Hushed, Tales of Ryca, Book 2

by Shereen Vedam

  Her father pulled her close, kissing the top of her head. “I never stopped loving you, Tam,” he whispered. “I never will. As for Tamarisk, his plans were grander than to be the only man wielding power. He wanted to change Ryca itself. To destroy its foundation. To extinguish the Light from which magic stems. I had to stop him.”

  “By dying?” She was unable to keep her lingering bitterness out of that question.

  “I wove a secret spell of my own. To protect Ryca, our people and the Light from being harmed. Tamarisk knew I was up to something and that the work drained my magic and my strength. When I was at my weakest, he enticed my brother to strike.”

  Tamara spoke slowly, trying to understand what her father told her. “You were attempting to save us all?”

  “Do not paint me a hero again. I wasn’t there for your mother when she needed me. Or for my children. Or all those magical guild members who suffered horribly under Tamarisk’s hand. I am to blame for that. I was their king. It was my duty to protect them.”

  “You were protecting our entire world?” Tamara asked in a small voice, as the enormity of her father’s actions sank in.

  “And I failed.”

  “Did you?”

  Father and daughter stared at each other.

  “Didn’t I?” he asked with a frown.

  “Tamarisk drained the powers of all those guild members for years and still he could not wield a tenth of the magic you could with a flick of your finger. Saira, with Anna’s help, brought him to his knees.”

  A slow smile spread across her father’s face. “I did stop him.”

  “You crippled him,” she corrected. “Saira stopped him. She wouldn’t have been able to do that if you hadn’t bound the Light from his use. He was left to rely solely on Darkness. You taught me that the power of the Dark to Light is like a candle flame to sunlight.”

  He nodded, and a weight seemed to release from his stiff shoulders. “Then the sacrifice was worth it.”

  “Yes.” A similar weight dissipated from the stranglehold it had held on her heart. “Yes, it was.” Impulsively, she hugged him, only to have her arms go right through. She stumbled forward. “Sorry.” She stepped back with an embarrassed smile. “I forgot. You’re not real.”

  “As real as you. I need warning to prepare first.”

  A light breezy touch brushed her cheek. “Now, will you introduce me to your friends? And Skye. I desperately want to meet my granddaughter.”

  Tamara returned to camp with her father at her side. Skye looked up first, shock registering on her gentle face as recognition came in a swoop.

  Beside her, Fane, who had been squatting by the fire, vainly encouraging green wood to burn robustly, gaped at the new arrival, then gave a deep bow to the king.

  Keegan gestured to the youth. “Rise, boy.”

  Jarrod, who rested by the tree, scrambled to stand as well.

  “I thought she would refuse to speak and we’d never have the chance to meet,” Skye blurted and then slapped her hand over her mouth.

  Her grandfather grinned. “In convincing your aunt to forgive me, have I earned a hug from my beautiful granddaughter?”

  “Oh, yes, sir.” She ran and hugged him fiercely.

  Tamara watched with envy, for Skye’s arms did not go through.

  “The queen will be so pleased,” Skye said and released him. “Will you come back with us?”

  He shook his head, eyes downcast. “I exist only in spirit form and am confined evermore to Ashari.” He sounded broken. Tamara had thought he was at peace here. She’d obviously been mistaken. About so many things.

  Jarrod held out his good arm.

  Keegan shook it. “Thank you for taking care of Saira during her time of trial, Lord Jarrod. I worried she would never find your city.”

  “We worried, too, my liege,” Jarrod said. “And please, call me Jarrod. It was a blessed day when your daughter found our wandering city.”

  “Or your city found her,” Keegan said with a grin.

  Jarrod nodded. “The Light works in inexplicable ways.”

  Keegan pointed to Jarrod’s injury. “What happened to your arm?”

  “A break, shortly after we arrived on Isa. It hasn’t healed as fast as I hoped.”

  The king laid his hand on the bandage, a frown on his brow. “No wonder. The wound’s been poisoned.”

  “What? How can you tell?” Tamara inched closer to look at Jarrod’s arm. Then rolled her eyes at her father’s bland look. “Of course, you use magic as casually as you breathe.”

  “How was it poisoned?” Skye asked.

  “We’ve been applying herbs to heal it, sir,” Fane said. “I used the same herbs on Kiron and he was healing.”

  “The exact same herbs?” Keegan asked.

  All remained silent. Tamara voiced their suspicion first. “Thyel!”

  “I’ve been concerned about Thyel’s poultices too,” Fane said, sounding sheepish. “I didn’t want to say anything since he was your friend.”

  She’d been the one to insist he come along. “What does hurting Jarrod gain him?”

  “He might have been jealous,” Skye said gently. “Saw him as a rival for your affection.”

  “The whys and hows can wait.” Keegan reached for Jarrod’s left arm. “For now, if you will permit me, Jarrod, it’s time this arm was whole again.”

  “You can do that?” Jarrod asked. “Even here?”

  Keegan smiled as he worked on Jarrod’s injury. “The loss of flesh has allowed my spirit to delve deeper into the workings of Light, not lessened my ability.” A blue glow formed over Jarrod’s left arm and then sank into his flesh.

  Jarrod sucked in his breath. A moment later he let out a laugh. With his right hand, he fumbled to untie the bandage.

  Tamara stepped up to assist and their fingers got in each other’s way. “Let me help.”

  Jarrod huffed with impatience but moved aside. Freed of its binding, his arm appeared smooth. Jarrod gave a shout of delight.

  “There’s not a mark on it.” Fane sounded impressed.

  A sympathetic glow warmed Tamara and she tentatively stroked his newly healed arm. It was strong and gentle, capable and adept. Just like the man. “It’s beautiful.”

  Jarrod pulled her to him and gave her a fierce hug. The gesture felt like a fervent thank you. She was about to say no thanks were necessary, at least not to her, when he kissed her.

  Tamara reeled at the unexpectedly tender touch. She had dreamed of Jarrod kissing her but the action surpassed her wildest imagining. Her senses reeled as if she’d been swept into Heaven.

  Their kiss slowed and changed, evolving into a tender, loving declaration. This touch hinted at a future. Of a type of togetherness Tamara had never experienced but wanted to cherish with all of her heart.

  Jarrod suddenly pulled back, looking as stunned by the kiss as she was. She blushed steaming hot, feeling shattered that they had to stop, that they were in public, that he might never kissed her like that again. For she remembered Jarrod had not accepted her proposal with spoken words.

  His gazed flickered in every direction, as if he couldn’t believe he’d kissed the king’s daughter in front of the king.

  Her father’s gaze, rife with speculation, first settled on her and then swept toward Jarrod. Skye’s eyes sparkled with a knowing, accepting humor. Who knew what Fane was thinking? He seemed distracted, looking from Jarrod and back toward Kiron.

  “My arm is better than ever.” Jarrod flexed his fingers and then his arm, obviously unwilling to acknowledge the impact his kiss had on her, their audience or on himself.

  “Glad I could help,” Keegan murmured.

  “Sir,” Fane said tentatively. “Would you do the same for my dragon? He was hurt badly in a fight.”

  “The gentle Kiron,” Keegan said. “Of course. Lead me to him.”

  The moment her father was out of hearing, Skye turned to Tamara. “Well?”

  “Well, what?” Did her niece
want an explanation for that kiss? She wouldn’t be the only one.

  “Don’t play innocent,” Skye said. “What happened to your grudge against grandfather?”

  Not the kiss, then. Her gaze flicked to Jarrod.

  He, too, waited, curiosity plain on his face.

  Tamara relented and thought back to her conversation with her father; her anger, bitterness, followed by awe at learning what he had been trying to accomplish with his last magical act.

  Jarrod touched her hand, indicating he’d picked up on her thoughts. This time, she was happy with their extraordinary connection. If her father and Jarrod were to be believed, her ability to mind-talk was a reflection of her magical ability.

  Something she and Jarrod had in common. The idea pleased her. Never in her wildest dreams would she have seen herself as having anything in common with the studious, serious, scholarly Jarrod. His kiss confirmed that more than reading and writing drove Jarrod’s passions. He’d moved from thought to action. She wanted his words, too. She wanted all of him.

  “Tamara?” Skye persisted.

  She flashed her niece a rueful smile. “I blamed my father for dying.” She held up a hand. “I know. Unfair, illogical even, but he was the strongest sorcerer on Ryca, Skye. Yet, his magic-lacking brother murdered him. I assumed father must have been careless or wanted to die. How else could he have been taken unaware by his brother?”

  “Oh.” Skye sounding stunned. “I never saw it that way. You’re right. Ywen should never have been able to kill him. Even with Tamarisk’s help, grandfather was too powerful. Then how did…”

  “His magical guard was weakened.”

  “Why?”

  “He’d been weaving a spell to protect the Light, the magic of Ryca. It sapped his strength, making him vulnerable.” With humble contrition, she added, “He risked it to save our world, Skye, and I’ve been blaming him for abandoning me.”

  Skye gave an exclamation of wonder. Then she took hold of Tamara’s hands. “It’s not your fault. If I’d been trapped for years like a butterfly pinned to a board, alive and aware of my surroundings, unable to move, cry or die, I would have blamed him and everyone else too. I didn’t understand before. No one in our family did or we would not have allowed you to push us away.” She wrapped her arms tightly around Tamara as if she never intended to let go.

  Tamara hugged her back. She was starting to like these unexpected embraces.

  Jarrod was frowning, staring after the king.

  Tamara released Skye, sensing his worry. “What’s the matter?”

  He absently rubbed his recently healed left arm. “Do you think he might know what’s altering Ryca’s history?”

  “I hadn’t thought of that. If you explained what’s been happening I’m sure he’d be able to help us decipher what’s distorting Ryca. He’d want to know about it, anyway.”

  Jarrod grabbed Falcon’s Tome.

  “Father!” Tamara ran to catch up with Keegan.

  He turned from attending to Kiron’s injuries. The dragon flexed his wings, stretched his neck and let out a triumphant bellow.

  Far off in the distance, Halla replied.

  Tamara sent a mental note to the green that she was no longer angry and was sorry for having been in a bad temper.

  A warm mental hug answered her and she sensed Halla winging her way back.

  “Something else requires my attention?” Keegan asked.

  “Jarrod has a question,” Skye said.

  “Sir, my people have been disappearing.” Jarrod opened Falcon’s Tome. “Many of the pages are blank. Something is erasing our historical records and as that occurs, those who penned the work have vanished.”

  “Odd,” Keegan said. “Has anyone witnessed these disappearances? There might be a clue there about how this villainy is being carried out.”

  Jarrod shook his head. “It’s worse than historians being snatched, sir. When I last spoke with Queen Mamosia, she said she didn’t remember one of the historians who had worked with her for years. Which makes me suspect that not only are words being erased, and the historians vanishing, but history itself is being re-written.”

  “May I see the tome?”

  Jarrod handed over the book. The king ran his hand along the face of each page, frowning as the number of blank pages mounted. He shut the book with an angry snap. “Someone’s distorting my spell.”

  Tamara exchanged worried glances with Skye and Jarrod.

  “The one you built to protect Ryca’s Light magic?” Skye finally asked.

  He nodded. “No one knew of that spell except for myself and possibly Tamarisk. He didn’t have the talent or skill to alter it.”

  “And he is dead,” Tamara said.

  Worry was clearly written on Keegan’s face as he handed the book back to Jarrod. Tamara then guessed what bothered him.

  “He’s here, isn’t he?” she whispered, as if a skeleton had risen up and grabbed her ankle. “Tamarisk? He’s on Ashari.”

  “Upon their deaths, condemned souls are drawn to the dark side of Ashari,” the king said.

  “Then how could he affect Ryca now?” Jarrod asked.

  “He can’t. No more than I could effect changes there. If he kept his madness at bay, he could have contacted his kin. As I did, at times, with Saira. Family members are easiest to reach. When she needed to be warned, or urged to follow her quest, I tried to reach her. The contact is delicate. Most people don’t even sense our touch. Even Saira did not know when I gave her this idea or that, from time to time.”

  Tamara frowned. He’d contacted Saira? Then the reason came. While Tamara had been safe, for most of her life, Saira had been crippled, hunted by Uncle Ywen and a demented sorcerer across Ryca.

  In comparison, Tamara’s troubles shrank to miniscule proportion. What had been Saira’s reward for rescuing her mother, sister and brother? Tamara had rejected and resented her for having been free while she was trapped. She squirmed at her ungrateful, petty behavior.

  On her return to Ryca, she would give her sister a huge apology for years of surly responses and ingratitude. She had much to make up for with all of her family.

  “Tamarisk had no family,” Jarrod was saying. “I’ve read his history, from birth to death. There is no hint of a child, brother, sister, aunt or uncle. His parents died when he was barely six. He was brought up by a neighboring couple, who took pity on him.” He grimaced as he added, “Tamarisk killed his adoptive parents once he was old enough to want more freedom than they allowed.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Skye said.

  “Could he have had a child even though it’s not recorded?” Tamara asked.

  “No. Our seers predicted he would be instrumental in Ryca’s undoing so my father kept a close eye on Tamarisk.”

  “As a young man, his movements would have been easy to follow,” Keegan said, “but as an adult, while on guard, he could have cast a spell to hide the truth.”

  “If he had a child, we would have known about it,” Jarrod tapped his book with certainty.

  “How else could Tamarisk tamper with my father’s spell?” Tamara asked.

  “Let me see that book again,” Keegan said. “The man lusted after my wife. He would have hidden any child by another woman. Even considered the baby not his, seeing it as less than perfect if born of any woman other than Mamosia. Here it is.”

  Jarrod leaned over to read. “Son of Drummond and Raina…but that is Thyel’s parentage.”

  “Thyel?” Tamara asked, as dread returned.

  “Drummond is Tamarisk’s adoptive mother’s family name,” Keegan said. “Tamarisk had the legal right to choose it for himself, if he so wished. He didn’t.”

  Jarrod took the tome back. “The truth was recorded here but in a twisted fashion.”

  “As you say, Falcon’s Tome always records the truth,” Keegan agreed. “How one interprets it, is up to the reader.”

  “My father must have known,” Jarrod said. “I wonder why he never me
ntioned it?”

  “Perhaps he died before he could,” Tamara suggested gently. According to Saira, Jarrod’s father had been killed while Jarrod was away.

  “Thyel?” Skye shook her head. “Now it makes sense why he would poison Jarrod. He might have discerned Thyel’s birth history from Falcon’s Tome.”

  “As could father,” Tamara added.

  “He was nervous when you said you’d seen grandfather,” Skye agreed.

  Tamara had been played for a fool. She’d promised never to trust anyone again, and while rejecting her family, she ended up trusting an enemy. She wanted to crawl away in shame, but she was done with hiding.

  “Where could he have gone?” Skye checked toward the horizon with concern. “I doubt he’s really scouting the land.”

  For miles around them, the land appeared peaceful and serene. Tamara wondered if any of it was real.

  Keegan closed his eyes and appeared still, as if listening to a silent message. He opened his eyes and a frown marred his forehead. “He’s not on the part of Ashari I can sense. He must have gone to the dark side.”

  “To see Tamarisk?” Tamara asked, knowing the answer.

  Her father nodded. “I wish him well with that quest. The dark side of Ashari isn’t a place I would wish on my worst enemy.”

  Perhaps Thyel would find his just reward yet. She fervently hoped so.

  “What about Bevan?” Skye said. “Could my brother’s disappearance have had anything to do with the distortion of grandfather’s spell?”

  “He’s missing, too?” Keegan asked.

  “Yes, sir,” Jarrod said. “Although he isn’t a historian, Prince Bevan went missing at about the same time as my people. I wondered if there might be a connection.”

  “He’s a powerful young boy,” Tamara said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he found your spell and noticed something was wrong.”

  “Making him too dangerous to leave unharmed,” Jarrod added in a somber tone.

  Chapter 16

  “Tamara,” Skye said, “Bevan told me he planned to speak with you that morning. Did he mention anything about grandfather’s spell?”