The Twelve Kingdoms: The Mark of the Tala (22 page)

“It’s difficult to keep shape-shifters imprisoned. There’s always a friend who’s mastered the knack of changing into a smaller shape, even outside the borders.”

“Then why go through the motions of having me ask for their release?” I found I dreaded his answer. Feared that I already knew what it would be.

He nodded, confirming my thought. “You believed Uorsin would honor the treaty you made. I needed to find out if that was the case.”

“No, you wanted me to find out for myself that he wouldn’t.”

He stared out over the water again, as if he saw something beyond it. Opened his mouth to say something, stopped. Sighed. “Yes.”

I turned that over in my mind. Rayfe didn’t wish to cause me pain—I believed that. He’d gone to great efforts to prove it. My mother’s great plan that she hadn’t bothered to clue us in on. Perhaps she’d died too soon, before we were old enough to understand. The empty place she’d left behind pained me even more now. Amplified by the loss of my father in almost as profound a way.

Though it was clear he’d never really seen me as a daughter, only as a tool. Or Salena’s triumph over him.

Which was what Rayfe had surely wanted me to see. The lines had already been drawn in the sand, before I was even born. All of this had forced me to choose between conflicting loyalties. Was I a traitor to one just because I chose another?

No.

I was still both.

Then it occurred to me that perhaps my mother had tried to tell me. The doll she’d given me waited for me in Annfwn. Perhaps it contained answers. Maybe it would show me how to open the barrier for the other Tala.

“My mother chose him for a reason.”

Rayfe glanced at me, perhaps surprised at the direction of my thoughts. I liked catching him off guard, when he wasn’t quite so . . . flinty. I wound my fingers in a lock of his hair and tugged him to me for a kiss. He hummed in pleasure. Definitely not what he’d expected from me.

“He wasn’t High King when she met him. I think she put him on the throne as part of whatever deal they made. She picked him for some other reason.”

“Which was?”

“I think I need to find out. Where to next?”

He smiled, warm and full of anticipation. “Tomorrow you get to see the heart of Annfwn.”

W
e camped by the lake that night, the Tala men celebrating their reunion and mourning those lost in battle. They broke out a dark-red wine I’d never tasted before and shared it around.

It didn’t take much of that before all the missed sleep caught up to me and swept me under. Rayfe tucked me into a roll of fur blankets and curled up at my back. For the first time in my life, I slept under the stars instead of a roof. The animal in my heart uncurled and relaxed at the freedom of it. I fell asleep wondering what kind of animal she was, what I could become.

In the morning, Rayfe asked me to leave my hair loose and I saw no reason not to indulge him. When I brushed it out, it shone from being washed in the cold lake water. The long swing of it felt right somehow as I mounted Fiona. They hadn’t brought her saddle or bridle, so I rode her bareback, as I’d often done in my more carefree youth. That felt right, too.

Thus I rode into the heart of Annfwn, on my own horse, at Rayfe’s right hand, followed by a triumphant troop of long-haired shape-shifting barbarians.

It was so much better than riding into Windroven.

How a place can feel familiar without being so, I don’t know. Perhaps I felt my mother’s memories drifting through my mind, but Annfwn unfolded before me like a cherished childhood fantasy.

From the lake, we’d ridden up another ridge, then wound our way down. Huge trees, gnarled with age and fat from the moist, gentle air, towered around us. There seemed to be no roads, only trails, winding around wind-carved rounded boulders tumbled like a giant cat had knocked them about and trotted off, soon to return. I became aware that the regular birdcalls and rustlings in the canopy represented a complicated line of defense. If I tipped my head back and observed the dense canopy above, small animal shadows flitted about.

Rayfe caught me looking and grinned, wicked and wolfish. Delight spread through me, though I couldn’t say why.

Then we broke out of the dense woods and I saw the city.

This was not Ordnung or Windroven. This was something altogether
other
.

Altogether beautiful.

A white cliff rose, startlingly high, riddled with caves and various openings. Here and there, larger arches were filled with fanciful structures carved from the same stone, with balconies and towers, some swooping out at seemingly impossible angles. Window openings were lined with jewel tones of lapis, ruby, and emerald that glittered in the sun. Stone pathways wound up and around, bordered by low walls draped with vines and flowers. Giant trees rose from the valley floor, multilevel dwellings built in and around the massive limbs. Bridges of rope and wood connected them to the cliff homes. At the base of the cliff, paths dived under and into shadowed recesses.

The air swirled around me fragrant and warm, filled with salt moisture from a turquoise sea in the distance.

“Welcome home, Andromeda,” Rayfe murmured.

“How is it all so warm?” I marveled. “How is it even here?”

“Haven’t you heard?” He grinned at me, black hair shining in the sun. “Magic.”

I had seen too much to disbelieve him. We rode through a meadow of lush grass—acid green, I noticed, and tall with it—past orchards of trees laden with fruit. The path beneath our horses’ hooves gradually changed from dirt to pink to white, lined with crushed seashells. The cliff city towered above us, level upon unimaginable level, stretching off into the distance, shimmering against the blue sky. Farther down, a white-sand beach brought the gentle sea nearly to the base of the dwellings, and I imagined what it might be like to change into a fish.

“How many Tala are there?”

Rayfe shrugged. “Difficult to say. Annfwn is quite large and they come and go. Some prefer to live above, where it’s cooler, others down below. Some as far as the northern ice. There are groups who dwell in the deep forests, keeping to the canopies.”

“Depending on their primary animal.”

“Indeed.”

“So how does a wolf come to prefer a cliff dwelling?”

“Ah, but the wolf is only one part of me. I’m also the falcon—that form came first to me, though the wolf can be more useful. And one makes sacrifices.”

“To be king.”

“To protect my people.”

“I can see why now.” I surveyed the incredible beauty and bounty of the place. No one starved here—I felt sure of it. “This is a rare jewel. I confess I can understand why Uorsin wants to lay claim to it.”

“He never saw it.” Rayfe caught my gaze with his intense blue eyes. “Salena led him away before he could. All he knows are stories he was told.”

“No wonder she missed it so,” I commented softly.

“Did she?”

“Yes. She used to sit in her window and look westward. She lived here, didn’t she—in this cliffside city?”

“I’ve asked that her rooms be prepared for you, unless that would be too painful.”

“I would like that. It’s thoughtful of you. But I—”

I stopped myself, unsure of what I’d been about to say. I wanted to be in her rooms, yes, maybe to find something of her.

But I did not want rooms that Rayfe did not also sleep in.

Last night had not been the time or place for lovemaking. I knew that. Still, it made me uneasy, thinking of taking Salena’s place here and reenacting a mirror of her marriage with a foreign man. Had she felt this passion for Uorsin at first? Only to have it crushed under the pressure of becoming someone else, forever helpmeet to fulfill some fate? It mattered not whether Rayfe and I took separate chambers. Ours would never be a marriage based on love. It would always be political first. There was nothing wrong with that. I followed in noble footsteps that way. I’d be lucky if a silly fantasy of love was all I had to sacrifice.

In ten years’ time, I might be the one gazing out my window, looking to the east and the people I’d turned my back on.

“What?” Rayfe raised dark, winged eyebrows at me.

I shook my head and looked away so he wouldn’t see the damp emotion in my eyes.

“You asked me to be honest with you, Andromeda,” Rayfe reminded me in a soft voice that nevertheless held the hint of a growl.

“I fear I’ll be uncomfortable living on a cliff face—don’t people fall off?”

He eyed me, and I knew I hadn’t fooled him for a moment, but, thankfully, he let it go.

“It goes deeper than it looks,” he explained as we rode closer, a polite tour guide, “so the young children can be kept away from the edges. And there is rarely a drop-off without some sort of barrier, if only as a reminder.”

The Tala, it seemed, were not given to overt demonstrations. No fervent or cheering crowds lined the polished stone paths. People acknowledged Rayfe in various ways, with no standard bow or salute. They glanced at me with curiosity. Some gave me more penetrating looks than others, and I wondered if they remembered Salena.

Most of the folk went about their business, airing out bedding or hanging laundry. A woman worked a pottery wheel in a small courtyard, surrounded by pale pink urns. Down one lane, a marketplace bustled under a curving cave wall, bright silks draping stalls filled with glittering items and wafting the scents of cooking food, making my stomach growl. A trio of little girls with raven-black hair dashed by, giggling and trailing ribbons. I realized these were the first female Tala I’d yet seen.

“Do your women not go to war?” I asked.

Rayfe glanced at me and raised a brow. “Tala women don’t leave Annfwn, as a rule.”

“Too busy cooking and making pots?”

He frowned and tipped his head at a group of women coming down the road carrying stacks of scrolls and arguing with enthusiastic animation. “That is one of our legal teams, so no.”

“Then why?”

“It’s too dangerous.” He held up a hand. “No—before you start—they’re not prevented. But a woman can be forcibly impregnated, and the risk of being unable to return is very high. We dare not allow Tala children to grow up outside Annfwn. For their sakes.”

“But Salena left.”

“Exactly,” Terin inserted. “And look what happened.”

“Men cast seed,” I pointed out.

Rayfe’s gaze darkened. “Men do not make full Tala children. Though they are strongly discouraged from doing so”—he raised his voice and the soldiers around us grinned—“should a Tala male bed a non-Tala female, the child will never shift.”

“You’re not concerned about those children being out in the greater world?”

He cast a sideways glance at me, his profile sharp. “We do not . . . worry about them as much.”

“Why?” I pressed. “From what you say, I carry this trait and I was just fine growing up out there. My sisters, too.”

“Were you, niece?” Terin sneered from behind us. “Are you sure?”

“What does that mean?” I twisted on Fiona’s back to see his expression. His foxy eyes simply glittered with what looked like anger.

“This is not the place to discuss such things,” Rayfe said quietly, but with the force of command.

I concentrated on the sights and sounds of Annfwn, willing to drop the subject in this very public venue. Still I flicked a look at Rayfe to let him know this conversation wasn’t over. This couldn’t be all about recovering Tala progeny, because Rayfe hadn’t tried to take Ursula and Amelia, too. But then, perhaps that’s what he meant about me carrying the mark. They might not have the shape-shifter blood. It seemed to be important for whatever more Rayfe wanted from me, and I might be one of those who just couldn’t shift, which would mean he had gambled a great deal to recover nothing.

Not just Rayfe, but Salena, too.

I also thought uneasily of the vial of blood I’d left behind, which Lady Zevondeth had been so eager to obtain. What did she plan to do with it?

We rode higher, past the market levels and into what looked like residential districts. More excitement greeted the return of the erstwhile prisoners and warriors, who were one by one swept away by mobs of family. Their horses disappeared, becoming the ratlike creatures. Or sometimes birds who flew up to the towers to sing brilliant songs. Our stalwart escort similarly bled away at various intersections, until only Terin shadowed our heels. We entered more stately neighborhoods now, high up and with spectacular inlaid mosaics and hanging gardens. It was quieter here, serene, with endless views of the turquoise sea.

“I thought it best not to make fanfare of your arrival,” Rayfe told me quietly. “Most of the fighters returned last night with the news of our marriage. Everyone knows they will meet you later, so there was no need to trumpet it about.”

“Obviously, not everyone is thrilled about it,” Terin commented.

“Also,” Rayfe continued, as if Terin hadn’t spoken, “it occurred to me that you don’t really enjoy being the center of attention. I thought a cheering crowd might annoy you more than please you.”

I gave him a grateful smile, remembering the headaches at Windroven, the horrible premonitions. I felt at peace, I realized, as unlikely as that seemed. None of those visions had come true. Perhaps none would.

“Terin,” Rayfe tossed over his shoulder, “I’m sure you would like to enjoy your own homecoming. Take yourself off, then.”

“My lord, I—”

“No, I wouldn’t think of keeping you a moment longer. Till later.”

I didn’t look back, but Terin’s displeased grumble and rapid hoofbeats signaled his departure.

“Are there truly many here who will hate my presence?” I tried to sound casual and clearly failed, because Rayfe reached out to wind his long fingers with mine.

“These have been extreme times for the Tala. People react in different ways. There will always be some who see only Uorsin the Annihilator when they look at you. Others will see only Salena. Like any place, we have our political factions, agitating for this path or that one. Over time, they will learn to know you for yourself, and you will know their agendas, too.”

“And you—what do you see?”

He kissed my fingers and released my hand. “I see my queen.” Something else lurked below the words, but I didn’t ask to know what he wasn’t saying this time. In a place so lovely, I didn’t think I could bear to hear that here, too, I was something uncanny and unnatural. No matter which world I lived in, I would always carry half of the other.

We’d stopped at a place where the lane we followed swung out in a wide arc, bordered by a low stone wall dripping with intense blue flowers. The sea spread before us from this angle, echoing the color of the tiny blossoms. On the inside, a pearly wall rose, with a massive gate of wrought iron set in, flanked by glass lanterns and more of the blue flower vine. Within, a fountain splashed in an intimate courtyard.

Servants rushed up to take Fiona when I dismounted, chattering greetings in the lyrical Tala tongue. Apprehensive, I looked to Rayfe, who was similarly handing over the stallion’s reins. “Do I need to tell them that she’s, um, a real horse?”

Rayfe threw back his head and laughed. “No. They can tell the difference. Dyson here is a ‘real’ horse, also. Besides, all the animals are truly themselves, no matter what else they can turn into.”

“I’m still learning the ropes,” I muttered.

“I know.” He slipped an easy arm around my waist and led me into the courtyard. He, too, was more relaxed in this place, I realized, that edge of tension gone, like a sharp blade now sheathed. “After you begin your lessons, you’ll be able to see, also.”

“When will that be?”

“This evening. Dusk is always the best time for a beginner. We’ll bathe, rest, I’ll show you the house, and—”

“Eat?” I inserted hopefully, my stomach still growling from the delicious marketplace scents.

“We’ll do that first.” He grinned. “I’m coming to understand that keeping you fed is the key to your heart.”

I didn’t answer that, not wanting to be argumentative. Food was important to me lately only because I hadn’t been getting regular meals. And I knew perfectly well Rayfe wasn’t interested in winning my heart. Besides, I seriously doubted the way to it was lunch.

Even the fabulous lunch that waited for us in the courtyard.

Several people gathered near a long table draped with white flowing cloths, sparkling with crystal and silver, and laden with a bounty of exotic foods that glistened in the sun. They all bowed or curtsied with grave courtesy, and I followed Rayfe’s lead in returning the gesture.