by Tal Valante
This is his gift to me. The last thing he can give me.
Our lungs can no longer contain the heat. Another moment and they’ll burst.
Lothian screams a final word and collapses to the floor, and suddenly the image of Kalen appears between Gidden and me. No illusion, this time. Even I can sense it.
The next breath that enters my lungs nearly freezes them. The sweat feels like ice all over my skin.
“Kalen.” The name floats from my lips like white smoke. I can’t say anything more.
He looks down at me with light gray eyes. “You are a fool. You grieve for my people? You grieve for me? Ha! Grieve for yourself, if you must.”
“How can you say that? You spared me—”
“I manipulated you.”
“You made love to me—”
“I seduced you.”
“You, you said—”
“I tried to turn you against your king.” His eyes deepen into steel-gray. “I wanted you to murder him, like you planned to murder me. Perhaps then, the humans would have gone mad enough to enter our forests. And we would have killed them to the last warrior. And then we would have flowed out over your lands and cleansed the rest of your kind from this world.”
“No . . .”
His lips curl in that conscious, deliberate smile, and it’s everything but beautiful. “We played a bold gambit, your king and I. He won. You were but the sacrificial pawn between us.”
I look at him, and through him at Gidden, and their images blur and blend with the tears in my eyes. I bow my head and pound the floor with my fist.
Kalen’s voice washes over me, gentler than before, and I know that if I looked, his eyes would be deep blue with sorrow.
“Farewell,” he says. “Perhaps in another time and place, I could have loved you. And I would have loved you well, Lord Eve.”
When I look up, the ghost of Kalen a-Shan is gone, all of it, the heat and frost, all gone. Gidden has come over to kneel by my side. I scramble away from him.
His own blue eyes glisten with human sorrow.
“He’s wrong, you know,” he says. “You weren’t a pawn. And you weren’t a sacrifice.”
“Really? Kalen would have used me. You abandoned me as soon as I served my purpose.”
“No, I didn’t. Never. I tried to visit you at the monastery, but the sight of me drove you further into madness. Can’t you see? I loved you too well for that. I kept my distance for your own peace of mind. And I think Kalen loved you, too.”
“Loved me?” I pant out what should have been a chuckle. “After what he just said?”
Gidden cocks his head to the side. “Because of what he just said. His last gift to you.”
“Hate?”
“Reprieve from guilt. He loved you well enough to sacrifice his own image in your mind, if it spared you from self-loathing.”
I try to comprehend the levels upon levels of lies—or truth—that Gidden is suggesting. If Kalen hated me, if it had all been manipulation, why should I grieve for him? And if he loved me to the point of lying to me so, shouldn’t I honor his wish and forgive myself?
A dam breaks down inside me, and the last of my madness washes away as I cry and cry and cry, while Gidden holds me and rocks me back and forth.
When I’ve run dry, I extricate myself from his embrace and look into his face, now eternally lined with pain.
“I don’t know what to believe anymore,” I tell him.
He nods. “That’s why love is a leap of faith. No one can make the choice for you.”
Had they loved me? Had they merely used me? I cannot tell. But I know I loved them both for who they were, and if my own love was true, they were not the kind of people who would betray me.
Gidden is right. When all options make equal sense, it’s a matter of choice.
When he stands up and offers me his hand, I take it and let him draw me to my feet for the second time that night. He doesn’t let go of my hand this time.
“Are we . . . Are you all right?” he says quietly.
No. I’m tired and drained and hurting all over, and I’m lost, and I have no place to go. But at the same time . . . Yes, I suppose I’m all right. More than I’ve been in two years. No simple answer can encompass all that, so I shrug.
The horologe strikes midnight.
Lothian is picking himself up off the floor, and Darius looks from Gidden to me with a wary eye. “Are you done, now?”
“Yes,” Gidden says in my stead. He peers into my face. “I think so.”
Darius nods. “Very well, Highness. Should I escort him out?”
Gidden lays an arm across my shoulders and pulls me to his side. I can’t help but think that perhaps Kalen was right, that we humans are the bane of this world. But if we’re damned, let us be damned together; perhaps therein lies our salvation. I melt into Gidden’s embrace.
Darius clears his throat. “Highness?”
“No,” Gidden says. “Come morning, let everyone know that Lord Teregryn Eve has come home.”
My undying thanks to Rachel Haimowitz, a dear friend and an inspiring colleague. Without her help and support—which cover everything from practical advice, through hand-holding, to occasional cookies—I would not be here at this happy point in my life.
My thanks also go to Aleks Voinov, whose all-encompassing acceptance of me keeps me flabbergasted and heart-warmed.
You guys rock.
Tal’s passion in life is building worlds, whether digital ones using programming languages, or literary ones using plain ol’ English. When she’s not buried neck-deep in code, you can find her editing manuscripts, designing fantasy worlds, or torturing characters in her own original works.
This is her first title with Riptide Publishing, though seeing as she’s often devoured by plot bunnies, it’s not likely to be the last.
To learn more about Tal, please visit http://www.valante.com.