FIERCE: Sixteen Authors of Fantasy

by Mercedes Lackey

  “Why? What’s going on?”

  “Just come with me. It’ll be… she needs you, okay?” He wouldn’t say anything else.

  The library was a huge room. Even so, papers and books overflowed from every shelf. The merfolk’s curiosity extended to many subjects, but their watery cities were no place for the materials they collected on land. Someone once told me that the Grotto’s library held a more complete history of my own land than our universities did. I had no doubt that it was at least a more objective one.

  We entered the round room near the painted ceiling. Three balconies separated us from the floor, with doors leading off of each level. Glass cases set into the walls between shelves featured collections of gems and stones, dragon scales, insects, plants, maps, and anything else that could be kept and preserved.

  Rowan should have been wandering around looking at everything. Instead, she sat curled up in a soft chair on the bottom level near a table that was covered in books and loose papers. Mariana sat at the other side of the table, and Arnav paced behind her, paging through books he pulled off of the shelves seemingly at random, then shaking his head and returning them. I greeted them, then took the chair next to Rowan’s.

  “I’m sorry I had to leave the party so early last night,” she whispered. Sitting as she was with her hair damp and pulled back into a pair of plaits, she looked as though the morning’s trials had erased five years from her age. “I hope no one thought badly of me.”

  “No,” I told her. “You’re the mystery woman, now. When I went back, everyone was asking about you.” I hoped that would please her, but she seemed too distracted.

  Kel came over and gave Rowan’s hand a squeeze, and Niari offered an encouraging smile as they followed a few others out of the room through a lower-level door, leaving me and Rowan alone with the elders.

  Mariana reached for several flat, cream-colored pages covered in fresh ink. “Aren, you thought that someone may have placed a binding on Rowan when she was young in order to keep her magic a secret.”

  “It made sense to me.”

  “It seems you were correct.”

  I’d never been less pleased about being right, but at least we knew.

  Mariana turned to Rowan. “There’s no way for us to know who did this, or exactly how, but what’s happening here is consistent with the bindings that were once performed on Sorcerers in Tyrea as precautions or punishments. According to our records, it was done by Potioners, using a formula we haven’t tracked down.”

  I winced. Potioners. No wonder I hadn’t found records in the old Sorcerers’ records. They’d have had nothing to do with each other.

  Mariana caught my expression, but said nothing about it. “The methods used in your case seem to have been somewhat…” She looked to Arnav.

  “Sloppy?” he suggested, and Mariana nodded.

  “That will do. Not surprising, given where you come from.”

  “Does that mean it will be easier to get rid of?” Rowan asked, not sounding hopeful.

  “I’m afraid not,” Arnav said. “Now, most records are not complete. People who had this done to them were able to disappear quite effectively because there was no trace magic to track them by. It was hidden, completely useless.”

  Rowan didn’t say anything, so I did. “Why has she been able to use it, then?”

  “This interested us,” Arnav said, “these instances of her healing you, but never herself. It’s happened twice now?” Rowan nodded, but didn’t look up from studying her hands as they rested against her thighs. “When we say the methods were sloppy, we mean that while the binding is rigid, it’s not without flaws. This may be one of them. A certain amount of stress on the mind or emotions plus a build-up of magic, perhaps aided by proximity to a magic-user, caused some sort of leak.”

  Rowan lifted her head. “If it’s relieving pressure, why did it hurt so much?”

  Mariana stood and set the papers down in front of her. “We don’t know. It may be some sort of punishment for using magic, a failsafe of sorts. Or it may just be your body’s reaction to that unfamiliar power. We can’t know without speaking to whoever did this. So much depends on the individual magic-user. Do you know of anyone in your country who might have been able to do this? Perhaps someone who worked with potions or herbal remedies?”

  “No. But my mother would.”

  Mariana and Arnav glanced at each other. “Are you sure?” Arnav asked.

  “I’m sure. My grandmother once told me that my father wanted to name me Holly, but my mother convinced him to change it before my naming day. Rowanwood is supposed to protect against…” She stopped and took a shaky breath. When she spoke again, her voice cracked. “Against witches. She knew what I was.”

  I knew what she was thinking. “You’re not a monster,” I told her.

  “I know.” She didn’t sound convinced.

  “So what do we do?” I asked. “If we find the person who did this, can it be undone?”

  “No. I’m so sorry, Rowan.”

  I couldn’t sit still anymore. I stood and paced behind the chairs. Mariana kept her gaze trained on me as Arnav spoke. “We won’t say that there’s no way to fix this, only that no one has ever found one before. We found two documented cases of Sorcerers attempting to use the magic trapped within them to break their bindings.”

  “And?” I asked, growing impatient.

  “In both cases the toll of attempting such a massive and unfamiliar use of magic destroyed them completely,” Mariana said. “One physically ruptured at every one of his joints, and died in great pain. The other vanished completely.”

  Rowan shuddered. “So what happens if we just leave it? If I keep the binding and try to manage the pain?” Arnav hesitated, and she patted his hand. “It’s okay, I think I know. You can say it.”

  He looked away. “In a case like this, according to what records we’ve found, the people all had pain much like you have, which became worse as time went on. You seem to be at a very late stage of this.”

  “Then what?”

  Rowan was watching Arnav, and didn’t see Mariana reach up to wipe a tear from her own eye. “They died, my dear,” she said. “Many went mad from it first, but it ended the same for all of them.”

  “Oh,” Rowan said. “Okay.”

  “What?” I spoke more loudly than I’d intended, and Mariana gave me a sharp look. “There is nothing okay about it. This isn’t how this ends!” Rowan turned toward me, then stood and walked over. She wrapped her arms around me, and I squeezed her harder than I probably should have. “There has to be something. How long does she have?”

  Arnav sat in the chair that Rowan had just vacated, and Mariana walked over to stand beside him. “We don’t know, exactly. Weeks. Months, perhaps. No more.”

  Rowan didn’t react to the news.

  “There’s not much we can do,” Mariana said, speaking to Rowan. “After this morning’s testing, we can only offer advice. Don’t try to use magic again. You’re lucky that the past two times didn’t kill you outright. They certainly weakened you. Don’t expect to be so fortunate a third time.”

  My blood turned cold. I almost killed her.

  “Other than that,” Mariana continued, “all we can offer is a safe place to stay, and help with the pain.”

  “That’s not good enough,” I said. “What if she went to Belleisle? They might know how to help. They wouldn’t turn her away, would they?”

  Mariana tilted her head slightly to one side. “I don’t know. We haven’t had anything to do with that land in years. They have their own problems to deal with there, but Ernis Albion is a compassionate man, and I understand he’s now married to a gifted Potioner. It’s possible they’d take her in for a time.” She emphasized the word ‘her,’ and Rowan lifted her head.

  “What does that mean?”

  “I’ll tell you later,” I said. “But there’s a chance?”

  “There’s always a chance,” Mariana said softly. “I’d suggest goi
ng the other way to see what you could find out from your parents, Rowan, but it would be too far to go in your condition, and for such a slim chance of learning anything useful.”

  “I’ll go.” Kel stepped back into the room. “Rowan needs to be where she’ll get help, not answers. But I can go.”

  Arnav closed his eyes and sighed. “Very well. If you three are agreed on this—”

  “Four.” Cassia appeared behind her brother. “I’m going, too.”

  Mariana narrowed her eyes at the pair of them. “We’ll have to discuss this. Rowan, I’m sorry we can’t do more. Please let us know your plans after you’ve had some time to think about things.” She and Arnav excused themselves, and went out into the corridor with Kel and Cassia.

  Rowan pressed her face against my chest, muffling her words. “Did she say I’m going to die?”

  “She did, but they’re wrong. You’re going to get better. We’ll find a way.”

  She looked up at me. “Do you believe that?”

  “I do,” I said. “I have to.”

  The Grotto was dark and quiet when we left the library. The merfolk had gone back to their homes, and there was no sign of the humans.

  “They were going to town today,” I said. “They took your letters.”

  “Oh, right.” We stopped in front of the kitchen. “You hungry?” she asked, and I shook my head. “No, me either.”

  I extinguished all but one of the lamps, and carried the light over to the sitting area near the window. Rowan followed. She seemed completely drained. Not sad, not afraid, certainly not ready to go find anyone else to help her. Just flat and defeated, and she looked as worn out as I’d been feeling the past few weeks. I sat on the sofa, and she curled up beside me.

  The water was a wall of black outside of the window, sprinkled with tiny, softly glowing, blue lights. I turned the lamp’s flame higher and set it on the table. Maybe seeing something new would make her happy for a few minutes.

  “Can I ask what you told them?”

  “Who?” she asked. “Oh, in the letters? I don’t remember exactly. I told Callum and Felicia what had happened—not about you being an eagle and all of that, but about you helping me. Not a lot of details. I explained what I could about what magic really is to Callum.” Her continued belief that he couldn’t be a part of the plan to kill off people like her touched me in a surprising way. It was more loyalty than he deserved, but I wouldn’t be the one to disillusion her. Not now. “I told him I’m not coming back, and not to look for me. Maybe he’s not, anyway. I hope not. I told Felicia I’m sorry I won’t be at her wedding.”

  “And your parents?”

  “I sent my love to Ashe and my sisters. I told my parents that I know what I am, and that whatever happened to me when I was little to keep my magic inside is what’s causing my pain. Maybe my mother knew that already, I don’t know. I don’t think I was very nice about it.”

  They don’t deserve nice, I thought, but kept my mouth shut. I didn’t want her to defend them.

  “I should have waited to send the letters,” she said after a minute of silence. “Maybe I would have said nicer things if I’d known I wasn’t going to see them again.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to tell her that of course she’d see them again, that after we found someone to help her, she could send them a message to meet us near the border. I wanted to say that she had a long life ahead of her, as much time as she wanted for that sort of thing, more than she ever could have expected in her old life. But I couldn’t.

  All of the learning I’ve done, the lengths I’ve pushed my magic to so that it would grow, the secrets I’ve kept so that I could accomplish it… and I can’t do anything when it really matters.

  Well, that wasn’t entirely true. There was one thing I could do, though she might not like it.

  I didn’t realize how hard I was gripping the arm of the seat until Rowan reached over and pried my fingers open and twined hers into them.

  “It’s okay,” she said. “None of this is your fault. You’ve done more to help me than anyone has. Ever.”

  She gasped as a face materialized from the darkness beyond the window. Huge and hideous, it seemed to be all blank, white eyes and a gaping mouth filled with teeth like mismatched swords and knives. It filled the window and stared into the room for a few minutes, flexing its massive jaw, and then turned and swam away, its long body weaving its way back into the darkness.

  “What was that?” She didn’t sound afraid. Maybe once you’ve touched a dragon and come out alive, a monster behind a glass wall isn’t so frightening.

  “Kel called it Fangface. I don’t know what it is,” I said. “It was here last night after you went to bed and almost everyone was gone. It stays in the depths during the day and comes up at night. It likes the lights.”

  She shivered. “I hope the merfolk are all safe in their homes.”

  “They know how to handle these things.”

  We waited for a while longer, but Fangface didn’t reappear. “I didn’t realize you were up so late last night,” Rowan said. “You should be getting more sleep while you can. While it’s safe.” She stood, still holding onto my hand. “It’s been a really long day. I need to go to bed, but I don’t want to be alone. Will you stay with me?”

  As if I could say no.

  Chapter XXXI

  Rowan

  THE FOG BEGAN TO LIFT from my mind as Aren followed me up the smooth curve of the staircase and back to my room, but everything still felt wrong. I knew I should be feeling something. Sadness, perhaps, or a sense of loss. I should have been grieving the end of the life I’d hoped for, even if I’d never managed to pin down exactly what I wanted that life to be. Instead, I felt nothing but exhaustion after the morning’s trials and the emotional upheaval of what the elders had told me—or rather, had told us. Aren had actually taken the news worse than I had. He seemed to want to find a solution, to keep searching until we’d exhausted every possibility.

  All I wanted to do was rest.

  I stepped behind a screen to change out of my clothes and into the pale blue sleep pants the merfolk had left for me. The fabric was thin, and softer than anything I’d ever felt before, like wearing a cloud. The top was made of the same, and looked more like underwear than a proper thing to wear in front of people, just loose fabric and thin straps. I slipped it on, then shook the braids from my hair, leaving loose, clean, still-damp waves hanging over my shoulders. Not suitable for visitors, but the thought of Aren seeing me in it pulled me out of my emotionless stupor and sent pleasurable shivers over my skin.

  I stepped back into the room and found Aren standing near the fireplace, which burned with a smokeless fire. He seemed distracted and troubled.

  A week ago I wouldn’t have noticed that, I thought. He kept his thoughts and emotions buried far below the surface, but I was learning to recognize when he was trying to hide something.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked. He turned toward me and stared for a few seconds, not trying to hide the way his gaze traveled over my body, drinking me in. My skin prickled in spite of the fire’s warmth, and I realized that the only thing I wanted, the only thing that might make me feel alive, was to be close to him.

  “Nothing,” he said at last, and turned away to sit on the edge of the bed. “Everything, really, but there’s nothing you can do about that. I’m just trying to think about what we should do next.”

  “Are we going to go to that island place?” I climbed across the bed and sat behind him.

  “I don’t see what other choice we have. Ernis Albion is a powerful Sorcerer with no ties to Severn, and his current wife is a Potioner. If someone like her did this to you, maybe she’ll know how to fix it. It’s just a lot to think about, and traveling there won’t be easy, especially if your pain gets worse.”

  “I’m sorry.” I reached out a hand and laid it on his back, over the center of his scar. “If this is too much, you don’t have to do it.”

 
He looked back over his shoulder and smiled sadly. “I want to. It’s just… this isn’t what I expected it to be. I wanted to help you, but I didn’t think I’d actually care so much if things didn’t work out.”

  “Well, if it makes you feel any better, this isn’t exactly what I expected when I stopped to help that eagle in the forest.”

  His attempt at a laugh caught in his throat. “Who knew an act of compassion could muck things up so horribly, right?”

  I pulled myself closer, so that my knees rested on either side of his hips. “I don’t regret any of it,” I whispered, and brushed his hair aside to kiss the back of his neck. “There’s still a chance for me. This hasn’t exactly been the fairy-tale adventure I always dreamed of, but it’s brought me here with you. I wouldn’t change anything.”

  He sighed, and reached up to take my hand and press it against his lips. A warm ache spread through my chest, a mixture of sadness and a strange sort of gratitude. I sat back so I could run my fingers lightly over his shoulders, and he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

  This wasn’t like it had been at the lake house. Here, there was no reason for me to stop touching him. The heat of pure desire washed over me, and this time, I relaxed into it.

  I pressed my fingers harder into him. The muscles under my hands were hard and knotted. I once heard someone talk about a person having the weight of the world on his shoulders, and I thought it would feel something like this. I reached under his arms to unbutton his shirt.

  “Shouldn’t you be the one getting special treatment?” he asked, but held his arms back as I pulled his shirt off.

  “Just tell me what you’re thinking. I want to hear your voice.” The beautiful part of his scar was almost invisible in the firelight, but I could see it well enough to trace it again with my fingers before I went back to kneading his shoulders with both hands. His skin burned under my fingers, and under my lips when I brushed them against his back. He tensed, then relaxed slightly.