The Temple of Sacrifice Page 12

  “What cargo?” Ebus said, his eyes bright, his posture leaning toward Amanda.

  The girl sank into the sofa, the fire in her spirit dimmed. “I shouldn’t ta said anything about that. I don’t know nothing.”

  Matilde brought them tea in chipped cups, the tray rattling as she set it down. Bits of cookie covered a tarnished plate. Hayden surveyed the room, noting the shabby furnishings, the peeling paint on the walls. They’d done their best to make it homey, despite their poverty.

  “I can help you, Amanda,” Hayden offered, not quite knowing where his thoughts were leading him. Matilde sat next to Amanda and he saw the similarities in their features. “I need you to help me, in return.”

  Matilde’s eyes narrowed and she placed a protective hand on Amanda’s thigh. “What do ye have in mind?”

  “To be honest, I’m not quite sure.” He brought the tea to his lips and inhaled a familiar scent. Unease tensed his muscles. He knew the tea. Knew the merchant who sold that particular blend. “But first, I need you to tell me all you know about Adesh, the spice merchant.”

  It was dark before Hayden and Ebus left Matilde’s home. At first, she claimed to only know Adesh as a merchant, but after prodding from not just Hayden, but Ebus as well, she confessed to being in his employ. Since the illegal taxation began, Adesh had hired several crews to sail to the Summerlands to purchase his goods without the knowledge of the empress. The illegal transactions couldn’t be traced and often his ships were targets for pirate attacks, but the reward was worth it.

  Adesh was able to keep his jars stocked, as well as his brother Tabul’s in Paderau. Thus far, he’d not garnered the attention of the empress, but Hayden’s questions had brought too much unwanted attention on Adesh. The fact he went to the merchant’s tent after working would possibly bring about raids on the spice merchant, or intense scrutiny he couldn’t afford.

  Hayden and Ebus had listened patiently, hearing tales of Amanda’s skill negotiating with the Summerlands merchants on Adesh’s behalf. The major parties didn’t know who was purchasing the goods or from whom they acquired. If the ship was stopped by Lliandra’s guard, they were to dump the cargo.

  Adesh disguised the ships as pleasure vessels, even going so far as to decorate the sleeping quarters like the most fashionable houses. Hayden had to admit, the complicated scheme was brilliant.

  Before he left, he promised his assistance to the women and the spice merchant, but since he would be traveling to Celyn Eryri in a few days, there was little he could do in Talaith. Ebus agreed to stay behind and uncover what he could.

  That night, Hayden gave Sabina the tea prepared by Adesh and no nightmares disrupted her sleep. He lay awake most of the night, holding her close, imagining a life without night terrors and capricious gods.

  But that would mean a life without Taryn. His hand stilled over Sabina’s soft skin. For one perfect moment, he saw what Ohlin had seen on Taryn’s crowning day. She was more than just the Keeper of the Stars. She was the stars, the sun, the moon, the universe. She would one day become a goddess as exalted as Nadra.

  He’d always known what she would become, but how did he see the vision?

  “Are you well, my love?” Sabina rested on her elbow, watching him.

  “I am now.” Thoughts of Taryn dissipated as he gazed into the adoring eyes of the woman who’d captured his heart the first time they met. She’d been jealous of Taryn, worried that Hayden loved his cousin more than her, but that could never happen. He did love Taryn. Would always love her, but not how he loved Sabina. Madly. Deeply. Eternally. She was his equal in all things.

  He leaned forward, taking her lips with his own. She yielded to him automatically, lying against the soft mattress, but he stopped her. “Tonight, we will know what it is to truly make love. For both of us.”

  At her questioning smile, he took her hand and placed it over his growing erection.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Time in the Narthvier moved at its own pace, but when their stay lasted one Talaithian month, King Stephan held a feast in their honor, signaling an end to their visit. Before the entire court, he knelt in front of Taryn and Rhoane. He called her Darennsai and Rhoane Surtentse, promising he would give them his life, his crown, his kingdom, or his sword, if they would but ask. Should his assistance be required, he would be as a servant unto them.

  The air stilled in the great hall. Even the drossfire halted its magical flickering while the Eleri took in what King Stephan had done. Taryn herself couldn’t believe it, having come to the conclusion the Eleri would treat her with respect, but would always view her as an outsider, the gyota, or destroyer, of Verdaine’s prophecy. When Stephan rose, after kissing their wrists where days earlier Verdaine added her blessings to their bonds, a collective inhale filled the night.

  Bressal and Eoghan next gave their oaths, followed by Carga. After her, came Janeira and then to Taryn’s astonishment, all of the Eleri nobles swore fealty to her and Rhoane. The magnitude of their actions, the responsibility for their lives, settled on her with a heaviness she desperately hoped she could bear.

  The next morning, they said their goodbyes and although Kaida did not meet them at the Weirren as promised, Taryn tried not to worry. When they arrived at the final veil and Kaida had yet to appear, a physical pain cut her heart.

  Rhoane took her hand in his, giving a little squeeze. “Perhaps it is for the best. She is a wild animal, after all.”

  Taryn blinked back tears. “I know, I just—” A streak of white flashed from the trees and Kaida came bounding toward them. “Kaida! I feared you’d decided to stay.”

  Our journey has only just begun, my friend.

  “You’ve grown and look at your fur—it’s gorgeous.” Kaida was no longer the gangly puppy Taryn had brought into the vier, but muscular and sleek under her coat of thick white fur.

  Of course. I am grierbas.

  I’ve missed you, my friend. Taryn inhaled the scent of the forest on her fur and Kaida nuzzled against her in reply. Warmth filled her and spilled to the forest where small buds formed on several plants.

  Rhoane cupped one of the buds in his palm and whispered a few words. The bloom flourished into a starburst of silver, white, and crystal, the likes of which Taryn had never seen. “You created this.” Rhoane’s voice cracked with emotion as he stared at her, wonder dancing in his eyes and around the half-smile he wore. “You always surprise me, Darennsai.”

  “I really hope that is a good thing.” The flower smelled of jasmine and sea air—of home.

  Outside the vier, snow covered the ground and the air was colder than Taryn had expected. She wore a thick wool cape over several layers of clothing, but still she felt chilled. At night, if they couldn’t find an inn, they made a small camp, keeping the fire lit for warmth. Taryn snuggled close to Rhoane, and Kaida would curl around them for added comfort.

  Rhoane didn’t fold time as he had on their journey to the Narthvier, giving a feeble excuse that too much manipulation of time would offset the balance of Aelinae. As convenient as it was to pull out the “balance” card, Rhoane was deliberately delaying their arrival in Celyn Eryri. She finally quit asking him to fold time, trusting he had a good reason for keeping them wet and miserable.

  The rain lashed at Taryn, and she distracted herself with thoughts of what awaited them in Celyn Eryri. The Light Celebrations, as far as she could gather, were created as a means to offset the dreariness of Wintertide. A weeklong celebration of games, drinking, and feasting began on the eve of the shortest day of the season to celebrate the coming of longer days and, ostensibly, the Light. Taryn looked forward to the games with the excitement of a football fan going to the World Cup. From some of the names, she could guess at the competition, but others she had no idea what to expect. In a rare show of emotion, even Rhoane had a light of excitement in his eyes when she spoke of the celebrations.

  But first, they had to trudge through the miserable wind and rain. She cast one last pleading look at
Rhoane, who did his best to ignore her, and pointed to a copse of trees nestled beside a river. If he wouldn’t fold time, at least they could find a place relatively dry and the trees would provide much-needed shelter for the night.

  While Rhoane searched for dry firewood, Taryn led the horses to the river where they could graze on the soft grass while she collected water. She braced against the shock of cold and dipped the wineskin beneath the surface. Pain unlike any she’d experienced stabbed at her forehead, then suddenly a hand reached up from the freezing water, grabbing her wrist. A silent scream filled her mind, but no sound came from her lips. She sent a frantic thought to Rhoane but was met with a wall of darkness. Panicked, she pushed against the mud. Her boots slipped on the slick surface, dangerously closer to the water’s edge.

  Rykoto rose from the river, pulling her to him. His red-rimmed, fire-filled eyes searched her face as she struggled against his grip. A forked tongue licked at the blood-smeared lips before flicking at her, tasting the air between them. Taryn jerked back, losing her footing and falling, but Rykoto steadied her. He cocked his head to the left and then right, studying her.

  A sick smile was the only warning she had before he pushed her head into the river. Water flooded her mouth and filled her lungs. She choked against the onslaught, taking in even more of the dangerous liquid. Panic seized her, but she fought against it even as Rykoto shoved her head deeper still. When she called forth her power, it, too, was blocked.

  Her arms flailed out, trying to grab anything that could break his hold. From far away, she heard Kaida barking and she reached for the grierbas in her mind, meeting silence. Darkness edged her vision.

  She would pass out soon unless she freed herself from Rykoto. Her lungs constricted again and again, wanting to force out the water, but Taryn kept her mouth tightly shut. If she opened her lips, she would surely die.

  Rykoto spoke to her with a gentleness meant to soothe her fractured mind. “Come with me, my beloved.”

  He walked before her, his hand outstretched to show a land of lush greenery with trees that bore heavy fruit. The sweet scent of flowers filled the air. Birds perched on branches, singing the prettiest songs just for her. It was all for her. A promise of her own private world with everything she could ever desire. Rykoto beckoned, his long black hair shining like polished obsidian. His calm, unmarked face assured serenity. The garden of delights would be hers for all eternity. If only she took his hand.

  Her lungs convulsed, seeking air denied them. She clenched her mouth shut against the freezing water that would pull her into darkness.

  Rykoto waited, his words inviting. She reached out to take his hand. The garden was warmth and sunlight, not the cold emptiness that pinched her skin. His lips opened to speak, but when he said her name, it was Rhoane’s voice she heard. She faltered, her hand nearly touching Rykoto’s.

  Kaida barked, urging her to breathe.

  Confusion clouded her thoughts. The lush garden swayed and Rykoto grabbed for her.

  “You are mine, Eirielle. Only mine. My brother’s stain blackens your heart. I can heal you, my beloved.”

  His eyes burned fire. His blood-smeared mouth gaped at her in a twisted grin. Flames licked around her wrist. He jerked her to him, his forked tongue snaking out. She screamed, letting in the air she’d denied herself.

  “Taryn!” Rhoane rocked her against his taut muscles.

  She gasped for breath, looking wildly around her. “Where am I?”

  “You are safe,” Rhoane said, kissing her forehead. “I am here. I have you.” A slight tremor lingered in his grip.

  Kaida crept up to lay her head in Taryn’s lap and she absently stroked the grierbas’ wet fur. She shivered from the rain that slapped at them.

  Rhoane adjusted his cloak to cover her. “What happened?”

  “I was in the river. Rykoto was trying to drown me.” His marred face swirled in her mind and she swallowed hard against the bile that inched up her throat.

  “It was an illusion, Taryn. You were here the whole time.”

  Taryn stared at him, uncomprehending. “It was real. I was drowning. I couldn’t breathe.”

  Rhoane asked no more questions, holding her close until she was able to walk to their camp. Later that night, after they ate a hot meal and drank several cups of grhom, Taryn told Rhoane what had happened.

  He held her hand in his, tracing the runes with his thumb. “Rykoto is becoming stronger, but how is the question. We must find a way to block his hold on you.”

  She snuggled into him, as if he could protect her from what she said next. “I couldn’t access my power or thoughts. Only a small trickle of Dark Shanti and that wasn’t enough to do anything against him. I still had free will, but only just. His control is tied to my Dark powers, I’m sure of it. I must learn to control my Dark Shanti.”

  Since the night of Celia and Herbret’s burial, they hadn’t spoken of Taryn going to her father or Zakael, but with the heaviness of Rhoane’s sigh, she knew what he was going to say.

  “We can no longer avoid it. You will have to seek out your father.”

  Taryn pulled away, staring into his eyes. “Not Valterys.” Something about the man’s calculated coolness unnerved her. “I thought we agreed Zakael is powerful enough to teach me what I need. If there is more to learn from Valterys, I want to at least have Zakael’s strength before I have to face my father.” Her body trembled and Rhoane pulled her against him. Soothing warmth spread through her, making her sleepy all of a sudden.

  “Let us not worry about that tonight. You need rest.”

  There was more to tell him, about Kaldaar and a stain, but her thoughts were fuzzy and the enchanted garden drifted from her memory as she snuggled against Kaida with Rhoane curled along her back.

  When weak sunlight filtered through the trees the next morning, she avoided thinking about the attack. Periodically, vivid images would pop into her mind, always accompanied with a sour taste that she’d push away with all the force she could muster. Sometimes Rhoane would peer at her, worry etched across his features, but he didn’t question her. Instead, they spoke of the coming Light Celebrations games. Taryn held to memories of her friends and happier times. Too much darkness filtered through her days.

  The strain she saw in the tightness of Rhoane’s smile, or the way he constantly scanned the landscape told Taryn the attack had him far more concerned than he let on. When she thought of the compulsion she’d felt in Marissa’s rooms the night she saw her sister with the phantom, she kept it to herself. Adding to Rhoane’s burden wouldn’t do either of them any good. Until they reached Celyn Eryri and the protection of her family, they were vulnerable.

  Without her asking, Rhoane folded time, making the trees little more than a blur. Unfortunately, his trick could only make the day pass quicker. It couldn’t prevent them from suffering the ill effects of the weather and by the time they reached the town a day’s ride north of Celyn Eryri, they were soggy, sullen, and exhausted.

  Street lamps cast pale light on the cobblestones and their horses’ hooves echoed through the near-empty streets. When they reached an inn in the center of town, instead of sending Kaida out into the freezing night, Taryn told her to stay close and try to not look threatening. If a grierbas could chuckle, Taryn was certain that’s what Kaida did in response.

  Inside the common room, to Taryn’s surprise and delight, sat Duke Anje, Baehlon, Faelara, and her guard, taking their evening meal. Several of the duke’s soldiers were seated at other tables, drinking and dicing. When all the hugs and well-wishes had been given, they sat together in the corner and Taryn learned of Rhoane’s secret plan to send Carina and Timor to Paderau disguised as Taryn and Rhoane.

  Baehlon boasted that their ruse worked so well not even the palace staff knew they were not who they said they were. When Taryn expressed disbelief, Carina pulled her ShantiMari around herself and became a perfect reflection of Taryn for the merest moment before appearing as Carina once more.

&
nbsp; “That’s remarkable. I don’t know whether I would be able to tell if you were me or not,” Taryn said.

  Carina inclined her head, a faint blush touching her cheeks. “You honor me.”

  Taryn recalled the odd conversation she’d had with Hayden. This was why her mother insisted Taryn had left Talaith with Faelara and Baehlon. For once, Lliandra had made certain her daughter was safe. A tiny wave of gratitude washed over her. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

  They stayed up late into the night, the soldiers singing and carousing with one another while Taryn and her friends caught up on events. When the others were immersed in their own affairs, Taryn took Faelara aside and in hushed tones told her of the attack by the river. Faelara held her close, her ShantiMari embracing Taryn, searching for any signs of a lingering stain.

  “I’m afraid I don’t know what Rykoto meant. I sense nothing different about you. There is the vorlock venom, same as always, but otherwise you are unchanged.”

  Taryn felt anything but unchanged. With each passing day, she became someone she was not the day before. Aelinae had altered her until she hardly resembled the innocent girl who stepped through the portal.

  “After the Light Celebrations, I’m going to seek out Zakael. I must unlock my Dark Shanti.”

  Faelara’s eyes filled with tears. “Then Baehlon and I will come with you.”

  “No, my sweet friend. You can’t say anything to Baehlon just yet. He’ll bellow and bluster and make my life a bloody hell. Promise me.”

  “If you insist, but I think we should accompany you.”

  “If you do, Zakael might sense a trap. Pissing him off is the last thing I want to do.”

  “I suppose you’re right. I don’t like it, but you can’t avoid it any longer.”

  When Taryn lay in bed later that night, unease settled over her like a heavy mantle. She didn’t trust Zakael or her father, but they were the key to Rykoto’s hold on her. She was certain of it. As Rhoane lay beside her on the small bed, his arm protectively draped over her midsection, she ached for the sanctuary he sought to give her. But she drifted alone, unanchored in a shifting sea of uncertainty. Always listing to one side, about to capsize at any moment. The only constants in her life were the grasping tentacles of the Dark as they squelched their way toward her.