Second Stone (18 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

If she had to spend another minute locked in this room, Terin would go out of her mind. The four walls grew a few inches closer each time she blinked her eyes.

In the absence of anything else to do, she lay on the bed, trying to sleep. Maybe she would wake up to find it had all been a nightmare.

Her eyes snapped open as the same purposeful footsteps from the day before approached her door. She instantly resented the little thrill that coursed through her at the thought of seeing him again. She sat up hastily, brushing her skirts smooth as she stood by the bed.

The key rattled in the lock, the door moved inward, and Reeve strode into the room. He was as handsome as her memory claimed, perhaps even more so. Terin would not have been surprised if a thin cord had visibly stretched between him and her, so keenly she felt pulled toward him.

For a moment his eyes settled on hers, and she could swear she glimpsed an aching vulnerability. Terin was almost positive he felt it, too, and it scared him as much as it did her.

“Would you have lunch with me?” Reeve asked, his voice forced and even.

A chance to get out of the room! “Yes, though I’d much rather have lunch in my
own
home.”

His eyes narrowed, and in two long strides he’d crossed the room to stand before her. He surprised her by holding out his arm for her to take it.

Steeling herself, she placed her fingers gently through the crook of his elbow. The moment their skin touched, desire burned through her, searing its path through her flesh from her fingers, along her spine, and spiraling downward. Her knees buckled, and were it not for Reeve supporting her, she would have fallen.

Oh, by The Three, she did not want to feel like this for this man.
My captor
, she reminded herself.

His blue eyes looked almost amused. “Are you all right?”

And as quick as that, her anger surged back. “You mean aside from being taken from my home in the middle of the night, dragged through the wilds by two wretched men, and then locked alone in a room? I’m wonderful, no thanks to you.”

Her breath caught in her throat as his jaw hardened and all amusement fled his eyes. Beneath her fingers, his arm tensed, and Terin recoiled as his other hand rose shakily. She braced herself for the blow she saw coming, willing herself not to flinch.

But Reeve did the last thing she expected. He gently brushed her hair back from her face, rubbing a thumb along her jaw. “I see why my sister likes you.” The corner of his mouth twitched, almost into a smile but not quite, and then, without another word, he led her into a dining hall.

His touch in her chamber had left her heart dancing in her chest. She could feel her pulse strumming through her veins even as she perched on the edge of the plush chair he pulled out for her.

Terin glanced around. Several portraits of green-eyed men and women lined the walls with gold drapes between them. Like the room she’d been locked in, the dining hall was smaller than the one at Castle Ahlen, but it was almost what she’d call cozy.

As if reading her thoughts, Reeve said, “We have a second dining hall that is larger, for formal occasions. This is our family dining room.”

Should she feel honored? Terin didn’t know what to say, so she said nothing.

“Do you have use of your gifts?” Reeve asked.

“No.”

“If you lie, it will displease me.”

Terin gulped. She was telling the truth, but the thought of displeasing him left a sickening weight in her stomach. Some part of her—a part that was rapidly growing—wanted him to be happy with her. What would it be like if he graced her with a true smile? A door at the back of the room opened and a plump, aged woman entered carrying two plates of food.

Their eyes met briefly as the woman set her plate in front of her, and Terin couldn’t quite read the expression in the old woman’s eyes. Quickly, she looked away.

“Your Highness, this is Mairi. She will see to anything you need, all you have to do is ask.”

“Hello, Mairi,” Terin said, watching the woman’s face carefully.

“Mairi has been with our family for several years. She looked after me when I was a child, and she has been very loyal. In fact, it was Mairi who protected my sister and I all those years ago. Perhaps someday she will look after our children, as well.”

The disgust Terin felt at his words was mirrored in Mairi’s kind eyes. Terin couldn’t be sure, but she thought she might have an unexpected friend. Her insides were reeling. Moments ago, she’d been contemplating wanting him to smile at her. Now his nearness left her feeling ill.

“And lest you misunderstand, while Mairi will be tending to you, she answers to me.” Terin’s hopes started to sink, but then soared again. Mairi nodded in agreement with her master, but her eyes screamed mutiny.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Emariya glanced wearily at the bed. Torian hadn’t returned yet, but her exhaustion grew steadily by the moment. She was tempted to just go to sleep; she could see him in the morning. If he had anything important to report, he would have someone wake her. Or maybe he’d wake her himself. Blushing, she put that thought out of her mind.

A light rasp came from the door and Jessa’s voice called through. “Emariya, a maid is here. They want you at the dovecote.”

With a last longing glance at the inviting bed, Emariya opened the door and greeted the child who’d been sent to fetch her.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Jessa looked as tired as Emariya felt, and she had their newly cleaned gowns piled in front of her.

Emariya shook her head. “No. Finish up the packing and then get some rest. I’ve no idea how early we are setting out tomorrow.” When she entered the hallway, her guards took up their positions behind her.

The young girl led her through the corridors without speaking, and Emariya wished she’d grabbed her cloak. Away from the hearth in their suite, it had grown quite chilly, as the breeze whipped in through the high windows. Every so often, the girl would look back over her shoulder, shooting Emariya a shy smile before hurrying along.

She wasn’t entirely sure, but Emariya thought they were working their way to the back of the palace. Her suspicions were confirmed when the girl opened a door and they stepped into the night air together with Emariya’s guards close on her heels.

As if graced with sudden courage, the little girl smiled up at her. “My mum says you’re prettier than your mum was. I believe her. She says your mum died, though. I hope you don’t.”

Emariya didn’t know what to say. She flashed the girl a warm smile. “I hope I don’t, either. If you take after your mum, she must be very pretty, too.” Emariya winked and the girl reddened. She shyly indicated the dovecote and bowed before scampering off.

The guards pulled the doors open for her and Emariya tried to ignore the slightly acrid scent that assaulted her nose. No wonder they kept it detached from the palace. They must have many more birds than the few they kept at Warren’s Rest.

Across the room, Torian looked up as she entered. The elderly gentleman who had first greeted them upon their arrival at Sheas Harbor Palace sat next to him, his knobby limbs folded up under a rickety table. Without looking up at her, he bid her hello and continued to furiously write on the parchment before him.

“You look tired,” Torian said, concern making his voice low and intimate.

She forced a smile. “I’m fine. Have there been further developments?”

“No.” Torian shook his head as Emariya walked close to peer down at the table. “But I wanted to send a message to my father back at Castle Ahlen, to update him, and I came up with a related idea.”

“I wish we had better news for your father.” Emariya looked around the room. All along the walls, tiny holes had been carved for the pigeons to make their nests.

“Me, too. Regardless, your brother was expecting us to go to Sheas and ask Master Hendel to withdraw.”

“Right,” Emariya said, not quite understanding what Torian was getting at. She stepped closer to him. Even among the odor of the birds, she could detect the faint, earthy, and familiar scent of Torian. Knowing he was close innately made her feel better.

“Master Hendel and I were discussing it. Your mother kept you in your mind after your brother learned we were coming to Sheas. Either he didn’t want you to learn that Hendel didn’t have Oren, or else he didn’t want him to withdraw.”

“But why wouldn’t he want the conflict at the fjord to end?” Now she was even more puzzled.

“It goes back to his motivations. We know he is seeking power. The only reason he had to prevent your father from returning would be so that he could take his place at the head of the Council. So what does he get by being on the Council?”

“Um, power?”

“Well, yes. But power to do what? Call war. We assume that your brother wants to reunite The Three Corners under his leadership. Why else would he want to bind the lines? The power of the gifts shouldn’t be enough of a lure on their own, especially since he himself commands two of the three.”

“I’ve wondered the same thing myself.”

“Right. I think we’ve all said it without really getting it. He’s trying to finish what your mother started. Bringing The Three Corners back together under a forced peace. He wants the power of it, and he also does truly want to see the people thrive. Your mother believed that the only way that could happen was if the lands were brought back under one leader. He has adopted her ideals.”

“I still don’t see what this has to do with the Council.” Emariya could see Torian was likely right about her brother’s plans, but how did it relate to the fjord?

“He can’t attack Sheas without the approval of the Council. Not without inciting a civil war on his own turf.”

Understanding dawned. “And the Council would never agree to that without being provoked.”

“Exactly.” Torian nodded.

“So he
wants
a battle to happen at the fjord.” Anger flared as she thought about her brother willingly sacrificing her people.

“Which is exactly what we don’t want. But we don’t want Warren’s Rest reinforced, either.”

“So then what are you suggesting?”

Torian smiled conspiratorially. “We make him think you are on his side again. Rather, that
we
are. He was likely counting on failure at the fjord to motivate the Council, but he needed a battle to at least happen.”

“So you think if he believes he can win, he will send more men from Warren’s Rest to the fjord?”

“If he is smart, he will. A win would of course still entail a few losses, but he can’t afford many losses. Then the Council would be ready to help avenge those lost, plus be emboldened enough by the win to think that with our help they truly can take Sheas and they would be less hesitant.”

Emariya let out a sigh. She didn’t like it, but it did make sense, and it would at least make it easier for them to get into Warren’s Rest to rescue her father and Terin. “So how do we convince him?”

The old man finally looked up from his writing. “I want you to write to your brother as if under duress. It must appear that you snuck it past us. Tell him that you were unable to convince us, but that you disabled our troops so we won’t be able to send any more. You will say that with the troops you bring with you, and what your brother already sent, you think you can win. Tell him you overheard that our troops there are getting restless, but that we had underestimated you and sent our weakest men.”

Emariya raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “How am I supposed to make him think I disabled your troops?”

“Burned down the stables, maybe?”

“He’d never believe it. I’d never hurt the horses!”

Torian smiled. “True enough, my tender heart.”

“We can tell him there has been an outbreak of illness. Perhaps you hastened it with your herbal skills. Non-lethal, of course.” The gentleman smiled at her.

“It might work…but I don’t know.” She chewed her lip, thinking.

Offering her his spot at the table, the old man got up and moved out of the way. Emariya frowned at the blank scroll before her, then touched the quill down with a practiced stroke. She wrote as hurriedly as possible, trying not to cringe as her normally flowing, beautiful text scrawled across the paper. As soon as she was done, it was sent away with one pigeon while another carried Torian’s letter to his father.

“Your Highness, it is imperative you keep your mind blank to your mother if your deception is to be believed,” the old man said, moving across the room and pulling a vial from a fold of his crimson robe. “I thought perhaps you would appreciate an extra vial of mindroot. We wouldn’t want your stores running out.”

Instantly alert, Emariya moved away, not taking the vial. “How did you know I was using mindroot?”

The old man just smiled. “I know many things, child, and even if you do not, I hope you can see that I am a friend.”

“Then why are you avoiding her question?” Torian, too, had gone on high alert.

“Because sometimes it is possible to learn more through the pursuit of answers than through the answers themselves.”

––––––––

––––––––

The old man, Fidwen, saw the prince and princess out of the dovecote and then pulled out another parchment. Dipping his quill in the inkwell, he sat down to write.

We must seize our opening. The time has come to move on Warren’s Rest.

Sealing his folded letter with his own personal seal instead of that of the Hendels, he quickly looked around to make sure no one was watching before he released the bird outside the dovecote.
Fair skies and fast winds, my feathered friend,
he thought to himself.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

They left Sheas Harbor very differently than they had ridden into it. Instead of a formal procession, they simply rode, with little care for performance. No banners waved announcing their identity, but any who saw them would have no doubt who they were.

Where Emariya had been a curiosity on her ride in, stared at and murmured over, on the way out, she saw hardly anyone. At the first sign of her uncle’s army, all the citizens of the Harbor quickly cleared the streets. Were they afraid of Rees?

Their prisoners had been left to the care of the palace. Emariya vowed she wouldn’t give them another thought. They’d chosen not to be her problem.

Almost all of the men from Sheas Harbor wore quivers and bows upon their backs. They began the morning mingled together, but by midday, there was an obvious divide between the troops from Sheas and the troops from Thalmas. Surprisingly, the Thalmas troops outnumbered those from Sheas. Then Emariya remembered that Sheas already had troops waiting at the fjord. Did she? Were the men of Eltar at the fjord her brother’s men or her own?

Storm clouds rolled steadily across the raging Malburn Sea to the south as they rode on throughout the day, never pausing for a meal. Rees Hendel drew his mount alongside of Emariya and Torian accompanied by a gust of pungent salty air.

“We’ll have a storm tonight. It would wreak havoc on our tents, so our best bet is to push on and try to get past it. If we’re lucky, it will be snow, not rain, but I think it may be too warm for that.”

Emariya was having an extremely hard time thinking of the current biting wind as ‘warm.’ Still, her uncle was right. The snow wouldn’t soak them as thoroughly as a downpour of torrential rain might. The slightly warmer temperatures also offered a brutal reminder of spring looming ahead of them. They were running out of time.

“Our horses can push the pace for a good while if yours can.” Torian always had every confidence in the horses bred at Castle Ahlen.

“They are lucky the ground is still frozen; they might have more trouble slogging through wet sand, clay, and marshland.” Rees returned Torian’s mild challenge.

“True enough.” Torian had to yell to be heard over the biting wind.

Rees offered Emariya a word of caution. “It’s not just me you’ve got to win over, though I suspect you’ll fare all right as far as that goes. My men may be a harder sell. If you are to succeed, and if I am to even consider backing off at Thandrel’s Fjord, my men must respect you, or else I’ll be seen as a coward. They’ve got to have faith that you have what it takes to lead.”

Emariya thought he was trying to say that he was fond of her. She was also growing fond of him. “I can lead Eltar. They know me. They will follow.”

“Don’t be so sure. When they see you ride up with Sheas and Thalmas at your back, they may wonder how much they know you after all. And I don’t just mean to lead Eltar. To succeed, I need to know you could lead Sheas, as well, should it be necessary.”

“But Blaine—”

Rees’s tone took on a harder edge. “Don’t worry about Blaine. He dislikes you because he knows what I also know. The people of Sheas always planned to follow Valencia someday. Seeing you ride in—to them, it feels like their heiress has returned. I need to know you won’t betray their faith in you.”

A pang of unwelcome sympathy for Blaine asserted itself before Emariya shoved it aside. “Why did you unseat the Roths if you aren’t determined that Sheas must forever more follow the Hendels?”

“I think you know by now that the Roths are a passionate, impulsive breed of people.”

Beside her, Torian snorted. “You don’t say.”

Cutting her eyes at him, Emariya glared.

Rees continued, “Even though I am not a Roth by blood, I share this characteristic with them. I let my anger get the best of me.”

“Anger over my mother’s death, or over her going to Eltar in the first place?”

“Both, perhaps. Though mostly her death. I loved your mother dearly. She was idealistic and na
ï
ve, but she truly did believe she could bring peace, which is why she went to Eltar. I thought it was foolish, and I blamed Kahl for allowing her.”

“I suspect‘allow’ might not be the right term for the situation.” Torian grinned at Emariya.

The corners of his mouth turned up in a subtle smile as Rees nodded. “Probably not. But regardless, I couldn’t see that then.”

Ignoring the little flutters Torian’s playful grin sent running through her, Emariya said, “Those ideals have led her to disastrous choices.”

“Emariya, your mother wasn’t always the angry person you describe. I can only assume the fate that befell her had something to do with that. She became hard, where before she was light, and good. Honestly, I have trouble picturing the Valencia you describe. She was always unrealistic, but never cruel.”

“I would have liked to have known her like that.” Sadness crept into her voice, and Torian looked over with a sympathetic smile. Even now, when she felt such intense anger for her mother, she still harbored an unshakable love for the woman she’d never gotten to know.

“So you blamed Eltar, and the Roths, but neither were responsible,” Torian said.

“True, I blamed them. And I was definitely angry. But that’s not why I removed them from power. Everyone thinks that because it’s easier to think that and hate me than admit our land’s own sordid secrets.”

“Alrec,” Emariya guessed.

“Exactly. With your mother dead, Alrec would be first in line to lead if your grandfather died. I refused to even entertain the thought of a Sheas led by Alrec, so I made sure it wasn’t a possibility.”

“Is he truly that bad?” Emariya asked.

“Alrec is brash, and bold, and power-hungry. From what you’ve said, it sounds as though his son takes after him. Had he been in charge, Sheas would have been in constant turmoil. He wouldn’t have stopped until he’d taken Eltar and Thalmas by force, no matter the cost to us.”

“Is that any different than the attacks you’ve levied at us for years?” Torian asked, his eyes darkening.

Emariya shifted on her filly, watching her uncle as he responded.

“There is value in keeping potential opponents on the defensive.” Rees shrugged. “But we never actually attempted to take your land. The costs to both of our lands would not have been worth it.”

Torian grumbled something under his breath.

“I’m not that different than the two of you. All I want is to ensure my land stays safe.”

“Wouldn’t the best way to accomplish that be through a treaty?” Emariya asked.

“Perhaps, but only if Eltar is also willing to enter into it. Prove to me you can bring Eltar to the table and we will seriously consider it.”

Torian looked at Emariya, sadness in his eyes. “But even without Eltar, you could treaty with Thalmas.”

Rees Hendel laughed, a deep, throaty chuckle. “As long as you two are together, a treaty with Thalmas is worthless without Eltar. She’d never side against Eltar and you’d never side against her.”

Was her uncle right? Emariya desperately hoped she’d never have to find out.

It wasn’t long before the driving rains found them and any thoughts of conversation were abandoned. The travelers were veiled in darkness as the clouds rolled in, blocking the sun’s weak light.

Emariya’s filly shifted nervously beneath her as a jagged bolt of lightning cracked across the sky illuminating the salty plain, followed by deep baritone thunder.

“I need to find Jessa!” Emariya shouted to Torian, trying to be heard above the storm. After her perilous experience with her runaway horse, Jessa would be terrified of her horse bolting in the storm.

“She’s probably toward the back,” Torian hollered. Generally, when Jessa wasn’t riding alongside her and Torian, she ended up gravitating toward the other servants who followed the troops. Throughout the day, without any specific effort to arrange themselves, the two armies had each formed themselves into their practiced positions, drawn by the comfort of familiarity.

With a swift tug on her reins, Emariya turned her filly’s head, planning to pull aside to let the rest of the group pass them.

Torian shook his head, waving to get her attention. “Riya, we’ve got to keep moving! It’s almost impossible to see anything—how do you expect to find her? The riders behind us are liable to run over us in the rain.”

Emariya shook her head, determined to find her friend. “You can go on if you want. I’ll catch up.”

The wind stole his words, which might have been to his benefit. She couldn’t be entirely sure, but she thought her ears caught the word ‘daft’ before his statement was carried away. If thoughts of Jessa weren’t filling her brain, she would have taken the time to be annoyed. She spun her filly and began to slowly move against the flow of oncoming riders.

The icy rain drove directly into her eyes as she tried to scan the throng of riders. Shivering, Emariya brushed at the hair plastered against her face, trying to keep it out of her eyes. Drops of frigid water ran in rivulets, streaming down her head, clouding her sight and assaulting her eyes. What she wouldn’t give to control the weather now. It might be rumored that a Warren practiced at their gift could do just that, but she most certainly couldn’t. But maybe, if the gift of the Warrens couldn’t help her, the gift of the Roths could.

Reaching up beneath her soaking wet cloak, she fingered her mother’s locket. Before she could try to contact her grandmother, another harsh bolt of lightning cracked across the sky, accompanied by a deafening rumble of thunder. Several horses nearby reared and her own filly shied, sidestepping nervously and tossing her head. Thoughts of the locket abandoned, Emariya embedded her fingers in Raina’s drenched mane and gripped as hard as she could with her legs.

Whipping her head around, she watched as Torian brought his own mount under control. Any other time she might have been distracted by his devilishly handsome hair, curled against his head, but the grimly determined set of his jaw attracted her attention instead. Once his stallion had settled, he rode up next to her and said, “All right, we’ll go together to find her. I’m not losing track of you in this mess.”

Despite the chill of the storm, his words and the vehemence behind them warmed her heart. She nodded. “We should have stopped, even it we couldn’t put up tents; we would’ve been better off. Everyone is getting too spread out.” Emariya gestured the way they were heading. The pack of riders they’d started with had thinned considerably, and from what she could see ahead of her, the back of the pack consisted mostly of inexperienced servants trying to get their mounts to mind them. If someone didn’t get them organized, they were going to be left behind.

Torian shook his head. “Stopping wouldn’t have done much good. The horses would still possibly bolt.”

There weren’t really any good options. It wouldn’t do to waste time wondering which method might have yielded the least miserable results. Emariya’s eyes steadily scanned the haggard-looking group of servants. “Jessa isn’t here!” she called to Torian. Dread filled her stomach. Where was Jessa?

“We need to round everyone up, get them back together,” Torian said.

Emariya looked behind her as the pack of horses struggled against the relentless rain. She could see the truth to his words, but the thought of Jessa alone, terrified, was too much. “Torian, I wasn’t there for her when she had to kill a man. I’ve
got
to find her!”

The fight seemed to go out of him and his shoulders slumped. “Go. I’ll bring up the rear. I’ll see you when the weather clears. And Emariya—be careful. I love you.”

Her breath hitched and her chest tightened. With a small, private smile, she nodded and turned her horse back toward the front of the weary, rain-soaked group. Even with her teeth chattering and her eyes burning from the rain, she warmed at the memory of his words as she rode. The rain was now more at her back than driving into her face, making it at least a little easier to see.

When she dug her heels into Raina’s flank, the filly was only too happy to oblige, propelled forward by nervous energy.

It wasn’t long before the pack seemed to tighten and she had to concentrate on scanning each rider, looking for her friend.

She had to be somewhere, but where?

When she estimated she’d passed about half of the riders, Emariya came across Garith and Rink. “Have you seen Jessa?” she asked, her words carrying on the wind.

“No, I thought she was with you!” Garith shouted.

Emariya shook her head. “Can you go help Torian? He’s at the back trying to round up stragglers. The servants are having issues with their horses.”

“Aren’t we all?” Garith asked, glaring down at his own mount.

As Garith headed the opposite direction with Rink on his heels, Emariya continued to press her filly faster, moving toward the front of the pack.

It was hard to say for sure, but she thought the rain was beginning to lighten. Thinking on it, she realized it had been a bit since the last crack of thunder.

Catching sight of her uncle’s crimson cloak, Emariya’s hopes began to sink. She’d made it nearly to the front, and still she hadn’t found Jessa. Then, as if pulled by an unnatural force, Emariya’s eyes focused on the rider beside her uncle. Blaine. Her gaze narrowed, her thoughts darkening even more. The mere thought of her obnoxious cousin brought murderous ideas to mind. She shook her head. Now was not the time to be petty.
He definitely brings out the worst in me
, Emariya thought.

She was just about to turn once more to work her way toward the back when a chilly gust of wind sent wild tendrils of flame-red hair flying in front of Blaine. Someone was riding in front of him. Jessa!

Putting her heels once more to her filly’s side, Emariya hurried up beside him. Relief stole across her face when Jessa’s eyes met her own.

“Hi, Riya.” Jessa gave her a small smile as she huddled against Blaine, looking like a little lost bird that had fallen out of its nest.

“Your Highness,” Blaine greeted her nonchalantly.

“Jessa! You’ve had me so worried. I’ve been all the way to the back of the group and up again looking for you. I was afraid your horse might be giving you trouble.”