The Temple of Sacrifice

by Tameri Etherton

  Grander than this? His shock sounded in her mind.

  “Much more. There is a large harbor where ships bring goods from all seven kingdoms. Have you ever swum in the ocean, Gian?” When he shook his head, she said, “Well, you shall. The weather is warming up and soon it will be nice enough to swim at the beach.” Suddenly, she felt a longing for Talaith, a physical ache that wrenched her heart.

  What is it, Darennsai? Gian asked.

  I miss my home.

  There was a moment of silence in her mind. My home is with you now.

  Gian, why can you not return to the vier? When he’d showed her his maimed tongue where Zakael had burned him so severely he was unable to speak, she had touched his mind with her power to lessen the horrors her half-brother inflicted on him. Even though he trusted her, he’d not told her why he couldn’t go home. I was unaware of the woodland folk becoming sheanna.

  She heard a gasp in her mind. Not sheanna, no. The tall man did things to me that would make Eleri sheanna, but that is not why I cannot return.

  Then why? I know when Eleri are away from the vier, they fade a little each day. Is it the same for faeries?

  Perhaps. I have heard Prince Rhoane has a woodland faerie as his servant.

  Alasdair. He is Rhoane’s valet. Hearing Gian say Rhoane’s name so casually tore at Taryn. In a matter of days, she would see him again. The thought thrummed through her mind.

  I am sorry, Darennsai. I did not mean to upset you.

  Do you know Illanr or Carld? They are Alasdair’s sisters. They live in the Weirren.

  He shrugged. My clan is not often found at court.

  They reached the gate and the guard smiled while greeting Taryn with a stiff salute. She left Nikosana with a groom and gave Ashanni a quick kiss on her muzzle before heading into the palace. Duke Anje grabbed her in a bear hug and spun her around.

  “My darling niece has come home at last.” He held her out, scrutinizing her. “You’re positively whittled away to nothing. We’ll have to fatten you up before we see your mother. She’ll have my head for lunch if she thinks I’m to blame for this.”

  “I’m well, Uncle, thanks for asking,” Taryn said dryly. “I’d like you to meet a friend of mine.” She reached behind her and pulled the faerie to stand before her uncle. “Duke Anje, this is Gian. Gian, this is my uncle, the formidable and yet utterly lovable Duke Anje. This is his home.”

  “And yours as well, my darling.” He bent to Gian and said, “It is an honor to have one of the woodland folk staying in my humble home. You are welcome, Gian.”

  He clasped Gian’s arm and Taryn saw there were tears in his eyes. He wiped them away before saying to Kaida, “And you, dreadful beast that you are, I see you’re still hanging about with my niece.”

  Kaida barked and he laughed.

  “She says she hopes you still have that wonderful mutton you fed her last visit,” Taryn said.

  “Does she now? We’ll just have to see what we can find for the mongrel. Come inside. There are many who are eager to see you.” Taryn’s step faltered and Anje turned back to her. “What is it, dear?”

  “Who?”

  “Just the usual—servants, myself, Lords Tinsley and Aomori, other nobles from across the land.” He stopped. “Prince Rhoane is not here, if that is what you are asking.”

  A flush spread across her cheeks. “How much do you know?”

  “Nothing more than court gossip and speculation.” He took her arm. “If you wish to confide in me, I am a wonderful listener. I will also respect your silence.”

  They found a room for Gian close to Taryn’s and left him in the capable hands of several servants. He begged to stay with her, but she explained that here, she was a princess and she must follow certain protocols. Sleeping with a faerie in her room was frowned upon unless he was her betrothed.

  He’d blushed when she said the last part and Taryn was reminded of his innocence. As he’d explained it to her, a faerie of sixty-four seasons was the equivalent of ten Aelan seasons, making him, in essence, a contemporary of Tessa’s.

  While Gian rested, Taryn dined alone with Duke Anje in his private room. As they ate, he told her about the escape of the Shadow Assassin. Less than a month after she and Rhoane left Celyn Eryri, someone had knocked out the guard and freed the assassin. By then, she and Rhoane had left Gaarendahl and since Lliandra didn’t know where they were, she let them continue their journey with the hope they would be safe.

  When Taryn told Anje of the conversation she overheard at Caer Idris, he scratched at his beard, which meant something troubled him. It was one of the little things Taryn loved about her uncle. “Because there were no attacks on my travels here, I believe Valterys is not the one controlling the Shadow Assassin. He made it very clear to Zakael that he needed me alive. He said something about taking me to Rykoto at mid-summer,” Taryn explained.

  “Do you know for what purpose?”

  “No, but he said he needed my blood and my blade.” She retrieved the scroll she’d smuggled from his library. “I found this when I was there. It mentions those two things. There must be another sheet, but I couldn’t find it.”

  Anje took the paper from her and read it. “I know this scroll. I spent my childhood at Caer Idris and I, like you, read everything I could get my hands on. At the time, it was locked in my uncle’s rooms. Passing strange that it was just lying around.” Anje tapped his fingers on the parchment, frustration apparent on his face. “If I’d known, I would’ve looked for it when I visited Valterys.”

  Taken aback, she asked, “When did you go to my father?”

  “Just after you and Rhoane left for the Narthvier and Carga’s purification. I thought it was past time I rekindled my Dark Shanti.”

  “You did that for me, didn’t you?” He could’ve been killed at Caer Idris, but he risked Valterys’ wrath for her. Warmth spread from her heart to her pendant and through her veins, blooming into a well of gratitude. “Thank you.”

  “I would sacrifice myself a thousand times over for you, my darling.”

  “I hope you never have to. But, Uncle, there’s another reason I need your strength.” She told him of her travels to Gaarendahl, ending with her appearance at his door. She left out nothing and Anje listened without interruption as she spoke.

  When she finished recounting the events, she said in a near whisper, “There’s something else that you should know. It was Marissa who tried to kill Hayden at Ravenwood. When I confronted her about what she did to Rhoane, Ynyd Eirathnacht sang to me of her betrayal. She tried to deny it, but I know it was her.”

  He rested his chin on steepled fingers, processing all that she’d told him. When finally he spoke, his voice sounded as tormented as she felt. “You should never have had to suffer this. Your sister will be punished for her crimes. As for your brother and father, they, too, will pay. We must tell your mother all that you’ve shared tonight and declare war on them immediately.”

  “No, Uncle, that is not the answer. If we go to war only because of what they did to me, then hundreds will die for my vanity. I cannot condone any action that will lead innocent men to their deaths. Furthermore, I told you this in confidence. You can’t tell anyone.

  “Lliandra is an empress first, a mother last. As for Marissa, I will deal with her when the time is right. What she did was inexcusable, but she can still be of use to us. She is, after all, Zakael’s lover and spy. We now know exactly whose side she’s on and can move to make Eliahnna the heir to the Light Throne.”

  He looked at her, surprised. “You are next in line for the throne.”

  “I don’t want it. I could never rule Aelinae the way my sister would. Besides, I am also heir to the Obsidian and Weirren thrones—do I wear a crown for all three?”

  “Perhaps that is what the gods have in store for you. Have you thought about that? You cannot hide from your destiny. The sooner you embrace it, the better. If it is your fate to wear the triple crown, you must be willing to accept it graciou
sly.”

  “I don’t think that’s what the gods have in store for me. There’s a reason Ohlin gave me the name Galendrin, and the Eleri call me Darennsai. One is the Keeper of the Stars; the other, Daughter of the Sky. I’m pretty sure they have a plan for me, even if they won’t admit it. But enough of this. What else has happened in my absence?”

  Her uncle took the hint and told her of Paderau business and then what was happening at the Crystal Palace. Her friends were well but missed her terribly. Ellie had recovered from her ordeal but refused to leave the palace. A stab of guilt twisted her gut as surely as would a savage blade. She’d been too focused on herself, with the belief she shouldn’t burden them with her troubles. In a gentle voice, her uncle reminded her that just a word or two that she was well was all they needed.

  He was right and no amount of clever excuses could deny it, but he hadn’t told her the worst yet. “Rhoane stayed in Paderau for a night on his way to Talaith.”

  Taryn swallowed a lump in her throat and asked, “How was he?”

  “He was as pale as you are, my dear, and he looked as if he could use a good meal, too. He was quiet, more than usual. I could sense in him a great discord.” Her uncle looked away suddenly.

  “What is it? If there’s something I need to know, please tell me.” She held his hand in hers, running her thumb over his soft skin.

  “He stayed in your rooms. I hope you can forgive me, but it seemed very important to him, and I could not deny him this one courtesy.” Anje’s face was pained as he looked at her. “You aren’t upset, are you?”

  A small cry escaped her. “No, Uncle, you did the right thing. That means he still cares for me.”

  “Of course he does. What would make you think otherwise? It is his love for you that torments him. Do you know what it is to be broken when you are Eleri? He holds his shame in his soul and this splits him in two. Only he can heal the divide.”

  “That doesn’t make it any easier to bear.”

  He pointed at her runes. “As long as you wear these bonds, never doubt. Rhoane is as committed in his love to you as ever he was or these would be unraveling. It’s that love that will heal him in time. Have faith and the strength of patience to give him the time he needs.”

  Patience was not her best trait, but it wasn’t as if she had any other choice.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Duke Anje’s fireballs were getting fiercer, closer together. Taryn ducked to avoid one, tangling herself in a vine that trailed from the tree above her. It wasn’t until she was upended, her silver hair hanging nearly to the ground, that she realized her uncle had set the vine on her. He chuckled smugly to himself, until Taryn grabbed him with a creeper. Then his smug smile turned upside down with the rest of him.

  The vines gently lowered them to the ground, where they discussed her growing skill with Dark Shanti. Anje couldn’t conceal how impressed he was with her abilities, nor could he disguise his disbelief at how quickly she learned each new element. Even so, Taryn was not immune to injury. More than once she attempted something before Anje thought her ready, with disastrous consequences.

  Just that morning, she’d tried to re-create the fire and ice she made after her coronation. Instead of setting herself on fire, she’d demolished a wooden cart nearby. When she tried to bring water from the river to douse it, she flooded one of the storerooms. It was a difficult reminder that she was not all-powerful and her uncle’s recriminations to learn slowly were to be heeded. Most of the time.

  “You learn quickly, Taryn, but there is danger in having great power. You could call forth all the gold in my coffers; however, your riches would be fleeting. You see, there is an attachment to things we have as individuals. If I take all of your gold, it will eventually wish to return to you, and I would suffer severe consequences for my theft.”

  “ShantiMari has an honesty policy?”

  “In a sense. If you abuse it, you must be prepared to accept what the power gives back. There have been those throughout history who believe themselves exempt from such rules. They are the practitioners of the Black Arts. Men and women who corrupt their souls and twist their power to evil ends. Whoever controls your Shadow Assassin is a master in the Black Arts. It takes a great amount of ShantiMari to control another’s soul.”

  “When I searched the assassin’s thoughts, there was nothing. No memory, no thought, no pain or fear. It was like he didn’t exist beyond hunting me.”

  “A Shadow Assassin is brought from the spirit world and not made of flesh, but Rhoane told me when he cut the assassin, he bled.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It could be the man who hunts you was barely alive when he was turned. I dare not try to understand the ways of Black Masters. Once you delve into the mysteries, your soul is lost for all time. Now,” he said, changing the subject, “there are a few more lessons I have for this morning and then we’ll go for a ride along the river. Ashanni misses you, and I have a pony for Gian that I think he’ll enjoy. But first, see that bench over there? I want you to move it to here.” He pointed in front of them.

  The bench was made of solid concrete, granite possibly. “It’s too heavy.”

  “Humor an old man.”

  Taryn focused her concentration on the bench, trying to lift it using just her Dark Shanti. When that didn’t work, she pulled in strands from Eleri and then Light. She struggled and fought against the bench. Sweat ran down her face. Her neck muscles bulged with the effort.

  “It’s no use. It won’t move,” she said at last.

  Anje twitched his finger and the bench jumped from where it had been to settle at their feet. “You see, Taryn, you were using your ShantiMari, yes, but incorrectly.” A snap of his fingers and the bench returned to its place under the sargot tree. Anje explained how she needed to gather the energy around them to move the stone instead of relying on just her strength.

  Taking a breath to center herself, she tried again. The bench stayed as solidly placed as ever. She cursed in frustration.

  “You can practice this. It’s good that you can’t accomplish everything on your first try. Otherwise, you’ll think you’re invincible.” He chuckled.

  “I don’t see how this is funny.”

  “My dear, if everything comes to you too easily, you will become complacent and sloppy. You must always strive for perfection when using ShantiMari or you might cause great harm to yourself or those around you, but many things take practice and seasons to perfect. I have one more thing to show you and then we’ll be done for today.” He took her hand and winked at her. “I think you’ll like this.”

  One moment they were standing in the garden and the next, in Duke Anje’s chambers. Taryn looked around, blinking. “How did you do that?”

  “It’s fairly simple once you understand the basics. It’s a trick of the Dark and not many can accomplish it. For someone like Baehlon, this is impossible, but for a great mage like Myrddin, it would be as easy as lighting a torch.” He returned them to the garden and Taryn gasped. He explained how to use shadows and darkness to propel them through space. Physics wasn’t something Aelinae was concerned with, apparently. If she could get past that, the possibilities of what she could do would be limitless.

  “If the Dark can manipulate space, and the Eleri time, it doesn’t seem fair the Light can move a storm.”

  “Affecting the weather is only part of it, but your mother should be the one to explain it to you.”

  “Yeah, like that’ll ever happen.”

  “I believe we’ve done all we can for today. Let’s find your faerie and go for a ride.” He put his arm around her shoulder and they walked together inside the palace, discussing their travel plans for the next morning. As much as she hated to leave the solace of her uncle’s home and the glorious shower he’d installed just for her, they’d been in Paderau almost a fortnight and it was time. Time to face not just her future, but also her fears.

  Taryn kept her voice neutral, but her excitem
ent at returning to Talaith bubbled just under the surface. “You really shouldn’t spoil him so much, Uncle.”

  Anje started to defend himself and laughed, a full-bellied chortle that captured Taryn in its gaiety. Everyone knew his spoiling wasn’t so much about Gian’s well-being as it was about making his niece happy.

  Gian loved his pony, so much so he spent several bells grooming her until her hair shimmered in the sun. He plaited her mane and tail, adding colorful ribbons that twirled with each step. The transformation in Gian was startling. Gone was his shaggy, lice-ridden hair, replaced with shining copper curls cut short in the latest court fashion. With the abundance of food available, he gained enough weight that his bones didn’t protrude at wicked angles. Lords Aomori and Tinsley had taken Gian as their pet project, dressing him in Hayden’s childhood clothing and teaching him court manners.

  They spoke in a kind of sign language they’d developed with the faerie. Each time Taryn watched the three of them from afar, she was more and more grateful to the young lords who were kind to Gian, gentle with him, and coaxing his trust in small measures.

  By the time they were to leave Paderau, the three had formed a bond Taryn didn’t want broken. When she told the lords they would be accompanying them to Talaith, Gian’s hands flew in a flurry of excitement, matched only by Aomori and Tinsley’s elated replies.

  The pace of their travels, with all the carts and carriages making the trip slow moving at best, chafed at Taryn. During the day, she distracted herself with lessons with the duke or riding beside Gian, learning his finger language. At night, she sat around the campfire, drinking with the other soldiers and listening to their songs and boastful tales, all the while missing her friends and betrothed.

  By the time they crested the final hill before Talaith, Taryn was weary of the saddle and ready to stay in one place for more than a sennight. When she thought back, she realized with a shock she’d been either traveling or in a coma for much of the past six months. Her bed at the palace beckoned and she urged Nikosana forward.