Battle: The House War: Book Five (101 page)

Meralonne was still; not even the wind touched him.

“Illaraphaniel,” Celleriant continued, voice low, “I would have felt as you felt. Before I encountered the mortal I now willingly choose to serve, I would stand as you stand. But I have traveled with mortals, now. I have seen the glimmering of the ancient and wild in those travels. They have not turned from it; they have not fled.

“I have fought at the side of Kallandras of Senniel. I have fought at the side of The Terafin, as she styles herself among her kind. Are mortals frail? Yes. But against a Duke of the Hells,
this
mortal stood; she did not fall.”

“Nor did he,” was the grudging reply. “And you know why she did not; she was here, in the heart of the domain she had made her own.”

“I would not serve her now if she had not been able to hold the road in the Stone Deepings against the Wild Hunt.” Celleriant’s voice was low, intent. His sword, as Meralonne’s, had not wavered. “But she held the road. And she would have continued to hold it until Scarran had passed.

“She could not hold it indefinitely against the Winter Queen—but Illaraphaniel, neither you nor I could have held it at all. Yes, she is mortal. Yes, as mortals are, she is beset by frailty and a brief, brief span of years: but she burns, as mortals do, within that short span.

“You know that the bindings of the Covenant have been fractured. You know that the ancient is leaking, slowly, into mortal realms. You
know
what that must mean; you have lived among mortals far, far longer than I. If my Lord says she will hold this gift safe, if she says she will deliver it to where it must, after so long, be planted, I believe it.” He closed his eyes, then, and the sword vanished.

“And if the Winter Queen had chosen to trust Moorelas and his sword, your brothers would not now sleep the long sleep. You understand the folly of their choice; you did not make it, although you might have chosen as they chose.

“Was the cost and the consequence of that ancient choice greater, in the end, than the possible consequence of this one? You were the pride of the
Arianni
. Even in exile, your name is carried by the wind; the earth remembers your passage above it, and the water, your calm. Of the four, you were the
only one
to hold true to the White Lady.

“I ask you: hold true now.”

Meralonne closed his eyes. “You are so young,” he said, as he opened them and his sword vanished. His smile was one that Jewel had never seen adorn his lips before. “You have been in the company of mortals for so short a time, Celleriant. You do not understand their history.”

“Nor have I need.
Viandaran
was young when I was young, and he walks among us.” He turned to look at Kallandras, who had not moved once during this exchange. He started to speak, but stopped; no words left his mouth.

Meralonne’s smile faded. He lifted chin and looked at a point beyond Celleriant’s shoulder. “You did not see—or war against—the Cities of Man in that youth; you did not walk their streets or fly above their peaked heights.”

“No.”

The mage closed his silver, bright eyes. “I will abide, in exile, as I have chosen. When you reach the doors of the Hidden Court, give the Lady my greetings.” He turned stiffly and walked away—into the depths of the library not even The Terafin had yet explored.

* * *

In the morning, in a silence that was heavy with words that her den had no way to speak, Jewel Markess ATerafin, The Terafin, left the home which was, in all ways, her foundation, and headed toward
Avantari
to meet the Oracle.

I am worried
, Evayne had said. She let the fear seep into her words; in no other way did she emphasize them.
Jewel is not what I was. Watch her, Kallandras. Guide her where she will accept guidance. There are too many bad choices she can make, and very, very few good.

She is seer-born, Evayne.

Yes. But love is no part of that, and love clouds vision. Sometimes we turn away from the truths we don’t want to face when the alternative is too harsh.

He said nothing, then—or now. He understood the burdens love placed upon those who loved. He understood, as well, that absent an army and the generals familiar with the demands of battle, Jewel now rode to war.

It was not her own war that concerned her; he saw this clearly. She left her den to do battle in her absence. He hoped, for her sake, they were capable enough to wage, and win, that war.

The Finest in Fantasy From

MICHELLE WEST:

The House War:

The Hidden City (Book One)

City Of Night (Book Two)

House Name (Book Three)

Skirmish (Book Four)

Battle (Book Five)

War (Book Six)*

The Sun Sword:

The Broken Crown (Book One)

The Uncrowned King (Book Two)

The Shining Court (Book Three)

Sea Of Sorrows (Book Four)

The Riven Shield (Book Five)

The Sun Sword (Book Six)

The Sacred Hunt:

Hunter’s Oath (Book One)

Hunter’s Death (Book Two)

* Coming Soon From DAW