Return to Shanhasson (12 page)

Shannari’s bond burned silver and cold,
sharp as the ivory
rahke
she’d
inherited from the Shadowed Blood. Bitterness, anger, desperation, all fueled
her rage until he feared she would do something unforgivable.

:I
shall wait for you with our co-mate. I shall never leave you.:

:You’re
leaving me now!:

:Forgive
me,
na’lanna
Evening Star, for bringing you this pain.
Your love was the greatest gift of my life.:

Her light faltered, dimming with her
grief.
:And the greatest sacrifice.:

:Aye,
:
he replied softly, both to her and the waiting
sangral na’kindre
.
:I merely
die, my heart, but not even death shall keep me from you.:

* * *

THE FIRST STRIKE OF HOOVES KNOCKED her
from the saddle. Screaming his name, Shannari struggled to breathe, to think of
a way to save him, to convince him he could fight this horrible destiny. After
everything they’d been through, after all they’d risked and suffered to save
their people, how could this happen?

Dharman caught her, easing her to the
ground. Hooves struck Rhaekhar again, and pain exploded in her head. His skull
had been cracked. She knew his pain, his fear, yet he never once fought back.

Honor, always he thought of his honor.
What of her? What of their children? How could he leave them without even
trying to protect himself?

She felt his ribcage shatter, his heart
pounding, struggling to beat even as his own ribs sliced open his lungs and
organs. He threw up his arm, too little too late, hooves crushing his bones
like twigs.

Blood in her mouth, whether hers or his,
she didn’t know. She couldn’t see, not with darkness swallowing her whole.

:Khul’lanna!:
Dharman’s low voice growled in her mind, blazing red in the growing darkness.
:Hold my bond. Give me some of this pain.:

So dark, so cold. At least here, the
pain began to dim. It felt distant, removed from her poor fragile body. She
heard the slow steady drip of water somewhere and smelled the sweet spring that
powered the Silver Lake. Water closed over her head. She tried to move her arms
and swim to keep her head up out of the water, but she felt upside down. The
waters of the holy lake had never been so deep, so cold, so dark. It sucked her
under, rolled her back and forth, swirling faster toward some shore she’d never
seen before.

Rippling light shone weakly through the
murk. The moon always shone on the Silver Lake, except this was red, as though
the moon dripped blood into the water.

Chains dragged her deeper. She couldn’t
feel her arms or legs any longer. It was too cold. Far away, she heard a
distorted whisper.

:Khul’lanna,
please, reach for me.:

The red wasn’t blood from the moon after
all, but Sal’s hair floating in the water. Golden wheat mixed with the red, and
she knew her two nearest Blood had dived after her. She could almost make out
their form in the water far above, dark fishes swimming deeper, seeking their
prey.

:Khul’lanna!:
They swam faster, harder, their hair floating closer.
:Come back to us.:

Dharman’s voice broke, his bond raging
with sorrow, as grief-stricken as she’d felt just moments ago. Numbed by cold
and darkness, she couldn’t stir much more than pity and sadness in her heart.
She sacrificed. Now they would sacrifice. Her nine young Blood. At least they
would be free to be warriors, to have mates of their own, lives that didn’t
involve protecting her from her infinite enemies.

:The
twins,:
Dharman strained so hard she felt a wisp of his
hair brush her face despite the weight of water squeezing her lungs.
:Would you leave them, too?:

Her sweet baby girls. First their
fathers; now their mother. She knew Drendon and Alea would care for them as
much as their own children, but her heart still ached for her daughters. They
were doomed to love and suffering, just as she’d been cursed by Our Blessed
Lady’s blood. Her bloodline had continued with them, and they’d never be more
than a pawn or broodmare if they weren’t careful.

:You
were never pawn nor broodmare, brightheart.:

The Black Dragon from her Dream rumbled
in the darkness. Of course, this would be his domain, the Shadow dragging her
to death. He would always lie in wait for her.

:You
always die for love.:
Despite water everywhere, she
clearly heard him snort with derision.
:I
much prefer hatred myself. Die, and leave me again. I will raze your Shining
Walls to the ground when I come to your Green Lands. Die, and drag your sweet
darling boys to their deaths. Kill them with their love. Love certainly killed
you.:

:Khul’lanna.:
If Dharman was anyone but her stoic First Blood, she would have said he wailed.
:Don’t surrender this
kae’don
. Don’t surrender us to death before we ever
have the opportunity to love you. Brightest Evening Star,
na’lanna Qwen
, my beloved Queen, please. Reach for me. I
can still save you, if only you will let me.:

The last sentence rebounded in the
darkness, his ferocious determination ringing like steel. Indeed, he could save
her, if only she wanted to be saved.

The Black whispered, his voice sly, his
claws clattering on the cold stone of her heart.
:You swore you loved me, and then left me to suffer your Red’s eternal
fury. You left me to darkness, cold and alone and filled with hatred. Leave
them to me, brightheart. I’ll show them how love kills. I’ll show them how much
your love is worth.:

She searched the darkness below, looking
for any sign of Rhaekhar. His bond dissolved, leaving a gaping hole where her
heart had been. Yet above, nine red threads gleamed despite the murk. Dharman
and Sal followed her in death. Could she bear the guilt, knowing she’d dragged
them to an early pyre? She felt their fury and fear, their agonized love. So
terribly young, strong and proud, her ferocious Blood.

Gathering every ounce of her strength,
she flung out a long-numbed arm already cold with death. She lurched toward the
hand straining just out of her reach. She missed Dharman’s hand, but managed to
seize a lifeline just the same. Sal’s red hair twined around her fingers,
clinging to her flesh eagerly. She strained again, panting in her mind. Her
heart had ceased beating, the light had died, and even the cold had become
meaningless. All that mattered was finding Dharman’s hand.

If
I can only touch him…

Her fingers brushed his. She knew his
touch despite the ocean of death separating them. His bond seized her failing
spirit.

:Choose,:
he whispered, his voice trembling with pain. Not his; hers. Leaning over her
body that had forgotten how to breathe, her proud young Blood cried for her.
:If you’d rather go with him, I understand.
I drew you back from Gregar’s death, but I refuse to stand between you and your
love again. All I ask is that you take us with you. Don’t leave us,
na’lanna
Qwen
, I beg you.:

:Love
hurts.:
Shadow crooned in her mind.
:It kills so sweetly. Let the horse king’s heavy beads of honor drag
you under too. Run from your young Red’s love as you’ve run all these amusing
years. Run, brightheart. Run to death. Run to me.:

Rhaekhar’s bond was utterly swallowed by
darkness. She was empty, cracked open and drained so that not even blood
remained.

:Damn
him for leaving me, and damn you too:
Raging at the Black
Dragon whose gaping jaws yawned beneath her ready to swallow her whole, she
flung herself back, gripping Dharman’s bond.
:I never run, not even from this.:

With a mighty pull, Dharman hauled her
back toward the light. His arms came around her, then Sal, their bodies searing
her frozen flesh, forcing her heart to beat again. The moon gleamed above,
rippling on the surface, but before her head broke the water, she heard the low
purring rumble of a dragon.

:That’s
my brightheart.:
The dragon chuckled, licking his long
silver-tipped claws.
:This time, you’ll
be mine evermore.:

Choking and gasping, she lay in
Dharman’s arms in the cold, pale sunlight. Light snow swirled in the air.
Shivering and wet, she clutched him and sobbed. “Lady help me, he’s dead.
Rhaekhar’s dead.”

CHAPTER

SIX

THEY
ARRIVED ON THE SHORES OF THE SILVER LAKE AT THE SAME TIME. Dharman lifted her
down off her mare and Sal slipped up to take her other arm. Unobtrusively, they
supported her weight when her own knees refused to hold her. Head up and dry
eyed, she watched silently as Varne led the golden stallion toward her.

Khan’s mighty head drooped, his withers
stained with blood. Khul’s Blood had slung his body over the back of his
stallion, and he’d dripped blood all the way down the formidable slopes. Above,
Vulkar’s Mountain rumbled mournfully, belching dark smoke, but no fire touched
the sky, only the sorrow of ash.

The pyre had already been built. The
Nine Camps had already gathered in preparation for their annual event, so there
was no need to wait. They’d have a new Khul before the sun set on the morrow.

She laughed mirthlessly, her voice
catching on a sob.
No, I won’t cry. He
chose to die. He chose to leave me, his daughters, and his people.

Of course, the moment her daughters ran
to her, their faces streaked with tears, her resolve broke. She fell to her
knees and clutched them in her arms. Whether they comforted her or she them,
she couldn’t say, but after another storm of tears had scoured her weary body
once more, she found the will to stand. Head up, she walked—albeit as stiffly
and slowly as an old crone—to the pyre.

Blood had caked his face in a red mask,
his hair matted and dark. Unsheathing the ivory
rahke
, she cut off his braids anyway, making sure to take the
coiled braid of sable hair that he’d worn to honor their co-mate.

Two mates, two great loves, both now
dead. Her hand trembled so badly she couldn’t sheathe the blade without cutting
herself. Sal did it for her, unashamed of the tears trailing down his cheeks.
All her young warriors wept. They wept because she couldn’t. She’d filled that
salty lake of her Dreams with tears. She had nothing left but sorrow cracking
open her heart as surely as that blasted, punished land.

Crying softly, Alea brought a heavy
cloak lined with fur and draped it over Shannari’s shoulders, giving her a hug.
Only then did she realize all the Sha’Kae al’Dan had dressed for colder
weather. They wore long-sleeved tunics and pants of buckskin and woolens
instead of the normal simple cloths about their hips. Snow still wisped in the
air, but not enough to cover the ground. Soon, though, this land would be
buried in snows. It would be frozen solid, as cold as her heart.

Body stooped and twisted with age, the
same holy man who’d made Rhaekhar Khul, married him to Shannari, and then
oversaw their co-mate’s funeral now shuffled over and laid a gnarled hand on
her shoulder.

“Your Lady weeps with you, child,”
Kae’Shaman
whispered, his voice shaking.
“Your sorrow creeps across the Plains in a killing frost. We shall suffer the
bitter cold of your grief in a miserable Winter unmatched in generations. As your
heart suffers, so will we. Winter will break only when your heart warms once
more.”

“Leesha wants me to go back,” she
replied dully, staring down at Rhaekhar’s face. He’d died in horrible pain—she
knew firsthand, because she’d felt every blow. While a holy horse had pummeled
him into the ground and he broke her heart as many times as those hooves broke
his body, he’d worn a smile. She didn’t have to ask to know that dying by one
of Vulkar’s most holy children was surely a very great honor.

Yet in that moment, she hated him. She
hated that he’d died in such blissful peace, leaving her to suffer alone.

:Never
alone,:
Dharman reminded her. He and Sal both stood pressed
against her, holding her firmly as though they still feared she would slip from
their grasp and breathe her last.

“Aye.”
Kae’Shaman
squeezed her shoulder, his aged fingers digging into her
so hard that she made a little sound of pain. It shook her out of her dulled,
frozen state, and she looked into his eyes. “The Dark Mare needs you to return
to Shanhasson. You must wear the Rose Crown, a constant symbol of love. We need
you to shine, Shannari dal’Dainari, Last Daughter, because something darker
than the night comes to your Green Lands. The Endless Night is coming. He’s
coming for you.”

Bruised and broken her heart may be, his
words still managed to stir dread. “Lygon is imprisoned beneath the Palace in
Shanhasson. As long as I live—”

“You were Chosen,” he interrupted, his
voice shaking with urgency. “As the Dark Mare, you loved Khul, our Great Wind
Stallion’s son, on the Sea of Grass as testimony for the Sha’Kae al’dan. You
each walked in the flesh, but carried the stamp and powers of your Gods. Think
you that the Endless Night does not also have flesh? Did He not walk in your
Shadowed Blood? You won that
kae’don
.
Gregar was saved by your love. Yet there are other
kae’don
, child, other Shadows who want to corrupt your love and
destroy you.”