Our kiss ended. The warm satisfaction in her gaze gave way to something deeper and poignant. Something familiar.
Or did I just want it to be?
I stared into her pleasure-laden eyes, trying to shed the notion.
I couldn’t. I had to say it. “Sienn?”
Karis didn’t reply. She offered no reaction whatsoever. And that was proof enough.
Sliding out of her, I sat back. “I don’t understand.” I shook my head, trying to. “You knew it was me.”
Sienn nodded, making Karis’ curls jump. “Yes.”
“And you let me? I raped you in prison, Sienn. Why would you let me…?”
She sat up; drawing her legs to her chest and resting her chin on her knees. “We are but players in a moment that’s been done for hundreds of years. How could I interfere?”
That was not what I’d wanted to hear. I turned away.
Sienn put a hand on my arm to stop me. “And…”
My pulse skipped as I waited. But she let the sentence hang too long.
Damn it. What the hell am I doing?
I pulled from her grip and scooted to the edge of the bed.
Amid the rustle of the sheets behind me, she whispered, “I wanted you to.”
“You wanted me to as Raan.”
“That is not what I said.”
“But it’s what you meant.”
“Yes.”
“Why?” I glanced back at her. “So you could fuck me and not have to look at me?”
“I needed to know if I could look at you. If I wanted to.” Sienn crawled closer. She brought Karis up to kneel beside me. Her hand caressed Raan’s face. Her fingers roamed gently with wistful eyes as Sienn drew the exact design of the magic-scars decorating my own face back in Kabri. “And I did. More than anything, Ian, I wanted to see you and not him.”
Whether it was the truth or a lie, Sienn’s words carried implications I couldn’t ponder right now. I needed air.
Leaving the bed, as my bare feet connected with the cool stone floor, I realized my mind had yet to register the rest of the room. As it did, and I took in the abundance of windows, the pristine white walls, and pale furnishings, my mood eased. The bright airiness gave no opportunity for shading or dark corners. The crisp, clean feel to the place was calming. The bed, a massive posted thing laden in white downy blankets and satin pillows (half of which were on the floor), was carved with incredible craftsmanship. Wooden wardrobes lined one wall, tables and a desk occupied another. A collection of plump couches the color of wheat were arranged in a half circle around a metal bathing cask. The ceiling above the right side of the room consisted only of windows. Streaming light beat down through the casements to illuminate dozens of easels below. Some of the works resting on the wooden lips were unfinished. Several were of Karis.
A light breeze blew across the room, stretching out the gauzy curtains. The draft hit me, pleasant and warm, and I realized I was standing naked in front of the open balcony doors.
Going back a few steps, I grabbed the sheet hanging off the bed. As I wrapped it around my waist I caught Sienn staring. Avoiding her eyes, I walked through the ribbons of sunlight striping the floor and out onto the balcony.
Despite the early hour, the city was awake. On the wide street directly below, a good number of merchant stalls were open and ready for a day of haggling. Eager peddlers were pushing carts, calling out their wares: flowers for the lady; fruit tarts for the young lad; slaves for the lord. The slave dealer carried none of his product, but handed out scrolls containing the details of an auction to be held later in the day.
Buildings flanked both sides of the street. Beyond them were more streets and more buildings. Their rows continued far past my view to where the outskirts of the city sat nestled inside the boundary of the western mountains. I caught glimpses of columns and balconies. Well-dressed men and women sat on their terraces drinking their morning tea. Those strolling below me were laughing and making idle chit-chat. Some complained about the recent bout of hot weather, others how the fountains had suddenly been overrun with frogs.
As with my last visit, I found the wealth of aromas pleasantly dizzying. Unlike then, I had the light of day to take in more detail. The sun was strong for such an hour, but I liked the dry warm air on my skin. I turned my face up into it and closed my eyes. In a nearby house, someone was singing. I listened, letting it all waft over me.
A light touch brushed my arm. I opened my eyes and Karis was beside me. Her hair was still a mop of rowdy curls, but Sienn had found her clothes. The delicate, flowing fabric of her pale green dress reminded me of the foamy sea. Open sleeves bared the skin of her shoulders and arms. Material extended up and off the sides of the bodice in strips to wrap around her neck and tie beneath her hair. The back of her dress draped temptingly low, exposing the entire length of the stunning decoration of stones on her spine.
Sienn met my stare. There were any number of things she might have said. Foremost was her impression of the city. But she led with, “I changed my mind.”
“So you did. I hope you enjoyed the landing.”
A touch of heat graced Karis’ cheeks. “How did you know I was here?”
“The way she was moving, the way she touched me. It made me think of you.”
“Karis and I are nothing alike.”
“I know.”
Sienn sighed. “What does this say about us, Ian? That the only way we can be together is if we are not?”
“It says we think too much.” I took her hand. “Or so a Kaelish winegirl once told me.”
She laughed; a blithe, whimsical sound that was a perfect fit for Karis’ personality. It faded to a sad smile that was far more like Sienn. “Never once has it been simple. Never has it been the right time or place for anything between us.”
Unsure what to say, I pulled her in. I kissed the top of her head and she laid it on my shoulder. Absently, I ran a hand over the stones on her back. Feeling her shiver, I stopped.
“Don’t,” she said. “I like it. I mean…her body likes it.” Sienn shook her head. “Maybe we both do.”
“You’re still adjusting. Just try to relax.”
“How can I?” Pulling away, Sienn turned to the railing. Her hands gripped the metal. They moved anxiously back and forth over the curve as she stared out; absorbing and relishing all that was before her. I didn’t interrupt. I enjoyed watching Sienn’s awe shine bright in Karis’ eyes. But it didn’t last. Her stare went wide and damp, and the wonderment was gone.
Sorrow had taken its place.
It shook her voice as she spoke. “The happiness Karis feels is incredible. Her mind is light. Her heart is full of love. She has never known pain or loss. Not once. Her memories are sweet and comforting.”
“If she’s that happy, then why are you so sad?”
“I envy her life, Ian. I envy it so badly it hurts.”
I put a hand on her face. My finger brushed away her emerging tears. “It’s all right.”
“No, it’s not. I’m jealous of a life that’s doomed to end in fire and pain. And the poor girl, this poor blissfully happy girl, has no idea what’s coming. None of them do. Tam’s time is nearly done. The empire will fall and all this will be gone. Karis will be gone. Her hopes. Her dreams. Her love. All these lives, all this splendor and promise…this freedom will be buried and lost like it never existed.”
Frustrated, I dropped my hand. “Maybe the reports are wrong. Five hundred years is a long time to keep the specifics straight. They could have years left.”
“There has never been a divergence of the facts. All the historians say the quake came a year into Tam’s reign. And you said the entries stop abruptly in his journal. At best, they have months. Perhaps, only weeks.”
“Even so, it’s already done. You’re grieving for people that died hundreds of years ago.�
�
“I know.” She reached out. Her finger trailed over Raan’s arm. It was strange seeing the limb attached to me with no magic-scars coloring the skin. “Do you think they died together?”
“Who’s to say they didn’t survive? Someone from both their family’s made it, or we wouldn’t be alive.”
“Not necessarily. The slave breeders in our time assign names based on bloodlines, but there was a time when our ancestors did the same. Brielle’atroy and Nam’arelle are likely common designations. Not to mention, Karis has ten brothers and sisters and Raan has eight. We share their blood yes, but we likely share it with many others.”
“To know her siblings you must be accessing her mind.”
“I had not planned to. But her memories are pleasant.”
“Don’t linger there, Sienn. If you get too swept up in her emotions you’ll lose the connection. You control Karis, not the other way around. Remember that.”
“The man who daydreams while I’m teaching, wants to instruct me on casting? The world truly is coming to an end.”
Her lips twitched in a surprising show of sarcasm. They drew me in. I moved to kiss her, and a man called out from the street below. “Hey, Brielle’atroy—put some clothes on! You’re scaring my horses!”
Breaking away from Sienn, I peered down at his wagon. The animals attached to it were indeed fighting the reins; tossing their heads, rearing up, and nipping at each other. Their behavior, precisely on cue with the man’s jest, prompted a bout of laughter from half the people on the street.
I smiled and waved before stepping back from the edge. “Why don’t you take a walk?” I told her. “Look around. Explore.”
“Where will I go?”
“It doesn’t matter. Just keep an eye on the streets and mind your way back. I saw some coins on the desk. Take them. Sample the food and drink. This is why you’re here. Don’t waste what little time we have.”
“Their wedding is tonight.”
“We’ll be gone long before that. As soon as I find what I’m looking for, I’ll cast a tracking spell and come find you.”
With one last glance out at the city, Sienn’s resistance faded and she left the balcony. I waited until I saw her on the street below. As Sienn joined the growing crowd, a plump man approached her with an armful of scarves. He made a show of winding one around her neck, laughing, and calling his wife over with a mirror. I wondered if Sienn realized the size of the smile on Karis’ face.
Wearing one of my own, I went inside.
The breeze had dried the sweat on Raan’s body, but the heat of the day was threatening to break another. I didn’t want to spend time in a bath. Yet, knowing I had to look the part, I settled for a half dozen splashes of water from the pitcher and a run of my hands over Raan’s short hair to slick it back into place.
His collection of clothes was extensive. Most were formal; colorful, loose-fitting trousers and ruffled shirts in silk and velvet, embroidered coats with gold buttons and decorative trim. I opted for the thinnest, plainest white shirt I could find. Its tiny buttons were made of moonstone and each one pulsed at my touch. I paired the shirt with a sleeveless waistcoat the color of wet granite. A tree was stitched into the fabric on one side. Its black trunk and leafless branches were formed by a series of interconnected runes. The roots continued down one leg of the matching trousers. His shoes were all impractical and flimsy with showy buckles. I chose the least offensive pair and slipped them on.
A mirror stood beside the empty bath. I found it unsettling to gaze out from my eyes and see another’s face, so I took only a quick glance to make sure Raan was reasonably put together. Closing the carved wooden trunk containing his shoes, I sat on the lid and went to work.
Accessing Raan’s thoughts wasn’t difficult. Looking for a specific memory among the countless moments of his life was a little harder. It required me to relinquish most of my control. If I backed off too far, I could slip out of the spell and end up back in my own body. Not enough, and our thoughts would twist around each other and get me nowhere.
Rousing the auras in the buttons on Raan’s shirt for extra help, the moonstone (known for its calming, soothing qualities) spilled in like cool water. The auras ran through his veins, stilling his nerves. I loosened the tethers, unwinding the mental rope that kept Raan’s mind subdued. It was a little like my feet lifting off the ground.
As my control of Raan’s body lessened, his legs became heavy and cumbersome. His head resisted turning. His arms didn’t want to oblige direction. We were both of us floating together, drifting and intertwining.
A little more…
I let out some slack. The balance tipped, and Raan recouped his physical control. He was too disoriented to use it, but I wasn’t taking any chances. I channeled more of the moonstone to keep him calm and give me time to search his mind. I didn’t need long to realize he’d lied.
Raan wasn’t in possession of the tablets. Neither did he know their location.
But he knew how to find it.
In his memory, I saw the box where the information was kept; a square, ceramic piece with an inscription on the lid. I saw the shelf it rested on in his late father’s study. It had been sitting in the same place, untouched, since the man died.
As I stared at the lid in Raan’s mind, the circular design around the runes became familiar. I’d seen it before. But not here, I thought, not in the past. I’d seen the box in the present, lying in the bottom of a crate, nestled between stacks of scrolls. It was one of the many relics Jillyan had unearthed in her excavation of the empire. My memory wasn’t a recent one, though. It was months old, from our time in the swamp when we were researching my scars. I had no idea if the box was still intact, or if it was destroyed when Draken raided our camp. But it was here now.
I pushed Raan’s consciousness to the background and reasserted myself. In control again, I let go of the moonstone and left the chamber. I’d collected other helpful tidbits while rummaging in Raan’s mind, including the layout of his house. It was large, but the design was simple, with the corridor outside his bedchamber leading me to an interior balcony. Raan’s room was on the top floor. Looking down over the rail, three more floors were below. Above, was a glass roof, giving way to a square of blue sky and outlined by a metal trellis. Vines meandered across to hang in the corners, their ends twisting and trailing over empty air.
I rounded the balcony to the narrow brass stairwell on the other side. The tricky spiral cut through the middle of the house. I took it all the way down.
The first floor was a stunning, if not odd design. Fashioned like a terrace, with only two solid walls, the others consisted of massive stone columns set deep into the slate floor. Alabaster and marble statues occupied the corners. Potted plants filled the air with citrus and spice. Metal benches ringed a trickling fountain. Tall tables held bowls brimming with uncut stones. Their auras produced a banquet of vibration and color; tanzanite, spinal, citrine, garnet, amethyst, sapphire and cobalt.
The study was off the back. No one was inside. Nor had they been for some time. Raan’s father had been dead for years. A good deal of dust had made itself at home and the tiny motes drifted about, playing in the single stream of dim light spilling in from a small canopied window.
On the fourth shelf of the second bookcase behind the seventh book from the left was a niche in the wall. Removing the book, I pulled the box out from inside the hole. The shielding spell around it tingled against my skin. My fingers sped over the slopes and curves of the runes etched into the ceramic top. The markings were old. Significantly older than the time I was in now. But between Jillyan’s scrolls and Tam’s journal, I’d learned a thing or two, and I had no trouble deciphering the markings.
“V’set su-naa laress. Rey-va kye n’alee.” Translating them took only a moment longer. “Heavy is the soul of the man who keeps the past.”
“Tha
t is you now.”
Startled, I looked up. Raan’s mother stood in the doorway. She had well over twenty years on me (the real me), but swathed in an elegant gown of pale blue and pearls, Lady Brielle’atroy had the kind of classic features that age only ripened.
Body yet firm, she sashayed in; waist cinched tight, white hair pulled up in a stylish twist to add length to her neck. Humor laced the experience and wisdom in her white eyes, making it hard to give notice to the fine lines time had drawn there. Sophistication with a touch of flamboyance played at the edges of her lips.
I was betting Raan’s mother had a thousand stories worth listening to. And all my father had done was sleep with her, seducing her with Tam’s body for information. I could tell in one glance the woman deserved far better. “Lady.” I lowered my eyes in deference. “I had no idea you were awake.”
She waved a dismissive hand. “You expect me to sleep in on my son’s wedding day?”
I smiled. “I woke early as well.”
“Yes, I saw Karis leaving. If the girl always ventures from your bed with such an air of distraction you will have a happy marriage, indeed.” Her eyes flitted to the box. “I thought to present it to you later, after the ceremony. But you do have your father’s lack of patience.”
“Are you mad I intruded?”
“Of course not. What was his is yours. And I am so proud of your accomplishments. First it was your assignment at the school, now you are about to take a wife… You are not a child anymore, Raan. You have come to understand the mantle of tradition and responsibility. Something your sisters certainly know nothing about. Still,” nostalgia slowed her words, “as the box passes to you, so must the truth… and the duty that comes with it. I fear both are far heavier than you are ready for.”
SEVENTEEN
A false sense of isolation clung to Raan’s backyard. The grass was dark and lush. An assortment of bushes and fruit-bearing trees rose high to block the street. Occasional glimpses of the hard lines of buildings showed through the mesh of vegetation. Sounds and smells filtered in. I imagined on a cool night when the birds were singing, both would be an exhilarating distraction. Two larger breaks disturbed the dense leafy barrier. An iron gate leading into the city, and opposite the gate: a worn, tree-lined footpath.
The Crown of Stones: Magic-Borne Page 15