Lily laughed. “No. I don’t need to know how, so long as you can do it again.” At the word “Again,” Lily pushed once more. Ember rocked back as Lily had, but then leaned forward, pushing that wave of power back at Lily, then with a surge, she sent the girl tumbling. Lily came up against the wall and stared at Ember with surprise before scrambling to her feet. “Excellent!” she said. “Now, let’s move on to something else.”
The girl pushed her to try her talent in as many ways as possible, and though Ember was exhausted and sore by the time their lessons were over, she had to admit, Lily was a good teacher. More than good—she was a natural, and seemed to know exactly what to do and say to get Ember to react. As they opened the door to leave, Ember almost jumped when the guards stepped to her again, crowding in on her space in a way that made her uncomfortable. She waved to Lily and headed quickly toward the healer hall, the guards practically jogging to keep up.
“What’s the hurry?” Rahdnee asked as she leaped into yet another portal, not even pausing to catch her breath.
When she exited, she threw her words over her shoulder. “I haven’t seen DeMunth all day and I’m excited to see him.”
“You must really like him to be going this fast,” Brendae said. Ember didn’t answer, and within a few seconds more, she was at the healer hall. She stopped, took a deep breath, straightened her robes, and stepped through the doorway. The guards stayed outside, thankfully. After talking with Lily and spending even a short amount of time with the two of them, Ember had already decided to ask Ezeker to assign someone else to her. They made her feel like she was walking through a haunted forest. It wasn’t anything they did or said, specifically. It was more just a sense of their intention, or their energy that made her so uncomfortable. She didn’t like it, did not want to spend her days dealing with it non-stop. At least they had the decency to give her some privacy. She took full advantage of it as she pulled up a stool and sat down next to DeMunth’s bed.
It was obvious he was no longer in a coma, but sleeping the deepest of sleeps. She tried not to let it bother her as she took his hand in her own and told him about her day, from the early awakening to being assigned new guardians, to the change in Lily and her new lessons. “I wish you would wake up, DeMunth. I need you. These guards they assigned me are just creepy and I don’t trust them. Not the way I trust you.”
She paused for a moment and fought tears as she stared at his handsome face. His hand gently squeezed hers. She jumped, her heart starting to race. Was he waking up? He licked his lips and without opening his eyes, he said, “I’m coming, Ember. Wait for me. I’m coming.” His voice was just a whisper of sound with a slight metallic tone to it, probably because of the vibration of sound bouncing off his silver tongue, but her heart fluttered to hear him speak. His breathing immediately deepened and he was back asleep, but despite the frustration of losing him to dreams once again, she was thrilled to see him healing. It wouldn’t be long now and he could replace Rahdnee and Brendae. She’d have her true guardian back, and she couldn’t be happier.
She stood and kissed his forehead, then sat back on the stool and watched him for several minutes. When it became obvious he wasn’t going to awaken again anytime soon, she sighed and stood. Her stomach was rumbling, and though she had no idea what time it was, her body was telling her it was time to eat. She gathered her courage and stepped into the hallway, ready to face her strange escorts.
She was thrilled to discover that they were gone, replaced by her step-brother, Aldarin. He grinned and put an arm around her shoulders. “I thought you could use some good company for dinner. You up for it?”
“Most definitely,” she said as he escorted her down the hall and toward the delicious smells wafting from the dining hall.
Chapter Fourteen
The moment Kayla found herself in the domed cave, water lapping against the stony shore, she knew she was dreaming again. She’d been here once before, just before her battle with C’Tan, and had longed to return and see her father again. These dreams, it appeared, were truth dreams, as real as if she were awake. Last time, her evahn father had met her here, but this time she found herself completely alone.
The water surrounded her, but rather than creating a chill, it was like a blanket welcoming her back to the sea. She scrambled up the slope and sat on a stone to wait. She knew he would come eventually, or he wouldn’t have called her here. Her heart fluttered in excitement. It had only been a few days since she’d seen him last and she hadn’t expected another visit for quite some time. And yet, here she was.
“Hello, Kayla.” His melodic voice came from the darkness near the top of the slope.
She quickly stood and faced him, her hands fiddling with the ends of her sash. “Hello, Father.” And now she saw him as he came down the hill in long strides, sure-footed on the slick stone. In a moment he was there and wrapped her in his arms, giving her the welcome she had longed for the first time she’d dreamed of him. She held back the tears his familiar smell brought and relished the moment. He had always smelled of the woods and fresh earth after a rain. And of course, something male and musky.
He pushed her to arms’ length, a relaxed smile stretching his face. “How have you been?” he asked, sitting on the slope and pulling a knee to his chest, hands clasped around his shin.
“Moderately well,” she answered, puzzled by his casual nature. “Is there something wrong? Do you have a message for me?”
“Not really,” he said. “I just thought we could get to know each other a bit. It has been ten years.” He fidgeted, seeming a touch insecure. “Is that all right with you?” His smile seemed forced, as if he was unsure how to behave around her.
Kayla smiled. “I am perfectly fine with that. What would you like to talk about?”
He stared at her, his face blank, and then he began to laugh. “I have absolutely no idea.”
She liked his laugh, full-throated and sincere. She wished she could laugh more often as he did. “How is grandfather?” she asked, the first question to come to mind.
Felandian quickly sobered. “He is still unwell. I worry for him. I wish you could know him as I do. He is truly a great man.” He rubbed his eyes. Kayla was unsure if it was from tiredness or tears. “But enough of that. I want to know of you. What happened when you battled C’Tan? I was unable to see. Obviously you were successful, but I want to know the details.”
And so Kayla told him, from the moment he had first alerted her to C’Tan’s presence to her battle with the disciple of S’Kotos. She told him of the wall of ice she built across the waterway that would not melt even with balls of flame, and she told him of C’Tan’s insanity and the horrific scarring that lay beneath her illusory beauty.
Felandian nodded, grinning wide as she finished. “My daughter. Bearer of the Sapphire Flute and defeater of C’Tan!” He laughed out loud once more. “It sounds as if you are truly master of the flute.”
“Am I?” she asked. “It’s strange that you would say that. I was thinking about it just before I slept. Isn’t the Wolfchild the master of the flute? I think I’m just a temporary guardian, but if so, why does the flute treat me like its master? I’m so confused,” she said, twisting the sash around her hand.
He unwrapped the sash and took her hands in his own. “Daughter, I know not. Only the wolfchild can give you that answer, but for now, you are the guardian. Treat yourself as such.”
Kayla’s heart calmed at the truth of his words, though part of her was still frustrated with not knowing. She really needed to find the Wolfchild and talk to her about the future of the Sapphire Flute.
Felandian chuckled. Kayla looked at him, but he gazed over her shoulder. “It looks as if you have more of your mother in you than I’d realized. Two suitors? Is one not enough for you?” She rolled her eyes. “Well, it’s not as if I chose it. I was perfectly content with Brant, and then Niefusu came along. I will admit, he is very alluring. It is hard to say no to the son of a king. Not because of his p
ower,” she was quick to reassure, “But because he has everything I never had. And, well, I like him,” she admitted, reddening at the words.
Her father put his hands on her shoulders and met her eyes. “Follow your heart, no matter where it may lead. Only your heart will speak the truth, and many times, it is not the easiest choice.” His gaze drifted far away. “I see a difficult path for your heart, Kayla. One more challenging than even I have faced, but in the end, you will have peace and love. Never give up on love,” he said, then pulled away.
“I think you might want to return to camp soon. Trouble is brewing between your men, and I’d hate for them to kill each other while you slept.” He stood and met her gaze. “I love you, daughter. Never forget that. I shall see you again. Now wake up!” he demanded, and as he said the words, immediately she was back in her body, angry voices bringing her to consciousness much faster than she would have desired, especially with the brightness of the sun blazing into her eyes. She turned over and groaned, then inhaled the most beautiful scent she had ever smelled. For a moment she forgot all about the arguing men and buried her face in the aroma. Floral, but not a flower she could identify. As she lay on her side, the sun was no longer directly in her face, and she cracked her eyes open to discover what created such an intoxicating smell.
When she could focus, she gasped. Somehow during the night, someone had woven flowers into her hair. Roses and petunias, pansies and snapdragons, dandelions and small white flowers she didn’t recognized. There were tiny purple flowers and even sprigs of green berries. She thought those might have been her favorite. She wrapped her hands in her hair and lifted it to her face. The smell was breathtaking. She wished she could distill it and put it in a bottle, it was so divine. She tried to sit up, but the weight in her hair made it difficult, and it wasn’t until she was fully sitting, her thick braid in her lap, that she realized what the arguing was all about.
She was sure the flower culprit was Niefusu. It was the kind of thing he would do. He had often taken liberties with her body and personal space. He had given her air under the sea by kissing her without warning, then given her gills by kissing and then biting her neck. If he would be so forward as to do those things, weaving flowers into her hair as she slept next to her fiancé would be nothing to him.
But to Brant, it would be an affront upon his claim to her, and a personal insult. He would not look at it the way she did, with joy and to take pleasure in the beautiful flowers. She loved Brant, but he didn’t understand the simple things that made a woman happy. He understood other things, like his gift of the charm bracelet and what it meant to her, but something as simple as weaving flowers into her hair would never occur to him.
The sound of four swords being drawn from their sheaths got Kayla up faster than she thought possible. She lurched to her feet and ran barefoot across the clearing to the men. T’Kato and Brant paired off against Niefusu and Jihong, but only Brant and Niefusu seemed serious about it. “She is mine!” Brant spat. “You have no claim upon her and no right to touch her without permission—permission which you shall never receive, so long as she is with me.”
Niefusu’s eyes narrowed. “I marked me claim upon her when I toothed her,” he said. “I have as much right to her as ye do, so don’t be telling me I need yer permission. That would not be for ye to decide, but for Kayla to choose.”
Brant actually growled and lunged at Sarali’s brother, but T’Kato held him back. Kayla arrived just in time. She thrust herself between them and faced Brant first. “You and I will talk later,” she said, glaring at him, then spun upon Niefusu and tried to calm her pounding heart. “And you, sir, do need permission to touch my form, especially in my sleep.”
His eyes narrowed further, and he seemed about to respond when she put up a finger to silence him.
“It’s not that I don’t appreciate the gift,” she said, fingering the flowers. “It was a beautiful way to wake up, and the smell is delightful. You should open a perfumery.” Brant started to object, but T’Kato somehow silenced him, so she continued. “Sincerely, Niefusu, I appreciate your gift and your kindness.” She could see him begin to relax as his eyes opened more fully and his hunched, tense shoulders pulled back. When she saw it was safe, she took a chance and stepped to him, taking him by the hand. “Niefusu, thank you, but please remember, I am not yours, nor will I ever be,” she said, then gripped his hand when she saw he was about to pull away in anger once more. “My heart is with Brant. My commitment is with Brant. I am promised to Brant. Can you not understand the importance of keeping a promise, of following through with commitments? You are a prince of the sea kingdom. Can you truly not understand the importance of sometimes giving up that which you want because it is the right thing to do?” By the time she was finished, she had both his hands in her own and she looked up into his reddened face. He met her eyes, and she could see the shame there and knew that at last he understood.
“I would have ye for me own,” he said softly, “But I hear ye, Duchess Kayla. I hear ye.” With those words, he sheathed his sword. She was beyond relieved. Not only did it mean he wasn’t going to fight Brant, but holding his hand while it gripped a sword was a heavy and uncomfortable weight.
Once he had sheathed his sword, everyone else followed suit. There wasn’t exactly peace between them, but there seemed to be at least a truce. Before Brant turned to go back to their bedrolls, Niefusu reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. Brant stiffened and turned, obviously ready to defend himself, but instead, he found Niefusu’s outstretched hand.
“I owe ye an apology, Duke Brant. I should have acted more like the prince I be. Would ye forgive me?” he asked. Kayla was impressed. She knew how difficult it was to back down and then apologize.
She was doubly impressed when Brant’s face split with a cautious smile and he took Niefusu’s hand firmly and shook it, placing his other hand on the prince’s shoulder. “But of course,” he answered. “And I hope you will forgive me for my harsh words and for pulling my sword on you.”
“Tis already forgotten.” Niefusu slapped Brant on the shoulder and put an arm around him as they walked away together. “After all, ye are only human.” They both laughed at the intended insult.
Kayla shook her head. She would never understand men.
As she stood in the grass wet from the morning dew, still enthralled by the flowers braided through her hair, a boxcar came up the road and turned the corner. When it reached the clearing, it stopped, and a tall, slender man jumped down from the driver’s seat and walked toward them. His dark hair was just beginning to gray at the temples, and he walked like a man with confidence and purpose. Without any kind of fear, he approached T’Kato and gave him a funny little bow, then began speaking quietly to him. Kayla couldn’t hear what was said, but instead watched another man, this one prematurely gray but very handsome, also step down from the boxcar, leaving only a sulky teenage boy behind.
The older man then went to one of the horses, which was obviously pained and struggling. He ran his hand down the horse’s neck and back, muttering something under his breath, then felt the shaking legs. The tall, thin man walked over to him, and Kayla heard him say, “It’s all right. We can unhitch here and have no problems from them. They’ll be on their way shortly.” The older man nodded without saying a word, and together they took the faltering horse and led it to the sweet grass and small stream that ran on the other side of the clearing.
Curious, Kayla walked toward T’Kato to find out what was going on. She heard a squeal behind her and then a thump, and the clearing turned to chaos. Kayla turned around and watched in surprise as the older man leaned over the horse that now lay on its side, struggling to get up as it shook and shuddered. Jihong, surprisingly, was at his side, and the two of them held the animal down.
T’Kato took in the scene, then came to her side. “Do you think you can do anything with the flute?”
Kayla nodded, then ran to her bedroll and the bag she’d left there,
pulling the flute out and, still barefoot, raced over to the shuddering horse.
Without even thinking, she handed the flute to the nearest person, which just happened to be Jihong while she knelt down next to the animal and laid her hand upon its shoulder. “Miss,” the older man said, “Be careful. She’s been mighty sick for a while now. I’d hate for her to hurt you in her madness.”
T’Kato approached. “She knows what she is doing,” he said in his deep voice. “Trust her. She will heal the animal.”
Beneath her hand, she felt the horse still. Its chest no longer rose and fell. Its heart stopped beating. The energy that gave it life faded, and all that was left behind was a husk of what it . . . Kayla changed her thoughts . . . she had once been. She began to shake her head, unable to help the tears that coursed down her cheeks. She glanced at T’Kato, then at the older man, who seemed to love this mare so much. “Sir,” she started, then stopped with a choke. She tried again. “That flute is a gift from the Guardians. With it, I can heal the sick and mend broken bones. But sir, I can’t fix dead.”
The older man crumbled into himself, his tears falling freely. Behind her, Jihong started to snicker. “Can’t fix dead,” she heard him mutter. Niefusu elbowed his brother. “Be quiet, fool. Now wouldn’t be the time.” Angered by Jihong’s laughter, she stood and took the flute from him rather sharply. “What? I can’t fix dead. Can you?”
His laughter grew worse. What in the world was so funny about being unable to bring the dead back to life?
T’Kato pulled the brothers aside and sent them off to forage in the surrounding woods. She knew he did it mostly so she could calm down and the older man could grieve. Then Kayla had an idea.
“Sir, I cannot bring your horse back to life, but I can give it a fitting burial. Is there something in particular you would like?” she asked, kneeling down once more to lay a hand on the shoulder of the quickly cooling beast.
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