warned me this might happen,” she said quietly, trying not to reveal how frightened she truly was. “My magic is starting to fade back to its former level. The effects of the seal were only temporary.” Athaya squeezed her eyes shut. She should have expected this, but had grown so accustomed to her increased abilities that the idea of losing them seemed more remote as each day passed. “But why
now
?” she cried, pounding the wall with her fist and then mouthing a curse at the resulting pain. “If the Sage comes—”
“Athaya, don’t get ahead of yourself. You were tired when we left—this could be an isolated incident. But even if it isn’t, you’re still an adept, same as the Sage.” Then he leaned over and offered her a kiss of encouragement. “And didn’t the Sarians’ own prophecy say that you wielded ‘powers unseen since the days of the ancients’?” he reminded her, widening his eyes in mock amazement.
His efforts managed to elicit a grudging smile. “All right, I see your point. God knows I have enough to worry about already without making myself crazy over this, too.” Athaya propped herself up against a pillow and took a deep breath to steady herself. “Maybe this is just God’s way of settling the score. After all, if the Sage and I were both adepts, then having my power extended by the seal might be construed as cheating. This way, the sides are even.”
“Even,” Jaren echoed soberly, as a shadow passed over his face. “But in readiness for what?”
Chapter 3
“But it simply isn’t possible!” Drianna exclaimed, as she hurriedly trailed the Sage’s steward up the spiral stair to his Grace’s bedchamber. Gossamer skirts of pale blue silk floated on air in her wake and she hastily tucked the last wayward tendrils of auburn hair beneath a beaded chaplet, having barely finished her morning’s ablutions when Tullis’ urgent summons had arrived.
“I speak the truth, my Lady. He was up at the crack of dawn, calling for his breakfast, demanding parchment to write with, summoning his tailor, his treasurer—and you, of course—not to mention a dozen other things. I’ve never seen him so energetic. It’s all any of us can do to keep up with him.” But while it should have been resoundingly good news, the stiffness in his bearing betrayed Tullis’ concern that not all was well with the Sage of Sare.
“But you only released him last night!” Drianna persisted, her tender lower lip bearing a crescent-shaped mark where her teeth had bitten down upon it in perplexity. “He’s not supposed to recover this quickly. Princess Athaya did, yes, but only after being delirious and near death for three weeks.” Drianna began to nibble on the tip of her thumbnail. “I don’t like this, Tullis. I don’t like it one bit.”
Tullis paused at the top of the stair, grasping the wooden railing with a blue-veined hand as if to steady himself. “No, my Lady. Neither do I.”
She followed the rest of the way in silence, thinking back to the fateful day when the Sage’s trusted servant had laid the sealing spell upon him, imprisoning his awesome powers within the cramped confines of his mind. ‘Castration of a sort,’ Brand had jokingly called it, ‘but not near so final.’ He had hidden his fears well, but Drianna knew Brand had harbored them. Still, he wanted more power and this was the only way he knew to obtain it. He refused to be outmatched by a woman half his age and knew that only Athaya Trelane stood between him and the Caithan crown he believed himself destined for.
Drianna pulled her ruddy brows together in a frown. She had never minded his jealousy when she was the object of it, but now it galled her that he would risk his life for an extra measure of magic. Even Tullis had advised him against such folly, though he had been swiftly rebuked for the presumption. Was Brand so uncertain he could win Caithe without extending his already considerable talents? And he was not
now
?” she cried, pounding the wall with her fist and then mouthing a curse at the resulting pain. “If the Sage comes—”
“Athaya, don’t get ahead of yourself. You were tired when we left—this could be an isolated incident. But even if it isn’t, you’re still an adept, same as the Sage.” Then he leaned over and offered her a kiss of encouragement. “And didn’t the Sarians’ own prophecy say that you wielded ‘powers unseen since the days of the ancients’?” he reminded her, widening his eyes in mock amazement.
His efforts managed to elicit a grudging smile. “All right, I see your point. God knows I have enough to worry about already without making myself crazy over this, too.” Athaya propped herself up against a pillow and took a deep breath to steady herself. “Maybe this is just God’s way of settling the score. After all, if the Sage and I were both adepts, then having my power extended by the seal might be construed as cheating. This way, the sides are even.”
“Even,” Jaren echoed soberly, as a shadow passed over his face. “But in readiness for what?”
Chapter 3
“But it simply isn’t possible!” Drianna exclaimed, as she hurriedly trailed the Sage’s steward up the spiral stair to his Grace’s bedchamber. Gossamer skirts of pale blue silk floated on air in her wake and she hastily tucked the last wayward tendrils of auburn hair beneath a beaded chaplet, having barely finished her morning’s ablutions when Tullis’ urgent summons had arrived.
“I speak the truth, my Lady. He was up at the crack of dawn, calling for his breakfast, demanding parchment to write with, summoning his tailor, his treasurer—and you, of course—not to mention a dozen other things. I’ve never seen him so energetic. It’s all any of us can do to keep up with him.” But while it should have been resoundingly good news, the stiffness in his bearing betrayed Tullis’ concern that not all was well with the Sage of Sare.
“But you only released him last night!” Drianna persisted, her tender lower lip bearing a crescent-shaped mark where her teeth had bitten down upon it in perplexity. “He’s not supposed to recover this quickly. Princess Athaya did, yes, but only after being delirious and near death for three weeks.” Drianna began to nibble on the tip of her thumbnail. “I don’t like this, Tullis. I don’t like it one bit.”
Tullis paused at the top of the stair, grasping the wooden railing with a blue-veined hand as if to steady himself. “No, my Lady. Neither do I.”
She followed the rest of the way in silence, thinking back to the fateful day when the Sage’s trusted servant had laid the sealing spell upon him, imprisoning his awesome powers within the cramped confines of his mind. ‘Castration of a sort,’ Brand had jokingly called it, ‘but not near so final.’ He had hidden his fears well, but Drianna knew Brand had harbored them. Still, he wanted more power and this was the only way he knew to obtain it. He refused to be outmatched by a woman half his age and knew that only Athaya Trelane stood between him and the Caithan crown he believed himself destined for.
Drianna pulled her ruddy brows together in a frown. She had never minded his jealousy when she was the object of it, but now it galled her that he would risk his life for an extra measure of magic. Even Tullis had advised him against such folly, though he had been swiftly rebuked for the presumption. Was Brand so uncertain he could win Caithe without extending his already considerable talents? And he was not
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