Authors: Eileen Wilks
Tags: #Fiction, #Paranormal, #werewolves, #Science Fiction, #Love Stories, #Romance, #Fantasy, #General
Night Season (31 page)
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Their route back to the City was different from the one that had brought them to Leerahan, thank God. Cynna never wanted to see Ahk territory again, and maybe not mountains.
Horses, though, were inevitable. They rode to a small port on the river where the chancellor's barge awaited them. A combination of sidhe mindspeech and the Ekiba hotline had arranged that, as well as passing on the basic events to those waiting back in the City.
Gan was full of herself at times, but she still enjoyed swimming in the river and eating the fishies.
Cynna caught up on her sleep on the barge. She and Cullen did their best to catch up on… well, sex and lovemaking both, she supposed. The two of them were good at sex. Making love was new.
She liked it.
Ruben and McCloskey met them at the dock. Ms. Wright was conscious and out of danger, but still tired very quickly. The healer didn't want her leaving the Chancellery until it was time for her to leave Edge entirely.
Ruben was walking.
"Hey!" Cynna forgot herself and hugged him. "Look at you! This is wonderful. You look wonderful."
Ruben smiled. "You look wonderful, too, if somewhat overstimulated. Mr. Seabourne looks extremely… rested, also."
She blushed, dammit. He wouldn't see it, though.
"I'm very interested in hearing your report."
"It will have to be ears-only, sir. There's a lot that can't be put in writing."
"That's true of most of your reports, or so you like to insist."
Cynna did not like writing reports. "Cullen, look how great Ruben's doing."
"So I see." Cullen's smile came easily these days. "You're moving well, too. Not limping. No splints."
"The arm and leg are still a bit tender. I'm afraid I'm showing off. The chancellor's healer sped the healing of my bones and in the process discovered the cause of my progressive weakness." Ruben gave Cynna a gentle smile. "I hadn't wanted to worry you, but back home, my prognosis was not good. Now, with care, I should be fine. I have a rare allergy to certain metals, you see. Particularly iron and steel."
Cullen nodded. "It's that trace of sidhe blood, no doubt. Most of them aren't troubled by cold iron—that's a myth—but a few are allergic to it."
"Wait a minute," Cynna said. "Trace of sidhe blood? Ruben?"
"I saw it in his magic," Cullen said, "after in-blooding the elements, when my vision was heightened. Traces of violet and black. The violet's uncommon, but it was the blend of it with an iridescent black, like flecks of mica, that clinched it. The only place I've ever seen that is in sidhe magic."
"A metal allergy," Cynna said slowly. "That's going to be hard. Steel is everywhere."
Ruben nodded. "Even being around large amounts of steel may be debilitating for me, which will prove a challenge. But primarily I must avoid touching it. The healer is unfamiliar with aluminum, so she can't say whether that's included on my 'do not touch' list, but I suspect it is."
"Aluminum? Your chair. Ruben, your chair has aluminum and steel!"
"Yes." He looked embarrassed. "I had a strong feeling I should be at that meeting with the gnome, if you remember, when we expected him to give Mr. Seaboume the shield spell. It turns out that was my first precognition utterly about myself. I wasn't needed for the mission, but I did need very much to come here. Being forcibly separated from my wheelchair has probably saved my life."
It took the gnomes another two weeks to build the gate. It was a small one, only large enough for two to go through at a time. But it was permanent. They left at the start of the Dawning.
They were escorted to the new gate by three of the councilors, a troop of the guard, and Tash. She wasn't recovered from her wound yet, but she'd informed the healer she could mend just as well sitting in a carriage as lolling around in bed.
Gan accompanied them, tricked out for the occasion in a new dress. This one was silk in an eye-popping combination of reddish orange, cinnamon, and fuchsia. The chancellor's medallion hung from a shortened chain around her neck.
She waved a lot at the people they passed—some of whom were waving or pointing at her. "Sometimes it's fun, being important," she confided to Cynna. "Sometimes it's annoying. You'll remember about the chocolate? And to tell Lily Yu she can visit? And you and Steve Timms and Cullen Seabourne will come see me sometimes, too, right?"
"I'll remember," Cynna said, and kissed the top of her bald, orange head.
They went through the gate in pairs. Cynna and Cullen went last, at their request. The last thing Cynna saw of Edge was the sun rising over the river, making sky and water dance with color.
The first thing she noticed about being home was wet feet. The management of Fashion Center Mall had finally gotten around to fixing their fountain.
Turned out the gnomes were wrong about all the time slippage happening between the other realm and Earth. They'd left Earth at the very end of February, and their adventures in Edge had taken just under four weeks. When they returned, Cynna's breasts felt heavy and tender and she couldn't button her jeans anymore. And it was the middle of June.
"Missed the cherry blossoms," Cynna said, shaking her head.
"They were beautiful this year," Rule assured her.
The two of them sat at the big, round table in the kitchen at his house three days after the big return from Edge. Lily was working. Cynna had planned her visit to avoid Lily; told Rule that and that she needed to discuss clan business with him. That had surprised him.
He was drinking coffee. She had a tall glass of orange juice. It was a cloudless day, and while they exchanged the kind of nothing-talk friends do, she kept looking out the window at all the sunshine. She didn't think she'd ever take sunny days for granted again.
"I don't wish to rush you, but I do have an appointment in about an hour," Rule said at last.
"I'm having trouble jumping into this," she admitted.
"Is it about the Lady?"
"No! Well, not really. Not yet, anyway."
"The
ashwa
?"
Cullen had told him about
ashwa
and what it might mean for lupi—the possible increase in their fertility as the level of magic on Earth rose. She looked him in the eye and got it said. "Not really. I need to ask you about lupi who get married. What would Nokolai do if one of their members got married?"
Rule's eyebrows flew up. His voice turned gentle. "Cynna, Cullen isn't going to marry you. I don't know if he's hinted or implied such a thing, but I hope—"
"Actually, he's already asked, and now he's just assuming. He's like that—if you don't beat him back with a club, he figures that means he'll get what he wants. But before I make it official, I need to know for sure Nokolai wouldn't kick him out or anything." She made a face. "He wouldn't lie to me outright, but this might be a subject he's willing to bend the truth on."
The shock on Rule's face was everything she'd feared. So why did it make her giggle?
"Cullen?" he said at last, incredulous.
"It's a kick, isn't it? And it isn't just about the baby." She still marveled over that.
"No, it wouldn't be." He waved that aside as obvious. His face was very serious. "Cynna, you understand that this not up to me."
She nodded. "Your father, mostly, right? And the Rhej. I, uh, I've talked to her."
She'd surprised him again, but this time he smiled slightly. "You were able to persuade her to come to a phone?"
"Yeah. She said… well, she had a lot to say."
Rule's smile deepened. "You agreed to become her apprentice."
"Sort of. On a trial basis," Cynna added quickly. She still couldn't believe she was the right one for the job, and she figured the Rhej would see that soon enough. But… "Everyone keeps telling me it's not a religious vow or anything, but… well, according to the Rhej, the Lady does sometimes intervene in ways that look pretty miraculous. She's got that kind of power, only she's bound by lots of rules about what she's allowed to do, and she can't act unless she's asked, she might not do it anyway, and mostly the only ones she can hear asking are the Rhejes. Or…"
"Or someone she's chosen to become a Rhej."
"Yeah." Cynna sighed. When Cullen died, Cynna had called on the Lady. A second later, he'd drawn a breath. Maybe that was coincidence. Maybe it was a debt. "Anyway, the Rhej said that as far as she's concerned, Cullen is Nokolai and will stay that way."
"That makes a difference. Let me think a moment." Rule drummed his fingers on the table once, a habit of Lily's he'd picked up. "He won't lost Nokolai," he said at last. "My father is not easy to predict, but he's extremely unlikely to go against the Rhej on such matter. But it will be difficult. Some both within and outside the clan, will shun Cullen. This is a vital moral issue for us, Cynna."
"I know." She said that with sympathy, because this put Rule in a difficult position. But she'd marry Cullen anyway, and not because she had to have the ring. Because he did. He needed her to be family, to be his.
Well, okay
, she admitted privately as Rule walked her to the door. She needed that, too.
As she told him goodbye, Cynna found something new to marvel over. For years, Rule Turner had been the standard against which all other men were measured. He'd played a part in saving her, whether he knew that or not. Until him, she'd had no idea how a good man treated a woman.
She'd been a bit in love with him long after he left. It had never really died, not for her.
"Have you told Lily?" Rule asked as they reached the door.
"Not yet. I thought you needed to hear first because it affects the clan, and I needed your answer." Oh, this was going to make trouble for him. "Rule." Impulsively she reached for his hand. "I am sorry about… well, the problems. I know this causes problems."
He nodded, but found a wry smile. "I'll cope. I'll even come to the wedding."
And that was a major concession. She beamed at him. "We'll probably hold it outdoors someplace. Not many inside spots big enough for a dragon."
Cynna all but danced down the sidewalk to where she'd parked her car.
Now when she looked at Rule, she might remember what he had been to her, but she didn't want him. Oh, she did in one sense—the my-body-likes-sex way any healthy woman feels around an attractive man. A little more alive, a little more female. But she didn't
want
him.
She wanted to hurry back to the brash and bold, arrogant and tender, often annoying man who loved her. And haul him off to bed, where she could propose to him properly.
[end]
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