“Do you think that maybe Tionne is behind this?” Tiadaria asked, breaking the silence.
“No. I think there's something else going on here, and I need the two of you to help me figure out what it is. I think Adamon is going to go after Tionne, whether there is evidence against her or not. He tends to censure first and question later. Tionne's had a rough time of it, but I refuse to believe she's capable of something like this.”
The elder quintessentialist paused, studying Tiadaria.
“You need to be more careful, Tia,” he said. “You almost said something really inappropriate in front of Adamon and I wouldn't want him hunting you the way I suspect he will be hunting Tionne.”
“I'd like to see him try.”
“Tia--”
“I know!” She raised her hands, indicating her surrender. “I know. I'll be more careful.”
“Good, because I need both of you right now. More than ever. I need to know who did this to poor little Lemmy and I need to know if it has any connection to Tionne, or to what happened in the graveyard. Can I count on you?”
“Have you ever not been able to count on either of us?” Wynn asked with an odd hitch in his voice. Tiadaria glanced at him but said nothing.
“No,” Faxon said. “You've both always been very loyal to me.”
“Then why should now be any different?”
Wynn practically ran from the room, banging the door hard on his way out. He looked at Tiadaria, who shrugged.
“What's going on with him?” he asked.
Tia shook her head, her eyes sad.
“It's complicated and we don't have time for it now. We'll be in touch.”
Tia left the room and wound her way up the stairs and outside.
The morning sun was bright and Tiadaria had to blink a few times before her eyes adjusted to the change. She'd come out the back door of the inn and was standing in the small courtyard that lay between the main building and the stable. Wynn was leaning over the edge of one of the stalls and she approached him slowly. His arms dangled into the stall and he was idly scratching a dappled grey mare behind her ears. The stable smelled of hay and beast. It wasn't exactly pleasant, but it was soothing in its own way.
Tiadaria didn't say anything. She just leaned over the rail beside them. She could feel his tension. He was practically vibrating with it. She just hoped that he'd let it out before it boiled over or before he had to explode. Tia knew that they hadn't been on the best terms since that day on the hillock, but it pained her to see him in so much distress. She wanted to know what he was thinking.
“I understand now,” he said, as if he'd heard her thoughts. “I know why you couldn't say yes.”
Wynn's voice was more bitter than she'd ever heard it, and her heart ached. Tia had always been the one in more demand, due to her natural talents and skills. There was always conflict in the world and precious few people who would stand up to anything beyond their own self-interests. So naturally, when called by King or country, she'd wanted to lend her aid. Wynn was one of many quintessentialists who had dedicated their entire lives to research. Although she knew he was special, he didn't have a reputation that put him in demand.
“I'm sorry,” Tia said, putting her hand on his shoulder. He didn't pull away. That made her feel slightly better.
“You don't need to be sorry. I guess, well, I guess I just wanted things to be different. When we met, I had this idea that it would be Tia and Wynn on whirlwind adventures, saving the land from ne’er-do-wells. It's more like Tia goes out to save the land and Wynn stays home and bakes, or does some darning, or maybe teaches a youngster how to read.”
“I thought that's what you wanted,” she said gently.
“I did too.” He closed his mouth, opened it, then closed it again, silently staring into the stall where the mare way laying. “I think maybe I was wrong, but I hate the idea of you out there facing these things alone.”
“I have to be alone, Wynn. I have unique abilities and that makes me alone. The Captain taught me what it meant to stand up for the things I believe in, and I have to use my abilities to see that through. He knew what kind of a commitment needed to be made. He was alone all his life. I'm very lucky to have you in mine, but there are some places that I have to go that you can't follow.”
“That's just it, Tia,” he said, turning to face her. “I don't want to follow. I want to be standing beside you. That's what that ring I offered you meant. I want us to stand together.”
Tiadaria sighed. She didn't want to fight with Wynn again. Things had just started feeling almost normal between them. If they had another argument now, there was no telling how it would end. She didn't want to lose him, but at the same time, how was she supposed to make him understand that this was something she had to do alone? The Captain had told her it would be a solitary life and she'd accepted that. She just didn't know how to make Wynn see that he was asking more than she could offer. Maybe they could come to some sort of compromise.
“Well,” she said slowly. “When all of this is done, maybe we can take some time to figure out how to make that happen. For now, though, this is the way things have to be. I'm sorry. I really am. We both have things to do and I can't do mine if I'm worried that you hate me.”
The last part came out in a rush, but it was true. Tia knew she was asking a lot of Wynn, but the thought of losing him altogether was enough to break her heart. She didn't want that. Wynn's eye widened a little.
“I don't hate you, silly girl. I love you. That's what all this has been about. Me loving you.” He spread his arms and she went to him, rubbing her face against his chest.
“I know,” she said, slightly muffled by his body. “There are just some things that I have to do alone, Wynn. It's my duty.”
“Alright,” he finally acquiesced. “But we'll talk about things after this?”
“Yes. I promise.”
“Alright.”
Wynn smiled at her. The first genuine smile he'd given her in days, and it felt as if a dreary, overcast day had been split by beautiful summer. Maybe things weren't going so horribly wrong after all. Maybe they'd be able to figure out the mystery and still be able to enjoy a party, even if it wasn't a bridal party, with their friends before they headed back out to the frontier of the Imperium.
#
Tionne was sprawled on the common room floor. Faxon stood over her, his hand extended and his face a mask of sadistic pleasure. He was drawing the soul out of her, shredding it. The emptiness she felt daily was nothing compared to this. Everything was being drained from her, leaving her a withered, desiccated husk, just as she'd left Lemmy.
She could feel her mind going. It was hard to think, hard to breathe, hard to do anything except feel the incessant pull of his magic and her soul ripping itself apart in answer to those primordial forces. She tried to scream, but no sound came out. Just a low hiss. She collapsed to the floor, unable to move. She saw herself from above, as if she was floating above herself, then everything went black.
The young quintessentialist sat up, gasping for breath. It was quiet and dark and save for the pale flickering light of a lantern under the bedroom door, she might have thought she was still in the dream. She brushed sweat damp hair back from her forehead. There was a light knock on the door and she jumped. If Faxon were coming for her, it wasn't likely that he'd knock.
“Come in,” Tionne called, her voice low.
Nerillia entered, her eyes glowing like embers in the darkness. She closed the door and glided across the room, her grey skin ghostly in the dim light. She seated herself on the edge of Tionne's bed and searched the girl's face.
“Are you alright?”
Tionne struggled between two extremes. On one hand, she was happy that Nerillia had come to check on her. She always felt safer in the presence of the Lamiad. Nerillia was the only one who understood her, or cared what she thought. The Xarundi, Zarfensis, only seemed to be interested in the end result of their plans. Either he was working
out strategy, or he was questioning Nerillia about details. He rarely spoke to her directly and when he did, it was in a curt tone that didn't allow for conversation. On the other hand, she was worried that Nerillia might think she was too young to do what they had to do. Tionne knew she could accomplish her tasks if they gave her the chance.
“I'm fine,” Tionne said, embarrassed. It was just as well that Nerillia couldn't see her burning cheeks in the dark. “Just a nightmare.”
“Tell me about it?”
The last thing Tionne wanted was to make herself look foolish, but when Nerillia used that particular tone, Tionne found it incredibly hard not to obey.
“It was nothing, really. I just dreamed that Faxon was ripping out my soul.”
“Oh yes,” Nerillia agreed. “Someone ripping out your soul. Nothing to be scared about whatsoever. Happens every day.”
Tionne's embarrassment grew immeasurably at Nerillia's taunt and she ducked her head. The Lamiad reached out and, with a cool palm, turned Tionne's head to face her.
“Don't be embarrassed, Tionne. Our dreams are very important. They can contain warnings about things that might happen, portents of things to come. One who discounts their dreams has no right to complain when the nightmares become real.”
Tionne didn't answer. She turned her face into Nerillia's palm, inhaling deeply. There was something both sensual and soothing about the peculiar musk that was Nerillia's natural fragrance. The smell of freshly turned earth wasn't exactly pleasant, but it soothed Tionne in a way that nothing else did.
Nerillia allowed her to rest that way for a few minutes, then gently pushed her back down onto the bed. She pulled the light blanket up over Tionne and smoothed it down around her. Tionne had a vague recollection of her mother doing something similar, but it was so long ago that she couldn't really be sure. She knew that she liked the care Nerillia showed her, and that was all that mattered.
“You need to get some sleep, precious girl. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”
“Oh?” Tionne tried to sit up again, but when Nerillia pushed her back down, she settled for turning her head toward the Lamiad. “What happens today?”
“A technician is coming to repair the damage to Zarfensis's leg. Once that happens, we'll be more free to move around the city and we won't have to rely on the safe house quite so much.”
“I still don't understand why he is so important,” Tionne complained. “Aren't there thousands of Xarundi? Why does it have to be him?”
“There are only a couple hundred of Xarundi left. They were thinned out by the battle here in Dragonfell, then again by a brutal civil war that started after Stryne was released from his prison. Zarfensis, for all his gruff nature, is one of the only priests they have left.
And he's not just any priest, he's the High Priest and the Runekeeper for the Dyr. Do you know what that means?”
Tionne nodded.
“He protects one of the stones of the Ancients. The stone of death. We learned about the runes in the Academy.”
Nerillia smiled, her teeth glittering in the semi-dark.
“Then you know how important he is to our cause. He controls the power of the Ancient Dyr. It is that power that will allow us to fulfill our purpose and finally drive the humans from Dragonfell.”
Tionne had a sudden sense of misgiving. It wasn't the first time that Nerillia or Zarfensis had talked about driving the humans from the city and killing as many of them as possible. She knew she was different, but she was still human. Would she die by Nerillia's hand? Would Zarfensis descend on her and tear her limb from limb as he'd done to her parents and baby Raynold? She shuddered, and Nerillia leaned over her, putting a hand on each of her shoulders. The Lamiad gave her a little shake.
“Don't be ridiculous, Tionne. You're special. Even Zarfensis said so. Even Stryne, one of the oldest creatures on Solendrea, recognizes your power. Nothing will happen to you. I promise.”
“Can you hear everything I think?” Tionne asked, somewhat abashed.
“No.” Nerillia smiled at her. “Just the things you think that are particularly loud or unexpected. I hear most of your worries. Sometimes I hear what you think about me.”
The blood that had subsided from her cheeks suddenly raced back to renew the flush and Tionne turned her face away. She was all too aware of the thoughts Nerillia had heard and the discomfort was almost too much to bear.
“Shhhhh,” Nerillia whispered, caressing the side of Tionne's neck with one hand. “There's nothing to be embarrassed about. I like you too. We have time. Maybe when you're a little older--”
“I'm old enough,” Tionne said, her voice sharper than she'd intended.
“Yes, you are. However, we have a mission to complete. Our duty has to come before all else. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Nerillia.”
“That's my good girl.” The Lamiad stood and stretched, her spine popping loudly in the quiet room. “Get some rest. You'll need it. I need some too. I'll see you in the morning.”
“Okay.”
Tionne thought her voice sounded very small and very far away, but Nerillia didn't seem to notice. She disappeared through the bedroom door and Tionne listened until her footsteps retreated to her own room.
Get some rest, she'd said. Tionne wasn't sure that was going to happen. It was probably only a few hours until dawn and she was still wound up over what Nerillia had said. More importantly, what she'd heard. Tionne would have to be more careful about shielding her thoughts from the Lamiad.
She wished she'd paid more attention to her classes at the School of Academics. She had a vague understanding of how such hidden thoughts were supposed to be managed, but the details eluded her. It was something she'd have to try and figure out through trial and error.
Even so, for as embarrassed as she felt, her thoughts kept turning back to the gentle touches Nerillia had given her. She'd said she liked Tionne too. What did that mean? Was it the same type of longing need that Tionne felt for her?
Tionne rolled over and these questions chased themselves around her thoughts under she finally fell into a fitful sleep. Morning, when it came, was entirely too early.
#
“Where is the damned technician?” Zarfensis snarled.
Nerillia looked up from the table where she sat with a mug of spiced wine between her hands. Tionne saw her shake her head at the Xarundi’s impatience. A trait which seemed to define Zarfensis more and more with each passing day.
“He will be here, Your Holiness. Patience.”
“Do not counsel me to patience when you can easily move about of your own accord,” the massive lupine creature snapped. “I will be patient when I am whole again. Not before.”
Tionne remained quiet. She'd seen Nerillia and Zarfensis get into an argument before and it wasn't something she wanted to witness again so soon. Or ever. They were both fearsome fighters in their way. Even though the clash hadn't come to blows, it was easy for Tionne to see how dangerous they were. It was one of the only times that she'd had serious second thoughts about abandoning her training with the Order and forsaking Faxon as her Master.
As if summoned by the conflict, there was a scratching at the door. Nerillia leapt to her feet and pressed her eye to the peep hole. Then she knelt down and peered through a lower peephole. She nodded to herself and unlatched the heavy locks.
“He's here.”
Nerillia opened the door and Greneks, the gnome technician, waddled into the common room of the safe house. Greneks was no more than about two feet tall, with coal black skin and enormous black eyes and seemed to drink in any light they encountered. A wide semicircle of a mouth surrounded the lower half of his face and large flaps of skin, like a bat's wings, sprouted from the sides of his head. These ears swiveled to and fro, catching whatever sounds happened to be nearby. He had long fingers tapered to small points.
He was dressed in simple breeches and a waistcoat, with a pack slung over one shoulder and a pipe sticking out
from between his wide lips. This he puffed constantly, a haze of noxious smelling smoke belching from the tiny creature.
There were very few things that brought Tionne any real joy. Joy that would temporarily replace the aching emptiness within her. Gazing down at Greneks, she knew that gnomes were one of those things. Nerillia had told her that they were poisonous and could be incredibly dangerous when threatened, but Tionne didn't care. She was delighted with the tiny man and his miniature implements. As soon as Greneks entered the building, she slipped off the bench she'd been seated on and sat, cross-legged, on the floor.
Greneks promptly ignored both Nerillia and Zarfensis and came to stand in front of the girl. He bowed deeply from the waist, nearly toppling his pointed blue hat from where it was precariously perched behind his ears.
“Greneks, I am, little miss,” he said, thumping his chest with one hand. “Is pleased to meet you, yes! What call you, do they?”
Tionne glanced at Nerillia, who gave her a little smile and a nod. Zarfensis stood behind her. It was obvious that he was agitated, but he hadn't said a word since Nerillia had closed the door.
“I am Tionne, Greneks. I'm pleased to meet you too.”
The gnome nodded vigorously, his oversized head bobbing back and forth. He smiled and took one of her fingers in his tiny hand, pumping it up and down.
“Tionne is powerful mage, yes? Power of the Ancients, one with. Is good.”
“Yes, she's a powerful mage. Now to the reason why you're here,” Zarfensis snarled.
Greneks turned to the Xarundi and made a strange screeching sound. Tionne found herself startled when the little creature threw back his head and snapped his jaw open, revealing two rows of sharp, shark like teeth. Zarfensis raised both hands in supplication and the gnome quickly returned to his docile form.
“Xarundi,” Greneks sniffed. “Is always work, work, work. Is no time to make nice with the pretties.”
Tionne laughed and the little man grinned at her. He tapped out the contents of his pipe on the floor and ground the orange embers out with the heel of his tiny boot. Then he turned to Zarfensis.
The Swordmage Trilogy: Volume 03 - The Pegasus's Lament Page 10