Betrayal's Price (In Deception's Shadow Book 1) (11 page)

Ardalwyn said
something in his native tongue and Kandarra smiled. “You’re right. We should
visit with Caltanwyn.”

They excused
themselves rather abruptly, leaving Ashayna alone with Sorntar. An awkward
silence stretched by. After a moment more, she arched an eyebrow at him.

“Yes, I know.”
He sighed. “Subtle of them.”

She looked
around the room for another distraction, but was saved the dreaded small talk
by Marsolwyn’s arrival. A lupwyn of surpassing grace and dignity stood to
Marsolwyn’s left. Ashayna’s stomach plummeted with dread. The last time she’d
seen this lupwyn, he’d been at a distance, snarling and snapping at her father.

“This is my
mate Ryanth,” Marsolwyn said. Perhaps seeing Ashayna’s look, she amended. “He’s
not going to harm you.”

Ashayna
swallowed hard, but managed to nod her head. She wasn’t really paying attention
to Marsolwyn—not with the male studying her.

“I believe my
mother wishes to see Ashayna,” Sorntar interrupted. “If you’ll forgive us, we
must go.”

Ashayna could
have hugged Sorntar. He led her across the hall, weaving a path around milling
groups of strangers. She pretended not to notice hooded looks or wary glances
as she hurried after Sorntar. When he slowed, she chanced a glance behind.
Marsolwyn had drifted away from her mate to converse with Kandarra, but King
Ryanth had been joined by Vinarah and Lylantra. “Sorntar, does Lylantra
normally spend a lot of time with King Ryanth? If so, I think that’s another
score against him.”

He glanced back
and his expression turned sour. “No, not to my knowledge. Don’t concern
yourself with Lylantra. She’ll forget about the baths soon enough.”

Ashayna wasn’t
so sure. The look Lylantra had cast her wasn’t the passionate jealousy of a
rival. When Ryanth hunched down until his muzzle was close to the phoenix’s
crest and whispered something in her ear, Ashayna’s feeling of misgiving grew.
Lylantra shook her head, and then asked something to Vinarah. Vinarah frowned,
but nodded. All three continued to stare in Ashayna’s direction. She wished
Sorntar would walk faster.

To her relief,
Sorntar quickened his pace as he neared the dais where Queen Talnarra stood to
one side of the massive stone table. It had an air of great age, somber
bearing, and something more. A slight buzz in her mind, like a strange mixture
of sound and feeling, warned Ashayna the table was more than it seemed. It was
also the first time since leaving home the magic sleeping within her had
stirred awake. Ashayna didn’t know if she should be relieved her magic seemed
at peace or worried it had her where it wanted her.

Drawing closer,
Ashayna noticed something strange about the table. For one moment it seemed a
number of softly glowing symbols marked its surface, but when she tried to
study them, they disappeared. No one else seemed to notice the table’s strange
behavior so she held her tongue, but her expression must have given her
surprise away, for Queen Talnarra leaned closer.

“What do you
see?” Talnarra asked.

Ashayna didn’t
wish to be the center of more scrutiny, but with a sigh of resignation she
answered. “Twelve glowing symbols etched into the wood, spaced equal distance
from the others. They remained long enough for me to see their number, then
faded away.”

“A rare gift.
More so than ever, I await the discovery of the nature of your power with great
interest.” The queen watched her in silence a few heartbeats more, then
rejoined the other council members around their crescent shaped table.

With a sense of
growing dread, Ashayna realized Queen Talnarra found her interesting. Now, that
was worrisome.

Sorntar filled
his mother’s place, his expression thoughtful. “I heard what mother said and
what she did not. Only the council member who holds the seat should be able to
see the symbolic representation emblazoned on the wood.”

“I’ll likely
regret this, but what does each symbol represent?”

“They
correspond with the four elements, the four directions and the four seasons.”

“I see I’ve
much to learn before I can understand how unusual I am.” Ashayna laughed.
Sorntar joined in, but his tone sounded forced.

Sorntar named
the council members for her. Some she’d already met: Queen Marsolwyn and King
Ryanth; a santhyrian stallion who resembled Shadowdancer enough to be family;
and Tav, a dour-looking phoenix with a blessedly short name.

“Those two
santhyrians are Shadowdancer’s dame and sire.” He pointed to a bay mare and
darker stallion. “Darkmoon is Stallion King and Windrunner Lead Mare. The lone
female gryphon is Varlalon. She’ll soon be joined by her great-great-grandson.”

Ashayna’s head
began to hurt. Trying to remember all their names was proving to be too much.
She’d be lucky to remember a quarter of what he’d said.

“The woman next
to mother is High Priestess Halnora. She is half human.”

At Sorntar’s
words, Ashayna took a closer look. The one named Halnora did indeed look the
most human of any at the table, although purple-black feathers crowning her
head spoke of phoenix parentage. That a phoenix and a human could beget
children opened a whole new realm of concerns for Ashayna to dwell on.

“Halnora is an
elder, much older than any other present. As High Priestess, she will be
present at our testing. Likely I’ll be assessed by her. My mother will test
you.”

“Tested?”

“A few days
after hosts show signs their Larnkins are waking, they undergo a ceremony to
see which elder will be best suited to act as mentor. I’m told it’s an
uncomfortable experience.”

“Charming.”

“She’s coming.”
Sorntar’s hand settled in the middle of Ashayna’s back, effectively holding her
in place. “Mother probably sent her, and she’ll likely wish to speak with you
about the acolytes. And other things.”

“Do I have time
to bolt for safety?”

He chuckled,
but the humor failed to reach his eyes. “No.”

“I’d settle for
just getting away from all the watchful eyes. I’m tired of being stared at.”

“The gardens
are lovely this time of evening, and Priestess Halnora prefers the outdoors.”

“Any place is
better than here.”

Sorntar lifted
his head, reveling in a warm spring evening. He hummed softly, more in time to
the wind’s captivating power than the music from his people’s celebration. His
wings twitched with each shift of the breeze, and he looked longingly at the
night sky. With a sigh, he forced his eyes back to the path ahead.

In the
distance, two shadowy figures came into his line of sight before vanishing into
a grove of trees. They soon walked out the other side. Ashayna with her pale
skin outlined by her dark hair was easier to see than Priestess Halnora.

Halnora stopped
a moment to examine something growing near the path, but soon urged Ashayna
along. Sorntar trailed behind, pretending to ponder his thoughts, when in fact
he was too nervous to leave Ashayna alone with the priestess.

While it was worrisome
that she could see the symbols covering the council table, other small things
bothered him as well. Not least of which was his Larnkin’s behavior. His power
was already vast, and what he’d felt Ashayna draw on was not a slight gift
either. Sorntar wanted to say no one had such power, but it was not true. The
Twelve Talismans and their wielders possessed such power and greater.

A shiver slid
down his wings at the upheaval required for the Twelve to be born into the
world. Neither he nor Ashayna carried the mark of those old powerful ones,
blessed or cursed by the Gods. For that he’d be forever grateful. He looked up
and was surprised to find his feet had carried him to where Ashayna waited with
Priestess Halnora.

“I’m glad you
finally decided to join us,” Halnora said. “Ashayna and I have been discussing
some of our histories, the differences in our belief systems.”

The smoky
incense-scent of Halnora’s magic assaulted his nose. He barely registered what
the priestess said. Her weaving circled him, a fluttering at the outer edges of
his awareness—a harmless spell, one used to create images in the air to
accompany a story, but another layer of it tickled at his senses, influencing
his mood, relaxing and opening his mind. He slammed his shields back in place.
Shaking himself free of the remains of the weaving, he eyed Priestess Halnora
warily.

He understood
the benefits of using power, but Halnora’s skills went far beyond what
rudimentary training he possessed. Ashayna’s guarded expression told him she
was aware. He glanced away while he fought a startling urge to mantle his wings
around her—not like she needed his protection. He imagined Ashayna’s Larnkin
equal to any task. When he had his emotions back under control, he asked, “And
what have you learned?”

“That I never
want to face your Great Mother or All Father. Nor do I wish to meet their children,
the Servants of Creation.” Ashayna looked back to Priestess Halnora. “But there
seems to have been some mix-up. Why did the Lady of Fire not create the
phoenix? For that matter, why did the Healer not create the lupwyn race, for
they heal quickly?”

Halnora
rewarded Ashayna with a genuine smile. “Individually, none of us are a threat
to the Servants of Creation. However, if we were to rise against them as a
group, it could affect the balance of creation. Since no parent should ever
have to kill their own young, the Servants arranged it so the one who commands
a particular element was not the parent of the race forged in that element. So
Anashirath, the Lord of healing, is father to the dragons—which are a blending
of reptile and Time—but Dakdamon, Lord of the Mists of Time, would deal with
any dragon uprisings.”

“There has been
an uprising or discord of some kind, hasn’t there?” Ashayna shot her question
out while the Priestess drew a breath. Sorntar cringed at her tone. By a
stronger waft of magic scenting the air, her Larnkin was reacting badly to the
priestess’s weaving. Ashayna needed close watching until she was more at ease.

Halnora nodded
her head. “There has been much discord throughout our long history. We’ll leave
your history lessons for another day. Go now and find your ease.”

The moment of
tension vanished as quickly as it had come. Later Sorntar would ask Ashayna if
there was more to it than just her Larnkin’s restless stirring. He’d received
enough of Halnora’s soul-probing inquiries to doubt the innocence of the
priestess’s simple words.

Ashayna
smoothed her skirt in an offhand way before speaking again. “I’ve seen enough
of your magic that I hope to never meet your ‘parents’.”

Halnora changed
the subject. “Did you find the story familiar in any way?”

Ashayna raised
one eyebrow. “Should it be? I haven’t been here long enough to hear any of your
stories.”

The searing
aroma of rising power invaded Sorntar’s nostrils for a third time. Tension
thickened faster than he could hope to soothe. Priestess Halnora must have
tried to read Ashayna’s power, and his little human bondmate, being equal parts
stubborn and fearful, would consider it an invasion. Which it was, but no fit
of temper would take back what the priestess learned.

He situated
himself between them. With Ashayna at his back, Sorntar faced Halnora. “Priestess,
if you will excuse us. I believe Ashayna has learned enough of our history for
one night. Too much and it will be wasted. Perhaps tomorrow will be soon enough
for her next lesson.” He phrased it calmly and politely. A feat of no little
skill, with him squeezed between two volatile women. Halnora studied him coolly
before nodding her head and walking away.

Ashayna
radiated rage and power all along his back, her magic’s cloying scent enough to
steal his breath. A Larnkin-induced argument brewed in the air between them. He
turned to face her, only to find she’d darted around his other side, heading
for Halnora. If the angry set of Ashayna’s shoulders and the soft glow of power
outlining her hands was any indication, the outcome wouldn’t be good. Sorntar
sprinted after her. Catching up, he wrapped his arms and then wings around her before
slapping a palm over her mouth. Ashayna couldn’t scream. Instead, she clawed at
his forearms and tried to land a few kicks, which tangled in her long skirt.

Her teeth
scraped at his palm.

“With my talons
plastered across your face, biting me would be a bad idea.”

She grunted
something unintelligible. He lifted his palm away to hear her out.

“If you don’t
let me go, one of my kicks will eventually render you infertile, so…”

He covered her
mouth again and started to drag her backward, toward the shelter of some small
trees. Hampered by her long skirt, she wasn’t able to land a solid kick, but
did clamp down onto the meat of his thumb. Sorntar held back a curse.

Priestess
Halnora couldn’t have missed hearing their scuffle, but she only paused once
without looking behind before continuing her unhurried exit. With the elder
gone, Sorntar pried Ashayna’s teeth from his hand then laid his mouth close to
her ear. “No matter how unruly your Larnkin makes you, never allow it to pit
you against any of our elders! Control yourself.”

“Let. Me.
Go.” Ashayna shot him a rage-filled glare.

She tried, and
failed, to tug free of his arms. If Sorntar let her go now, she’d run away and
he’d never be able to soothe the rift between them. He stroked the curve of his
talons along her forearm, begging wordlessly for her to understand.

“Please,
Ashayna, you must listen to me. Please.” He let her go. She didn’t bolt
immediately, instead crossed her arms while continuing to glower at him.

Neither spoke.
Several moments passed, then Ashayna met his gaze. Her shoulders slumped, her
tanned cheeks colored a livid red. “I don’t know why I acted so…I wouldn’t
attack an elder. I wasn’t...” she paused, then tried again. “Perhaps if she had
asked permission to…to do whatever she did, I might have taken it better, but…I
know it doesn’t excuse me for my utter rudeness and absolute lack of diplomacy.”

Ashayna looked
lost. He pitched his voice to be soothing. “I know your short temper isn’t
normal.” She shook her head, but wouldn’t look up at him, so he sought to
explain in a gentler manner. “You will find the time ahead a trying one. When Larnkins
are on the edge of waking, they enter into a dream-like state. We cannot
control our body while we sleep, nor can a Larnkin fully control its actions
during this time. There will be more tense moments in days to come. I will help
you get through them, as you will help me. As for the trigger, Priestess
Halnora sought to read the essence of your Larnkin. Its purpose for being, so
to speak.” He shrugged. “Sadly, elders don’t always worry about niceties. They
are old and powerful. Disrespect them at your peril.”

“I’ll do
better,” she said with a grimace.

“And I’ll try
to give you more warning in the future. Some elders are more personable than
others.” He offered, “You’re doing quite well.”

Her eyebrows
scrunched together in thought. “Thanks for keeping me out of trouble.” She took
several steps away, only stopping long enough for him to catch up.

Anger spent,
the tension which had been between them all day was gone. He found himself
wishing they had more time to talk, to enjoy the quiet of night, but Ashayna
was exhausted.

The night
breeze ruffled his feathers, a delightful sensation on his skin, cooling the
remains of his nervous energy. He watched clouds pass over the smaller moon’s
disc. Longing to join with the sky in an evening flight was almost
overwhelming. His wings stirred restlessly. With everything that had happened,
he had not known the freedom of flight in many days. Sorntar indulged himself
in one more glance at the inviting sky before leading Ashayna back to the
palace.