Hushed, Tales of Ryca, Book 2

by Shereen Vedam

  She shook her head. The conversation with her nephew was still unclear. How could she have been so distracted as to not listen to what he’d said?

  Her father stepped closer and touched her forehead.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Helping you remember,” he murmured.

  Light sparked inside her eyes. Warmth spread from his fingers and the Light formed little balls that raced up and down at the edge of her vision. Then the Light balls rolled away.

  Tamara was in the castle’s breakfast parlor speaking with Thyel. The excitement of what they planned for that night tingled along her spine.

  He touched her cheek and she wanted to lean into his palm. Instead, acutely aware of the wide-open parlor door and the guards outside, she kept her distance. She would be in his arms soon enough.

  This night’s event was the most daring thing she’d ever done. The risk was worth the reward. Only four days remained before her mother’s ultimatum came due. If she didn’t know by then whom to marry, she would be forced into Gideon’s arms. She cringed at the very idea of that vile merchant touching her. One way or another, she would never allow that to happen.

  This plan had to succeed.

  Thyel was her last and only hope. For the past several weeks, she had tried to entice many of the men who courted her to overstep their boundaries. To prove they would put her needs above their fears. All alleged to be deeply in love with her but the moment she tested them, each feared displeasing the queen more than pleasing Tamara.

  All, that is, except Thyel. He’d enthusiastically agreed to do as she asked.

  In fact, it was he who came up with tonight’s plan. Her guard was to be drugged by doctored wine. All that remained was to set the time of the tryst. She was about to ask Thyel that very important question when a knock interrupted.

  Bevan stood uncertainly in the open doorway.

  “May I speak with Aunt Tamara?” he asked in his tentative way.

  “I’m busy.” Tension spiked her suspicions. Had her mother sent him to spy?

  “It’s important.” Bevan stared at Thyel, chin unusually stubborn. “I have to speak with my aunt. Now.”

  Odd to hear her normally reticent nine-year-old nephew sound insistent but she didn’t have time today, nor was she in the mood to humor him. She was about to tell him to go annoy his sister instead when Thyel touched her shoulder.

  “Yes?” she asked, startled.

  “Perhaps you should speak with the young prince. We can finish our conversation in a short while. I’ve some arrangements to make yet and will return to tell you of my success.”

  He bowed to Bevan before heading for the door.

  Tamara folded her arms. “You’ve gained my undivided attention, Bevan. What do you want?”

  Once Thyel was out of earshot, Bevan said, “I don’t like that m.m.m…man.”

  As Bevan’s amazing magical ability continued to blossom, he’d been steadily gaining the appearance and authority of his grandfather, but he’d also gained a stutter.

  She’d thought he’d conquered that speech malady last year. Or so Skye had said. As he’d overcome being mute for the first four years of his life. Something must be upsetting him.

  “In case you haven’t heard,” she said, “I have four days left to choose my mate. That choice is mine alone. Not yours. Not the queen’s.” She picked up her cup of chocolate. “Why do you want to talk to me, anyway? If you’ve a problem, why not annoy your sister with it? The issue is magical, right?”

  He nodded.

  “Then I’m not the one to help, am I?” She took a sip.

  “You’re the only one.” Bevan shut the parlor doors. “I think we m.m.m…may be in trouble.”

  “We? Do you mean you, me, or our family?

  “You, m.m.m…me, our family, perhaps all of r.r.r…Ryca.”

  Tamara had to laugh. He spoke in such a dire tone, as if the world were about to end. She put her cup down and stepped out onto the balcony. This is where I stood with father before he died. She hugged herself, willing her strumming nerves to hush. She normally avoided this area of the castle, but Bevan had made her so nervous she’d forgotten and come out here. A chill wind made the hairs on her arms quiver.

  Why couldn’t he leave her alone? She was about to agree to lay with Thyel to test his loyalty. Who had time for family matters before a momentous event like that? Too much at stake to waste time on imagined problems. “Your Aunt Saira saved our world five years ago,” she said. “There’s no one left to threaten us. Well, threaten Ryca, anyway. Mother seems to enjoy threatening me.”

  She gave Bevan, who’d followed her out onto the balcony a teasing smile to lighten his mood. “Unless you’ve come to save me from my current threat, little nephew, we’ve nothing to talk about.”

  He shook his head solemnly. “We are in danger.” His shoulders just cleared the tall railing as he peered in the direction of Tibor. The city lay like a slumbering giant, with the twin towers and enjoining arch, its shoulder blades.

  “I see what you mean,” Tamara said. “Look at all those horsemen with flaming swords and trolls swarming over the city. Run, sound the alarm!”

  Bevan gave her a tolerant look that reminded her uncannily of her father. “Is that all you see, Aunt Tamara? What about the dragon swooping down with flaming breath or screaming in fury? Don’t you see and hear that, too?”

  The comment rendered her speechless. “How could you…” she began when he interrupted.

  “You have information I need. Only you can help avert world-wide d.d.d…disaster.”

  The boy was beginning to frighten her. “I have no magical talent. Thank you for reminding me of that unfairness. If there’s really a disaster looming, speak to Saira, or Anna, or your sister. Anyone who can really help you.”

  Having said that, she believed he was upset about something. “Would you like me to come with you?”

  “No. Why will you not l.l.l…listen? It’s all tied to your dreams. You spent time with grandfather on his last day. Tell m.m.m…me about what he did. Everything. Please? It’s important.”

  What did that horrible day have to do with anything? The recollection of her precious time spent with her father and all the horror that followed returned to scorch her.

  She shook her head, wanting to block out that day. She backed away until the cold metal railing dug into her back. “Go away.”

  She folded her arms and forced her voice to sound hard and firm. “I can’t help you. I won’t. I want nothing to do with anything father was involved in. Leave me be!”

  Tears welled but anger swept away her grief.

  “Aunt Tamara.” Bevan tugged at her sleeve. “Please, what did you and grandfather speak about?”

  She snatched her arm back. “Nothing.”

  Everyone in her family knew talking to her about her father was forbidden.

  “I might have discovered one of grandfather’s spells,” Bevan continued. “Except it isn’t working properly. Something’s wrong with it. I need to know how he crafted it. Please. Where did he go? Did he say anything about his spell?”

  Tamara ground her teeth to keep her temper in check. “Bevan, I don’t want to remember anything about my father.”

  “B.b.b…but…”

  “Go. Away.”

  “Grandmother said you two spent the whole day together.”

  Tamara cringed. She had been an adoring puppy, seeing no ill in him. Thinking him indestructible. What a fool she’d been. He’d been vulnerable and weak, like any man.

  A knock came and then the door opened to reveal Thyel. “All done?”

  “Yes,” Tamara replied with utter relief.

  Bevan said, “No.”

  “Yes,” she insisted, striding up to Thyel’s side. “I don’t remember that day, Bevan. I can’t help you. I know nothing about his magic. Saira may be able to do something about your distorted spell. She’s good at fixing things.”

  “What distort
ed spell?” Thyel asked.

  “Bevan was …” Tamara began.

  “N.n.n…nothing important,” the boy interrupted.

  She sent him a frowning glance. First, he wanted to talk. Now, he had nothing to say?

  “I’ll come back later, when we can be alone,” Bevan said as he left the room. “M.m.m…maybe in an hour. I will discuss this with Aunt Saira. She might be able to talk to you.”

  “Don’t hold your breath,” Tamara called after him.

  As Thyel shut the door, Tamara sighed resignedly. Yes, that’s exactly what she needed next, her sister and nephew combining forces to torture her about her knowledge of her father. She’d have to ensure she wasn’t so easy to find in an hour. She turned to Thyel. “Let’s go for a ride.”

  “Of course.” Thyel kissed her hand, sending out shivers of anticipation about tonight. “This is our day. We can do anything you wish.” He then rubbed her forehead with a forefinger. A pulse leaped inside her temple and all went dark.

  When she opened her eyes next, her father lowered his hand that had been touching her temple. He had also been holding hands with Jarrod, who was connected to Fane and from him to Skye. She guessed by their unbroken link, they’d all seen what her father must have when he touched her forehead.

  Jarrod looked profoundly sympathetic and Fane concerned. Skye on the other hand, when she met Tamara’s gaze, showed the first hint of true dislike.

  Tamara could find no words to defend herself. She deserved her niece’s wrath. She had not only ignored Bevan, but likely put him in the path of danger.

  Her cheeks heated with shame. How could she have acted like that? Had it been the first time, or had she been mean-spirited every day since being released? In the midst of her turmoil, another stunning thought intruded.

  “Bevan never told me about a tall white-haired man coming to challenge him,” Tamara whispered.

  “You were under a misdirection spell,” her father said. “We must find Thyel.” All King and Commander, his voice whipped out the order.

  “Misdirection? Thyel be-spelled me?” Could these revelations get worse? He can work Light?

  “More like twisting Light into Darkness,” her father said.

  “You couldn’t have known.” Jarrod’s arm went around her in support.

  Tamara was stricken. “I didn’t trust my family, yet I trusted him, an enemy.”

  “Blinders are made not just by spells, Tamara, but from our own fears.” Her father’s gentle tone made her feel worse.

  “This brings us back to our original question,” Jarrod said. “Could Thyel be Tamarisk’s missing kin?”

  “Yes,” the king said. “I tasted Tamarisk’s magical scent on you.”

  A burning rage took over Tamara’s shame. Thyel had used her. She’d allowed it.

  Just then Halla winged overhead, landing gracefully nearby. The wind of her descent bent branches and flattened grass. In her jaws, she carried a dead deer that she expertly tossed to Kiron, who caught and gobbled up the morsel. Halla then turned to Tamara.

  It’s my fault that Bevan’s missing, Tamara whispered in anguish.

  WE FIND BOY, came Halla’s calm answer. ALL WELL.

  All not well! We’re stranded in this strange land. I’m probably responsible for Ryca’s history unraveling. For the Erovians disappearances!

  BE CALM, Halla fluttered her wings looking anything but calm. WHAT MUST WE DO?

  The answer was simple. Find Thyel!

  YES, came Halla’s fervent response. HE BAD TO MY TAMARA.

  She shrugged on her chainmaille and reached for her sword sheath and remembered she’d lost the weapon fighting Denton. Dropping that, she raced toward Halla. Ignoring the hot tears streaming down her cheeks and calls from her friends and family, she swiftly climbed up. Did you see Thyel on your flight?

  NOT LOOK FOR EVIL ONE.

  Even Halla had known better than to trust him.

  Fane was the first to reach Halla’s side, though the others were fast on his heels. “Does she know where Thyel has gone? Is that where you’re going?”

  “No,” she called down. “But I’ll find him.”

  “Tamara,” her father said. “None of this is your fault. I was fooled by Tamarisk. It’s hard to know whom to trust when magic is involved.”

  Unable to stand his sympathy, Tamara shook her head.

  “We’ll help you search.” Fane raced toward Kiron. The bronze knelt to allow him to climb.

  “Wait for me.” Skye ran to join Fane.

  Tamara winced. With this last revelation, she had finally killed her niece’s trust. She swallowed the hurt and gestured for Halla to begin her flight.

  Halla rose into the air. Tamara spared a heartbreaking glance at Skye, who avoided eye contact and refused to acknowledge her in any way.

  * * *

  Keegan’s hand at Jarrod’s elbow restrained him from following Tamara. “We’ve grave matters to discuss about your historians. Allow Tam to deal with this Thyel. I do not envy his future at her hands, do you?”

  He gave the king a concerned look and then nodded his head in agreement. Skye climbed aboard Kiron and sat behind Fane. Then a heated discussion took place between them. Finally, the male dragon, too, was airborne, but he flew in the opposite direction to where Halla took Tamara.

  Tamara’s emotions churned as she clung tight to Halla. He wanted to hold her, to tell her she was loved and deserving of love. He doubted she would believe him.

  He turned to his companion and found King Keegan observing him instead of the flyers. He suddenly felt as if he’d been brought before the king to justify his interest in his daughter.

  Keegan abruptly headed toward the nearby copse of trees. “Come along.”

  Jarrod followed, trepidation and excitement warring within him. For so long now, he’d been worried about his people, Ryca’s history, his whole reason for existing vanishing like the words in Falcon’s Tome. There had been no one he could share his worries with who had the power to resolve the problem. Until now.

  “So,” Keegan said, “tell me of your intentions toward Tam.”

  Jarrod’s snapped his head up and his startled gaze collided with a determined fatherly stare. “Sir, that kiss…”

  “Is irrelevant.” Keegan waved a dismissive hand.

  “Ah.” Jarrod sighed in relief.

  “Your obvious reluctance to commit to her is not.”

  “But…”

  “Do you love her?”

  Beneath that paternal kingly glare, Jarrod couldn’t have lied even if his people were capable of deception. “Yes.”

  “Good. Let’s ensure we are clear about my expectations. I want an invitation to the wedding. I will not be able to attend in person, but be assured, I shall listen to every vow being made.”

  At the king’s words, a clear picture formed in Jarrod’s mind of his wedding. It would take place within the tent city of Erov, of course. Since it was a traveling city, they could easily encamp inside the palace, where Tamara’s family could attend. She would be robed in a diaphanous…

  “Jarrod!”

  At Keegan’s call, he returned to the present. How strange. He hadn’t succumbed to daydreams since he was a boy. “Sir, please understand, I wish to marry Tamara, but I cannot tell her so until I can be certain I will be here to carry through with any marital promise I make to her. I’m unsure if I will even exist tomorrow.”

  “Let us solve your historian riddle then,” Keegan took command of Falcon’s Tome.

  “Sir,” Jarrod began tentatively, wanting to voice a question that had been plaguing him since they arrived on Ashari. “Have you seen my father here?”

  Keegan gave him a quick raised-eyebrow look before returning his attention to the book. “No. He’s an Erovian and all of you are a tricky breed. I’ve not quite sorted out your purpose yet.”

  “Our role is clearly outlined in there,” Jarrod said pointing to the tome. “Every Erovian, from childhood, is taught that we ar
e the watchers of events, the historians of Ryca.” Though Jarrod spoke with confidence, he was no longer the same man who had stepped through the gate between Ryca and Isa. Falling in love with Tamara had changed his focus. He wanted more than to merely record events. He wanted to be part of the making of history, too.

  “Every role undergoes change over time,” the king said, as he flicked through the tome. “Has not the recording of history taught your people that?”

  “We never change.” His every word was spiced with doubt.

  “Everyone and everything changes, Jarrod. It is the harmony of life. Without change, all you would have is stagnation and death, which is a reflection of the darker side of Ashari.”

  Keegan held up his hand and Light appeared in his palm. “This is the source of life. It is what we tap into to create change, what people call ‘magic.’ Its purpose is to create.” He shut his fingers and the Light disappeared. “Without change, nothing exists.”

  “Sir, Erov has always been the same.” Why was he arguing this point? He had changed. A testimony to the king’s words.

  “Erov has been ever evolving,” Keegan said. “It has changed so much you’ve forgotten where you came from. That discussion is for another time. For now, we must focus on what’s happening to your book and to the other Erovians.” The king shut the book and tapped the tome’s leather bound cover. “Tell me your story.”

  Jarrod related all that had occurred to bring him, Thyel, Fane, Skye and Tamara on this journey that landed them on Ashari. He was barely finished when a strange sensation crept over him.

  He’d felt this same eerie feeling when the historians began to disappear in Erov. As if the world was slowly dying. The idea brought fear hammering at his heart. Had he brought his troubles into this peaceful resting place? “Something’s the matter, sir.”

  “Very perceptive, Chief Councilor,” Keegan said, looking around with a frown. “I, too, sense a disturbance in the Light.”

  * * *

  Tamara stroked her fingers along Halla’s scales as her gaze fell back toward Jarrod’s and her father’s retreating forms. How quickly the two men had taken to each other. Discovering how Thyel had manipulated her probably sealed any chance she had of earning Jarrod’s respect. Was that why he chose to stay with her father? His desertion on top of Skye’s brought a lump to her throat.