The Betrayal (17 page)

Jharan reached a hand toward the box, tapping it with a fingertip. “Is there any magecraft in the ring?”

“No. I would have sensed it. The workmanship is fine, but there is naught of magecraft.”

Turisan felt a sudden weariness. He wished to leave, to get out of Rephanin's disturbing presence and out of his soiled riding leathers, to wash himself clean. He turned to his father.

“If you have no further need of me …”

“Yes, go. Thank you, Turisan. You and I will discuss this further when you are refreshed.”

Turisan bowed to them both before retiring from the audience chamber. He had more to say to his father, much more, and a letter for him from Felisan, but they could wait until the two of them were alone.

As he made his way toward his chambers, he wondered how much to tell his father of Eliani. Thinking of her woke the yearning in his heart, and he touched the scroll still reposing in his leathers. He longed to speak to her, to cross the distance between them with a single thought. Though he was glad to be home, a part of him—a corner of his heart—remained in Alpinon.

Eliani roamed the woodlands near Highstone under a starry sky, unable to rest body or mind. The air was chill, and she wore her cloak over her tunic and legs. Though this and the walking kept her flesh warm, she felt cold in her heart.

She had argued with herself for days, thinking over her past, pondering her future, and remembering again and again her last conversation with Turisan. She could no longer think, and she had reached no decision at all. She was numb.

Her aimless steps brought her to the bridge across the Asurindel. She walked out onto it, gazing at the tumbling river below. The distant thunder of the Shades reached up into her flesh through her feet, carried by the wooden bridge from the rock on which it rested. Darkwood, this bridge. Imported at great trouble from Fireshore. She crossed it to the north shore, following the path to the Shades.

She had kept away from them, hoping to forget her last visit there, but instead the memory haunted her. Perhaps looking at the falls, recalling that they were merely water and stone, would ease her discomfort.

She paused on the pebbled footpath, touching fingertips to the stone wall to steady herself, closing her eyes briefly. Even here she could smell the mist of the falls, feel its chill beginning to envelop her. Though she had loved the Shades since childhood, the sensations now evoked dread.

She feared Turisan, feared his gentleness, the dark eyes that called to her and made her ache to be held, the devotion he had offered. Eternal, eternal devotion. To be handfasted. Bound forever.

She could refuse him, refuse both handfasting and mindspeech, though it would make for awkwardness
when they assumed the governance of their realms. Or she could resign that fate as well, cede it to Gharinan, who would be a competent governor, perhaps better than she. She could return to the Guard or retire to some distant holding, far to the north in the warm hills near the Steppe Wilds.

And be no more comfortable than she was now.

A part of her wanted to yield to Turisan, to let him overwhelm her, to drown herself in the physical pleasures she knew he could offer her. She had felt this way before. Kelevon had seemed wonderful at first, but that had changed after they had become lovers. All had changed, but not before she had made a pledge she soon came to regret.

She strode along the path to the Shades, taking care as she neared the falls and the footing became rocky and wet. Rounding the ridge that sheltered the path, she stepped onto the shore of the falls' wide pool.

Starlight painted the billowing mist in shades of silver and blue. White drifts floated among the old conces by the foot of the falls. Eliani felt the power of the crashing water ring through her flesh. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, wishing the thunder would pound all her fears out of her.

What spirits watched her path? She had begged them for guidance in her meditations and never heard an answer. Did the ældar who watched over all ælven, the guardians of their race, see her plight? Was her distress worthy of the attention of such beings, or was it a mere trifling matter of the flesh-bound, not meriting their trouble?

She parted her lips and inhaled deeply, taking cold mist into her lungs, tasting a metallic tang of stone in the moisture. Dizzied, she opened her eyes.

A pale female figure stood beside the three conces. Eliani blinked moisture from her eyes, thinking at first that it was Heléri.

It was not, though the long hair was braided in two plaits as Heléri often wore hers. On a chill night in autumn Heléri would not have gone walking dressed only in pale gossamer, dressed only in …

Mist. The female's garments billowed and shimmered around her as she stood gazing at the conces.

Eliani's neck prickled. She began to breathe shallowly despite her efforts not to. Cold coursed through her limbs as instinct prompted her to run. She defied it and stood still, watching.

The female raised her head and turned to look at Eliani—or through her, rather—with eyes black and hollow. For a moment both were still, then the stranger turned away, leaving the conces and moving closer to the falls. At the edge of the pool she kept walking, crossing its agitated surface as lightly as if it were frozen over, disappearing at last into the surging whiteness where the cascade struck the pool.

Eliani stood trembling. She had never, in all her fifty years, seen a shade before.

She should tell Heléri. Her eldermother could explain what this meant. Eliani felt a sudden, urgent need to visit her at once. She turned, then a prickle of realization swept through her.

“Oh.”

Glancing up at the sky, she saw the stars through wavering mist. She knew the spirits did not truly dwell among the stars, but still she thought of the sky as their home.

“I see. Thank you.”

Her words were swallowed by the roar of the Shades. Turning her back on the falls and the vision they had given her, she hastened to Heléri's house.

Misani welcomed her in the hearthroom, and Heléri looked up from her place by the fire. She was weaving again, though she pushed her work aside at Eliani's entrance.

“I have missed you, child.”

Eliani felt a tingle in her cheeks, knowing she had not visited in ten days or more. Usually she came more often.

“I needed to think. Forgive my absence.”

“It was not a complaint. Come, sit here. You look chilled.”

Eliani joined Heléri beside the fire, stretching her hands to the warmth. “I have been down to the Shades.”

“Ah?”

Eliani glanced toward Misani, who was tidying the table where Heléri took her meals. Heléri followed her gaze.

“Some tea to warm you, my child?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

Misani brought a cup, and Heléri poured from a ewer that sat warming on the hearth. Eliani fetched a fresh log to the fire and promised herself she would go when it was consumed, if not before. She sat in silence, watching flames lick the new wood.

A few moments later Misani took her leave. Eliani gave her a smile and a soft word of farewell. When she was gone, Eliani looked at the fire, where her log was now fully involved in flame and burning brightly, then glanced up at Heléri.

“I believe I saw a shade.”

Heléri nodded as if waiting for her to continue. Eliani had not expected such a reaction.

“You do not seem surprised. Until to night I did not believe they existed.”

Heléri smiled. “Oh, they exist, though there are but
two at the falls, unless a third has formed. Tell me what you saw.”

Eliani described the female figure who had seemed to gaze at her and then walked into the foot of the crashing water. Heléri listened, nodding.

“That would be Ghivahri, most likely. It sounds like her.”

Eliani looked at her in surprise. “You know her name? Did you know the shades?”

“Oh, no.” Heléri reached for the ewer on the hearth. “They crossed long before I came to Alpinon. I have seen two of them, though, and learned of them from my lord, Davharin.”

Eliani felt a shiver run down her chest. “I had thought it was only a legend.”

“Legends have origins.”

Heléri poured tea for herself and filled Eliani's cup. All the scents and flavors of a summer orchard rose from the hot brew. Eliani sipped cautiously at it, then sat turning the cup in her hands.

“I thought perhaps my seeing her was the spirits' answer to my request for guidance. It seemed they were urging me to consult you.”

Heléri set the ewer down by the fire. “Perhaps they were. If I can help you, I will gladly do so.”

Eliani stared at the rosy tea in her cup. She did not know how to begin. At last she swallowed and drew a breath.

“Turisan wishes to be handfasted with me.”

Immediately unable to sit still, she set her cup down and began to pace the room. Heléri watched her in silence, waiting patiently as she tried to shape her jumbled thoughts into coherence.

“I know I am not—that before, I was—” Eliani stopped, angry with herself, and faced Heléri. “Would it be a mistake?”

Heléri leaned toward her. “I cannot tell you that. What is your wish?”

“I—I do not know. I just thought perhaps, if we cannot escape each other, we may as well make it public.”

Heléri laughed softly. “I have never before heard that given as a reason for handfasting.” She leaned back in her chair, sipping her tea. “Do you dislike Turisan?”

“No.” Eliani shook her head as she continued to pace. “No, of course not. He is—well, he is beautiful, he is everything desirable. Of course I would like to bed him, but that is not what I meant.”

“It is not what I meant, either, Eliani.”

Eliani stopped still, feeling helpless. “Tell me what I should do.”

Heléri smiled softly. “Only your heart can tell you that.”

“I think I cannot hear my heart any longer.” Eliani came back to the hearth, sinking again into her chair. “I think I cannot trust it.”

“One consideration is this. As Turisan is not of your clan, there is a better chance your pairing will bring forth a child, and though childbearing is a blessing, it is also a risk of your life.”

Eliani sighed. “That did not happen with Kelevon, and he was a Steppegard.”

“You were quite young then, and you did not share mindspeech with Kelevon. From what I have witnessed, that, too, increases the likelihood of conception.”

Surprised, Eliani looked up at her. “I had not heard that.”

A smile softened Heléri's face. “Mindspeech is rare enough that we know little about it. I can only tell you my own experience. I have known two other couples
who shared the gift, both of whom were blessed with multiple children, as were Davharin and I.”

Eliani's eyes widened. “Do you mean that you and Davharin shared mindspeech?”

“Yes.”

“I never knew!”

“He returned to spirit centuries before you were born, child. Also, our gift is limited—much weaker than yours, I believe—so it never made its way into legend that I know of. It was quite helpful, though, in governing the realm.”

Eliani gazed at her eldermother, marveling at this news, oddly comforted that Heléri had experienced mindspeech and so must understand her feelings. How intolerably intimate it was, yet Heléri had endured it and shared a long life with Davharin, bearing three children.

“Do you miss him?”

Heléri set aside her cup, leaning back as she gazed at the fire. “I miss his body occasionally. That is so unimportant, though, when compared with the soul. We speak together every day, so in that sense I do not miss him.”

Eliani caught her breath. Heléri heard, and glanced at her, still smiling.

“That is part of the gift, Eliani. Many have doubts about the soul's continuance in spirit. I have none, for I know it to be true.”

A hundred questions leapt to mind. Eliani blundered out the first.

“Why did you not go with him? I thought mind-speakers always crossed together, or nearly so.”

Heléri's eyes closed briefly as a look almost of pain flitted across her face. “There are things I yet wish to accomplish here.”

Eliani swallowed, chagrined. “Forgive me, Elder-mother.”

Heléri shook her head and with a small laugh looked up at Eliani again. “I think the reason mind-speakers cross together is that those who first reach spirit urge their partners to follow. Apparently there is much less … heaviness … felt by those in spirit. Davharin begged me to join him at first, though he no longer does so. He respects my wishes.”

Eliani gazed in awe at her. “You can speak to the spirit realm.”

“No, I can speak to Davharin, who dwells in spirit. That is quite different.”

“But he can answer your questions, can he not?”

“When he chooses.”

Eliani felt excitement stirring in her heart. “He could tell you what it is like to be in spirit! Can he—can he tell you of the future?”

Heléri's smile widened. She reached for the ewer to pour herself more tea.

“Davharin warned me you would ask that. The future is not fixed, so he cannot predict it.”

“But—can he tell what the consequences of a certain act would be?”