“Gentlemen, times are changing.” A grumble of assent accompanied this statement. “The Princess Sarelle is dead, and we are left with a rare opportunity, an opportunity to instill everlasting peace.”
A few more people grumbled, and one man shouted, “Why would we want peace with those bloody Neaux bastards?”
“I believe enough needless blood has been shed, don’t you? We were once a great nation envied by all that surrounded us, and now we are weak, and the once-great houses are crumbling and dying.”
A few men shouted their exaltations, and the others shouted their indignation.
The class lines formed themselves with this statement, merchant-born to one side and house-born to the other. The one binding them together was Adair. I could see it in their admiration and how they hung on his every word.
“I have brought a diviner here to help us plot a new course. Maea?” He held his hand out to me, and I took it, standing to face the assembled men. They peered at me with curiosity. Their gazes made me uncomfortable, and I fidgeted with my hands and directed my eyes to the floor.
“Maea is the last of the Diranel Diviners. In their time they were advisors to the kings of old, and no decision was made without consulting the House of Diranel. I think in our new kingdom we should learn from old wisdom.” He smiled at me, and the plan became clear.
A servant parted the crowd and brought forth a basin in which for me to scry. He placed it before the assembled men. Candlelight flickered across its surface and something more, a face half-revealed itself before disappearing behind the cloak of the crowd’s reflection. I never felt the call more strongly than I did this night.
Adair grabbed my hand and squeezed. “Will you?”
I nodded as if in a trance. I felt as if everything before this night had led me to this moment. I kneeled beside the basin. Drunk with excitement and anticipation, the boring stares of the men around me faded away. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I cleared my mind of all other thoughts. I needed to see only one thing, the future of Danhad.
I opened my eyes, and my face was reflected, staring wide-eyed up at me, vibrant violet eyes piercing through the endless darkness of the basin.
The water rippled and changed: I stood in a sun-dappled field. Music drifted on the gentle spring breeze scented with new-blooming flora. Coming up the rise, a procession of people wore smiles on their faces and flowers in their hair. At the head of the group, two figures in white wore garlands on their heads. The followers tossed petals in the air, which rained down upon the couple.
The two clasped hands. A statuesque blonde woman with a certain foreign look about her features, her jaw was wider and her eyes were a deep brown, turned to her partner, and her eyes lit up with pleasure. The man, his chestnut hair pulled back at the base of his neck, walked with an upright, regal posture. He smiled, but it did not reach his dark blue eyes. It was the younger of the two youths from my dream.
The boy’s father, a voice whispered in my ear, his bride chosen for a purpose…
The scene blurred, and I stood in the void. From within the emptiness, a white mask-like face glided forward. The blond man’s head tilted back, and the translucent hand cupped his chin. I leaned forward eagerly, hoping at last this man’s identity would be revealed. The apparition turned, and I could feel those hollow eyes upon me. Though the expression never changed, I knew it was pleased.
“Greedy diviner, you know not what you seek,” it mocked in a high, cruel tone.
Darkness descended, and the boy disappeared, leaving only the specter and I.
“I am the diviner Maea, last of the House Diranel. Who are you to impede my vision?” My voice shook.
The apparition laughed, deep and hollow, in response. It, too, disappeared, leaving me in the void.
“You are brave, but when the time comes and all is revealed, you shall regret it.” Its taunting voice echoed all around me.
I stood my ground. Do not give in to the vision, I reminded myself. “I’ll be the judge of that.”
The apparition laughed again. “You know nothing of the world, young one. Let me show you.”
I returned to the field. The laughing procession changed and now consisted of familiar faces: The king and queen, Layton, and even Edalene smiled as they tossed handfuls of flower petals into the air. A woman with her sable curls free flowing, fluttering in the breeze. She wore a gossamer dress of white. She turned to beckon to a man beside her. I looked upon Sabine’s smiling face. The man caught up, grasping her hand. Adair smiled at her.
“This is the future. Their lives have been destined for one another since the beginning,” the voice mocked.
“The future is never certain!” The force of my conviction surprised me.
“Why do you fight it, diviner?” the voice crooned as I watched the procession pull away. I did not answer it. “You can never have him—accept your destiny.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I tried to scoff, but my heart constricted.
“Oh?” the voice teased, full of mocking pleasure.
My surroundings swirled, wind whipped through my hair as a howl of a wounded animal carried on the wind. I turned to find the creature only to find Johai kneeling and pulling at the silvery strands of his hair.
His neck strained as he shouted, and an unearthly sound echoed from his throat. I tried to run to his aid, but my feet halted me. I looked down and found a knife in my hand. When I glanced up again, Johai stood before me, the knife plunged into his chest, a growing stain of blood on his shirt.
I dropped the knife and stumbled back. “No! This cannot be.”
More cold laughter echoed around me. “You will be his destruction, daughter of Diranel. It is for certain.”
I covered my eyes and tried to block out the scene, but I could not forget the image of Johai dying by my hand.
“Why do you fight it, diviner? It is your destiny,” the voice mocked.
The vision contorted, and waves lapped at my bare feet. I smelled the scent of salt air and felt the sting of the breeze on my skin. A woman down the shore from me stared out across the waters. The wind caught her hair and whipped it about like a banner. She stopped along the water’s edge, the hem of her skirt soaked by the sea. She glanced over her shoulder in my direction with a sad smile before she stepped purposefully into the waves. I ran after her, but it made no difference. I could not change the past. The waves consumed her, leaving only a smudge of blackness along the water’s surface before she disappeared.
I called out to her to stop. “Mother!” I sank to my knees. Why did it show me these things? I thought I could control my visions. I was wrong.
“You know this woman; you know her fate. Your own fate will not differ if you deny your destiny…” The voice grew distant.
I jumped to my feet. I twirled around, trying to catch a specter. “You don’t know! You cannot be sure! These things you show me, they are merely tricks!” I wanted to believe it, but a small part of me knew he was speaking the truth, whoever it was.
“Perhaps but even you cannot deny the past.” His words continued to echo through me as one final scene played out before me.
I could feel the bite of the winter wind. I walked beside a cloaked figure as he shivered, climbing up a dangerous mountain path. Ahead in the distance, a cave half-hidden in the flurry of snow promised shelter. Once inside, he drew a circle with coal upon the stone floor. A single candle outlined his form as he read from an old leather-bound book.
The hood he wore kept his features obscured. In horror, I watched as he slit the palm of his hand with a broad dagger. Blood droplets fell to the floor, glittering in the singular candlelight. He made a symbol in the center of the circle using his blood. He retrieved candles from a bag and set them to the four points, north, east, south and west. Shaking from cold, he knelt in the center of the circle.
The familiar voice of a young man spoke in a foreign tongue, his words echoing against the cave walls. Everythin
g went silent, as if he had shut off sounds from the world outside. A deep darkness settled. The young man’s concentration was unbroken, and his gaze fixed steadily forward. Then from the black emptiness it emerged, the cloaked figure, a mask-like face with a greedy smiling mouth. It glided forward, and I could hear his voice in my mind as I had before.
“You summoned me?”
In a whisper, the young man responded, “Yes.”
The apparition entered the circle, his ashen hand outstretched as if beckoning. The young man lifted his head. For the first time, I saw his profile clearly. He had smooth pale skin and deep blue eyes that shimmered in the candlelight like sapphires. My breath caught as I realized too late who he was.
“I will only make a deal if you’re willing to pay the price,” the apparition stated.
“I am willing to pay,” the young man replied. “For the power, I will pay any price.”
The voice laughed high and cruel. “Unloved son, a day may come when you will regret the rashness of your youth. What do you think my power will give you, I wonder. It cannot change your past.” The voice paused, letting his words sink in. “But I will give you power.” I could hear sinister amusement in the apparition’s tone.
“I want the power. You must give it to me,” the young man demanded. His voice trembled.
The apparition laughed again. “You are not in control here, child-magiker… No matter, I will give you the power that you seek.” He moved closer and lifted the young man’s chin with a skeletal finger. “But understand: once the bond is made, we are one and you are mine…”
“I understand.”
“Let it begin!” The apparition disappeared, and the room vibrated with sound, and a sudden bright light obscured my vision.
The light faded as I heard the young man cry out just as a shaft of light shot him through the heart. He collapsed to the ground, where blood pooled around him. He should have died, I thought, though I knew he could not have. He crawled onto his knees, trembling all over. He doubled as if he would vomit, then his back arched, and he screamed in pain, the injury in his chest healed over.
“It is done,” the voice informed him, “but will you regret the price?”
In the dim candlelight, I could see his golden hair had lost all color and was now the color of fallen snow. It was then that the boy turned to face me, rising to his full height. The great roar that emitted from his throat convulsed through him, blocking out all other sound. The great roar died down, and the young man’s eyes looked right through me. The young man was Johai.
Chapter Nineteen
The vision left me as if it were air stolen from my chest. My body trembled as the gathered members of the Order peered down at me, and each wore the face of the specter. I sucked in gulping breaths of air in an attempt to calm myself. The monster that had haunted my nightmares lived inside the man I had once loved.
Adair kneeled beside me and grasped my shoulders. It was a token comfort. Duke Wodell’s face came into focus.
“Well, what have you seen? How shall we proceed?”
I swallowed hard and recalled the purpose of this venture. I needed to put my own personal fears aside, as well as my feelings, for the good of the country.
“I saw Prince Garrison on his wedding day to a Jerauchian woman. I also saw Prince Adair marrying Princess Sabine.” I reserved the information about my mother’s death and the specter’s taunting; those I knew were for my eyes only.
The Order received the news with mixed reactions. I scanned their faces, gauging their feelings. They ranged anywhere from satisfaction of those among the merchant class, even Duke Sixton, and uncertainty among those like Duke Wodell.
He spoke up first. “Do you mean Adair should marry Princess Sabine?”
“It is not for me to interpret but to report,” I replied as I clasped my trembling hands to my sides.
The men grumbled, and a few voices rose, overlapping one another, demanding audience. Adair stood and silenced them with an uplifted hand. The rumbling dissent ebbed and then ceased.
“Gentleman, we must be reasonable in this.”
“I refuse to see a Neaux woman on the throne!” a man shouted.
Adair paced in front of me, where I knelt beside the basin, fearful my legs would give out beneath me if I risked standing.
“Each of you has sworn upon your honor and your immortal souls to adhere to what is most good and right for this country. Times are changing; the old ways have grown weak and stale.”
“Because of those blasted Neaux!” another man called out.
“True, war has left this country torn and damaged. As future king, I seek to empower and to bring new life to our beloved kingdom. Just as we are frail from years of warring with Neaux, so can our former enemies become our allies, and two fragile nations can become one unstoppable kingdom. While we squabble about the old ways, we are enticed by the Jerauchians, who look to woo us with baubles and fair-seeming woman before they strike from the north and take valuable resources there. And to the south we are daily set upon by the Biski, are we not, Mikel?”
Duke Wodell nodded sharply. “It is true, Your Highness. Every day the attacks grow in number and strength.”
“An alliance, an assured alliance, with Neaux would ensure the greatest power for both our kingdoms. Therefore we can crush our enemies and show the world what a great power we truly are!”
The men cheered, their cries melding into one amorphous howl. I thought of wolves, and the sinister laughter of the specter rang in my ears. My stomach churned. Adair’s impassioned words about a marital alliance with Neaux coupled with the lingering effects of the vision were too much for me, and I decided to withdraw.
I had been trying to convince myself for a long time that I did not care for him in that way. Ironic that I was not willing to admit it until I had prophesized his marriage to another woman, my closest friend of all people.
I fumbled blindly down corridors, unseeing past unshed tears, eventually emerging unto a courtyard at the center of the duke’s villa. A stone bench beneath a large tree beckoned to me to sit. My emotions overwhelmed me, and the tears streamed down my face. The rain had stopped, but the air smelt ripe with moisture and damp earth.
Footsteps fell on the flagstones, and I looked up through my tears. Adair stood in the doorway. Flickering candlelight and moonlight mixed, giving his features a washed-out glow.
When Adair spoke, it broke the spell. “You disappeared.”
I nodded, turning my head away to disguise my tears. Even if he had been part of the cause, I did not want him to see.
Adair, not easily fooled, came over and cradled my head in his hands. He brushed my tears away with his thumb. “I hope these tears are not of my doing.”
“They’re not,” I said with a watery smile.
He did not seem convinced, and his seriousness was unusual enough to give me pause.
“You are prepared to marry her, then?”
Adair dragged his thumb across my cheek again and then retracted. He reclined beside me on the bench. “You want to know, truly?” he asked, his tone was light, but it held little of its usual mirth.
“Yes, I would not ask otherwise,” I teased, trying to lighten the mood.
He looked up at the sky, his sapphire eyes reflecting the moon and stars in miniature. “Do you remember that day in the game room when we spoke of duty, and how no choice will be my own?” He smirked then and held my gaze.
“Yes,” I whispered, my breath catching on the word.
“I willingly bear the price of my birth. Sarelle’s death has put our two countries in a precarious place. Sarelle was one half of the pact, if I do not do this, my uncle—” He paused, and I squeezed his hand to reassure him. “He has spoken of sending Edalene to Neaux… I could not let that happen to her. She is only a child.”
He smiled and rested his hand over mine. We stared at one another for a moment. When he leaned in towards me, I did not pull away, though every cell of me cr
ied out at the wrongness of it. My vision promised him to Sabine, and I—I could not let my heart get hurt again. My brain chastised me, reminding me that he was a notorious flirt, but my body responded despite its demands.
His lips capture mine, and all other thoughts dissolved into nothingness. One hand snaked around my waist, the other captured the nape of my neck. I could not pull away even if I wished it. The dominance of his kiss surprised me, and for a brief moment, I feared he would swallow me whole. We pulled apart, panting, just as someone cleared their throat.
I glanced up, and the moonlight bathed the intruder in white light, his hair appeared made of white silk, and his folded arms spoke volumes about his displeasure. Despite his stern countenance, my heart ached for him in equal measure to my horror at being discovered in the arms of Adair. My heart thudded in my chest; not him, not Johai, the man destiny bade me to kill.
The intruder stepped out of the shaft of light and into the shadowed courtyard and revealed Earvin. I exhaled in relief, though embarrassment quickly replaced the emotion.
“My lady, the hour grows late. We should return to the palace.”
Adair, leaning back with one boot hooked on another, seemed nonplussed by the proceedings.
“I will be but a moment,” I said to him, hoping he would understand my not-so-subtle message.
“I think it best I stay and protect your honor, my lady.”
His insinuation colored my cheeks, and Adair’s chuckle did not help matters. I thought to scold Earvin, but I accepted my guilt and listened to reason. Had I lingered longer, I am certain I would have regretted what could have transpired.
“Very well,” I stood and shook out my skirt, deliberately crisp. “Your Highness, I bid you goodnight.”
I bowed and strode past Earvin, who did not reveal his feelings on the matter though I swore I could feel his stare at the back of my skull the entire walk back to the carriage.
Winter droned on, bleak and gray. Rain regularly pelted the palace, trapping its occupants indoors. The mood about the palace grew tense as council meetings continued to decide Sabine’s fate. My visits with her grew fewer as the weeks passed, and I watched in dismay as she lost more weight and the dark circles beneath her eyes grew.
Diviner's Prophecy Page 20