Broken Stone (2 page)

But for now he’d clean up, and then go see his princess.

Terin admired the knife in her hands as she knelt beside her bed. While she couldn’t cease her trembling, the knife gleamed steady and willing in the moonlight coming in her tiny window. Soon she would call upon the blade, and it would deliver the answer to her prayers. There was a quiet beauty in it, which wasn’t something she’d expected. But, even being relatively unfamiliar with the finer points of weapon-smithing, Terin could see the exquisite craftsmanship in the balanced blade and the simple wooden handle a previous owner had polished to a deep shine.

When she’d managed to slip it away from her captors on the way to Warren’s Rest, she’d known in the end it would be far more likely that she chose to take her own life with it rather than one of theirs.

She’d have to kill all of them to make a difference, versus only having to kill herself. Jaryl’s death before her eyes, even as his hand had roughly gripped her arm, made it all too clear. She’d be quite happy if she never witnessed another death in all her days.

If she were to have more days.

She suspected it would not be long before they came for her. Surely Lord Oren’s disappearance would be discovered soon. Mairi had rapped on her door and whispered that it was done, so Terin at least knew their desperate plan had been successful. Lord Reeve would be furious as soon as her betrayal was discovered. The slight twinge of guilt she felt at betraying the man who’d ordered her abduction was yet one more confusing moment in many she’d had lately.

To be so drawn to one you hated so much was exquisite torture. And then to make it worse, he’d killed a man in her defense. If she didn’t act soon, she’d lose all will to do it and then he’d use her to bind the lines. It was no use hoping any longer that her brother would come for her. Now if he came he’d be too late, so she could only hope he’d stay away. She wondered if he’d see a vision of her death, or if perhaps he or her father already had. At least she wouldn’t live to be old enough to suffer through her family’s cursed visions. Though, she’d never expected to die at seventeen. Then again, she hadn’t expected to die at her own hand either.

Quit stalling and get it over with.
She lifted the knife until it pointed at the plunging neckline of her gown. Her hands shook as she moved it slightly to the left. When she’d been but a child her brother had tried to teach her sword play. He’d always told her that to strike true it was best to visualize where the wolf graced their family crest and then push with all her might. It would seem his advice would be useful in a way he’d never intended.

She recalled the words of her father and repeated them out loud. “A ruler’s life is but a currency to be spent for their people. No matter the cost, the burden is ours to bear.”

Her shaking increased as she began to pull her hands inward and the tip of the knife bit into her flesh. Just then the rattling of keys outside her door met her ears. In her focus she hadn’t heard anyone approach. She must act fast.

She froze. No matter how much she tried to will her hands to obey her wish, they would not move.

The door swung inward and she heard his curse.

“Bloody hell—Terin!”

Then he was crashing into her. The knife clattered against the stone floor as he knocked it away from her and pulled her to him at the same time. From the way he clutched at her hands she thought he was trying to pull them both to their feet, but then he sank down onto the ground beside her, keeping her held close in a protective, iron-like grip. She tilted her chin upward to look at him and thought she saw a tear glistening just inside his blue eyes.

“Reeve...” she sobbed, not quite sure what to say. Emotion overcame her and she allowed the tears to flow. And then he crushed his lips to hers, uninvited, unbidden, but not unwanted, and she was overcome with an entirely different emotion. By The Three, she wanted this man as much as she hated him. The comfort of having him simply be near her was instantaneous, but the fire he lit with his lips was all-consuming.

She pulled away, turning her head to the side to avoid his eyes.

“Why are you trying to end your life?” Emotion thickened his voice.

“Because I’m afraid of what you may use me to do. I’m afraid of what you and your companions may do to me...” she broke off, not wanting to tell him she’d betrayed him.

“You do not trust me to keep you safe after I just killed a man for touching you?”

She opened her mouth but no words came. He had a point, as much as she was loathe to admit it. “I was frightened that I might be blamed,” she finally managed to say, turning back toward him.

Hopefully, he would think she referred to Jaryl’s death, not Oren’s escape.

Reeve closed his eyes and his shoulders eased. When he opened them again, his expression was harder. “As you should be. It is important you understand that I want to keep you safe, and I fully intend to. But I am your only ally here in Eltar, and your safety is not the priority of all involved.”

Looking at Reeve’s handsome features—so harsh, and yet so tender—Terin couldn’t help being overcome with gratitude. She wasn’t sure she could even fathom what the cost might be to him for what he had done. “Thank you...for protecting me,” she said. Tentatively she leaned toward him, offering him the chance to finish the kiss she’d interrupted.

He leaned toward her slowly, his eyes locked on hers as if making sure he was interpreting her intentions correctly. Her lips parted expectantly and she closed her eyes. His hand trailed softly along her jaw and his breath, warm and sweet, begin to caress her lips.

She braced herself for the feel of him, but instead the door crashed inward and her eyes flashed open in surprise.

The guard who’d accompanied her from Thalmas—Alrec, she had heard Reeve call him—stood angrily in the doorway. “Your father’s gone.” The guard’s blue eyes glared at her accusingly and Reeve’s shoulders tensed as he stood. Reeve looked down at her, his eyes searching her face.

Terin tried to shove the guilt creeping up her spine away, praying it didn’t show on her face. She’d done what she had to, what was right! She wouldn’t let the dark clouds storming across Reeve’s blue eyes make her regret it. She wouldn’t!

Reeve let out a ragged breath, looking down at her on the floor. The sadness in his voice cut into her as he said, “What have you done?”

Emariya Warren Ahlen allowed the tears to flow unhindered as she stepped out of her father’s tent.

Rees and Torian were waiting for her outside. She confirmed Torian’s questioning look with a little nod. He was gone. Her father was really gone.

It had taken years of hoping, a treacherous journey through two lands, and facing more heartbreak and betrayal than she thought she could ever bear, but she’d found her father just in time to say goodbye.

Rees averted his eyes while Torian took her in his arms.

She immediately felt a bit safer.

Emariya couldn’t be sure if the saltiness on her cheek stemmed from her own tears, or the sea air that wafted across Thandrel’s Fjord.

Forcing her sobs aside, she squared her jaw and turned to her uncle. “So, about that treaty?”

“We’ll figure something out,” Rees said, his voice thick. “See to your mourning. Our plans can wait.”

Emariya sagged against her husband’s chest, the desire to appear strong leaving her. Her uncle was gifting her the time to be a grieving daughter. Soon enough she would be the leader of a nation, determining whether it was possible to avoid the war that had loomed between Sheas and Eltar for longer than either could remember. But right now, that could wait.

“I wish I could take your pain away,” Torian whispered into her hair.

Emariya took a deep breath. “I think that’s beyond your power, Stone or not. I just want him to have a proper farewell. He deserves that much.”

Her false sense of solitude left as Garith put his hand on her shoulder.

“It will be good for the men gathered,” Garith said, his own grief making his voice raspy. “And perhaps for you, too.”

“Not a pyre though.” Emariya raised her eyes to meet Torian’s. She may have taken her husband’s name, and his people for her own, but her father would always be a Warren. “I want him to have a traditional Eltar burial.”

Skepticism deepened Torian’s brow. “I think the ground may be too frozen, but we’ll try if that’s what you want.”

Rees’ normally hard expression softened with compassion and reverence. “We could cast him to the sea. It’s what we do for our heroes and our honored in Sheas.”

Emariya shook her head. “He is a Warren and we are of the earth. He will go home to it.” She paused a moment, then added, “I’ll help warm the ground. I think I can soften it. Especially if Grandmother Irina assists.”

Torian took a step back and looked her in the eye. “It’s too dangerous. You’re still too weak.” His voice hissed with worry.

The emotion of losing her father after just getting him back spilled over and her temper flared. “I am
not weak.
”

Garith took a step back, shaking his head as his shoulders heaved with barely-contained laughter.

“You’ve done it now.”

Torian’s face twisted into a wry, amused smile. “That isn’t what I meant. I simply meant that stabilizing the ice to open the fjord for crossing took a lot out of you. I’m afraid you haven’t yet had time to recover your strength.”

As fast as it had come, Emariya’s anger subsided. She suspected he was still imagining her collapsing after the last man had crossed. Placing her hand gently on his arm, she managed a small smile.

He turned to Garith. “Can you see to whatever needs to be done?”

With a respectful nod, Garith strode off toward the sprawling campsite. For the first time in known history, men from all three of the Corners were combined into one camp. The Royal Army of Thalmas, Rees Hendel’s brigade from Sheas, and the farmers-turned-soldiers from Eltar that Reeve sent to oppose them. Out of allegiance to Emariya, all three had come together in an uneasy, but hopefully not temporary, peace.

Torian beckoned to someone behind her, and Emariya turned to see Jessa approach.

“Why don’t you go with Jessa, and I’ll come get you if we need you,” Torian said.

Emariya shook her head. “After we soften the ground.”

Her uncle shook his head. “You’re fighting a losing battle, son. Stubbornness runs in her veins.”

Emariya glanced at the cliffs just beyond the campsite. Not long ago she’d stood on that cliff and bound herself to Torian forever. Had it really been only a few days? Starting toward the sea she called over her shoulder, “You can come with me, if you like.” If she and Torian were to be together for the rest of their days, he’d best grow accustomed to her doing as she pleased. She allowed herself a tiny smile as his footsteps crunched across the snow behind her.

There wasn’t much snow this close to the sea. The heavy winds that often wailed across the fjord had blown most of it inland. Just enough lay underfoot to dust the world in white. Stopping several feet away from the edge of the cliff, Emariya closed her eyes.

Visualizing the mental walls around her, she formed the wooden door and then she imagined the window at the top of the door. She breathed out slowly, and then imagined the window opening.

Grandmother Irina?
she mentally called.

Her grandmother’s reply was almost instantaneous, though weak.
I’m here, child. I’ll help you
prepare my son’s final rest.

A tiny sob welled in her throat and Emariya tried to fight it back.

Torian’s alarmed voice reached her ears, breaking through her focus.

Emariya opened her eyes and sighed. “Torian, I’m fine. You have got to stop worrying so much and trust me.” She turned to face him, weariness seeping over her. “Our journey is far from over, and I’ve no cause to expect it to get easier. If we’re to face the trials that come, there must be trust between us.”

Shock flashed across his face and for a moment Emariya thought she’d wounded him, or at least his pride. He set his jaw and nodded. “You’re right. Of course.”

She took Torian’s hand in hers, careful to use their non-injured ones. She could have hastened the healing from their wedding bind, but it felt wrong to consider it. A scar would form on her palm soon enough, a permanent sign of their eternal bond and the symbol of their joining. He flowed through her now as she flowed through him. If she stilled her thoughts, Emariya could feel additional power coursing through her.

Using Torian’s grip to center herself, Emariya reached out with her mind until she felt her grandmother’s reassuring presence.

Visualizing a softening and warming of the ground, Emariya held up her other hand. Slowly she tightened it into a drawn fist, ignoring the soreness, and then spread her fingers wide. Over and over she repeated the motion, as if clenching the earth tightly, and then spreading it. The thin snow covering the cliff melted before her eyes, the resulting water seeping into the rocky ground.

Beside her, Torian gasped as the rocks began to crumble.

Emariya had to suppress her own gasp. It felt as if her own bones were crumbling along with the rocks.

Irina’s voice drifted through her mind.
Don’t stop now. It’s your empathy to the earth that you’re
feeling. It will fade when we are done.

Her determination renewed, Emariya picked up the pace of her motions and was rewarded by the splendor of fresh grass birthing its way between the cracks of the dainty rocks left intact.

Dropping her hand, she leaned against Torian’s shoulder. “It is done.”

“Are you all right?” he asked.

She nodded. “Just tired.”

“You can rest while they finish preparing the site.”

Too tired to resist even if she’d wanted to, Emariya let him lead her away from the cliff to their tent. “I’m going to go confer with Garith and Commander Plank. I’ll come get you when we are ready.” He kissed her gently on the forehead and then left her to Jessa’s care. Even if her eyes had been closed, she would have known the moment he was gone.