The walk resumed in bitter silence. Luckily it ended quickly as they stopped before a set of heavy looking doors. Cosette rapped smartly, then turned both handles and swung the doors wide when a muffled voice inside bid them enter.
Even after days of trying to expect the unexpected, Jill found she had yet to perfect the knack. They entered a white walled, sparsely decorated sitting room. From the curtains thrown open against the bright sunlight, to the fire dying in the fireplace, to the food and refreshments placed on an elegantly carved sideboard, Jill felt as if she had interrupted someone's tea party.
She counted five men and two women from where she stood in the room's small entrance. Both women were seated, though on opposite sides of the room, one young, one old. The young woman was exquisitely beautiful from the glossy black hair that fell in a braid to the floor, to her heart-shaped face and thin, lithe body. The exotic olive tones of her skin made Jill think her Italian or Greek—impossible but it couldn't stop her from making the comparisons anyway. Jill might have been intimidated except the girl's expression seemed guardedly curious plus the fact that the girl wore blue. West Cendanese blue to be exact. This girl really was a spy then.
The other woman sat beside the fire. She looked very old with deep age lines creasing her face and her hair utterly white. She swam in the elegant red priestess robe she wore. Around her right eye was a crescent moon tattoo, faded with age. There were also numerous other tattoos on her throat that disappeared underneath her robe. The High Priestess. Jill immediately recognized her from the throne room. And at the same time, with a snap that should have been audible, she knew she had seen this woman in this scene before. Just as she had dreamed of the Forest and the black marble, of Brexten and Aden, and of the gods themselves, so had she also dreamed of this moment.
Threads swarmed around the High Priestess, active and lively. The woman was shey—no doubt a very powerful Shey'na'shen. Even with her wards, Jill felt the woman's presence lap up against her: calm, soothing, and reassuringly gentle.
She looked to the men in the room, recognizing Gunnar immediately. He lounged against the fireplace, actively not looking at her, his expression bitter. Whatever he had been about, it obviously did not go well for him. Of the other men, two were young and two older—maybe in their late fifties or mid-sixties. One of the younger men immediately captured her attention. While not physically daunting with his thin build and pale complexion, his wards fascinated her. They sealed away his magic as effectively as any wards she'd experienced, yet they were different. Or rather, he felt different from any Shey'na'shen she'd met. The wards didn't so much block as filter—like a screen on a window. She wondered if he was even Shey'na'shen at all.
From the other men, she sensed no magic. However, the second young man carried himself with a grace and elegance that left Jill wondering if—given the chance—he would glide across the room and bow low over her hand. His smile reached to his dark brown eyes and she couldn't help but note the enormous blue sapphire he wore on his right hand as he stroked his black beard. He looked a twin to the girl with the braid, and Jill wondered if they were related.
The last two men both carried heavy swords at their thighs. One stood near the bearded man. The second stood apart, his back to the wall, surveying the room. The first man wore discrete looking leather armor and shared the same darker skin coloring as young man and woman. An air of action—or nervous anticipation—surrounded him that demanded activity. As for the lone man against the wall, he was tall with a body of hard-packed muscle that had not deteriorated with age. He'd tied his long hair into a silver ponytail, but his beard remained jet black, creating an eye-catching look. Catching his murky green gaze on her, Jill realized she knew exactly who he was. His size gave it away. Mical, Rafe's father.
"You asked me to bring the woman when she was ready, my lady," Cosette said, standing a little behind Jill and bowing to the High Priestess.
"Thank you Cosette. Please, close the doors. We have many things to discuss," said the High Priestess from somewhere deep inside her robes.
Cosette pointed Jill to the room's only vacant seat before closing the doors and coming to stand silently behind the High Priestess. Jill anxiously took the chair and found herself sinking into plush fabric comfort beside the heavily warded blond man. He eyed her keenly, a ripple of kindness washing over her. Magic, she realized, stunned. He's projecting thoughts at me!
"This is her?" demanded the man in leather. "This is the one accused of spying? She's just a tiny little thing."
But the warded man still looked at her. "No, my lord Captain. You're not seeing beyond the... You were right, Lady Astera. She's the one. I can sense her, though not entirely. Her thoughts are like slippery fish, but I don't think she's entirely happy to be here."
"I believe," the High Priestess began abruptly in a voice that dared anyone to challenge her, "that perhaps introductions should be made first before anyone attempts prodding at our guest with sticks." And she smiled, drawing Jill in. "After your wild escapade of last night, the Duke hasn't said enough to satisfy our curiosity. He told us about the escape and your meeting with Rayna as well as your strengthening the compound's wards. Details are few and we are starved for more. I know this may seem incredibly overwhelming to you, but rest assured, you are welcomed here at the Temple of the Wind."
As Astera commanded, introductions were made all around. First she gestured to the warded man beside her: Etienne. He had magic, but not as the Shey'na'shen or apparently, the Shey'na'turi knew it.
"I'm Shey'na'cala. That's why I feel different from the other shey you know. Shey'na'cala sense thoughts and emotions in the environment around us. Not just of people, but also strong residual emotions that may have occurred centuries ago. Essentially, we're healers of the mind. It's not magic as the Shey'na'shen know it, but I believe it comes from the same source."
"Is it fading?" Jill asked. "Are you also losing your abilities?"
And Etienne shook his head sadly. "Yes. My skills are almost useless." He cleared his throat and look around imploringly. "Can someone else introduce themselves now? I'm going to get maudlin if I keep talking."
"With pleasure," said the bearded young man, flashing a smile. "I am Prince Kelis, heir to the West Cendanese throne." He indicated the dark-haired girl and leather clad man with a sweeping gesture. "This is my sister Princes Ishrian and Arrio, Captain of the King's Royal Guard. We came here to secure the betrothal contract between the King's heir and my sister. Now that she is of age, the betrothal was to be formalized. Instead, we've been declared outlaws of Dolmar."
Jill startled at that. "Rydorel? He's to marry your sister?" And she recalled Rayna's hand under Rydorel's tunic, playing. The memory made her shudder at its sheer vulgarity.
"I take it you don't approve of the match?" the Prince asked, arching an eyebrow.
"No, it's just—"
"It is a matter of honor that we meet and complete negotiations," Ishrian said in clipped tones. "For as long as I can remember, I've known of the betrothal between Prince Rydorel and myself. Now I am eighteen and ready to fulfill that promise. If the Prince wishes to terminate the relationship, I want to see he face when he does it. I want him to explain to me why he no longer wants an alliance with my country and chooses to make us criminals instead."
Jill looked at the Princess burning with anger and yearning for a man she had never met and came to an awful conclusion. Ishrian could not claim Rydorel. Not now. Probably not ever. He had been too long in the hands of Rayna and Tamas. There would be nothing left for her to take. And worse, Jill doubted if Rydorel even wanted to be free.
"We contracted Etienne's services in order to determine how such a breakdown could have occurred. Except... you know the story there too. Now we're at loose ends and much as I'm loathe to admit it, what's happening in Dolmar impacts us all," Prince Kelis continued. "Events are occurring that make both my father and I very anxious. Intolerance and fear run rampant throughout this country. I'm afraid it is not a good time to be West Cendanese."
"You're not affected by the ge'tan?"
Captain Arrio gave a dry, bitter laugh. "Impossible. We're West Cendanese. We'd have to believe ourselves spies gathering Dolmarian secrets, which we know we are not. And, we would need to acknowledge that the West Cendanese royal court gave sanctuary to Prince Brexten, which we know we did not."
"The West Cendanese didn't need any shey to break the ge'tan's hold on them," Etienne explained. "They're anathemas. Their known reality cancels its effects. If you know the right triggers, a ge'tan is easy to dispel. That's why memory altering spells are so tricky. The few Shey'na'turi I know rarely rely on them for prolonged periods."
"Then the ge'tan could be broken?" Jill asked.
"I think so, with the correct triggers and enough power."
"Good." Jill thought of the scene in the throne room and the rioting crowd. Replayed over that came The Nag's Head and the fight that nearly cost her life. The world Brexten could inhabit shrank rapidly every time the ge'tan snapped to life. She couldn't let that continue. However confused her feelings for him might be, she knew something had to be done about the ge'tan.
She looked expectantly to the last person in the room.
"Mical," said the big man, inclining his head and confirming her earlier guess. "One time Chief City Planner, now full time rebel leader and general mischief maker. Pleased to meet you."
She nearly whistled at the assembly. Were there no mediocre people in this world? Did none of them have simple, carefree lives, or did they all enjoy blindly throwing themselves at the nearest source of danger they could find?
High Priestess Astera turned to face her, swiveling in a well-cushioned chair and smiling kindly. Jill felt something stir inside her. Somehow, this woman knew her, understood her, had expected her...
"I, of course, am the High Priestess of Arianie and you've met my second, Cosette. And, you know the Duke of Riven already. Tell us my dear, how exactly did you manage to stumble into Tamas' arms?"
"And how was it that the Princess of all people came to your aid?" demanded the skeptical Captain Arrio.
"I told you, Callista is not and has never been a traitor!" Gunnar cried. "Not to Dolmar. Not to anyone! There is nothing to question. Callista knows what she's doing—"
"My lord Duke, this will get us nowhere!" Astera spoke in sharp tones. "I've already accepted what you told us and believe that neither you nor the Princess are traitors to Dolmar. My niece has a level, intelligent head on her shoulders despite whatever manipulation Tamas tries. I trust her more than you might realize, which is why I let the two of you run whatever gambits you felt were necessary without my interference. However, what the Princess plans is not at issue here, nor will I let what Callista has or has not done be subject to debate. Do I make myself clear?"
A muttered chorus of ascent passed throughout the room and heads were momentarily bowed with shame.
"Good." The High Priestess smiled. "Now, I would very much like to get to know our visitor and find out if the things she spoke of are true."
"What things?" Jill asked in a weak voice.
"Please, no. It was never my intention to make you nervous," Astera apologized quickly. "We have no wish to harm you nor maneuver you into decisions you are uncomfortable making. We simply want to understand who you are. You caused quite a commotion in the throne room and we would dearly like to know if what you said then still holds true now."
Jill turned to the woman and met her gaze. They were all reasonable requests. They had questions. She had answers. Maybe they even fought on the same side. And yet... "One thing I'd like to know first. If Callista and Gunnar hadn't freed me from the Inbastra, what would you have done? Would you have let Tamas execute me?"
Cosette's came out in a hiss. "You silly, impertinent—"
"Never," Mical said calmly. "You would never have been anywhere near the hangman's rope. The charges against you were obviously false, you didn't receive a trial be it fair or otherwise, and you spoke out about Brexten still being alive. Any of those things rate as a free jail pass in my books. My people were on the verge of releasing you. However, when they got there, you were already gone. The Inbastra's guards knew you were gone too. The Princess and the Duke snatched you at the beginning of shift change. When the guards brought your supper, they found my people instead. Now I have two men dead. Funny how things don't work out the way you expect them to."
Gunnar looked stricken. "We didn't know. Callista and I—"
"You couldn't have known," Mical answered in the same calm voice. "Leave it."
"Does that satisfy your curiosity?" Astera asked gently.
Jill nodded, feeling guilty and nauseous. Two more people had actually died because of her. Two more! Yet Mical behaved so calmly, so cool. Did he really feel that way? "I'm sorry. I never meant to imply that you—"
"Hush child," the High Priestess murmured. "You mustn't let yourself dwell on this. Mical is right. You could not have known. Not even the gods are infallible."
Jill glanced up sharply. Aden had once said the same thing to her, but not uttered with such a meaningful look. What did the High Priestess know that she wasn't telling?
"So, my lady," Mical began conversationally, picking up the thread Astera had dropped. "Who are you?"
She looked around the room at the anxious faces turned toward her. Hoarding secrets and withholding information came as second nature to Jill. But this was the High Priestess and she had dreamed of this woman. Because of that, she had to either trust or give up entirely. She wasn't ready to give up—yet.
"My name is Jill Logan," she began though they undoubtedly already knew that. "I'm... I'm not from this world. About two weeks ago, Kachine took me from my world and brought me to Dolmar though a portal."
Profanity and gasps from around the room. A short bark of laughter from Captain Arrio.
"You mean to tell us that you actually met with the...goddess Kachine. That you've seen a goddess in person. That she...exists?"
"I've met her twice actually."
"Kachine isn't real," Arrio lectured rationally. "She is merely a personification of such abstracts as fate and chaos. A tool or method to explain how random events are woven together in the fabric of the world. Logically, such power couldn't reside in an actual person. That doesn't make sense. All the gods are little more than humanly conceived representations of events and forces outside our control."
"If you truly believe everything you've just uttered, I would suggest you leave the Temple of the Wind, my lord Captain," Astera answered sharply. "I suspect a clashing of deductive reasoning and religious teachings have turned things for the worst in West Cendan."
"And stop by Mauti Isle on your way home. I'm sure Kachine's followers would be more than happy to enlighten you as to the goddess' existence," Cosette added.
"My lady priestesses, any rational thinking person must acknowledge that gods can't exist. It's improbable and impossible," Kelis argued. "More than just the West Cendanese believe this. Your own people in Dolmar have long since stopped worshiping—"
"Bad way to make friends here, Kelis," Mical said smoothly. "I'd opted for more listening, less talking if I were you."
"But surely, you can't just accept this without proof or—"
"The time's coming when you'll need to reexamine everything you think you know," Jill interrupted. "I know that sounds cryptic and melodramatic, but it's a reality I live with every day. In my own world, before I'd even heard of Dolmar, I had dreams of this place. And that's all I thought they were. Just dreams. But now, they're coming true. All of them.
"When Kachine sent me through the portal, I ended up in the Maze. There, I met Brexten. We escaped and watched as the Forest of Arianie literally exploded to life under our feet. The people of Pydia found us and that night, they performed Arianie's Awakening. Arianie chose me. I danced for Arianie and through me, she spoke."
"That's not—"
"I know it's not possible," Jill answered, cutting Cosette off. "I've heard that fact a dozen different times. Apparently, everyone is wrong. And now because of the Awakening, because of me, Tamas destroyed the Sahen'chi. I couldn't save Pydia. I couldn't stop Tamas from burning Arianie's sacred grove to the ground. I couldn't stop the slaughter—"
"Jill, enough!" Astera's voice came sharply. "That wasn't your fault! You are not omnipotent. Just the fact that you are here to bear witness is enough."
"My lady—"
Jill interrupted Kelis before he could say another word. "No, let me get it all out first. I need to finish. Brexten, Casir's son Perren, and I traveled to Ferice. There, we met Rafe, Aden, Damek and his brother Janos and wife Dari. Then, we went on to Shaar and to Geniece's. Nikolos waited for us when we arrived. He sensed what had happened in Pydia and knew I was involved. When he tried to steal my magic to use again Tamas, there was a fight. Brexten killed him."
"Are you serious?" Mical burst out. "Nikolos is dead?"
Jill met his eyes across the room. "Yes."
Etienne grinned. "Well this changes things! With Nikolos dead and Rayna all but incapacitated, this could significantly halt the loss of magic. With enough shey working together, I think we could reverse any damage those three inflicted."
"Sounds like we've all but won. All we need to do is topple Tamas and Rydorel and it's finished," Gunnar said.
"The Prince is my betrothed," Ishrian said stonily. "I would like the opportunity to speak with him first before you blithely go about beheading the losers."
"And it's not over so easily as you imagine," Mical said. "Tamas is dangerous. Now he'll be even more so."
Gunnar looked angry. "But still—"
"I agree with Mical," Cosette said. "Tamas will be all the more unpredictable."
"Worse than that," Jill whispered, afraid to speak the words aloud or think too hard about the thing she'd seen crawling under his flesh. "He won't just be unpredictable. He'll be a monster. You won't be able to pull the magic from him. It's too decayed. There will be no simple escape from what he's done to this world."
"Oh Jill," Astera sighed. Jill sensed a wave of sympathy. She basked in it, finding it infinitely better than wallowing in memories of the Inbastra. "Please, go on. How did you end up in Valinac? Why did Tamas abduct you and not the Prince?"
Jill met her gaze. She already knows why. Why does she want me to blurt it out to the whole world?
"Yes," Captain Arrio asked, jumping on the proverbial bandwagon. "Why were you taken and not the Prince? Wouldn't he be a more significant threat? After all, he'd already killed Nikolos at this point. I'm sorry if it offends, but the Prince has connections, not you."
"Connections aren't everything, my lord Captain," Astera answered. "Look deeper than that. Think beyond politics a moment."
Jill had to turn away from Astera's steady gaze. "It's because of something I did in Shaar," she said finally.
"And what significant act would you have accomplished?" Cosette demanded, her tone venomous. She actually leaned forward from where she stood behind Astera as if to attack.
"I...I brought life back to the Temple of the Rising Moon in Shaar. I brought Arianie back. Arianie is... She..." Jill paused, uncertain how to finish. They would think her crazy. Half the people in the room didn't even believe the gods existed, so how could she tell them Arianie dwelt within her? "I was chosen by Arianie in the only legitimate Awakening in two years. Tamas is afraid of me."
"Is that how you knew about the burning of the Forest and the destruction of Pydia?" Astera asked.
Jill nodded again, feeling sick. Is there anything that woman doesn't know?
"This is all well and good," Arrio interrupted loudly, "but it tells us nothing of what the Prince is planning. Religion is not at issue here."
"It doesn't have anything to do with religion!" Jill cried. "It's about magic. About who has it and who doesn't. It doesn't matter where Brexten is or what he does. But if he is still alive he's coming to Valinac." Why had she included the 'if'? "He's coming to the palace but beyond that, I don't know his plans. Honestly, I don't think he's certain either."
"I mean no offense, my lady, but I must know. You say you're from another world and have only been here a short while. How is it you're privy to the Prince's intentions?" Kelis asked.
Jill felt a blush rise to her cheeks, but it couldn't be help. For a single heartbeat, she remembered Brexten's hands, his lips on her. "At the Awakening, Brexten was chosen by Kydel."
No one spoke. The only sound in the room came from the crackling fire. Jill wondered what they were thinking, knew she could read their thoughts if she wished it, and had no desire to. Instead, she hurried on speaking.
"Once Brexten learns of the war Tamas plans, everything could change."
"War?" Mical erupted, alert and pushing himself off the wall. "What war?"
"Tamas wants war with West Cendan. That's why I was accused of being a West Cendanese spy." Although, hadn't Rydorel said he'd been the one to suggest claiming Brexten defected to West Cendan? Could it be Rydorel who wanted war then? She looked to Ishrian who sat with her chin resting on her draw-up knees. Had he wanted to revoke his betrothal to Ishrian and that was his way to do it? Or should I stop guessing and grasping at nothing?
Arrio swore and Kelis blanched. "I knew things were critical, but I had no idea they bordered on the insane," Kelis murmured.
"It's part of the ge'tan," Astera said slowly. "The spell has layers of intricacies. I think it's been woven to the point where it's part of our people's collective memory. Tamas, Rayna, and Nikolos were and are very powerful sorcerers. With their combined magic, they easily made us believe what they wanted. However, while mass illusion can be a potent and powerful weapon, we already know it's difficult to sustain outside a homogeneous population pool. "
"You sound like you knew of ge'tan's weakness the whole time!" Gunnar accused.
"I did, and only the strongest Shey'na'shen were immune to its effects. We were like the West Cendanese—outside its set guidelines. Aden, being Lord Shey'na'shen, forced all of us to never to speak of it. We couldn't let Tamas know we remained unaffected. It was the only advantage we had."
"But if you'd—"
"Don't be upset, my lord Duke. Obviously my niece broke its hold over you or you wouldn't be here now. What would you have done if you'd known otherwise? Would you have joined the resistance, or stayed by Callista's side and jeopardized us all simply in your proximity to Tamas?"
Gunnar simply glowered and didn't answer.
"So now Tamas plots actual war instead of just an imaginary one, does he?" Kelis questioned the air. "He must believe he can win."
"An effective ploy," Arrio said, pulling absently as his greying beard. "He'll have a unified Dolmar, and more important, will be able to wipe out opposition at home by accusing others of spying. He'll become more popular than ever and impossible to stop. And if Dolmar wins, Tamas will become a national hero."
Mical spoke up from where he stood by the fireplace. "I think war is the least of our worries. At least, it is for me right now. I have my own question I'd like answered, Jill. You say you traveled with Brexten, and with Rafe, and no doubt many others important to our resistance. If you're here, where are they?"
Because he was Rafe's father, and because she knew that Brexten trusted this man with his life, she could deny him nothing. A sob caught in her throat. She coughed, pushed on through. "I don't know. Three days ago I think, we left Mescruax and were to meet Captain Derk. He was going to smuggle us into Valinac on his ship. Except... We were overrun by aldar teres. They came from nowhere and there were so few of us and..." She saw herself caught in the battle, screaming, seeing aldar teres cut down, watching as everyone tried to defend themselves, not knowing if Brexten was safe, or Aden, Perren, Geniece... "While the others fought, I was taken through a portal by aldar teres. They took me to... Never mind. It doesn't matter where they took me or what happened."
"But if you mention it, it must be important," Ishrian protested.
"No, it isn't. Eventually, they brought me to Valinac and dumped me on the floor of the throne room at Tamas and Rayna's feet. But I don't know if they survived. I... There's no way of knowing."
Mical's face had gone white. "Please, I need to know... Was Rafe with you?"
She looked away then into the smoldering fire. "Yes."
"I've no doubt the Prince survived. My nephew has always been more resourceful than anyone gives him credit. And Mical, you know Rafe has been in worse situations before. He isn't a child running off to his first battle. He's your son, and one of the most more capable men I have ever met."
"The High Priestess is correct, my lord," Prince Kelis said. Fleetingly, he smiled, displaying straight, white teeth. "No one but Rafe has ever told me to go to hell on such a regular basis. For that alone, it's unlikely a single aldar tere managed to get within ten feet of him. No doubt, he scared them all shitless."
Mical smiled briefly, visibly forcing himself to relax. "Must have inherited that from his mother."
"Of course, my lord," the Prince said, smiling. "Of course."
"So if we...know Brexten is still alive and if the people of Dolmar see that Tamas is lying—" Mical shrugged. "I'm not saying we can erase the ge'tan entirely. I don't even know if we can. But if we can create doubt in the people's minds, that may give us something to work with. What do you think, Etienne? Would it be possible for Shey'na'cala magic to work that way?"
Etienne looked thoughtful, making a pyramid of his fingers and studying them. "The ge'tan doesn't belong to anyone magic wielder's sphere. There are elements in the spell that are Shey'na'cala, some Shey'na'shen, and some Shey'na'turi. If I can tweak one aspect and Astera another, we may be able to distort it enough so it breaks."
"Jill is both Shey'na'shen and Shey'na'cala," Gunnar spoke up. "Who knows if she might be Shey'na'turi as well. Wouldn't that help your efforts?"
The room grew quiet for long moments. Jill felt a hot blush rise to her face, mentally cursing Gunnar who seemed so determined to get back into everyone's good graces, he blurted everything he knew.
Etienne spoke first, eyes on Astera. 'That's not possible."
And Astera looked back steadily to Jill. "Who's to say what is and is not possible anymore, my dear Shey'na'cala? Certainly not me. We know Tamas, Nikolos, and Rayna have used magic in ways we've never seen possible. They are from another world, as is Jill. Perhaps the only way to defeat those from outside this world is to bring in another outsider.
"No one really knows how magic works. If we did, we could reconcile the breaks between Shey'na'shen, Shey'na'turi, and Shey'na'cala. Or perhaps, fate has taken it out of our hands and decided to correct the separation for us."
"But can it be broken?" Mical persisted.
The High Priestess shrugged in her voluminous robes. "If it stands alone, without a base of power feeding it, perhaps. If it feeds directly from the land, I'm not certain. A tremendous amount of power has to be expended to break another spell. What magic Rayna, Nikolos, and Tamas polluted so far is unusable for anyone. I don't think there exists enough pure, unblemished magic to counter it."
And there Astera looked pointedly at Jill. Oh God! She thinks I can do it!
"If that spell can't be manipulated, then what we do matters little," Mical said as he absently rubbed the knuckles of his left hand. His tone turned mocking. "Tamas has the people so enamored with him, they won't listen to anyone else. In the throne room, he openly admitted Brexten was alive, yet people still believe him a traitor. Idiots! As if Brexten would ever betray Dolmar. No doubt they'll line up in droves tomorrow to see the execution, unless it's called off now that Jill's escape. Damn, I wish I knew what that bastard's was thinking!"
Gunnar said, "The people want blood. They want to see a West Cendanese spy hang in the market square tomorrow. Tamas won't disappoint them."
Jill felt the world slip out from under her. "He would execute someone in my place?"
"That and much worse," Astera answered.
"In any case, Rayna will no longer be a problem," Gunnar said smugly. "I've already told you how Jill dealt with her. She's nothing more than a mindless, drooling idiot now."
"Yes, I felt the magic," Astera whispered solemnly. "Any Shey'na'shen still remaining would have felt the power."
Arrio smiled broadly. "Then we have a magic wielder of our own, equal to or greater than Tamas himself."
Jill blinked. "No! It wasn't like that. I never intended for that to happen to her. It was a mistake!" She rounded on Gunnar, lashing out. "And that you enjoyed it and thought it justified—I'm sick to my stomach just thinking about it. I didn't come here to be your tool and fight your war! I won't be used by you or anyone!" Whatever they wanted, she wouldn't do it. No more Tamas. Not after the Inbastra. Not when his voice... His hands... Not when he had torn her apart and left everything raw and broken and humiliated.
Before she realized it, she tore at the bandages with her teeth, undoing all Droxanne's work. Clean white bandages unraveled and fell to the floor, revealing the grotesque pus-filled wounds. "Look!" she ordered. "Look at my hands!" Ishrian made a gagging noise and looked away but the rest said nothing.
"This happened when I fought Tamas. He's stronger than I will ever be. I can't fight him. I can't and I won't. After the Inbastra... He...He nearly broke me. A little longer and I would have given him everything. Don't any of you realize I'm nothing to that? I am nothing!"
It took her several moments to realize all the unoccupied furniture in the room levitated several feet in the air and that the fire in the hearth had leapt up out of control to scorch the mantle. Jill found her wards begin to crack and falter. They were on the verge of shattering like delicate glass. Around her, threads exploded into view and boiled an angry red. Terrified, Jill looked around at the chaos. Am I doing this?
Instantly, she reined in the magic and sealed her wards. The threads disappeared. The furniture dropped to the ground in a series of solid thuds. The fire dimmed to a thin finger of flame. Dazed, Jill looked down at the floor, finding white linens pooled at her feet.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, ashamed.
It was Mical who finally said, meaningfully it seemed, "I would not say you are nothing. Let me ask a second time: who are you?"
"She is the one I dreamed of," Astera whispered.
Jill met the High Priestess' eyes. "Aden already used those words against me. Don't you use them too."
No one spoke then. It felt as if Astera had stolen all the words in the world to leave them with nothing.
"Perhaps we should continue this meeting at a later time," Astera said gently, breaking the silence. "We've been given a great deal to think about and for the moment, I believe we need to collect our thoughts."
And with that, the High Priestess dismissed them all.
YOU ARE READING
A Hand Weaving Chaos (Book 2 of The Fallen Gods Trilogy)
Fantasy***{WATTYS 2022 SHORTLISTED}*** Jill Logan is plucked from everything she's come to care about, only this time, she's fallen into the hands of Prince Brexten's most powerful enemies, and they are determined to destroy her. There is treachery and ma...
