Faldon and the others stared at her in silence, but the sparkle in his eyes hinted of humor. "Now you see why he despairs to break his side of the curse. Yet he could only be so lucky to experience life as a feyquin."
After regaining her senses, Selina patted the long gray neck under the thick mane. "I doubt he sees it the same."
Faldon nudged her in the side. "Any human should see it as a blessing."
She ran her hand down the long bridge of his nose and gently pushed him away. He gave no reaction but followed her on the road.
* * *
After nine days of walking in new shoes and stays in a couple villages on the road, she followed Faldon off the road to avoid soldiers who might show loyalty to Sorvin rather than Antorin.
Near sunset of the ninth day since leaving Dorrinton, a distant shimmering palace of white rose high above a magnificent city spread upon the plains. The setting sun ignited the spires in its glow. A crescent shape at the highest peak could have been dual flames of a candle.
Selina stopped at the crest of the hill to gaze at the distant wonder. "It's beautiful!"
"We'll reach it tomorrow. Tonight we'll rest here." Faldon galloped away without another word, while the others settled to grazing.
Selina watched him go, eager for his return as a man.
With the bag of food from the last village, she sat down on a rocky hillside. Back in Dorrinton, Faldon suggested a sack for carrying water. She would not have thought of it. Reen had cared for their provisions.
She now looked at it in sorrow. What happened to her friends? She hoped Reen found Doxon and that Beth returned home safely.
She likely would never know since each day her life ebbed away a little more. When she left on this journey, she had fully expected to die in Vastorn.
From her vantage, Selina watched the sun disappear, anticipating when Faldon would join her. The other stallions grazed nearby. Bastien, who refused her help to heal him, stayed further away since Faldon's attack, while Faldon stayed closer to her. None of them talked about the fight. She didn't understand their behavior.
But she now understood their attitude towards humans, particularly Sorvin. Whatever he planned for her, she came to heal his father, the king, and she would do that. If he had other reasons for sending for a Na'Y'dom, she would refuse to cooperate.
Despite the hard, stale bread, she ate what her stomach demanded to fill it. Tomorrow she would enter the city. Food would be plentiful, if the palace was a demonstration of the richness of Vastorn.
With the stars twinkling in the sky, Faldon's steps crunched on the grass. Selina tossed him a red fruit, which he caught.
"Where'd you go—halfway back to Dorrinton?"
He sat down next to her and bit into the crispy fruit. "Too many guards around. I had to hide until they passed. They looked at the ground and mumbled about tracks. I think they expect us."
"Is that good or bad?"
"Likely bad." He stared at the fruit for a few seconds in a contemplative silence and threw it away.
"What's wrong?"
He said nothing but stood and took a few steps away, his eyes on the city.
"Faldon?" Worry tightened in her chest, especially since his news of the guards nearby. Selina stood up, ready to run if necessary.
"Curing Antorin may kill you."
Was that concern in his voice? "I have some time."
He turned to her, his emotions hidden by the dark night. "No, you don't. There's a sinister reason your life is cut short when the mark shows."
She touched the mark within a hair of completing the pattern around her neck.
"Every time you heal someone, you give them a part of your life. You sacrifice yourself for others. Y'dom was a demon, not a god. It cursed the Healers long ago, Selina, when they tried to destroy it. It's a part of this land's history. The mark glows as it grows. Yours is nearly complete."
"No. He was a god. He gave us the healing gifts. You're just trying to keep me from going. I thought we were past this." She choked on the lump in her throat, her eyes burning with the betrayal. How could he do this now, when they were so close to her completing her purpose...when she cared for him?
"It's the truth. Why do you think Dewel and Bastien refused to let you heal them? Feyquin do not kill. Taking a part of your life is as good as killing you."
Emotions tangled inside her. "You'd lie and speak blasphemies—anything—to get your way."
"I'm not lying...and you know it."
"Then why tell me now, after we've come this far?"
He turned to the others, who watched their argument, and back to her. "You deserve to know the truth. I thought you'd be ready to listen."
"I know the truth. You refuse to let me have anything to do with Sorvin!" She turned to leave, afraid he might be right and unwilling to hear any more blasphemy. Most painful, she didn't want to hear it from him. She would heal Antorin and help Faldon find a way out of this stupid curse of his. Then she would prove him wrong.
"Selina."
A strong grip on her shoulders stopped her. When she halted, his fingers softened into something that made her want to believe he cared. He had never touched her in any gentle manner, except for holding her hand to lead her through the Land of Shadows, the realm of the night mares. His hands were gentle now, like they were then, tempting her to believe him. She longed for his touch after all this time.
"Listen to me." His warm breath blew across her ear with his whisper. "It's not about Sorvin. If you do this, you will die. I can't let that happen."
"I've been prepared for my death for almost five years." Despite her words, doubts crept up with her tears. Why did he have to do this now, so near the end of her journey? She came with the conviction that she would cure the king. This journey was an adventure to live before she died. She would see it to the end, before he could change her mind. This was another of his tricks. He played on her emotions, and she let herself believe he might care for her.
Selina pulled away, prepared for him to hold her back and hoping he would, but he didn't. "Farewell, Faldon." Before she could change her mind, she ran down the hill for the plains and the city below. Tears threatened her vision. With luck, she would reach it before midnight and before she could change her mind.
* * *
Faldon stared after the woman, feeling a part of himself ripped away. None of this would have happened if not for Sorvin's curse.
"Won't you go after her?" Dewel said.
He turned to his friend. "Why? She won't listen to me."
"You care about her, and I think she cares about you."
"Does she? She cares about nothing but her mission to save Antorin. She doesn't care about the truth but will needlessly throw her life away. She's human."
"Yes, she is."
Faldon glared at his friend, wishing he wore his regular form. Dewel knew he posed no threat as a man, or he wouldn't dare to mock him.
The chestnut stallion walked away.
Faldon crossed his arms and gazed out on the shadow moving across the land, away from him. Why should he stop her? He tried to hold her and she didn't stay.
It meant he was human, more than he wanted to be. He wanted to end the curse and return to being feyquin. At least, he had wanted that. Now he wasn't so certain.
In his short time with the Na'Y'dom, the cursed of Y'dom—though the title had been perverted over generations in Hallor—he learned more about being human than the last year living with the curse. Had Selina been feyquin, she would have been the lead mare with her strong spirit. He would be proud to have her.
He was proud to have her with him for a short time. That much he wouldn't deny. She stood up to him from the first time they met. That fire intrigued him.
Yet she was determined to give her life away for a sense of duty. A duty caused by a curse she saw as a blessing.
Perhaps she was right. He could turn around his and use it for something positive. He could learn to understand humans and
become the peacemaker between feyquin and humans he wanted to be and hope the others would listen to him.
Antorin would want that. But would the feyquin herds? If Selina cured him, the king could make the changes to bring peace, instead of the war Sorvin would cause. But she wouldn't live long after. Faldon would lose her.
Faldon cursed himself for being a fool. He had to be there.
He couldn't wait. Though Selina crossed half the distance in the time he took to contemplate the issue, he could reach the city before sunrise. He would reach her and tell her—He cared, about the future and deeply for her.
Through the night, he ran and walked, but Selina reached the city far ahead. A number of shapes—soldiers most likely—surrounded her at the outskirts. Among the guards, she made her way to the Ivory Palace.
He closed the gap, but a carriage appeared and rushed her away at a faster pace than he ran. Dewel and the others could easily have caught it, but they stayed with him. He needed them to hold back the guards. In his feyquin form, he would have caught up to her.
When they met soldiers, no one dared stop him with three feyquin. Nevertheless, they accompanied him to the palace gates.
After some trouble settled by a show of power by the feyquin, the guards let them enter. Faldon flew up grand staircases and through tall corridors past elaborate tapestries and sculptures, windows twice as tall as any guard standing alert, and ceilings of gold.
The others waited at the entrance, rather than climb the stairs. Faldon had done so once as a feyquin, before Antorin's illness, when he, Faldon—then the leader of the feyquin—declared his alliance to Kemmon as successor. Antorin had escorted him through the palace corridors as a guest, but climbing stairs was not easy as a feyquin.
Faldon rushed to the doors of Antorin's bedchamber, where two guards stood glaring at him. He tried to push his way past, but they seized him.
"Let me in." He reached for the door handles, but the doors opened before he touched them.
"Release him!"
Faldon caught his breath at the hoarse voice, and the guards stood back. He knew that voice anywhere. In deference to the man he respected, he bowed his head. "Antorin, my king."
The old man stood gaunt, his smile haunting.
Faldon looked up, praying in his heart that Antorin would help him. "Where is she? Where's Selina?"
"The woman is resting...old friend." Antorin stepped into the lamplight of the corridor, fully dressed in stately attire, including the purple sash across his chest and gold epaulets on his shoulders. "She will be honored for her services."
Faldon breathed a sigh of relief. "Then she lives."
"Yes."
Thank the gods!
Antorin paused and his smile vanished. "My son has wronged you. Can you ever forgive me?"
"He acted of his own jealousy. You did nothing."
The frail old man took a deep breath. "That's right. I did nothing to stop it. I should have expected it. I may not undo the curse, but I can punish him. He wronged us both."
Antorin stopped at the tall windows overlooking the city, his hands clasped behind his back. From down the corridor, a faint banging reached them in the silence.
"He's sealed in his room, where he hides at night. Ironic that he reinforced his door to keep others out. It's now his prison. He swore he found a way to break the curse on himself, by marrying another bearing a curse, one of the Na'Y'dom. He never intended to cure me."
So that was it! Faldon had the cure with him all along and didn't know it.
Antorin turned to the city sparkling with lights. "I longed to stand at this window, but while I could not move, he whispered his plans to me. Poison, he said. Poison administered as medicine that I should swallow. In that way, he kept me bedridden. The poor man he duped into giving it knew nothing, nor could I tell him."
He took a deep breath. "I woke to the woman at my bed. Before she fell asleep, she said Faldon was near. I hoped you would come, that I might ask your forgiveness."
"You owe me nothing. I came for peace."
"I'll gladly take the friendship of the feyquin over a war that would destroy this land."
When Antorin extended a hand, Faldon took it, aware of the human custom. "I'll speak to the others, but I no longer hold the authority I had."
"That is all I can ask." A wry grin crooked up Antorin's face. "You've caused trouble, I hear."
After a few seconds to absorb the reality of standing there with a new peace between their species, Faldon noticed the lighter blue at the far horizon. "If I may make one request, my king. The woman..."
Antorin's smile broadened. "This way."
Faldon followed the man, who stood proud and tall, every bit the leader of his people as when they first met long ago, when a young human man stood before him to accept his allegiance.
At one of the lesser rooms in that section of the palace, Antorin stopped. Faldon opened the door. A maid sitting near the bed looked up, a worried expression on her face by lamplight. Faldon ignored her and sat on the edge of the bed near the figure beneath the covers.
"Pardon my asking, sir—"
"Leave us," Faldon said.
The maid's steps faded out the door. Faldon glanced aside, but both the maid and the king were gone.
He returned his eyes to the soft features of Selina's sleeping face amid the plush pillows and smiled. She looked so calm and at peace, not the fiery tempered woman who had caused him trouble. Her chest rose and fell with each breath.
His worry returned when he saw the mark. She would be lucky to see the sun rise. As he expected, the task of reviving Antorin had expended the rest of her life. She might have only seconds left. Was the exchange of one human's life to bring peace among hundreds of thousands a fair trade for another more precious to him?
He could never have made the decision.
"Selina."
She inhaled sharply.
"Selina." He swallowed the emotions hardening in his throat and caressed her cheek. "Wake up."
Her eyes opened and she stretched. "Faldon?"
He took her hand in his and tried to smile.
"You came." She smiled but it faded quickly. She put her other hand to her forehead and groaned. "I feel terrible."
"You look terrible, but Antorin's healthy."
"Good." She closed her eyes and sighed. "Let me sleep."
"No." His eyes burned, the emotions in him tangling into something he had never experienced. He didn't want to lose her. If she fell asleep, he might not have this chance. "Stay awake, a little longer." He sniffed and wiped the tears from his eyes.
"Are you crying?" she chided him softly. "Be careful, or someone'll think you're human."
He choked on a sob and rubbed her hand. "I'm sorry, for everything."
"As am I, but it's too late now." Her voice faded into a whisper.
"For what?"
"Me." Her breath blew away, leaving her for the last time.
The tears came unbidden, a well of grief he had never known. Not even losing the herd to a rival grieved him like this.
When the sun shone through the doorway, the pain started.
It ended when he stood on four legs.
When the maids came to check on Selina, Faldon followed them to where they carried her. His heart had never known grief, but if it meant understanding humans, he would take it as her lesson.
The curse would be a blessing, as she had seen her own inherited curse, to bring peace.
About the Author
Melanie Nilles grew up on a western North Dakota cattle ranch and farm. Along with her interest in horses, she always had a fascination with science fiction and fantasy. After high school, she graduated from North Dakota State University with a bachelor's degree in Business Administration. She currently resides in central North Dakota with her family, which includes her husband and kids, and two cats. Her published works include DRAGON PROPHECY (Mundania Books, LLC, 2008) and the continuing LEGEND OF THE WHITE DRAGON epic, whic
h is available as an e-serial at melanienilles.com. Besides writing, she also trains and shows her horse. For updates, visit her website at www.melanienilles.com.
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