Authors: Anne Bishop
Tags: #Fantasy fiction, #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Witches, #Epic
Twilight's Dawn (7 page)
Daemon took a nutcake. “Training doesn’t usually start so early, does it? She’s still a girl.” A girl who had lost her mother when her entire village had been slaughtered by Eyriens working for Dorothea and Hekatah SaDiablo. A girl who had been rescued by Arcerian cats and spent months with them, living wild, before being adopted by Karla.
“She’s not a natural Healer—wasn’t born to that caste—but she has good instincts and a keen interest. She wants to specialize in healing kindred.”
He tried to keep a straight face—and couldn’t. “Does she practice her bedside manner on KaeAskavi?”
“Every chance she gets. Which is another reason I’m here today. If you want to know about kindred, you ask Jaenelle. Of course, Della and KaeAskavi are only together these days when we’re at the country house. The house in Sidra is too frustrating for him.”
“City streets would be hard for a cat that size.”
“Oh, it isn’t the confined space,” Karla said, a wicked twinkle in her glacier blue eyes. “It’s the frustration of having all that prey wandering around and not being allowed to catch and eat any of it.”
“We’re talking about horses, right?”
“You know better than that.”
Mother Night.
“So,” Karla said, “we have a plate of goodies and a pot of coffee, and I have another hour to visit before I have to be heading back home. Why don’t you tell me all the things you don’t want the coven to know?”
Since he’d rather chew off his own hand than get backed into
that
particular corner, he took the easy way out—he put the nutcake back on the plate and gave her all of the goodies.
that
particular corner, he took the easy way out—he put the nutcake back on the plate and gave her all of the goodies.
“Coward,” Karla said.
“Damn right.”
She laughed. “Even if you are a cock, you’re all right, Sadi.” She held out the plate. “Here. We’ll share. No gossip required.”
“Why do you need to go back so soon? Glacia is on the other side of the Realm, and that’s a long way to come to spend so little time here. You and Jaenelle haven’t had an evening together in quite a while.” Putting a touch of persuasion and a hint of seduction in his voice, he purred, “Stay. You can head back early in the morning. I’ll arrange for a driver and Coach so you can work or nap on the way home. Stay.”
She blinked at him. Then blinked again. “Hell’s fire, you’re good. I could feel my bones starting to melt.”
He smiled at her and let the spells fade.
“I had said I
might
stay over,” Karla said. “But I didn’t want to make it a certainty.”
might
stay over,” Karla said. “But I didn’t want to make it a certainty.”
“Are you worried about Della being home alone?”Would any of the Blood who had supported Karla’s uncle and survived the fighting two years ago try to hurt the girl?
“Yes, but not for the reasons you may be thinking. You’ve got that look in your eyes, Sadi. The ‘I’m ready to bristle and attack—where’s the enemy?’ look.”
“So what is the concern?” he asked too softly. Because she was right—he wouldn’t think twice about going to Glacia and eliminating any problems that might be plaguing Karla or a young girl.
“Prince Hagen, my Master of the Guard, likes children but has none of his own. So Della has found a surrogate father and he has found a daughter.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“Rules have a way of getting . . . lost . . . when I’m gone for more than a day. It’s the most amazing thing. No one can remember why vegetables are supposed to be part of a meal. No one can tell time to figure out when a girl Della’s age should go to bed. On the other hand, the man can be so strict about other things, I’d swear he took lessons from Uncle Saetan.”
“So while Auntie Karla is away . . .”
“They’ll have a good time.” She sighed with too much drama. “Fine. I’ll stay.”
“And I’ll be more than happy to entertain you with gossip.”
Just not about me.
He took the nutcake. “Why did Jaenelle go to the Keep?”
Just not about me.
He took the nutcake. “Why did Jaenelle go to the Keep?”
Karla hesitated before answering. “I think she wanted a second opinion.”
“Witch-child.” Saetan leaned against the blackwood table in the Keep’s private library and crossed his arms. He hadn’t known what would cause it, but he’d known this day would come. And because he’d known, he tightened the leash on his temper a little more. It was almost Winsol. He didn’t want a fight to smear the celebrations.
But there was going to be a fight. He could read that truth in the way she moved and the look in her eyes.
“Should I start sorting books?” he asked.
She looked at the empty table and smiled as she shook her head.
It had been a useful ploy, pretending to sort old books while some member of his extended family eased into talking about whatever the trouble was. Useful until he’d discovered the coven knew it was a ploy and were pretending right along with him.
None of the boyos, including his own sons, had figured out the deception, which embarrassed him a little on behalf of his gender. On the other hand, with them it was still a useful tool.
“No, there’s no need to sort books,” Jaenelle said. She hesitated. “Papa, there’s something I want to ask you.”
“Subject?”
“Rainier.”
Not what he’d expected. He relaxed a little.
“He’s not healing the way he should.”
She grabbed her golden hair and pulled hard enough to make him wince.
“Maybe it’s because I can’t . . . because I’m not . . .”
“No,” he said softly, a clear enough warning to anyone who knew him. And Jaenelle, his daughter and Queen, knew him.
She lowered her hands and looked him in the eyes. “Maybe if I took back the power—”
“No.”
Saetan straightened, then lowered his arms so that his fingers rested lightly along the edge of the table. “That part of your life is done.”
Saetan straightened, then lowered his arms so that his fingers rested lightly along the edge of the table. “That part of your life is done.”
“I didn’t lose the Ebony like everyone thought. Maybe I can—”
“Damn you to the bowels of Hell,
you will not do this
.”
you will not do this
.”
He saw the change in her and recognized the instant when it was Witch staring at him through Jaenelle’s sapphire eyes.
“You don’t know why things are different, High Lord,” Witch said in her midnight voice.
“Yes, I do, Lady. I went to Arachna. I met the Weaver of Dreams. I saw the tangled web that made dreams into flesh. And I saw that one slender strand of spider silk that changed the dream when she came back to us. There was another dreamer. You.”
She stepped back, wary now. “How long have you known?”
“A while now. Before you and Daemon married.” He paused, then added dryly, “Well, between the secret wedding and the public one, anyway. The point—and I hope you believe I will do what I say—is that my daughter has the life she wanted for herself, and taking back the Ebony would ruin that life.” And there was no certainty—none at all—that Jaenelle could still be a vessel for that much power, that taking back the Ebony wouldn’t kill her. “So you need to understand that I will fight my Queen into the ground in order to protect my daughter’s life. Witch-child, you never wanted that kind of power, so the only way you will take it back is by going through me. You’ll have to destroy me completely, because I will fight you with everything I am.”
Her face turned alarmingly pale. “You mean that.”
“Yes, I mean that. Everything has a price, Lady. That will be the price if you try to reclaim the Ebony.”
A heartbeat. Another. Then he was no longer facing Witch. It was Jaenelle studying him with haunted eyes.
“But . . . Rainier,” she said.
“I’ll remind you of a few things you’ve obviously forgotten.” His voice slipped into that tightly controlled scolding tone that could intimidate
any
child. Even this one. “When you were seventeen, you put Lucivar back together. Considering the condition he was in when Prothvar brought him to your cottage in Ebon Rih, he shouldn’t have survived at all. But you not only healed the broken bones and internal damage; you rebuilt his wings out of the few healthy scraps that were left.”
any
child. Even this one. “When you were seventeen, you put Lucivar back together. Considering the condition he was in when Prothvar brought him to your cottage in Ebon Rih, he shouldn’t have survived at all. But you not only healed the broken bones and internal damage; you rebuilt his wings out of the few healthy scraps that were left.”
“I wore the Black then and had a reservoir of thirteen Jewels to tap,” Jaenelle said, her voice full of frustration. “And Lucivar was all-or-nothing. Systemic healing. He came out of it whole or he died.”
“The Black isn’t Ebony,” Saetan said. “You’ve never used Ebony for healing because it was too dark, too powerful. You used the Black.”
“Well, Twilight’s Dawn isn’t the Black,” she snapped.
“No, but there is a Black thread in your Jewel. Compared to a true Black, you’ve got a thimbleful of power at that level, but it’s there. You also have two Black-Jeweled Warlord Princes and an Ebon-gray Warlord Prince who would have given you whatever power you needed for a healing web. And if you’d needed that kind of strength to add to a healing brew, Daemon or Lucivar would have given you the blood. The power was available, witch-child. This has nothing to do with the Jewels you no longer wear.”
“Then why isn’t Rainier healing?” Jaenelle paced, circled—and began snarling in a way that made Saetan wish he could put a shield between them without insulting her. “He was healing. He
was
.”
was
.”
“Could he dance again?”
“Yes!” She paused. Thought. “Not everything. Not the demanding dances he and I used to do sometimes as a special performance. His leg muscles will never be able to support that kind of demand. But all the social dances, yes. All the kinds of dances he taught.” She looked cold and bitter. “But he’s done enough damage to those muscles now that he won’t be able to do that.”
“Then whatever is wrong with Rainier has nothing, or little, to do with the healing itself,” Saetan said quietly. “I don’t think it’s his leg that needs to heal so much as his heart.”
He opened his arms. She stepped into the embrace and held on.
“Would you like some advice?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Let Lucivar deal with Rainier.”
She raised her head and narrowed her eyes. “Why?”
“Because I think Lucivar will be able to figure out the right motivation to help Rainier heal.”
“Lucivar will scare the shit out of him.”
“Precisely.”
She laughed and rested her head on his shoulder.
He savored the embrace. Since the day he’d met her—a seven-year-old girl who had walked through Hell without fear—he’d had to share her with so many others. Quiet moments when it was just the two of them had been rare, and he cherished every one.
“Papa?”
“Witch-child?”
“I won’t destroy the life your daughter dreamed of having.”
His breath caught. “Is that a promise?”
“Would you see a promise like that as a gift?”
“Yes, I would.”
She looked at him and smiled. “Then it’s a promise.”
FIVE
S
urreal looked at the fat, fluffy, lazy flakes of snow, then at the fire in the sitting room’s hearth, and decided the fire had more appeal. Especially after she coughed and felt the burn in her lungs.
urreal looked at the fat, fluffy, lazy flakes of snow, then at the fire in the sitting room’s hearth, and decided the fire had more appeal. Especially after she coughed and felt the burn in her lungs.
All right, she should have mentioned the burning sensation and continued shortness of breath weeks ago when Jaenelle was first healing the poisoned wound in her side. But she’d thought she’d shaken off the effects of the backlash spell that had trapped her and Rainier in that damn spooky house and that the shortness of breath was because of the poison.
You can take care of this now or you can flirt with pneumonia all winter
, Jaenelle had told her.
, Jaenelle had told her.
She didn’t want to flirt with anything at the moment, and since the “cure” was drinking a healing brew three times a day, limiting her time outdoors when the air was bitter cold, and stopping physical activity before she became fatigued, she wasn’t about to argue.
Especially since she planned to have Jaenelle put those instructions in writing so she could wave them in front of Lucivar when she went to Ebon Rih after Winsol. She couldn’t get out of everything he had planned for her, but even Yaslana wouldn’t challenge Jaenelle as Healer.
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