The Silent Tempest (Book 2) (37 page)

In the world beneath her branches, Kate
had many kianthi, but only one was special to her, only one bore her seed
within it, only one could talk to her, and she loved it. It was
her
kianthi.
When it eventually passed on, she was not sad, for from it was born a new tree,
and it remembered her. The She’Har knew love.

Kate opened her eyes, feeling the bed
shake beside her. Lyralliantha was curled into a ball, crying. At first she was
confused, both from the change in her body, as well as from seeing the She’Har
woman cry, but then she understood.
She was exploring my memories at the
same time.

What Lyralliantha had experienced had been
far more traumatic than what she had shared with Kate. Acting on instinct
alone, Kate moved closer, putting her arms around the other woman. She made
shushing sounds and stroked Lyralliantha’s hair, trying to soothe her.

Eventually they both became quiet and
still, and neither moved for some time.

“You deserve better, Kate,” said the
She’Har woman. “He is not a punishment for you.”

“I know,” agreed the green eyed woman,
“but it is harder to convince my heart of that.”

“You have done nothing wrong. Hating
yourself is not the real reason you followed him.”

“My head knows that, but my heart is a
mess,” admitted Kate.

“We will heal it,” said Lyralliantha.

Kate almost laughed, “How?”

“With love,” said the She’Har woman, and
then she kissed her gently.

Her eyes widened with surprise for a
moment. It was a soft kiss, lips against lips, but there was nothing demanding
or sexual about it. It lasted a brief moment, and then Lyralliantha hugged her
tightly. Even so, Kate felt her heart speed up a bit.

An insistent knocking came from the door.
Rising, Kate went to answer it. Daniel stood on the other side, looking at her
with open concern written on his face.

“What?” she asked brusquely.

“I got worried,” he said. “You two have
been in here for over an hour.”

She smoothed her hair self-consciously, realizing
it must be unkempt from lying on the bed. “We’re still talking. Go away.”

“Why are your cheeks red?” he asked.

Embarrassed, she began closing the door,
“I’ll explain later.”

When she turned back, she found
Lyralliantha sitting up, her hair smooth and her demeanor calm and
unflustered.
How does she manage that?
wondered Kate. “I still don’t
understand some things.”

“Ask and I will explain what I can,” said
the Illeniel She’Har.

“Everything was different, even the sun
was red,” said Kate.

“That was the first world,” said
Lyralliantha, as if that explained anything.

“The way Daniel explained it to me, your
people are grown from the trees, with the seed inside, but in the world you
showed me, the kianthi ate the seed, and only a few of them got it at all.
Aren’t
you
the kianthi, at least the way it works now?”

“I am a child of the She’Har,” said
Lyralliantha. “There were no children in the first world. The kianthi were
lost to us when we left, and we were forced to adapt. The elders fashioned
children in the form that best suited whatever world we came to after that, and
the seeds were placed within them. We no longer have predators, or kianthi.
We forgot how to love, and we no longer speak to any trees other than our own.
We have become cold and isolated.”

“I’m so confused,” said Kate
despairingly. “To me it seems that you fill the same role the kianthi did.”

“The kianthi loved us, they protected us,
and certain of them ate the seed and eventually became part of us. I serve a
similar purpose, but I was born with the seed. All children of the She’Har
carry it, but we have forgotten love, and we are not special. As we have
changed our life cycle, so we have changed our hearts. The seeds that were
given to the kianthi then, were similar to the loshti today, they gave
knowledge as well as providing for a new generation.”

“What is a ‘loshti’?” asked Kate.

Lyralliantha smiled, “A fruit that gives
the knowledge of the ancestors to the child who eats it. It is not a seed
anymore, like it was when the kianthi ate it. The seeds are produced
separately, within the children, like myself.”

“So what are you planning to put into
Daniel?” said Kate, asking her most dreaded question.

“Nothing,” said Lyralliantha.

“Your…,” she struggled to find a good word
to describe what the She’Har had shown her, “…story, implied that if he’s your
kianthi, he would have to become a tree someday. Right?”

“Somehow,” agreed Lyralliantha, “but I do
not think it will be from the doing of my people.”

“That makes no sense at all.”

The She’Har sighed, “I do not understand
it either, but the Illeniel Grove has a different gift than the other groves.
Our elders catch glimpses of the future. That is why they refused to take
slaves when we first came to this world, for they saw that it would eventually
lead to our destruction. They also have seen something in Tyrion.”

“What?”

Lyralliantha’s face became somber, “The
death and rebirth of all things, for your race and mine.”

Tyrion was waiting when they emerged from
the bedroom. He did his best to keep his worries hidden, but he knew that, at
the very least, Kate would be able to read him like a book. “Is everything
alright?” he asked. “I didn’t expect your conversation to last so long.”

“Your mate was full of questions,” said
Lyralliantha, “but I learned more from her than she gained from me.”

He wasn’t sure how to respond to that, but
Kate hugged him suddenly, her arms squeezing tightly around his midsection.
Her body shook slightly as she held him. “Hey now, what’s wrong?” he asked
her.

Green eyes met his and then looked away,
“It’s just a reaction to everything that’s happened. I’m relieved.”

Kate was lying, even Tyrion could tell
that. Something had upset her, but he had no way of telling what it was. The
two of them seemed to have reached an understanding of some sort, so he didn’t
think it was trouble between them. Lyralliantha stepped forward as Kate
released him, and he met her gaze, but he could see Kate still staring at him
from beyond his peripheral vision. She had forgotten he could still see her
even though his eyes weren’t on her.

Why does she keep looking at
me like someone who has just lost his dog?

Lyralliantha’s slap caught him completely
off-guard.

“What was that for?!” he protested in shock.

“That was for the way you left Kate at the
dance,” the She’Har woman informed him, a rare expression of annoyance on her
face.

Kate began to laugh from her position
behind him, but she covered her mouth quickly. Regaining her composure, she
told Lyralliantha, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“You are too kind,” said Lyralliantha,
“but I will see that you get your due.”

Tyrion looked back and forth between the
two women, rubbing his sore cheek. He was starting to think it might have been
a bad idea to let the two of them trade notes.

“You must treat your kianthi better,” said
Lyralliantha.

His eyes narrowed, “I haven’t even seen
you in months.”

Lyralliantha pointed at Kate, “Not
me—her. As you are my kianthi, she is yours.”

“Huh?” He assumed that they had discussed
his marriage to Kate, but Lyralliantha had been very clear before that marriage
and the She’Har concept of the kianthi were two separate things.

“Your seed is in her.”

“My…,” he stopped, his mind had gone
blank.

“I’m pregnant, Daniel,” Kate said, to
clarify what was slowly becoming obvious to him.

His magesight focused on her womb,
exploring within her. It was something he should have thought to do sooner,
considering their activities over the past month. It took only a moment to
spot the new life growing there. “Oh!” he said abruptly, “There’s a—you’re…”

“You seem surprised,” Kate noted in a
neutral tone.

“I just—you never had any after Aaron, so
I thought…,” he stopped. His words weren’t coming out well, and the subject of
her fertility was probably a sensitive one.

“You thought I was barren?” she said,
finishing the sentence for him.

“Well…”

“Things grew cold between Seth and me
after Aaron was born,” she explained.

Tyrion’s eyes wandered, traveling over the
walls around them, as if he was searching for a route for escape. Kate
frowned. She had been afraid of what his reaction might be.

“If I knock that wall out, we can expand
the house in the rear,” he said at last, giving voice to his thoughts. “We’ll
need room for a nursery. Actually I’ve been thinking of rebuilding some of
this anyway, to add another floor above. So this is pretty good timing.”

Kate blinked, her eyes had begun to water
suddenly.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, mildly alarmed.

Lyralliantha took the opportunity to slap
him once more, choosing his other cheek this time.

“What is wrong with you!?” he said,
surprised. “Do I need to start shielding myself?”

The She’Har’s face was serious. “That was
for leaving her after you killed the warden,” she informed him. “And for making
her cry just now.”

Kate laughed.

“Do you even know what made her cry?” he
asked.

Now it was Lyralliantha’s turn to frown,
“No, but I am sure she had good cause. I trust her judgement.”

Kate put a hand on Lyralliantha’s arm,
“It’s alright Lyra, those were happy tears.”

“How many more of those can I expect?”
asked Tyrion.

“I am making a list,” answered
Lyralliantha. “I will inform you when I finish considering all the events from
her memories.”

Something about her face seemed off to
Tyrion. “Are you—trying to make a joke?”

Her blue eyes gave away nothing, but he
thought he detected a sigh. “My attempts at humor are still largely
unsuccessful,” she replied honestly.

Unable to maintain his annoyance he lifted
Lyralliantha’s chin with one hand and kissed her quickly. It was an almost
unconscious gesture, but he found himself suddenly self-conscious as he
considered Kate’s feelings.

She put him at ease by following his
example and giving Lyralliantha a quick kiss on the cheek followed by a brief
hug. Her gaze turned to him then, “Don’t worry. I’m not as fragile as that.”

Lyralliantha watched their exchange before
interjecting, “Perhaps I am jealous after all.”

“Why?” asked Kate.

“When the two of you speak I find myself
wondering at your meanings. Frequently you answer questions that have not even
been asked. It feels as though you both speak a language that I cannot
understand, or even hear,” responded the She’Har. She hesitated a moment and
then added, “I am also irritated that two other women carry your child while I
must w…” Her words stopped abruptly.

Kate’s eyes flashed a warning at her, but
Tyrion hadn’t noticed the unfinished ending. His mind had seized up at ‘two
other women’.

“Wait, what did you mean by…,” he began,
but then he realized what she must mean. Layla was in the yard working with
the teens. There was only one possible conclusion, although she was moving too
much for him to resolve the inner workings of her body at that distance.
“Layla?”

Lyralliantha slapped him once again, but
it was milder this time, almost playful.

He looked at her ruefully. “Was that for
Kate too?”

“That was for me,” replied his former
owner. “Kate I understand, but Layla was unnecessary.”

“That’s fine,” said Kate. “You can count
that one for both of us.”

***

The next morning Tyrion was tired and
grumpy. He hadn’t slept well. He normally sprawled in his bed, but with women
on either side of him, he had felt distinctly confined. Worse he had found
himself constantly entertaining fantasies, thoughts that had ruined his ability
to rest. He hadn’t acted on any of them, since he really had no clue what sort
of etiquette he should follow.

Kate summed it up for him.

“Sleepy?” she asked with an evil grin.

He glared at her, “Leave me alone.”

“I couldn’t help but notice your
restlessness last night,” she continued, her eyes drifting downward, dispelling
any doubt about her meaning.

“I need to go talk to Emma this morning,”
he responded, mildly disgusted with her amusement.

Kate caught him by the arm. It was
something he was unused to after his years among the She’Har. He suppressed an
almost involuntary anger.

“About last night, I thought we should go
over the rules,” she said, releasing his arm as she noticed the look in his
eyes.

“Sorry,” he said quickly. “Living here
has made me strange. I’m not used to some things that were normal back in
Colne. Rules about what?”

“About what kept you from sleeping last
night.”

“Oh,” he said, understanding suddenly.

“Lyra and I will decide, when and who,”
she said without preamble. “This is something new for all of us. Since there
are two of us and only one of you, that’s the best compromise we could think
of.”

“Shouldn’t I get a say in this?”

“No.”

“I thought maybe...,” Tyrion found himself
unable to conclude his sentence.

“Maybe what?”

“Well, since you like girls too…”

Kate began to growl under her breath,
“Just because I like
you
in that regard, doesn’t necessarily mean I want
to jump into that sort of thing with someone else, of
either
gender.
Understand?”

Tyrion frowned.

She let out a frustrated sigh, “Look,
suppose you decided you had a thing for Byovar…”

“I don’t like men,” he snapped
immediately.

“I do,” she responded. “Shut up, this is
an example. Suppose you liked men, and suppose you wanted to bring Byovar back
for a romp, would you expect me to join you for that?”

His cheeks flushed with sudden jealousy at
the thought, “No.”

“Then don’t expect me to do the same with
her just because I happen to have a broader past experience than you do. If
something like that occurs in the future, it will be on my terms, not
yours
.”

A short while later he made a diplomatic
exit. Reflecting on what Kate had said, he saw the merit in her words, but he
still couldn’t shake the feeling that he had been thoroughly trounced. He
wasn’t used to losing arguments, but then, over the past fifteen years most of
his ‘disagreements’ had been solved using violence. That was no longer an
option.
I’ve traded one owner for two,
he thought wryly.

Remembering his purpose, he sought out
Emma. She and Ryan had been returned late the previous evening. Both of them
bore new scars, but otherwise they seemed largely recovered.

After a brief search with his mind, he
found her in her room, seated at a small table. A short walk took him to her
door, and she answered it before he could knock. Magesight worked both ways
after all.

“Father,” she said by way of greeting.

“Mind if I come in?” he asked.

She stood back, indicating he should sit
on the bed since she had only one chair. “Asking to enter a room now—you
should be careful or we might forget who is in charge,” she commented.

He glared at her, irritated by the mockery
in her tone, but the smile in her eyes was genuine. Taking a deep breath, he
forced himself to relax. “It’s a new world for us,” he explained. “I still
expect obedience when I require it, but otherwise I think we should strive for
a more civilized atmosphere.” Studying the room he added, “I see you have a
table. Most of the others are lucky to have a bed in their rooms.”

Emma nodded, “Anthony made it for me while
I was in the care of the She’Har healers. It’s a bit rough, but I like it.”

“What’s that?” he asked, gesturing toward
the parchment on the tabletop.

“A letter to my parents. Would you like
to read it?”

He shook his head, “No, I came to ask you
about something else.”

She sat in the small chair beside the
table, “I am at your disposal, Father.”

“In your arena battle the other day, you
did something that surprised me,” he began. “The liquid you produced, what was
it?”

Emma sighed. “My father was a soap-maker,
as you know, so I grew up around caustic substances,” she said, beginning to
dissemble.

His temper flared, “Don’t lie to me,
Emma. What you did
is
possible, for a mage who understands the inner
workings of the material world, but neither of us has that much knowledge. No,
you did something different. I didn’t feel your aythar at work, and neither
did your opponents.”

Her shoulders drooped, “You may think me
mad.”

“I’m already a few cards shy of a full
deck myself, Emma, just tell me.”

“Sometimes I hear things, like voices. I
ignored it at first, but then things started happening…”

“Do you hear the great heart beneath us?”
he asked, grinning.

“Like a giant drum,” she said nodding. “I
don’t hear it all the time, but when I turn my attention to it, it’s always
there.”

“And the sky?”

“I try not to,” answered Emma, closing her
eyes. “The voice of the wind makes me feel like I’m losing my mind.”

“How about this?” he said intently,
leaning forward to tap the table in front of her.

Her expression was questioning, “It’s so
small. I haven’t thought to… oh. It does have a voice, doesn’t it?”

“A small one,” he said. “Everything does,
so far as I know. Some of them are harder to hear than others.”

“Then I’m not crazy,” she said with an
audible sound of relief.

“Just be careful not to show this ability
in front of the She’Har,” he cautioned her. “They don’t understand it. It may
be something new to them, and the unknown always inspires fear.”