Realm of Light (28 page)

Caelan could have
kissed her. She was playing the role of an outraged monarch perfectly. For once
her haughty tone was exactly right.

She swept Caelan
an imperious glance. “Let him speak.”

Caelan lowered his
sword.

Bwend dropped to
his knees at Elandra’s feet. “Majesty,” he said, his accent blurring his words,
his eyes carefully cast down, “have mercy. The beacons have flashed the message
across the empire that you are missing. Reward has been offered. We sought only
your Majesty’s recovery.”

“You attacked us
without provocation,” she said, no mercy in her voice. “You would have killed—”

“No, Majesty!”
Bwend protested.

Caelan struck him
across the mouth with the back of his hand. “Do not interrupt her Majesty!”

Bwend sank lower,
spitting blood on the snow, silent and obedient now.

The other
Thyzarene groaned and rolled over.

Caelan spun around
and grabbed him by the back of his fur tunic, hoisting him up bodily and
shoving him over beside Bwend. Fotel’s dark eyes squinted, then lost focus. He
groaned, supporting his head in his hands.

“Let me kill them
now, Majesty,” Caelan said.

“Wait,” she
replied.

Bwend glanced up
in hope, and slowly Fotel also raised his head.

“Tell me the
truth,” Elandra said. “Swear on your blood-oath that you meant me no harm.”

Bwend didn’t hesitate.
He held out his hand to Caelan, palm up. His gaze never left Elandra’s, not
even when Caelan sliced open his palm. Bright blood welled up in the cup of his
hand. “I swear I meant no harm to your Majesty. I gave loyal service to the
emperor while he lived. I would give loyal service again.”

Tears welled up in
Elandra’s eyes. No longer playacting, she gently placed her gloved hand on the
man’s head. “I will accept your oath and service. Your help, if you will give
it, would do me great service now.”

Hope flashed in
his face, swiftly masked. “Anything, Majesty.”

“Fly me and this
man to Gialta,” she said.

Bwend looked
surprised. “Gialta!”

He and Fotel
exchanged looks. Suspicious again, Caelan edged closer to Elandra and gestured
for her to move back.

She did not. Her
face was very stern. “How swiftly your oath is forgotten.”

“Nay, Majesty,”
Bwend said quickly, bowing his head. “I do not refuse. It is only that Gialta
is far from here. Very far. There is trouble—”

“What kind of
trouble?” she demanded.

“We have heard
rumors only. But they are all of Madruns—”

“Madruns in
Gialta?” Elandra said, anger rising through her voice.

Caelan took over
the questioning now. “What have you heard?”

“That is all,” the
Thyzarene said.

Caelan frowned,
not believing him. “Do these Madruns come from over the border? Or are they
leaving Imperia?”

“The new emperor
has driven them from Imperia. They flee into Gialta—”

Elandra clenched
her fists. “New emperor be damned!
That traitor
! I would like to see him
gutted and left hanging for the vultures to peck!”

Enraged, she paced
away. Both Thyzarenes stared after her with new respect.

“Truly a lady of
warrior blood,” Bwend said cautiously to Caelan.

He nodded. “Her
father is Gihaud Albain of Gialta.”

Fotel looked
blank, but Bwend obviously recognized the name. “A ferocious warrior. Very
rich.”

“Yes. A man
generous to those who help his daughter.”

“I will fly her
there,” Fotel said, his eyes gleaming with avarice.

Bwend’s elbow
rammed into his ribs. “Nay, dog. My Nia will have the honor. She knows the
softest wind currents, how to be gentle in the clouds. Your Basha is but
half-trained and bad-tempered besides.”

Basha roared and
grumbled as though understanding every word. Across the clearing, Nia raised
her head and trumpeted with a proud beating of her wings.

“Basha is hurt,”
Fotel said. “Let me tend him.”

Caelan sheathed
his sword and stepped back. As Fotel climbed to his feet, however, Caelan
gripped him by the front of his tunic and lifted him onto his toes.

“Remember how I
struck you without touch and laid you on the ground,” he said through his
teeth, glaring at the man. “Remember I can do it again. There will be no tricks
from you. Do you understand?”

Bwend also rose to
his feet to intercede. “I gave my blood-oath to her Majesty, Traulander.”

“Fotel gave no
oath.”

“He is in my
service. My oath binds him.”

Caelan met Bwend’s
eyes and wondered just how far he could trust the man’s word, especially once
they were high in the clouds.

“It had better,”
he said, and released Fotel with a shove.

Fotel frowned up
at him. “Are you of Neika blood?”

Before Caelan
could answer this astonishing question, Bwend elbowed Fotel aside.

“Fool!” he said
sharply. “The Neika do not fight.”

“Neither do
Traulanders.”

Caelan looked down
at them, and felt suddenly foreign in this land that had once been his. “I am
Choven,” he said bleakly.

Both Thyzarenes
blanched and backed up. Fotel stared with his mouth open, fear in his eyes.
Bwend bowed with almost the respect he had shown Elandra.

“We ask
forgiveness,” he said humbly. “We have been much mistaken today.”

Caelan did not
unbend. The admission had cost him. He felt as though his identity was being
torn away in strips, peeling him down to something he did not recognize.

Giving Bwend a
nod, he asked, “Must the dragons feed before they can fly?”

“No,” Bwend
answered. He jerked his head at Fotel. “Tend Basha’s burns quickly.”

Fotel sidled
cautiously past Caelan and ran to his dragon, who grumbled and butted his head
at the man in greeting.

“I have a request,
lord,” Bwend said to Caelan.

Not once, in all
his wildest imaginings, had Caelan ever expected to someday hear a savage
Thyzarene raider humbly call him lord. It was bitter to think these men had
instantly believed him Choven, even when he physically did not resemble those
mysterious tribesmen. It only confirmed yet again the truth of what Moah had
told him.

“What is your
request?” Caelan asked.

Bwend pointed at
the dead boy lying in the snow. “That we may bury him from the wolves and
lurkers that will come.”

Caelan did not
hesitate. “I will help you.”

As long as she
lived, Elandra would never forget the experience of flying over mountains,
forests, and marshlands, the clouds melting against her face or lying beneath
her like a thick carpet. Swathed in furs against the cold, she soared and
plummeted, borne easily on the back of the powerful Nia. Her only regret was
that she was not cradled in Caelan’s arms. Instead, she rode with
Bwend—carefully respectful, but stinking of too few baths, too much peat smoke,
and the greasy lard-based salve that seemed to be the Thyzarene solution for
everything from chapped lips to burn treatments.

Caelan rode with
Fotel on the bad-tempered Basha. Perhaps the dragon was in pain, or perhaps he
did not intend to forget that Caelan had caused his burns. But every morning
Fotel had to clamp the dragon’s head between his arm and ribs in order for
Caelan to get near the beast, much less climb on. The beast would rear and try
to fly without Fotel, snapping at everything within reach of his fangs. At
night when they camped in uneasy alliance, Fotel and Basha would move away to
be by themselves. Elandra would hear Fotel singing softly in his native tongue
to the dragon, cradling the beast’s head in his lap and stroking it gently.

It took three days
of steady flying before the air began to feel warm and moist. The clouds were
very tall, rising above them like pillars and sometimes massing into
thunderheads. Elandra’s woolen cloak was plenty of protection, and she no
longer needed the heavy furs that Lea had given her just before they departed.

Thinking of the
girl, Elandra smiled involuntarily. Lea was as beautiful as her brother was
handsome. Gowned in dark blue that enhanced her eyes, she wore a long overtunic
of scarlet cloth embroidered all over with dainty flowers, a fur cloak, and
soft red boots. Her golden hair hung unbound down her back to her hips, and her
dowry necklace was most impressive with nine large, matched emeralds.

Riding a white
pony, Lea had appeared from the forest at the very moment Caelan and Bwend
finished burying Kupel. Elandra had been the first person to notice the girl,
who rode erect and gracefully like a princess. She drew rein at the edge of the
clearing and ventured no closer despite Elandra’s beckoning.

Whether Lea was
shy or afraid of the dragons, Elandra did not know. When Caelan did not
immediately notice the new arrival, Elandra walked over to speak to her.

“You must be Lea,”
Elandra said with a smile, eager to meet her at last. “You look so much like
your brother. I am Elandra.”

Lea slid down from
the saddle and curtsied to her. “Majesty.”

“No, we are
sisters now,” Elandra said, taking her hand to put the girl at her ease. “Do
not be formal.”

“You are the
empress,” Lea said, keeping her eyes downcast.

“I love your
brother very much,” Elandra said. “Does that distress you?”

Lea did not
answer, but finally she lifted her gaze to meet Elandra’s. That’s when Elandra
realized the girl was not shy at all. Her blue eyes were as clear as a mountain
lake, and as deep.

Elandra found
herself falling into that gaze, and when she came back to herself a few moments
later, she was oddly breathless and dizzy. She blinked, putting her hand to her
temple.

“I am glad,” Lea
said. “You are worthy of his love.”

It was a strange,
presumptuous thing to say. Elandra could only stare at her, wondering what this
girl had done to her mind. She felt as though her thoughts had been sifted and
turned over the way someone might go through a box of deeds and papers.

“Do not be angry,”
Lea said. “I had to know if he would be well with you before I let the two of
you go.”

“Let us go?”
Elandra said with a laugh. “But you cannot stop us.”

“I brought you
here,” Lea said matter-of-factly. “I could make you stay. But Moah has shown Caelan
his destiny, and he must go to it. As you must go to yours.”

Elandra felt
slightly chilled. Her hand went to her throat, and she couldn’t stop staring at
Lea, who looked like an innocent child, but who was obviously both a wisdom and
a seer.

“You know of my
destiny?” Elandra asked.

Lea smiled,
showing a dimple. “Oh, yes.”

“Are you of the
sisterhood?”

Now Lea laughed,
and the sound made Caelan look in their direction. He brushed soil from his
hands and headed their way.

“No, I am not,”
Lea said merrily, her blue eyes dancing. “How angry the Magria would be if she
knew you thought so. She would not approve of me.”

Although the
question was rude, impulse made Elandra ask, “And what exactly are you?”

Lea only threw her
a smile and went skipping away to meet Caelan. He swept her up in his strong
arms and kissed her on both cheeks.

“Am I forgiven?”
he asked.

Lea flung her arms
around his neck and hugged him tightly. “Always.”

Watching them,
Elandra felt like an outsider, then Caelan’s eyes met hers over Lea’s shoulder.
He smiled only for her, and she felt warm and secure again in his love. There
was no need to be jealous. She and Lea were not competitors in any sense.

“Are you ready?”
he asked his sister, looking at the laden pony. “We must travel light—”

“Silly, I am not
going,” Lea said. She broke away from him and pulled out furs from the pack
tied behind her saddle. “I brought you these to keep you warm while you are so
high in the air.”

Caelan scowled,
and tactfully Elandra busied herself examining the beautiful furs, leaving
brother and sister to argue in privacy.

“What do you mean,
you’re not going?” Caelan asked.

It was what
Elandra privately called his barking voice. He could sound very clipped and
stern when he was close to losing his temper. Seeing a stubborn light enter
Lea’s blue eyes, Elandra thought he should use a different tone with the girl,
but it was not her place to interfere.

“Of course you are
going,” Caelan said. “I will not leave you behind.”

“But the third
dragon is dead,” Lea pointed out. “And I have much to do here.”

“I’ll talk to
Bwend. We’ll get another dragon—”

“No,” Lea said
firmly, meeting his angry gaze without flinching. “It is not time for me to
leave Trau. Not yet.”

“I won’t abandon
you again.”

Lea took her
brother’s clenched fist between her slender hands and kissed his knuckles. “I
am not abandoned. But this is not my path of life, brother.”

“Lea—”

“Hush,” she said,
trying to soothe him. “Accept what is. Save your fight for what is to come.”

“I need you with
me. You are my conscience.”

Lea smiled and
gave him a hug. “I will come later. I promise.”

“When? How will
you find me when I do not know where I’ll be?”

“You will go back
to Imperia and face Tirhin the Usurper,” she said, her voice so calm and
ordinary it took Elandra a second to realize she was speaking prophecy.

Startled, Elandra
dropped the pretense that she was not listening and turned to stare at the
girl.

Lea did not seem
to mind. She gave Elandra a gentle smile, then returned her attention to
Caelan. Her expression grew earnest, and she gripped his sleeve. “Tirhin was
your friend once.”

“No,” Caelan bit
off the word. “Never. He was my owner.”

“Put away the
bitterness,” Lea urged him. “The past is gone. All that remains is the
present... and the future. You need him, Caelan. You need to make peace with
him.”