Betrayal's Price (In Deception's Shadow Book 1) (15 page)

No. I don’t
care. This isn’t real
. Anger stirred in her again,
but fear proved stronger, driving her into motion again. If she failed the
Tower’s test, so be it. She ran—other shadowy figures never more than a handful
of steps behind.

“Your hands
will be wet with blood again.”

Glancing down,
she noticed her hands looked normal enough, no blood marked them. When she
finally stopped running, she came to a landing. A large heavy door, its dark
wood the color of old blood and its hinges coated in layers of rust, blocked
her path. Rust lay in a thick coating on the otherwise stout latch. Gritty bits
crumbled off into her hand while she worked at loosening the bolt. She grunted
and bared her teeth and finally it gave with a shower of debris and a deep
grating sound. She pushed on the door. “You’re not going to have the bad form
to be as stubborn as the lock, are you?” Grumbling she slammed her shoulder
into the door. It gave slightly with a deep groan. She slammed her body against
the door again, opening a small fissure big enough to fit her fingers in
between the door and its frame. Stale air puffed out the narrow opening.
Whirling away, she spun and delivered a solid kick to the old wood. The door
grated open enough she could squeeze through.

Inside, a small
chamber, no more than a dozen paces wide, was bathed in a bluish light. Much of
its limited space was consumed by a tall, milky crystal pillar. Within the
pillar power pulsed with a firm rhythm. The sound matched the beat of her
heart. She paced the perimeter of the small eerie chamber until her pulse began
to slow and she breathed less harshly.

“I am here,
tell me your judgment. Though, if the ones on the stair are a reflection of
what you think, I am doomed.”

“Not my
thoughts. Yours.”

She snapped to
attention at the half-formed sound, ghostly, like a voice at the edge of dream.
But this one was all too horribly real.

“Shattered
one, the King will aid you, but beware the wardlen’s masters.”

“The king,
which one?”

The neutral
voice continued as if it hadn’t heard.

“Shadows
gather across the waters, darkness rests in hidden hearts. Not all that is dark
is evil, not everything Light will aid the Balance.”

“What rubbish
is that?”

The pillar
flared once, a random flash of power as if offended by her tone.

She gasped, but
the pillar continued.

“Serve
always the Divinity above your own desires. Beware the awakening.”

Another flash
of power made Ashayna’s eyes tear. She shielded them with one arm, while she
continued to squint at the pillar.

“Remember
your duty, remember your past.”

Sorntar was
suddenly before her, his countenance one of rage changing to shock. He coughed
and blood cascaded down his chin. Shuddering, the last of his rage vanished,
his expression softened. He looked at her with such gratitude she couldn’t understand
the horror of what she was seeing.

“Beloved…..” he
choked and retched more blood. There was so much blood. It coated his chest and
her hands where they were wrapped around the hilts of two daggers.

She pulled the
daggers from his chest. They fell from her frozen hands as Sorntar slumped
against her, dead.

A fissure
formed in her soul, a ragged wound not even the gods could heal.

Ashayna
screamed. Twin stabs of agony burned along her palms, freeing her from her
nightmare. She fell backward with a cry and came to rest with one shoulder
braced against the door’s frame. There was no blood. No Sorntar dying by her
hand. It wasn’t real. She began to sob uncontrollably.

The pain of a
rusty hinge digging into the soft flesh behind her shoulder blades finally brought
her back to herself. With a last sniff, she stopped weeping. With a pained
grunt, she straightened to stand on shaking legs. Everything shook, her heart,
her mind, even her insides. She continued to quiver until pain gave way to a
numbing void.

The numbness
spreading from her heart had reached those two smoldering embers. She
hesitated. For a dozen beats of her heart, she stood staring at the pale skin
on the backs of her hands. With a deep breath, she turned them over. Two
symbols were branded there. One was an intricate knot-design, in pale golden
and bronze tones, akin to King Ryanth’s brand. The other held a fading shadow,
similar to the brighter one in design, though this one made her eyes hurt to
focus upon it.

With a slow
deliberate stride—she feared if she moved faster she would fall and never get
up again—she walked to the stairwell and took the first cautious step down.
Nothing happened. No fire. She dragged her weary body back down, uncaring if
her captors waited below.

At the bottom
the door was still shut, but from behind the heavy wood surface, she could hear
angry shouting. It was silenced by a lupwyn’s short growl. By the sounds, she
judged a brief scuffle had ensued. Not waiting to hear more, she pushed the
door open.

“Don’t pick a fight
with me, young one.”

She recognized
King Ryanth’s voice. Ashayna passed through the door and saw Councilor Tav
first. Then she saw the lupwyn king holding Sorntar pinned against a wall.
Though held immobile by the lupwyn, it didn’t stop Sorntar from venting his
anger.

“You had no
right! My mother would never sanction this. You went against council. Let me
go. She could be dying! Should any harm come to her, ally or no I will…”
Sorntar stilled his accusations when he looked over the lupwyn’s shoulder. “Ashayna?”
The one word conveyed his concern.

“Please release
Sorntar.” Her throat thickened with the threat of tears she refused to allow to
fall. King Ryanth released Sorntar, but still stood in front of him, blocking Sorntar
with his greater bulk.

“Show me,” the
lupwyn said.

She shoved her
hands out, nearly under his muzzle, and waited. He studied her hands for long
moments.

Councilor Tav
leaned forward to inspect both palms, then inclined his head to the lupwyn, and
received a short nod. Tav turned back to Ashayna. “Unlace your vest and shirt.”

She’d expected
a number of questions, but that wasn’t one of them. “Not for your asking.”

Tav cleared his
throat and tilted his head in her direction. “We must see if you now show the
Mark. In the past, it has always been above the heart.”

“Perhaps if you
ordered people around less, they’d like you better.” Ashayna balanced on the
balls of her feet, waiting for one of them to make a move. She didn’t care what
happened next, or what they threatened her with. She was exhausted, bruised,
battered, and generally in a foul mood. “The answer’s still no. I think I’d
know if a brand suddenly appeared on my breast. The other burned worse than
embers straight from a fire.” Ashayna followed Tav with her eyes as he stepped
in her direction.

“Get away from
her!” Sorntar’s bellow ended in a raptor’s scream of rage. He smashed an elbow
into King Ryanth’s stomach and launched himself at Tav. Sorntar didn’t reach
his target. Ryanth leaped forward, and, grabbing Sorntar’s wings, flipped him
over onto his back. The lupwyn landed on top.

“Youngling, did
no one ever tell you to respect your elders?” The lupwyn grunted, fending off
Sorntar’s talons.

“Sorntar, stop,”
she said as she pulled at her vest’s laces, and then the linen shirt underneath.

Ryanth stood,
pulling Sorntar up with him, but he retained his grip on the phoenix. Sorntar
remained motionless, watching the others with a blazing fury until she caught
his eye.

“It’s all right,
Sorntar,” she said, and then broke his gaze to glare at the lupwyn while she
held the shirt open wider. “Now, if everything meets your approval, we’ll be
leaving.”

The lupwyn
leaned forward, flicked his gaze over the area once, and then politely nodded
his head. Tav took a step closer, raised his hand and pointed a talon at her
heart.

“If that talon
comes any closer, I’ll break it off.” Ashayna flashed a smile full of teeth.

Tav folded his
talons and bowed his head. “You have passed the test. I am sorry you had to
undergo it, yet it was necessary.”

The lupwyn king
bowed his head as well. “I hope you understand why we needed to do as we did.
If the Twelve were again to roam the land, I would prefer to be prepared for
what would ride the winds of war with them.”

Ryanth released
Sorntar. Her bondmate leaped to her side and mantled his wings around her body.

Tav and Ryanth
bowed again and left.

Sorntar stood
stiffly, wings still mantled around her. He’d turned his head to one side,
giving her some semblance of privacy.

“We need to
talk, but I don’t want to speak of it here,” Ashayna said. She tried to lace
her vest. A task made more difficult by her shaking hands and the tears
overflowing her eyes.

“Ash.” His
inner turmoil resolved, he took her in a stiff embrace.

Fighting back
sobs, she returned his awkward hug. She didn’t know where to put her arms, but
settled for tucking them under his wings where they joined to his back. The
soft feathers tickled and she fought a surprising urge to stroke them. Sorntar’s
posture relaxed, and he pulled her more firmly against his chest. His arms
tightened around her shoulders. He rubbed his cheek against the crown of her
head, and then buried his face in her hair, exhaling warm breath against her
neck. One hand dropped lower to rub the small of her back in slow gentle
circles. “Ash, you’re safe now.”

Locked in the
circle of his arms, with his wings mantled around her, she did feel safe for
the first time in a very long time. And yet, with her ear pressed to his chest,
listening to the throb of his powerful hearts, his hand stroking her back, she
also felt a strange sort of vulnerability, too. His pleasant masculine scent
surrounded her, slowly seeping into her lungs with each breath, and with it
came understanding. She felt feminine within the big phoenix’s arms.

Off balance,
her emotions in a riot, she stiffened.

Sorntar shifted
slightly, but didn’t let her go. “Come, we’ll go somewhere you can rest.” His
voice rumbled over her head, echoing with remnants of his rage, and perhaps
another emotion she wasn’t ready to examine too much. He pulled back enough to
straighten her shirt and then he began to lace her vest back together. Her
breath hitched at the strangely intimate gesture.

When everything
was in place, he tugged her back against his side.

Just this
once,
she thought.
After all that’s happened, I
can be weak this once.
With a sigh, she rested her forehead against his
chest. “I’m not going to run and hide. We should at least put in an appearance
at weapons class.” Talking into his chest was awkward, but she didn’t pull away.
She wasn’t certain she could stand on her own. “They’ll likely believe I got
lost again and you’ve been looking for me this whole time and only now found
me.”

He pushed her
to arm’s length his astute gaze sweeping over her. “I can’t believe I’m saying
this, but you look more recovered now. If you had seen yourself in a mirror…”

“Yes,
it…was…unpleasant.” She remembered the feel of her soul sundering. Her throat
closed tight.

They didn’t
speak again until they’d left the chamber and went out under the sun’s
reassuring warmth. Still, it didn’t come easy, dragging those memories up to
the forefront of her mind, having to explain what she’d seen. He listened with
great patience, never interrupting, even though she could feel his need to
question in more depth. She even warned him about Lylantra. Finally, after she
had told everything, she put her true fear into words “What do you think it all
means? Does it mean what I think it does?”

“That you
killed me in the past? Doubtful. The Tower shows both your greatest fears as
well as your weaknesses. Your greatest fear is failure, to fail in your duty.”
He mulled over his thoughts aloud. “The last great failure the Twelve suffered
is likely the worst thing you could perceive. You feared you were the Destroyer
and could fail like that again. The Tower took your innermost fear and made it
real so you would be forced to overcome it. However, it does not mean we are
those wretched two….besides, you’ve been tested twice. You’re not the
Destroyer.”

His words were
plausible, if put together in desperation on his part. So she told him about
the shadow on the other palm. He had no words of comfort for that.

“You didn’t
fail,” Sorntar said. “That’s enough. Still, I think it wise to learn more about
all this. I don’t know who on the council we can trust, including my parents. My
mother is more likely to withhold information than to share it with us, and we
might find ourselves questioned,
thoroughly
.” Sorntar fell silent as
they passed another phoenix wearing a messenger’s satchel. When she was out of
hearing range, he continued, “Put it out of your mind if you can. We can worry
later, after we’ve studied some of the ancient writings.”