A dark, ephemeral shroud covered Alori's body, obscuring her vision. The sky was far away and ineffectual, a small point of hazy, narrowing light in the distance. She reached out, but it came no closer.
She was falling slowly into a twilit abyss, moving ever farther away from reality.
Maybe she was going to die, after all. Her plan had been perilous, but she'd seen no other way to deny the demon inside Thelix access to her divine power. If the demon had to kill her by its own hand in order to steal her magic, then her actions had prevented that outcome. If she died now– and maybe she was already dead– her sister Liahfey would become the Shieldmaker.
But if she managed to survive...
Her theory about Hira was sound, and she liked to think of herself as a decent judge of character, but relying on a hunch was at best lucky and at worst, foolhardy. Her life now depended on Kors' men being able to resuscitate Hira, and in turn, the mendmage agreeing to save her. Alori's allies would have to move quickly, and with expert skill, or their efforts would be useless. She would die from blood loss from her self-inflicted wound within minutes.
According to the demon, the curse sealing away her magic would break upon her death. It was semantics, really. Any curse would break when its host perished. But dying under the care of a powerful mendmage was a gray area. Mendmasters, like the ones employed by the Crown, were trained to bring people back from early death, but only if their wounds could be healed fast enough. Alori was counting on the gray area to be her salvation, now. If the young mender was as talented as the demon boasted, and if Hira agreed to help protect her future queen, the curse might be broken and Alori resuscitated.
Of course, there was another possibility. Alori might reawaken to the living world, only to discover that her Shieldmaker powers had transferred to Liahfey. As far as she knew, there was no precedent on how dead someone needed to be for a curse-- or a blessing from the goddesses, for that matter-- to consider its host inhospitable.
The demon thought it had shocked her with revelations of mediocrity hidden beneath the awesome powers she'd inherited, but it had underestimated Alori's ambivalence toward her titles. She didn't care if she came back weaker, or if Liahfey became the Shieldmaker, so long as she came back. After thirteen years of rigorous training, Alori was confident that her middle of the road natural born talent for magic would be enough to stand against one fiendish hellspawn if the need arose.
Besides, she wouldn't be alone in fighting the demon. She'd have Hira, Kors and the queensguard, Patroller Myka. And her favorite, raven-haired bard.
But, this place...
Wherever Alori was, it was peaceful. Perhaps no one would mind if she stayed a while to rest. A short reprieve after the harrowing day she'd had so far sounded nice. The quiet was calming, and her body no longer burned with pain.
"Alori."
The voice was garbled, like someone trying to speak underwater, but there was no water, only the vast, cool nothingness she was sinking weightlessly into.
"Please, come back to us..."
The voice was female. Was it one of the goddesses? Alori didn't think it was her mother's voice, but it had been so long since she'd heard her mother speak.
She closed her eyes, her emotions becoming light and spare, as if she could let them go and they'd drift away into the ether. It would be so easy, and so nice to forget.
"My name is Hira, Your Highness. Please, you must return to your body. Thelix is bound, and the demon can be exorcized. I was coerced into their scheme, and before I knew it..." The woman's voice faltered, choking on a sob or coughing. "I was trying to get your attention at the window. I– I just wanted to get away...."
A burst of pride sparked in Alori's chest. She'd been right!
Wait... what had she been right about?
Everything was becoming foggy. Her arms and legs tingled. Her thoughts twisted and tangled around one another, until they were little more than a low volume drone.
Hira. The name sounded familiar, but Alori couldn't remember where she'd heard it before.
But Thelix, that was someone she'd never forget. Her fingers curled, rage bubbling from a deep well she hadn't thought existed in this listless void. It was the only thing she could feel, a thin band of anger and hatred, stark against the emptiness surrounding her. It kept her from succumbing to the numbing pull of sleep.
"You'll help me defeat him?" she whispered into the twilight.
"Yes," Hira said with greater clarity. "We will all help you. Your fiancé is right here, holding your hand. He wants you to know that he loves you and won't let you go."
"Who?" Alori rubbed her shrouded eyes. Everything was darkness except the receding spot of fading light.
The surface was so far away, now. How could she ever reach it?
"Taelan. He's right here, by your side."
Alori was enveloped by a comforting aroma of cinnamon and fir trees. The shroud covering her body disintegrated in a cloud of smoke, and she'd swear she saw a pair of gray eyes flash in the distance, above a shy dimple on a pale face.
A soft melody caressed her bare, tepid skin, like ribbons of warm silk raising her effortlessly upward, as if the music had come to life to protect her.
Taelan. Her gentle, quiet bard. Her thoughtful composer. Of course he was there, beyond the void, waiting for her.
A sweet yearning sensation unfurled low in Alori's belly as she rose toward the surface. Unlike anger, this gentle, fathomless emotion held the power to change her fate.
Alori ascended inexorably through the abyss, as an air bubble might rise to the surface of a pond. She didn't know what awaited her on the other side– pain or victory or defeat. For some reason, she still couldn't remember the events that had led up to this moment. But it didn't matter, because with Taelan beside her– and with his music in her heart– she felt as if she could face anything.
Always. He'd said that once, hadn't he? That he'd always wanted her.
"I'm coming back," she whispered. "Tell him I'm coming back."
♪♫♪
Daylight glowed like embers behind her eyelids, bright and unforgiving. Alori attempted to bring a hand up to shield her face but someone intervened, grabbing her wrist. The pads of their fingertips grazed her delicate skin, their touch light and careful, like they worried she might break.
"Taelan?"
It felt like someone had scraped nails down her throat. She sounded like an old crone, withered and creaky.
"Shhh," he murmured, brushing hair off her forehead.
The faint scent of the outdoors touched her nose. The brim of a fuzzy cap tickled her eyelashes, blocking out the harsh light. More of Taelan? Good. She wanted as much of him as she could get.
She wanted him to know he was the reason she hadn't sunk into oblivion.
"Try not to talk. We're inside the cottage, and Hira is still healing your... wound." His voice shook with emotion that broke her heart. His tears were her fault. She'd caused this.
Alori clenched her jaw and then wished she hadn't when excruciating pain shot through her skull. She forced herself to relax, or else she'd make the mendmage's difficult job impossible. Reconnecting veins and arteries, and fusing muscle and skin, required extreme focus. Under normal circumstances Hira would have administered a draught to put her patient to sleep before attempting such a complicated procedure, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
She had slit her own throat.
The truth was hard to lie with. Moisture pricked her eyes and slipped down the sides of her face, hidden in the shadow of Taelan's hat. In the darkness, she imagined what he must have seen, and how it must have felt to stand next to her while she'd pressed Reeve's blade into her skin.
Taelan hadn't wanted anyone to hurt her, and she'd hurt herself. She would be furious if Taelan had made her endure something like that, even if he'd had a good reason. He didn't seem angry, though. He was probably still in shock.
How many more times would she hurt him before the day was over?
"Princess, you gave us a fright."
Was that Myka? Alori was starting to recognize the slight lisp in the archeress' southern accent.
"The demon is bound within Thelix." The deeper, male voice had come from somewhere behind Alori's head. Not Taelan, this was a less musical speaker. The sound of clanking metal accompanied his movements.
Paladin Kors.
"As it turns out," Myka went on with a touch of pride in her voice, "the demon is Dantalion. Hira and I figured it out after she woke up." But hadn't the white-haired patroller said Dantalion carried a short staff? "Fox was mistaken about Dantalion's focus. When I asked Hira if she'd noticed any quirks about Thelix, she mentioned that lately he'd kept a small book with him."
The black notebook? Alori had seen it a few times. She'd just assumed it contained sheet music or a journal. A lot of the bards carried around similar notebooks of various sizes.
Taelan tilted his cap so she could see the people sitting around her, while still blocking the sun.
"The book is Dantalion's power source, it must contain the spell Thelix used to summon the demon, although I haven't had any luck deciphering it. If we destroy it, we destroy Dantalion. I thought we might wait to hear your thoughts on the enemy's inevitable demise."
Alori tried to smile but like everything else, it was too painful. Myka patted her arm, acknowledging that she understood the princess' dilemma.
"The mendmage hasn't had time to fully explain her part in all this, Your Highness." Kors' words boomed like a hollow drum. Why didn't he realize there was no need to be so loud indoors? "I will hear her side of the tale as soon as she's finished with you."
If Hira was listening– and Alori would be surprised if she hadn't heard the bellowing paladin, the man spoke as loud as some mages' vocal throwing spells– her focused expression and practiced movements gave nothing away.
It was concerning that no one had mentioned how the others were doing... Yuka, Fox, and the guardsman. She tried to ask after their condition, but her lips felt stitched together.
"I'm sorry, Your Highness," Hira whispered. "You're out of the woods, but if you talk I could make a mistake that could cost you your voice. Permanently." Her faintly sweet smelling breath drifted over Alori's chin as she applied her ministrations.
Thank the goddesses the mendmage's injuries hadn't been so grave she couldn't be resuscitated.
"Try to rest, my lady. Soon this will all be over, and we'll go home." Taelan pressed his lips to the back of her ungloved hand.
Was he really so forgiving?
Alori wished she knew what made him that way. She wished he was holding her in his arms, and that they were alone so she could tell him over and over that she was sorry, and that he didn't deserve the anguish she'd caused.
If they had all the time in the world, maybe it would feel like enough.
♪♫♪
She woke up some time later, laying on a board. That's what it felt like, at any rate. But when she opened her eyes and turned onto her side, she realized that it was a bed-- a small, rough hewn thing made of skinny logs lashed together and covered in a scratchy woolen blanket.
Alori wondered how anyone could sleep on such a flat and unforgiving surface, then groaned as it occurred to her that she'd done just that despite the lack of both a mattress and pillows.
How long had she been asleep?
Daylight sparkled on the frosted window across the room, the tones a bit more saturated than she remembered. She supposed she was inside the cottage Dantalion had holed himself up in, the one with the holly wreath on the door.
"You're awake."
Alori turned her head, following the sound of Taelan's voice, and noted a surprising lack of pain at the movement. He was sitting on a stool pulled up alongside the bed, hunched over his knees. He drew her hand up to his cheek, holding it there, like she was the one giving him comfort and not the other way around.
She smiled, still foggy from sleep. "Are we in the cottage?"
"We are, Your Highness."
Alori angled her chin to see the patroller, whose bow and quiver were still slung across her back.
Myka scratched her head, pushing a thick brown curl behind her ear. "How do you feel?"
"I feel..." Alori tried sitting up. Surprisingly, there was no difficulty in the maneuver. Her neck was sore, but no more than if she'd pulled a muscle. "I feel great, actually. Where is everyone else?"
Aside from two guards posted at the door, she was alone in the cottage with Taelan and Myka. Unless there were people upstairs in the attic.
"Hira and Thelix– or Dantalion, if that's what you'd rather call him now– are with Paladin Kors and the rest of the guards, outside. They're monitoring the perimeter and threatening Dantalion's book if he should attempt to widen the tear or lure more demons."
Alori sighed. "Good. Thank you for figuring out the book is his focus. I'd never have been able to do that."
"You did more than enough." Myka's bright smile showed the gap between her teeth as she rose nimbly from the end of the bed. "I'll be outside when you're ready." She nodded to Taelan, then headed out through the front door.
The guards were a looming presence, but Alori had grown up with them following her every move and was accustomed to ignoring them. Taelan wasn't as familiar with the arrangement. He lowered her hand onto his knee. A lavender sheen stood out under his puffy, red-rimmed eyes.
"Alori, what you did..."
"I know. It was terribly selfish of me to leave you like–"
He held up a hand, his long, elegant fingers creating a wall between them.
Alori closed her mouth. Taelan had never challenged her, but she found she rather liked it. Sometimes she would need to be challenged. It would soon become part of Taelan's role as the bard prince, if he still wanted it.
"It wasn't selfish." He looked profoundly sad, as if he'd glimpsed the darkest pit of her soul and wished he could erase her pain. "I didn't understand at first, I thought you really meant to... to kill yourself. Seeing you like that, and being helpless to stop it, I've only ever experienced that feeling once before."
"With your father."
For so long she'd tried to shut away the insidious memories of that awful night in Ville-You, never speaking about what she'd seen during the massacre, never letting her thoughts wander down that dark and lonely road.
Taelan hadn't been able to do that, his loss had been too great, too personal.
"Yes," he whispered. "But I understand why you did it. Kors explained it to me through my rather unmanly blubbering." He smiled, dimple and all, but there was no happiness in his voice.
"I'm so sorry, Taelan. I knew it was risky, and I hate that you had to see it, but I didn't have a better solution." Alori lifted her hand between them, her palm toward the ceiling, studying the imperfections in the map of her skin. "I was desperate. I couldn't let Dantalion have the goddesses' power."
"I know." He watched the slow movement of her fingers.
Magic flowed through her as it always had, waiting just below the surface. Her well of power didn't feel smaller or less potent, but without testing she wouldn't know for certain. She twisted her leg over the side of the bed and pressed her foot to the floor. It only took a moment before Eala heeded her command, allowing her to draw its energy up through the ground, between the wooden floorboards, and into her body.
When she opened her eyes, a healthy orange flame danced above her hand.
She sagged in relief. "Thank the goddesses."
"Congratulations, my lady. The curse appears to be broken."
She knew Taelan wasn't being sarcastic, so why did he look so despondent? No amount of false cheer could hide the gloomy aura surrounding him like heavy gray storm clouds, like the sky might crack open and pour down on them at any moment.
"Something else is bothering you."
The better question might have been why she wasn't as morose as he was. Maybe she was still coming down from the high of surviving. She pulled him off the stool and onto the bed beside her. He was unresisting, almost oblivious to her touch, his shoulders curling inward.
"Alori, I don't– I mean..." He ran a hand through his hair, his chest heaving. "I don't want to lie to you."
"Then don't lie to me."
He stared ahead, out the open doorway into the muddy lane between the cottages. "They're afraid you won't be able to repair the shield, that you'll be too upset, if..."
"If what?" She turned his face toward her, her fingers pressed under his chin. His downcast eyes were filmy with fresh tears. "Whatever it is, you have to tell me. We can't have lies between us."
"I know, but, what if they're right? Maybe I'm just being selfish."
Alori gripped his jaw, driving her short fingernails into his skin, just enough to get his attention. "Taelan Lee, I command you, as the Crown Princess of the Ville-Realms, to tell me what's bothering you. Right now."
The look of despair on his face when their gazes met was heartbreaking. "It's Yuka. He's dying. Hira tried, but she's exhausted from everything else. It'll be hours before we can get him to another mender, or even a doctor, and he's–" He shook his head, tears blooming along the dark fringe under his eyes. "He won't make it. I thought I was going to lose you both."
The mageflame extinguished in a miniature puff of smoke. Alori's hand landed on her thigh with a muffled thwack
"Is it broken bones–? Is he bleeding internally?" Her mind raced, imagining the possible injuries their friend might have incurred from his fall.
"I'm not sure. Reeve said he has a head wound. He fell on top of Loven, the guard. Thelix said Dantalion planned it that way. He made sure Yuka's fall was fatal... to spite us."
Alori surged to her feet, pulling Taelan up from the bed with her. "Dantalion will pay for this, and he will fail. No one else is dying today, Taelan, I swear it."
"Wait, Alori–" Taelan tugged her to a standstill. "We have to think this through. I want to save Yuka too, but the shield has to come first."
"Do you trust me?"
It was a lot to ask of a man who'd watched her appear to take her own life right in front of him. In a way, it was everything, the crucible of their budding relationship, the foundation that would support their future.
Would she say yes, if she were in his place? Perhaps not.
She covered their entwined fingers with her hand, watching as a thousand unreadable thoughts passed behind his eyes.
Finally he nodded. "I do."