The Crown of Stones: Magic-Price (49 page)

“You’re right.” His eyes twinkled. “It’s better.”

Liel’s eagerness troubled me. “Have you ever even held a sword?”

“I’ll be fine, My Lord. Besides,” he said slyly, “if I stay by the General’s side, I won’t be anywhere near the frontline.”

“He’s got a point,” Jarryd agreed.

A chair scraped loudly across the floor as a middle-aged, Kabrinian guardsman stood up. He beckoned to Liel.

“Excuse me.” With another bow and shove of his hair, the boy walked away.

“He’s going to get himself killed,” I said.

“Aren’t we all,” Jarryd replied. He turned me aside. “Reth is in Kabri. Our scouts spotted him just a few hours ago.”

“Does Sienn know?”

“I’m sure someone told her. She’s been working pretty closely with us.”

“Sienn’s been helping you?”

“She’s been invaluable. Her magic carried word to our allies and gathered our scattered troops. Without her making doors for us—”

I put a brief hand on his arm. “Sienn made doors? For the Rellan army?

“If she hadn’t, it would have been another month before we could coordinate an attack. And we would never have gotten Neela out of Kabri for this meeting.”

“Gods, I don’t understand that woman. Fighting against Draken while protecting my father at the same time? Between Reth’s plan to free our people and Neela’s push to drive the Langorians out, it’s like Sienn bounces between these hopeless causes.”

“Thanks,” he grimaced. I started to apologize and he cut me off. “I get it. It’s like she needs something to believe in, something to fix—which could explain her attraction to you.”

“Funny,” I frowned at him. “Can you sense any part of her in me?”

“Nothing. But I don’t need magic to tell me that woman is full of twists and turns. Then again” Jarryd shrugged, “what woman isn’t?”

I looked at him doubtfully.

“What?” he laughed. “You think me a priest because I don’t go on about bubble-girls and naked maids like Malaq?” Jarryd leaned in and lowered his voice. “Guess this means you didn’t get
all
my memories.”

“Apparently not the good ones.” He laughed again. The motion put emphasis on the abrasions on his face and I nodded at them. “Why hasn’t Sienn taken care of those?”

“I told her it could wait. Her work with the army and healing you was more important.” Edging closer, Jarryd lowered his voice. “So, how is it? Seeing her?”

He wasn’t talking about Sienn anymore.

“I don’t know yet.” With the crowd, I had yet to catch more than a flash of Neela’s dark skin and hair, but even that made me nervous. “I don’t know,” I said again.

“This might help.” Jarryd lowered the barrier. Our connection reestablished and in the time it took to draw breath, we exchanged memories of the past few days. I didn’t have much to offer except for dying and waking up with Sienn on top of me. But Jarryd had been busy. After helping to rescue me in town, he’d cleaned all traces of death from Broc’s house. He’d scavenged for food and supplies, practiced with Sienn on controlling our link, met with the Rellan generals, and helped coordinate the arrival of the troops. He worked to bury the victims of the eldring attack and to burn the remains of the creatures Sienn disposed of in her quest to find me.

When Neela arrived, he was out in the yard. He helped her down from her horse.

As their hands touched, I was afraid to feel what came next, but Jarryd experienced only a deep, comfortable affection, a warm tenderness, and a great sense of relief at seeing Neela safe. He enjoyed an honest appreciation of her beauty, but none of my lust or obsession. There wasn’t a single bit of evidence that being exposed to my memories of the dream-weave had altered Jarryd in the least. “I don’t believe it,” I said in shock. “The dreams still haven’t affected you? I thought for sure, by now…”

“Your memories of Reth’s spell can’t harm me, Ian. I know unequivocally that the woman in your sleep, and the one sitting at that table over there, are not the same. The Neela that Reth gave you was near perfection.
I understand why you didn’t want to leave her. But that one,” he gestured at her, “is as real and flawed as the rest of us.”

Neela rose from her chair. She looked in our direction and I backed up. “No. Uh-uh.” I shook my head. “I can’t do this. I can’t be in the same room with her.”

Jarryd grabbed my arm. “Hold to what I’ve shown you. You’ll be fine.”

“I’m breathing the same air as the woman I’m magically compelled to desire. Just how is it that I’m supposed to be fine? How is it that you can trust I won’t walk out of here, go to Reth, and beg for her?”

“Because I know you. I know parts I wish I didn’t. But being bound together has made me absolutely certain of one thing. You, Ian Troy are no coward. You’re not weak or selfish, and you would never turn your back on what was right. Not if it meant people would suffer.” He looked past me. “Not even for her.”

Neela moved away from the table. As she drew nearer I tried to be what Jarryd expected. I tried not to be a weak, selfish, coward ready to throw everything away for a woman I didn’t even love. I didn’t want to be that damaged.

I was pretty sure I was though. As when Neela stopped in front of me, I didn’t lower my eyes or bow. I didn’t do anything to show respect. I stood and ogled Rella’s young Queen like I’d never seen a female before, while my mind picked out the discrepancies between her and my dream girl.

Little taller than the recent scars on my chest, the real Neela was as small in stature and frame as her imaginary counterpart. The shape of their faces was identical, as well as skin tone, hair, and eye color. But the curls I remembered running my fingers through were either absent, or contained by the large number of braids hanging down to the small of her back. Bound at the nape of her neck, the mid-point of her back, and again at the ends, the style was efficient for travel, but too restrictive.

I didn’t like her gown either. The material was course and drab. The square neckline was modest and the bodice ill fitting. Unadorned sleeves of a plain, white under tunic poked out from the cuffs. She wore no jewelry or trimmings of any kind, only a dull, chain girdle slung low around her hips.

The bland, unbecoming attire was undeniably an attempt to conceal Neela’s royal status. Yet, with the refined intelligence in her eyes, the majestic quality of her features, and the shrewd awareness on her face, there was no masking what Neela was. Not from anyone who cared to look. And there was no hiding anything from me. I knew exactly what lie beneath both her noble exterior and the unattractive dress.

No, I don’t,
I thought.
I don’t know this woman at all.

That became especially clear as she looked me over, openly and critically, like a slave up for purchase, tilted her head back and her chin up, and said, “Well?”

“Forgive him, my Queen,” Jarryd jumped in. “Ian is not yet himself.”

She lifted her thin brows. “If he can walk, he can bow.”

“My apologies,” I said, bending low. As I straightened, I found her still staring, but her focus was more reflective. Her lips were pursed. Exasperation and dissatisfaction shone in Neela’s eyes, and it was pure Aylagar. It was the look she’d worn at every single troop inspection, whether we were to her liking or not.

That didn’t mean I would ever confuse mother and daughter. Neela’s body was less powerful. Her hair had a thinner texture and less sheen. With a Rellan father, her skin was lighter than her mother’s, her eyes more wide and round, and her nose smaller. But Aylagar was present in the shape of Neela’s face and the set of her shoulders. They shared the same full lips, the same rounded jaw, although Neela’s was clenched far too tight for someone so young.
It should be softer,
I thought, remembering the feel of her face in my hands—the taste of her lips. The sounds she made beneath me.

I searched her eyes, but I didn’t recognize them. There was no attraction. No acknowledgment. There was zero awareness of me and barely a semblance of benevolence in her. The way Neela stared, with unabashed, frigid indifference, my insignificance in her world was painfully obvious.

It didn’t put me off in the least. To the contrary, her sustained, unbearable nearness made my mouth go dry. It made my focus lock in so completely, that the rest of the room became indistinct. I could hear her, in my head; laughing, crying, pleading. Her sobs mingled with the soft, urgent sounds of passion. Shrieks of terror intertwined with cries of release. Neela’s pain and pleasure, overlapping in my mind, meshed into one long, gasping, ricocheting echo, and I lost my breath. I couldn’t draw another.

Without her, there was no air. Only her body could sustain mine.

I reached for her.

And an abrupt wave of reason roared across the tether that tied me to Jarryd. His sound mind smacked headlong into my mania with an abrupt jolt of common sense that doused the fire in me.

Cracks formed in the delusion, and I fell back into reality.

“I do not tolerate tardiness,” the Queen said then, shrill and sharp. “I expect a full explanation. Unless, you are mute as well as disrespectful?”

“Your voice,” I said, dumbfounded. “It’s so…cold.”

“Ian,” Jarryd said. “Maybe this isn’t a good time.”

“No.” I pried my eyes from her and looked at him. “I’m alright.”

Jarryd stepped back, but he didn’t look happy about it.

The Queen looked like she didn’t know what happy was. Glaring up at me, her forehead was so tight I thought it might snap in two. Breath came out of her in quick, angry waves. It hit my bare chest, prompting a physical reaction that was far lower.

“Not only did you arrive later than anticipated,” she went on berating me, “but your recent street brawl and subsequent injury have caused an unacceptable delay.”

“I’m fine,” I said. “Thanks for asking.”

Somehow, she frowned harder. “I am not ignorant of the rigors of your trip, Shinree. I am merely attempting to convey the urgency of the situation. In the last few weeks Draken has amassed a great army on Kabri’s shores. It is imperative that we strike now, while they are all in one place. And before he can gather more.”

“How great?”

“Five thousand.”

“Damn. I hadn’t expected Draken to have so many men.”

“They are not all men.”

“Eldring,” I nodded. “Resurrecting them was a smart move.”

“Agreed. But we cannot let that cow us. From all across the realm, the sons and brothers of my soldiers have taken up arms. Doratae has sent aid from across the sea. Aldous has brought the Kaelish. Our Arullan allies have just arrived. And with every brave citizen willing to defend their home, we are a respectable number.”

“Your Grace,” I said formerly, “I believe the Arullans might be deceiving you. Or they simply have a different understanding of the word ally.”

Gliding gracefully past me to an empty chair near the hearth, Neela sat down. “I suppose politics are not a popular topic of discussion in most Kaelish taverns, so I will educate you.” Back perfectly straight, she smoothed her skirt and folded her hands primly on her lap. “The Arullan government has fractured. The dissension began shortly after my mother died, but it was unorganized. Since Draken’s return, the division has become pronounced and problematic.”

“The division seems to be centered on my head,” I said dryly.

“It is true, one faction still seeks retribution for the warriors Arulla lost by your hand. Once a year for the last ten they have sent an emissary to demand your execution.”

“Maybe the King should have complied and delivered me. That is what he did to my father, isn’t it,” I said, testing her, “dropped him on the doorstep of the enemy?”

Neela bristled. Though, like I expected, there was no confusion or shock on her face. She knew exactly who my father was. “Are you saying Jem Reth’s confinement was unjust?” she asked me.

“I’m saying it was lenient. Your father should have hung mine and been done with it. Now, because of his clemency, the job falls to me.”

Turning slightly toward Jarryd, Neela said, “I would like some tea.”

Jarryd wavered. He didn’t want to leave us alone. “Yes, my Queen.”

When he was gone, Neela said, “You and Reth spoke at length?”

“We did.”

“But you didn’t kill him.”

“I had no magic. It would have been a little hard without it.”

“Is that the only reason?”

“I do have questions for him.”

“His answers would be untruthful.”

“Probably. But I don’t exactly have anyone else to ask.”

“You could ask me,” she offered. “Or do you feel I will be untruthful as well?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t know you.” It came out more regretful than I intended.

“Well then,” she said. My tone seemed to confuse her. “I will tell you what I can. About your mother, your father, whatever it is that concerns you. But first, the threat to Rella must be contained.”

“Fair enough. There is one thing?” I waited for her nod of consent. “What you’ve put together here is impressive, Your Grace. But you’re sending a mishmash of soldiers into battle, most of which have never fought together, have dissimilar fighting skills and different tactics, against the whole of Langor and a powerful magic user. If you don’t have a solid strategy, it will be a massacre.”

“Are you implying that I am incompetent?”

“Inexperienced.”

“Then it’s a good thing you’re leading them and not me. That is, if you’ve recovered enough to lift a sword. It is considerably heavier than a mug.”

My jaw tensed. “I think I can manage.”

“Let us hope that you can. Or I will be forced to exert what little influence I have left to ensure the lives of my people. Not as Queen of Rella, but as wife to Draken of Langor. If that happens, Rella will disappear forever. Draken will look for other kingdoms to conquer. Many more will die. And you, Shinree, will indeed find your head mounted on a mast bound for Arullan waters. Do I make myself clear?”

“Perfectly. But here’s the problem.” I crossed my arms and looked the Queen squarely in the eye. “Draken has been waiting for this confrontation. Reth turned his back and let you sneak out of Kabri. They are no doubt aware of the exact number of your troops and who your allies are. And I am damn certain they know that I am standing right here, right now. They want this,” I said tightly. “Draken and my father want you to make one, last desperate play to regain your throne. They want me and you, and your allies—all their little annoyances—in one place so they can slaughter us.”