The Stones of Resurrection Read online

  He kissed the insides of her wrists, and white heat twisted her gut. “Exactly how old are you, anyway?”

  “One hundred eighty-seven this past Harvest.”

  “Seriously? How long do the Eleri live?”

  “Several thousand seasons, if one is lucky.”

  “That’s a long time.” His betrothed was probably an Eleri princess, and they would live a long and happy life.

  “Will you postpone your plans until we reach Talaith? I know the duke enjoys your company and would be vexed if you left. Just until Talaith, and then we can send for Nadra, if you so desire.”

  She was close enough to feel his body heat, smell the scent of forest and loam that intoxicated her. “How long will that be?”

  “A fortnight or so.” He put his hand against hers, and the runes sparked to life. A tremor ran the length of her, igniting a flame that burned low and deep. A small moan slipped from her throat to her lips.

  Rhoane pulled away so suddenly she reeled back. “What’s wrong?”

  “I must go.”

  “Rhoane.” Taryn’s voice was low, needy. She reached for him but did not touch him. “I’ll wait until Talaith.”

  They stood apart for several moments, waves of heat pulsing from him to her and back.

  “Promise you will never doubt me again?” Rhoane said at last, his voice a raw whisper.

  “I promise.”

  He closed the space between them and held her face in his hands. His lips brushed against hers, tentative. Unexpected, but not unwanted. She gave in to the sensations of hot and cold that teased her nerves, making her knees give way. Rhoane pulled her against him, steadying her. His lips pressed harder, urgent in their need. She should stop him, remind him he was betrothed, but she let him kiss her.

  He tasted of crisp green apple and mint. Her hands scraped over his silk tunic to the base of his neck. When her fingertips touched his skin, searing heat pulsed through her, blocking out all thought save for Rhoane. He was ice and fire, love and death, lust and longing. His hands roamed over her back to her hair, stroking her braids before pulling them taut. His lips stayed on hers, his tongue exploring, probing, teasing until she buzzed with an impatient hunger.

  When he lifted his head, she swooned with the sudden release. “Tan rael danlith, Darennsai.”

  “What does that mean?” Through the fog in her brain, she could still feel his lips on hers.

  “It is an Eleri custom to wish one good fortune on their birthing day. Today you are thirty-five summers.”

  She was touched he remembered. For the better part of the day, she’d been trying to forget.

  “Best birthday gift ever.” She grinned, pushing aside the slice of guilt that nagged her happiness.

  “Today, you have reached your majority.”

  “My majority?” She tore her gaze away from his lips, from the slight redness and swelling she knew she’d caused.

  “For those with power, it is when their strength is fully realized. For those without, it is when they are considered adults and have no more allegiance to their parents. Although the latter is more a technicality because familial honor is strong on Aelinae.”

  His words sobered her. She had no family on Aelinae. No honor. No allegiance. A wave of sadness almost crushed her. “I wish Brandt were here.”

  Rhoane wrapped his arms protectively around her, and she resisted the urge to snuggle into him.

  “He is, Taryn. Every day he is with you; you just need to know where to look.”

  “Why did he have to leave Aelinae? Was he banished?”

  Rhoane’s chest rose and lowered with his deep inhales, his heart beating a fierce rhythm echoed by her own. The song of her sword played mournfully in her mind.

  “Banished? No. Brandt held a position of great importance to the empress. When we reach Talaith, I am sure she will explain everything to you.”

  No good would come of speculation, so Taryn pushed aside thoughts of Talaith and Brandt and the empress. It was her birthday; she didn’t want to be sad. Lifting her face to his, she asked, “Will you dance with me tonight? Margaret Tan made me this dress and Hayden taught me all those steps—it would be a shame to waste all their hard work.”

  His eyes sparkled with mischief. “I will dance with you if you let me train with you tomorrow.”

  “Deal.”

  He turned to leave but hesitated, his gaze razing the slacks and blouse she wore. “And to think you told me you do not wear gowns.”

  “I’m full of all kinds of surprises, Your Highness.” Her curtsey, reserved for the highest ranking rulers only, skimmed the ground.

  His chuckle drifted in his wake as he walked away, his footsteps crunching on the gravel. When they faded completely, she exhaled the breath she’d been holding.

  The kiss was for her birthday. It meant nothing.

  He wasn’t hers, could never be hers.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The ceiling of the grand ballroom had been painted in painstaking detail to resemble the night sky. ShantiMari stars twinkled against the midnight background, and misty nebulae of pinks and purples scattered across the cosmic space. With the enhanced lighting, it looked magical, enchanted. It took Taryn several minutes to accustom her sight to that much ShantiMari, but eventually she was able to mute the threads until they were barely noticeable.

  The gems in Taryn’s gown caught the light of every candle they passed, winking in and out, casting rainbows of color across the floor. She fidgeted beside Baehlon, who looked resplendent in a crimson doublet and hose. His mask of gold feathers rested atop his braids, which he’d adorned with golden bells for the evening.

  “Don’t be nervous,” his deep bass whispered.

  High ranking men and women from all over Aelinae came to Paderau for Hayden’s masques. It was a tradition started after the birth of the duke’s firstborn, and it continued with his only surviving child. For the partygoers, it was a chance to reconnect with friends, discuss business, and of course, to mingle with nobility.

  Every style of clothing was represented, from the loose-fitting slacks of the Ullan men, to the tight, almost suffocating, leather corsets of the warrior women known as Sitari. Their scarred faces and blue, tattooed bodies were a stark contrast to the pale Aelan women. Feathers adorned masks, some covering faces but most resting atop dramatically styled hair. Jewels of every shape and color bedecked throats, arms, ears, and wrists—even ankles for the Summerlands women. The glittering array of wealth exposed Taryn’s plainness, assured her insignificance.

  Baehlon led her through the room, nodding in greeting to several people. Curious stares followed wherever they went.

  “See? They know I’m not one of them.”

  Baehlon’s soft chuckle caressed her battered nerves. “Thank the gods you aren’t. Pompous arses, every one. If you ever become like them, I’ll take a switch to your backside.”

  “You do, and I’ll do more than toss you on your back.”

  “There it is! Keep that fire, girl, and ignore what the court thinks.”

  She straightened, pulling her shoulders taut. “I will.”

  A smile broke across his face, lessening the deep creases between his brows.

  “There it is! That’s the smile I’ve been waiting for,” she teased. “Seriously, though. Thank you for everything. The scabbard, the advice, your lessons—I truly appreciate it.”

  Two bells earlier, Baehlon and the others had surprised Taryn with gifts for her birthday. Even the young princesses, which humbled Taryn. She’d been surprised Rhoane remembered it was her birthday, but to have Faelara and Myrddin, as well as Anje and Hayden, celebrate her day, affected her. It made her decision to leave all the more difficult.

  “You best take care of that sword. Keep it in the scabbard at all times unless you’re using it.”

  “It’s not bespelled, is it?”

  He shook his head, creating a tinkling cascade of bells. “Always so suspicious.”

  “I t
hink I have reason to be, don’t you?” A low growl came from her abdomen. “Can’t we eat yet? I’m starving.”

  Heavenly smells drifted from tables set along the walls, laden with food. Sumptuous delicacies nestled next to spiced meats on one table; on another, frothy confections drizzled with honey competed for dominance with puff pastries covered in what Taryn hoped was chocolate.

  “Not until the empress arrives.”

  “Stupid rule.” Taryn grumbled at the same time trumpets played a fanfare, signaling the arrival of the empress and her daughters.

  They made their way to the center of the room and stood beside Faelara. Taryn bounced on the balls of her feet with pent-up anticipation. When the chamberlain called out Rhoane’s name, a small shiver of excitement traveled up her spine. Dressed in a silvery blue tunic with a delicate leaf motif embroidered along the edges, he looked every inch a prince with his silver coronet resting in his curls. The princesses were introduced one by one. Each wore a charming tiara that matched her lavish gown. Taryn snuck several glances at Rhoane, remembering the kiss they shared.

  Only when the empress was announced did she fully pull her attention away. Lliandra’s glorious hair cascaded over her shoulders to a dress of pale green chiffon. A large gold crown encrusted with jewels caught the light, sending sparks of color throughout the room. An etherealness surrounded the empress, as if she had stepped down from the enchanted ceiling.

  “They are magnificent, are they not?” Faelara whispered to Taryn.

  She watched the princesses take to the dance floor with their partners. “They seemed so normal yesterday, but to look at them now with their tiaras and fancy dresses…” She sighed. “I feel like I’m in a fairy tale.”

  Duke Anje escorted Lliandra to the dance floor, passing them on their way. The empress nodded to Faelara and Baehlon. Her startling, denim blue eyes took in Taryn with a glance, and then she was gone without a hint of acknowledgment. The rebuff stung for reasons Taryn didn’t quite comprehend.

  Throughout the night, her pendant sizzled and snapped at her with no clear reason. Each time Taryn would search the room, she found nothing amiss. She spent most of her time with Sabina, enjoying several desserts while her new friend gave an informal summary of the guests. After Sabina’s fourth dramatic sigh, Taryn faced the exotic beauty and asked what was troubling her.

  Sabina sulked, sniffing at the puff pastry on her plate. “All Hayden talks of is Taryn did this and Taryn said that. According to him, you are the most interesting girl he’s ever met.”

  Taryn shrugged. “Then he hasn’t met many girls, I’d think.”

  “See? You’re funny, whereas I’m not, and I’m afraid Hayden finds me boring.”

  She was a sweet enough girl, but Sabina was boring. All the princesses were. As far as Taryn could tell, their lives consisted of playing cards, embroidery, and gossip.

  “Besides, I have no ShantiMari. The empress would never grant her consent for us to wed.”

  “So? I don’t have ShantiMari, either. That shouldn’t define your worth, and if anyone lets it, then they don’t deserve you.”

  “That is very nice of you to say, but you are quite mistaken.”

  “Come with me.” With Sabina close behind, she made her way to where Hayden was talking to Rhoane.

  “You taught me all those dance steps,” she said to Hayden. “It would be a shame to waste that time and effort.”

  “Indeed it would.” Hayden held out his arm to escort her to the dance floor.

  “Not me.” She pulled Sabina up behind her. “My friend.” He looked surprised but not unhappy.

  “Princess, it would be my pleasure to have this dance with you.”

  Sabina wrapped her arm around his, and they made their way through the crowd.

  Taryn turned to Rhoane. “You did promise me a dance, if I recall correctly.”

  “That is a very nice thing you are doing.” He gestured to Hayden and Sabina.

  “Am I that obvious?”

  “Not to Hayden.”

  He placed his hand on her lower back and directed her into the dance. Her focus shifted from the warmth of his touch to the dance steps with no small amount of effort. When the song ended, she was delighted he kept his grip on her for another dance. It called for them to switch partners, and Taryn left Rhoane’s embrace grudgingly. On her second pass, Taryn spun into the arms of the one man she never thought she’d see at Paderau.

  He wore a mask, but Taryn would know Zakael anywhere. He pulled her to him with a devious grin and a glint to his steel eyes. “You dance remarkably well.”

  Taryn’s throat constricted with each beat of her racing heart, cutting off much needed air. “What are you doing here?” she managed to wheeze.

  “Dancing. I thought that was obvious.”

  Taryn tried to break free, but Zakael held her fast. “Let me go or I’ll scream.”

  “And then what?” He moved close so only she could hear. “I didn’t kill Brandt. The Shanti I threw at him was meant to stun, nothing more. His heart was old, but that’s no fault of mine.”

  Taryn struggled against the firm grip he had on her wrist.

  He pressed against her, his lips at her ear. “Gods, but I admire a girl with strength. Imagine what we could do together, Taryn.” An unholy growl came from his throat. “We would be unstoppable.”

  Taryn jerked away but not before Marissa grabbed her by the upper arm, her nails cutting Taryn’s flesh. Rhoane was suddenly beside her. Jaw tight, eyes narrowed, power circling him with controlled restraint.

  “Marissa, is there a problem?” His glance went from Taryn to the masked Zakael.

  “Of course not, Your Highness. The duke’s guest looked pale and I was concerned for her safety, but her color’s returned so all is well.” She smoothed a hand down Taryn’s arm, caressing the skin with blistered fingertips.

  “You seem to have burned yourself, Princess,” Rhoane said, reaching out to inspect Marissa’s wounds.

  She snatched her hand back. “It’s nothing but a trifle. Clumsiness on my part. I thank you for your concern.” She turned to Zakael and inclined her head. “Sir, I believe there was a remarkable young woman who wished to dance with you, if you’ll come with me?”

  They left before Rhoane or Taryn could say another word.

  “What the hell is he doing here?”

  Rhoane stared after the couple. “Who?”

  “Zakael.” Taryn almost spit the word.

  “You must be mistaken. He would not dare come here.”

  “He told me so himself. Even went so far as to tell me it was Brandt’s weak heart that killed him, not his Shanti.”

  A storm raged over Rhoane’s features in an instant and then dissipated. The swiftness of his emotions rocked Taryn nearly as much as seeing Zakael.

  Rhoane beckoned Hayden from the dance floor and ordered him to take Taryn outside and stay with her. Then he disappeared into the crowd.

  Hayden hadn’t seen Zakael or the confrontation with Marissa, so quickly was it over. Since Rhoane had given him no reason why he needed to stay with Taryn, he didn’t realize there was a threat, and Taryn wasn’t going to be the one to tell him.

  He swiped two glasses of wine from a passing servant and chatted about Sabina as he steered Taryn to the balcony. She drank the wine in one long gulp, willing her heart to slow, her breathing to normalize. Whatever she and Hayden discussed, it was lost to the blur of chaotic thoughts running through her mind.

  Rhoane returned at some point, thanked Hayden for staying with her, and then Hayden moved off. Her pulse beat in her ears, the rush of adrenaline making everything jumpy and out of focus.

  Rhoane’s hand covered hers.

  Breathe, Taryn.

  She inhaled until the warm night air tickled the back of her throat, filled her lungs. A few more deep breaths brought the calm she needed.

  She entwined her fingers in his. “Is he gone?”

  Rhoane leaned against the balcony, looki
ng up to the night sky. “It would appear so.”

  Taryn followed his gaze and blinked at the two moons she saw. “Were those always there and I missed them?”

  “They are only visible at midsummer and midwintertide. The rest of the time you can only see one moon.”

  “I wonder where the other one goes.”

  Sabina rushed up to them, panting and bouncing on her toes. “Hayden has promised to teach me to ride. I’ve never been on a horse, and I’m terrified.” She squealed and rushed back to the dance floor.

  “The princesses are very taken with you.”

  “I’m honored to call them my friends,” Taryn said simply. Zakael’s appearance had drained her, but she wouldn’t let him ruin her night. “Can we stay here for a few more minutes and then dance again?”

  Rhoane squeezed her fingertips. “Of course.”

  Taryn danced with Rhoane and the younger princesses until the two moons were low in the eastern sky. When her eyes could barely stay open, Hayden offered to escort her to her rooms. They stumbled through the halls, having drunk a little too much wine. At her door, Hayden bowed low, his palm pressed against his chest.

  “Good night, fair maiden. May your dreams be sweet and the morning light late. Or something. Retreat?” He shook his head and laughed at his dreadful attempt at poetry.

  Taryn giggled and pushed him down the hallway. “Thank you for a perfect birthday, my friend.”

  Hayden saluted her and swaggered off, disappearing in the darkness.

  She fumbled with the doorknob and then tumbled into her room, sobering the instant she saw the spectral form of her grandfather.

  He drifted close, greeting her astonished stare with an airy hug and kiss.

  “How is this possible?” She touched his cheek, feeling warmth beneath her fingertips.

  “My spirit dwells on Dal Tara. It is because of your love for me that I am able to manifest myself to this degree.”

  “But, you’re… I saw Nadra take you away.”