Second Stone (19 page)

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Authors: Kelly Walker

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BOOK: Second Stone
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Jessa shook her head. “No. I was terrified he might, and I was about to panic when Master Blaine found me. The soldier next to me lost his mount during one of the larger bursts of thunder, so he offered to let me ride with him, and the soldier’s on my horse.”

Blaine hadn’t said a word while Jessa related the encounter.

Meeting his eyes, Emariya nodded. “Thank you.” She forced herself to smile at him. As grateful as she was to find Jessa safe, she didn’t like the thought of it being Blaine who had rescued her. Jessa was her responsibility, not his.

Jealousy wasn’t an emotion that Emariya had much experience with. She’d always had anything she needed and most everything she wanted. Still, the pangs coursing through her were unmistakable, and for the first time, she thought maybe she understood a little about how Blaine felt, afraid she might take what he considered his.

The receding storm released one last encore of thunder, and a flash of lightning illuminated the soaked travelers. As if it had suddenly realized it was defeated, the storm stopped dropping torrential bucketfuls of water over the soggy plain and the moon even peeked out from behind the sea-bound clouds.

Torian rode up behind her, his stallion’s hooves squishing into the sponge-like earth. “You found her!” He breathed heavily, and Emariya wondered if he was relieved that Jessa had been found or if it was due to being in sight of her once again. For herself, as soon as she caught sight of him, the world seemed a little more right.

After giving her an intense smile, Torian turned his attention to Rees. “We should make camp. We’ve rounded up most of the stragglers, but the horses are tired and nerves are unraveled.”

“Agreed. Blaine, go pass the word along to the commanders. Have our full company ride for the bluff just ahead. We’ll make camp there.”

“Won’t it be too windy on the bluff? Maybe we should move inland a bit,” Blaine asked his father, looking unsure.

Irritation flitted through Rees’s eyes. “Yes, it will be more windy, but we will also be visible to the stragglers coming in, so there is no chance they will miss our camp.”

Looking like a chastised child, Blaine turned his horse to do his father’s bidding.

Rees shook his head and sighed. “That boy.”

Once again, Emariya found herself sympathizing with Blaine against her will.

Beside her, Torian cocked his mouth into a playful grin. “Well, at least you have experience with liking people you start off hating.”

Throwing him a dirty look, she followed Rees to the bluff, looking forward to dismounting and drying off.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

The Things We Didn’t Say

Setting up a camp proved to be harder than Emariya expected. The rain had left more than just the exhausted travelers soaked.

Their tents, while still able to be erected, were damp from the torrential downpour. The rain soaked through several of their packs, leaving every item they owned ranging from slightly moist to utterly saturated.

Garith and Rink worked together starting a fire. If they could just get a fire going strong, it would be significantly easier to dry out many of their things. Emariya, having changed into the driest cloak and gown she could find, stood nearby leaning against Torian.

At first she didn’t realize what was happening. Each time Garith and Rink would attempt to light the kindling with the tinder they’d brought with them, the damp kindling would overcome the tinder and the glow would die out, leaving them to try again. Every spark sent a little thrill through Emariya, charging her with an unexpected energy. The sensation was so slight and so familiar that she would not have noticed it if it hadn’t correlated with the presence or absence of the flame.

It was as if the fire called to her each time it sought a host. Promising it would be back soon, a welcome and familiar friend. Without thinking about it, Emariya began to encourage the fire to light, pleading with it to catch hold.

“Let me.” Emariya stepped forward. Garith gave her a skeptical glance but handed over the flint before standing back out of the way.

On her first try, Emariya was rewarded with the birth of the flame. She gently blew on the tinder and orange tongues kissed eagerly along the kindling to ignite a slow and steady burn.

If she’d had any doubts before, now she had none. Fire was ready and willing to heed her call; she just needed to learn how to speak its language.

With the fire now raging, they settled themselves around it, keeping close to its intoxicating warmth. Several of their own troops as well as Hendel’s troops came by their fire, using it to light their torches and carrying the flame back to their slow-to-start fires.

Dawn began to touch the sky, and still most of the group seemed hesitant to move into their tents to sleep. Emariya looked across their little part of the campsite. Jessa sat back-to-back with Garith, their heads nodding, not quite asleep. Rink lay sprawled next to them with his head in Jessa’s lap, his honey hair fringed around his innocent, freckled face.

Emariya smiled as Torian took her hand and squeezed. She remembered his words from earlier in the evening.

“You know you may not be able to stop the battle. Both sides are so anxious for a fight, it may be inevitable.” Torian’s eyes watched her carefully, their smoldering, ash-colored depths heavy with concern and something else. Was that really insecurity she saw hidden behind his worry?

Emariya bit her lip and nodded. “Hopefully it won’t come to that. I can make them listen.”

Garith straightened his head and frowned at her from across the fire. “Riya, it’s not that simple. Had I not been with you, I would have had a hard time believing Reeve did the things we know he has. The people of The Rest aren’t going to be easy to convince.”

“I just need to keep them apart until I can convince them.”

“Hendel isn’t going to hold back while you try and win them over. You know that, right?” Torian said, not meeting her eyes.

“I know.” And unfortunately, she did.

“Will the frozen river hold us?” Torian asked.

“Yeah,” Garith said. “But we may have to go in small groups.”

“Will the horses be able to cross?” Regardless of what happened at the fjord, she would need to get to Warren’s Rest. Raina would make that a lot easier.

“Possibly. If not, we might have to go up and around, through the Borderlands,” Garith said.

Jessa yawned. “I overheard Master Hendel and his son talking when I was riding with them. They figure after we cross, you can just take horses from the other bank.”

“Those men will need their horses; I doubt we can take them. They won’t have enough as it is,” Emariya said.

Garith squared his jaw, anger flashing in his eyes. “Emariya, he isn’t planning on those men having need of their horses. His intention is to conquer them, or run them over.”

Emariya gasped. As much as she might not want to admit it, she was pretty sure Garith was right.

Tears filled her eyes and she looked away from Garith, not sure what to say. In the center of the campsite, the flames danced, putting on a chaotic show of oranges, reds, and blues. She overheard snatches of her companions’ conversations as she watched the flame, but she didn’t really listen, far too preoccupied with her own worries about the men at the fjord. How was she supposed to buy herself enough time to convince them? Garith was right: they weren’t going to believe her brother had done what she intended to claim simply because she said it was so.

“Emariya?”

“Huh?” She must have been more distracted than she thought. Torian sounded as if he’d been trying to get her attention for a while.

“I said at least the fire has thawed you out a bit, your fingers no longer feel like icicles. Do you want to go lay down and try to get some rest?” He sounded almost annoyed. Had she been that out of it? Suddenly, his words sank in.

Thawed…

Emariya stood up abruptly. “I think I will go try to get some sleep after all.” She needed time alone to think, and plan.

––––––––

Emariya was nowhere near asleep when Jessa joined her a few minutes later.

“Riya, is everything all right? You left kind of suddenly.”

She hadn’t meant to arouse their suspicions. She didn’t want to talk about her plan until she could be more sure that it would work.

Trying to sound reassuring, Emariya smiled and said, “Of course. Everything is fine.” She expected Jessa would crawl into her bedroll beside her, but instead, her handmaiden crossed the tent and rummaged in her own pack for a moment. When she turned back to face Emariya, she kept her hands hidden behind her back.

“Jessa?” Emariya sat up, staring at her friend.

Jessa bit her lip and her face scrunched up as if she were trying to summon courage from deep inside. Very softly, she said, “I made this for you while you and Torian were away finding the Roths. I didn’t want to give it to you when you got back because I didn’t want to bring up your mother, and because…well…I was angry with you.”

Emariya heaved a sigh as her shoulders slumped forward. “Because of how I responded about the man in our tent?”

Jessa nodded.

“Jessa, I really am sorry. I shouldn’t have been so hard on you.”

“No, Riya, you were right, even if I didn’t want to hear it.” Jessa took a small step forward.

“I could have said it nicer, though.” Emariya pushed her blankets off and then stood, giving her friend a quick hug.

Jessa pulled away and her face lit up in a true smile. Bringing her hands from behind her back, she gently pushed something into Emariya’s palm.

Emariya glanced down and gasped as tears sprang into her eyes.

Three straps of leather were woven together, forming an intricate bind. Between several of the weaves, dried herbs had been incorporated between the crossed straps. Glass beads adorned one of the singular fringed strands at the bottom. The final two embellishments were feathers. One dyed green, one dyed black.

A wedding bind.

Traditionally, a girl’s mother would weave her wedding bind.

“Do you like it?”

“Jessa! I love it. It’s…it’s amazing.” Emariya hadn’t even thought about who would make her wedding bind. Their days had been so hectic since the moment she’d agreed to come to Thalmas and wed that it had slipped her mind. And of course no one had wanted to risk upsetting her by mentioning it.

Jessa’s cheeks flushed to match her hair, but her eyes gleamed.

Clutching the intricate strap in her hand, she hugged Jessa again. “Thank you.”

Jessa took the strap back and secured it in the pack again.

“I’ve missed you, Jessa. I was so worried today when I couldn’t find you.”

Jessa looked up, startled. “Why?”

“Because I knew you’d be frightened, being on horseback in the storm.”

“I was…well, until Blaine…”

Emariya smirked, settling herself back on her bedroll. “You looked pretty cozy with Blaine.”

If Emariya thought Jessa blushed when she’d thanked her for the bind, it was nothing compared to the crimson she turned then.

“I am trying to hate him for you, Riya, I really am. He’s positively rotten to you.”

Laughing, Emariya shook her head. “You don’t have to hate him. He was nice to you today, and I appreciate that even if I don’t like him. I do feel bad for him, though. His father…”

“His father puts a lot of pressure on him. That’s why he is the way he is to you, I think.”

“You like him, huh?”

Jessa flopped down on her blanket beside Emariya with a drawn out sigh. “It doesn’t matter. I’m a servant, and he’s the heir to Sheas.”

“Well, if would help your interests, I could stake my claim. Then he wouldn’t be the heir anymore.” Emariya grinned.

“For some reason, I don’t think that would help.” Jessa pretended to glare and then they both dissolved into a fit of giggles.

“Probably not. I don’t want Sheas, anyway. I wish he could see that.”

Jessa was quiet for a few minutes, and Emariya’s thoughts drifted away again.

“Are things well between you and Torian? It seems like he has forgiven you about Terin.”

Emariya smiled to herself. “I think so. He told me he loved me earlier. I think it’s the first time he’s said it as plainly as that.”

Jessa leaned over, propping herself up on her elbow, her eyes wide and excited. “And what’d you say?”

Emariya tried to think. “Um, nothing really.”

“But why?” Jessa furrowed her brow, puzzled.

“Because I was in a hurry to find you. We were splitting up. He rounded up the stragglers while I continued looking for you.”

Jessa groaned. “So he told you he loves you, and you said ‘see you later.’ Brilliant, Emariya.”

Flashes of Torian’s distant and strange looks earlier by the campfire came surging back. Once more, she pushed to her feet. “I think I need to go find Torian.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Know Where Your Boots Belong

As she stole across the camp, her sights set on Torian’s tent, Emariya allowed herself a tiny smile in response to the fire’s greeting tingling up her spine. Being careful not to make a noise, she slipped through the folds at the entrance and stopped, staring.

In the weak pre-dawn light that followed her into the tent, she could just make out Torian’s sleeping form. At once, she felt the comforting thrill of being near him. The innate emptiness she always felt when they were apart receded.

Torian’s breathtakingly handsome features lay relaxed in the peace of slumber, looking so angelic that Emariya couldn’t tear her eyes away. Allowing the flap to close behind her, she stepped lightly toward him, not making a sound.

Her unruly heart pounded in her chest as she gave in to impulse and crouched down beside him. Biting her lip, trying not to lose her nerve, Emariya untied her cloak, laying it out beside Torian’s bedroll.

Torian shifted and mumbled something unintelligible, but his eyes remained closed.

Holding her breath, afraid that the slightest sound might wake him, she eased herself down until she lay in front of him. She had to stifle a gasp when her prince reached out, throwing a heavy arm across her. Had she woken him?

With her back to him, she couldn’t see his face but he didn’t say anything so she assumed he was still asleep. Gingerly, she scooted backwards, huddling against his solid chest, sharing in his warmth. They both huffed a soft, satisfied sigh. Emariya quickly drifted off to sleep, her worries temporarily lulled away.

The next thing she knew, weak early morning light filled the tent and Torian’s voice was in her ear. “Not that I’m not appreciative, but might I ask why you are in my bed?” His breath was warm on the back of her neck, sending a little thrill racing through her.

“I love you, too,” she said without opening her eyes. Her groggy mind registered Torian’s breath hitching in his throat before sleep claimed her once more.

––––––––

Emariya stretched tall in the saddle, looking eagerly across the plain before them. For the first time in months, the sky displayed a brilliant, clear blue coloring. Spring would soon be upon them. The storms that carried them out of Sheas had long since subsided and so far, they’d made good time.

“Do you feel like you’re heading home?” Torian asked from his mount. “You look so hopeful.” He smiled.

“Not as much as I thought I would,” Emariya said. “Things have changed so much since I left.
I’ve
changed.”

From her other side, Garith spoke up. “It doesn’t matter how much you’ve changed, Riya—and I think we all have—home is where they’ll always know you and welcome you back.”

“I belong to Thalmas now.”

Torian shook his head. “No, My Lady. Thalmas belongs to you.”

Emariya jerked her head around to look at him and Raina shifted beneath her. Settling herself, she saw the sincerity in Torian’s eyes. She could only hope that Eltar still belonged to her, as well. At this point, that was far more important than her belonging to it.

As if summoned by her dark thoughts, Blaine rode up beside them. He seemed to notice that their conversation had quieted just as he’d arrived. “Were you all talking about me?”

“Not everything is about you,” Emariya snapped.

Blaine pursed his lips but didn’t respond.

“How long until we reach Eltar?” Emariya asked, trying to break the uneasy quiet.

“Three days, give or take,” Blaine answered.

“Are you still willing to teach me how to use my gifts?”

“Gifts? As in, you don’t know how to use the gift of the Warrens, either?” Blaine arched one of his dark eyebrows.

“Not well.” Emariya sighed.

Blaine hesitated and then said, “It isn’t just the spirits of the Roths you can talk to, you know.”

“What do you mean?” Emariya asked.

“While only a Roth can talk to the spirits, any spirit can talk to a Roth. If you learned to use the Sound of the Stones, you could connect with one of the Warrens who might be able to guide you on their gift.”

It was brilliant. Emariya could only hope he was telling the truth. Her plan for the fjord hinged upon using the gift of the Warrens. “So it is possible to contact specific people, then, instead of just opening yourself to any contact?”

Blaine nodded. “I can’t tell you how to do it, I can only tell you how I do it. My mother and I, we both do it slightly differently.”

Blaine looked at her, and when she nodded in confirmation, he continued. “I visualize a door in the middle of a clay brick wall. When I want to open a connection, I remove a brick and try to cast my thoughts through. It helps to touch something of that person’s if I want to find someone specific, but sometimes I just sort of cast the thread of thought through the hole.”

“And then they come in?” Emariya didn’t like the idea of not being able to control who answered. What if it was her mother?

“No. They come to the hole and we can talk through. If I don’t want to talk to them, I just replace the brick and they’re shut out again.”

“And that works?”

Blaine smiled. “It always has for me. And if I really want to see and talk to them, after we greet each other from the hole, I let them in the door.”

It didn’t sound terribly hard. “You said your mother does it differently?”

“She visualizes that she is knocking at the door instead of being inside it. But that’s never worked for me. I couldn’t cast in, so to speak.”

“And what if you end up in the room with them, trapped, and you decide you don’t want to talk to them after all?”

“That isn’t something I’ve really had to worry about. But they can’t follow you to the waking world, so as long as you can make yourself wake up, you’ll be all right.”

That was what Emariya was most worried about. Her mother had already trapped her once. She wasn’t eager to repeat the experience. “So you both use the image of a wall, then. That seems to be the common factor?”

Blaine nodded.

“Do you use mindroot, as well?”

“I don’t anymore, but I used to.”

“Could you still reach out while under the effects of the mindroot?”

“Yeah,” Blaine said, “it just made the wall feel stronger.”

“Do they ever contact you without you asking them to?” Emariya asked.

“Sometimes. It feels to me almost like someone is tapping on that door in my head. It might sound silly, but sometimes I can feel it, right here.” Blaine pointed to his temple.

“It doesn’t sound silly.”

“If you want, I can contact someone—maybe Grandmother Carah—and have her ‘knock,’ if you think it would be helpful,” Blaine said.

Emariya smiled. “That would be great. I have a picture of her in my locket and I’ve spoken to her before.”

Torian was watching her carefully. Emariya was sure he knew she was planning something. As long as Blaine couldn’t also tell, it would be all right. She just needed to find a few moments alone to practice Blaine’s suggestions.

––––––––

Since the night she’d come to him, Emariya and Torian had shared his tent. It was no secret among the camp, and Emariya simply smiled each time she heard the whispers and rumors.

While they knew they were merely sharing warmth and the comfort of having each other near, the rowdy soldiers assumed much more.

“Let them talk,” Jessa told her as they headed toward Torian’s tent carrying Emariya’s pack and bedroll. A chorus of catcalls picked up behind them.

“They don’t bother me,” Emariya said. “I told Torian from the start that I didn’t have much interest in being proper.”

Suddenly, the weight of her pack disappeared and Emariya spun to see Torian grinning behind her. He’d scooped the canvas strap right off her shoulder and now toted it easily alongside his own.

“You know, we have people that can carry these for us.” He glanced apologetically at Jessa before speaking to Emariya again. “You are a princess now; why do you insist on doing mundane things?”

“Well, as I was just telling Jessa, I don’t care much for propriety. Though if you do, perhaps I should start sleeping in my own tent again.” Emariya gave Jessa a conspiratorial wink as Torian feigned outrage.

Her hands flew up instinctively as he tossed her bag back to her. “Suit yourself. Carry your bag if you like, as long as you are carrying it to
my
tent.” His smile spread broadly across his face.

“Actually, I was wondering if maybe I could have some time alone tonight.”

“You’re going to try and contact someone, aren’t you?” Concern dimmed the smile he’d sported only moments before.

“Yes.” Emariya hoped he would understand, but she was going to do it regardless.

“Do you think that’s wise?” They stepped into the tent, Jessa close behind, and piled their bags in the corner. Jessa set to work arranging their bedrolls side by side.

“I don’t know, but I need to try.”

“Why? What if your mother gets through?”

“I’m just going to have to hope that Great-Grandmother Carah has her under control. But I need to know more about the Warren’s gift. There really isn’t any other way.”

“Is this about the fjord? I wish you’d tell me what you’re planning.”

“Yes, and I will. Soon.”

“Why not tell me now? I don’t like that you feel the need to keep things from me.”

Emariya had to resist the urge to laugh as Torian’s lip puffed into an obvious pout. It was surprisingly adorable. “It isn’t that, Torian. I promise. Just let me do this on my own for now. Please? Once I’ve got it hashed out in my head, I’ll tell you.”

Torian sighed, defeated. “I’ll see you after a while, then?”

Emariya nodded and he quickly brushed his lips against her forehead. With a last glance back at her, he and Jessa left her alone in the tent.

She felt the immediate weight of Torian’s absence the moment he was gone. Closing her eyes, she forced her heartbeat to slow, reminding herself he was still close by, just not directly next to her. It was hard not to wonder if she’d still feel for him with such an extreme intensity were it not for the pull of the Stones. Perhaps that was something she should consider asking her ancestors about, as well.

In the late hour, the tent was cloaked in near darkness. Shuddering at the memory of being trapped in the shadowy mist with her mother, Emariya dug a candle out of her pack and lit it. Sitting cross-legged on the ground with the candle before her, Emariya slowly unclasped the locket from around her neck.

Using the edge of her fingernail, she sprung the tiny latch and stared at her grandmother’s picture inside. Letting out a slow breath, Emariya allowed her mind to close.

First she visualized an enormous stone wall, like the walls of Castle Ahlen, rising up before her. Once she could see each individual gray, black and brown stone, Emariya tried to add a wooden door to the wall. At first nothing happened, but then, ever so slowly, the door materialized.

What would she use as her hole? She wanted something she could control. Even if it only offered her a false sense of power, she didn’t want to be at the mercy of the spirits. In the top of the door, she imagined a window with a board covering it that she could slide back and forth to let in or shut out whatever waited on the other side.

Still in her mind, Emariya shakily reached out her hand, reaching to slide open the hatch.

Carah’s voice was in her ear.
I cannot come to you, my child, but fear not. I have your mother occupied; she won’t disturb you.

Emariya had planned to ask Great Grandmother Carah whom she should contact, but if she was occupied with keeping Lady Valencia contained, Emariya didn’t want to distract her.

Sliding the little door to the side, Emariya peered out through the crack, still to afraid to open it all the way.

“Hello?” Emariya mentally called through the little opening.

She waited, but silence hung in the air.

Maybe it would help if she decided whom she wanted to contact. The only Warren she knew to have any gifts at all was Irina, her father’s mother. According to Neela, she’d been an accomplished herb woman.

“Grandmother Irina?”

Again, she was met with silence.

Emariya tried several more times, but nothing happened. Her eyes snapped open. She’d heard the one whisper from Carah, but otherwise, nothing. Disappointment weighed heavily on her spirit. Not only had she looked forward to talking to Carah, she’d truly hoped that she might get to ‘meet’ one of her father’s family members. She reached up and fastened the locket back around her neck.

Replacing the locket gave her an idea.
Well, it’s worth a try
, she encouraged herself. Emariya found her herb pouch and placed a bundle of dried brown herbs in her palm. Once more, she closed her eyes. The wall appeared readily, and after a bit of focused concentration, Emariya conjured the doorway again, as well.

Driven to be less cautious by her frustration, Emariya flung the hatch to the side, opening the hole wide.

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