at Ertemis to see if he had noticed.
“Where else did you expect her to be?” His gut twisted a little more. “Let’s get this over with.”
Her eyes were fixed on the stone monstrosity. “I’m going to live in the castle.” It came out as a breath but Ertemis heard.
“Beware, Jessalyne. The men in the king’s court are treacherous.”
“I didn’t think you cared.”
He started to reply but shook his head. He was done bickering.
Two pairs of the king’s men, resplendent in black and gold, guarded the castle gates. Their eyes locked onto Ertemis, hands tightening on their sword hilts and stances widening. He redoubled his efforts to disappear in their minds. After a moment, they relaxed.
Ertemis halted Dragon and dismounted. He motioned for her to do the same as he approached the nearest guard. “The lady has business with the king’s magewoman, Sryka. She seeks entrance alone.”
The guard nodded and called his superior over. They exchanged a few words and the senior guard waved his hand. The gates opened and the guard called out, “Entrance granted for the woman alone.”
Jessalyne turned to face him, her lavender eyes bright with anticipation. The air was too thick. He couldn’t breathe. Someone had thrown a blanket of hot, wet wool over him. She was leaving.
“I guess this is where we part.” A gentle smile curved her mouth as she studied his face. She raised her hand toward him but stopped halfway, brushing an invisible strand of hair from her eyes.
“Aye.” Words left him and he stood quietly, unable to say much else and feeling the fool. He burned to touch her matchless skin, to take her in his arms and kiss her honeyed lips until she forgave him of every thickheaded, dimwitted thing he’d ever said or done. With her at his side, he could be a better man, he knew it. Now he would never get that chance. He tried to read her but his roiling emotions overburdened his power. Kiss her, you dumb ox.
She bit the inside of her cheek, her smile fading. “Well, goodbye.” She turned to go, and he caught her hand.
“Jessalyne...” The heat of her skin made the breath catch in his throat. Ask her to stay. Beg her.
“Yes?” The sun sparkled in her eyes, setting her face aglow.
“Be well,” he mumbled, unable to get anything else out.
Her jaw went taut and the glitter in her eyes turned anger. “I’ll do my best.” She spun, Petal’s reins in hand, and stalked through the castle gates.
Dragon whinnied softly and Petal nickered back.
He watched her go, listening to the familiar rhythm of her heartbeat, inhaling the last bit of her perfume. An undergroom came and led the jenny off. Even from the back she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. And he was the biggest fool to ever draw breath. A complete and utter fool.
When she disappeared from view, he trudged away from the gate, Dragon beside him. A familiar pain sprang up in him, sharper than the edge of his Feyre. He was alone. Again.
* * *
Jessalyne hardly noticed the whirl of activity inside the castle gates. All she could think was Ertemis. Three words! That’s all he’d said. Two, really. Saying her name didn’t count. He must hate her. She ached for him, and he hated her. Or perhaps his cold assassin’s heart didn’t feel anything. She balled the fabric of her skirt in her fists. Maybe setting something on fire would make her feel better.
She was almost to the main hall when she stopped and ran back to the gate. She knew she must look like a child but she didn’t care. One last glimpse, just one last look. He would see her and smile and everything would be better. When she got to the gate, he was gone. The edges of her vision blurred.
She rested her head against the iron scrolls. Why should she expect him to still be there? No one stayed in her life for long. By now, she should be used to being alone.
* * *
Ertemis hitched Dragon outside the first tavern he found. He sat in a dark corner without touching the mug of ale in front of him. He pitched his elbows on the table and sank his head into his hands. The rhythm of her imprinted heartbeat drummed in his ears, mocking him.
The ache inside focused his thinking, and two things became clear. He needed to know his good for nothing father’s name, and how to win the heart of a woman above his birth. Only one person could provide both answers. His lady mother.
He dug his fingers into his scalp. Not only did he have no idea how to get there, even if he could find it, the Elders would never let him in.
Then he recalled something his mother had once told him about finding Elysium. “You must close your eyes and open your heart,” she’d said. Poor directions at best, he thought, shaking his head. Open his heart? How in Saladan’s name was he supposed to do that? He pushed the ale away. Blast it! Why must women complicate everything?
Chapter Ten
Jessalyne stood in the great hall of Castle Ryght feeling invisible. Five of her cottages would not the fill the massive space.
Mosaics covered the floor and ceiling of the great hall, depicting scenes and people that meant nothing to her. The walls and support pillars were of the same blueschist granite as the exterior walls. Ornate banners hung from the rafters, displaying the king’s crest as they
swayed in the breeze wafting through the windows around the hall’s balcony.
So many people. Which one to talk to? Someone must know how to find Sryka, but they all rushed by so quickly.
“Pardon me, miss?” She approached a young girl cleaning ashes out of one of the massive fireplaces.
“Yes, milady?” The girl wiped at her face but only succeeded in smearing another streak of soot across her cheek.
“Do you know where I might find the king’s magewoman?”
“Ya doan want her.”
“But I do.”
The girl’s eyebrows rose. “Ain’t ya afraid of her, milady?”
“Afraid of her?” She smiled at the poor girl. Those who didn’t understand magic were often frightened by it. “No, I’m not afraid of her.”
The girl pointed one black finger across the hall. “Ask the blue thing listenin’ to the troubadour. She does Mistress Sryka’s biddin’.” The girl curtsied and went back to shoveling ashes.
Jessalyne smiled. No one had ever curtsied to her before. She started across the hall toward the troubadour in search of a “blue thing”. What the girl meant, she couldn’t imagine.
The words of his song became clearer as she approached. He sang about how handsomely the prince of Castle Ryght dressed. Odd. Weren’t those sorts of songs usually about sword skills or some heroic battle won?
She stood just outside the small crowd of lords and ladies gathered to listen. The tune was pleasant enough, but the nobles responded with such relish she thought city tastes were certainly different from country ones.
On the other side of the group, a tiny blue-skinned girl huddled against the wall. Jessalyne walked over and extended her hand to her. The girl ducked and Jessalyne pulled her hand back.
“Did I frighten you? I’m sorry. I only meant to introduce myself.” She smiled. “I’m Jessalyne Brandborne of Fairleigh Grove.” She extended her hand again.
The creature raised her head. “You don’t mean to hit me?”
“Hit you!” Jessalyne started. “Why would you think that?”
“Never mind, milady.” She held her hand out as Jessalyne had done. “I’m Fynna.”
Jessalyne shook Fynna’s hand. “Nice to meet you Fynna. You’re the first person I’ve met with blue skin. It’s a lovely color.”
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