magic flow. Faanshi gasped but welcomed that new light, for it steadied and guided what she had barely enough awareness to manage on her own. Between them, Julian settled, and then his eyes drifted shut.
Faanshi paused with her hand against his hair and gazed down at his face. The light in the cave was dim, though she could see well enough, and the wisps of magic she exuded told her what her eyes did not. He was thinner; some of the substance of his frame had been burned away, despite her efforts. New skin, like that of his hand, covered much of his face and made him look younger. Or perhaps it was simply because he’d utterly relaxed against her. This is what he looks like at peace.
“I did this,” she said in wonder, when she was sure that he slept.
“You did,” Alarrah agreed. “Well done. But you too should rest. You’ve gone through as much as Julian.” As Faanshi raised her head in protest, the she-elf went on gently, “Sleep here beside him. Kirinil and I will keep watch.”
Mollified, Faanshi let Alarrah ease her and Julian both down to the cave floor and tuck the blanket about them. Even as she stretched out with Julian cradled against her, though, she peeked up over his head. “Alarrah. Are...are you and Kirinil scared of me?”
“No, enorrè. ” Alarrah didn’t quite smile; she, like all of them, seemed too weary for that. She paused to consider, and her next words were uttered with care. “We’re just trying to absorb what happened. You turned away the Anreulag. No one in Dolmerrath has ever seen that done.”
“I only made Her go away,” Faanshi pointed out, her voice small. “That means She can come back.”
What trace of a smile Alarrah bore faded. “That’s true.”
Now that she was off her feet, Faanshi allowed her eyes to close. “I don’t know what I did to make Her go away,” she admitted. “I don’t know if I can do it again.”
“We’ll figure it out. Rest now. Let your power restore itself.”
That wasn’t answer enough to assuage Faanshi’s restlessness. Only when her hand crept across Julian’s chest, letting her feel the rise and fall of it through her palm, was she able to drift toward slumber. Her magic subsided to a background shine in her thoughts, just enough to let her know that the contact was unbroken, that Julian would heal.
One part of her, however, still lamented that the Hawk hadn’t come with them. “Kestar’s too far away now. If the Anreulag comes to him, I won’t be there to turn Her aside again.”
And for that, Alarrah had no answer at all.
Chapter Four
The royal palace , Dareli , Jomhas 17 , AC 1876
The quiet knock was the simplest of noises, just a single thump of a fist against the sturdy oak of her bedchamber door. Yet Ealasaid, Bhandreid of Adalonia, Queen and Empress of the Nirrivan provinces and protectorates, took it in as though it were the tidings of war. Feeling every moment of her seventy years, she turned from the window where she had been staring out into the night, and called out her permission for the arrival to enter the room.
It was the High Priest, of course. Short of the threat of war or of the imminent destruction of the palace, no one else would dare violate her privacy so late in the night. Such were the hours when Ealasaid could claim time alone; at any other time, she was too visible, too called upon to lead, to rule. Only at such hours, in the sanctity of her personal suite, could she be assured that any words he might utter would go unheard by any ears but her own.
“What news have you brought, Deglis?”
Deglis Elirrides, High Priest of the Church of the Four Gods, was ten years her junior and mostly blessed rather than cursed by time’s passage. Though almost entirely white, his hair was still thick and full, his shoulders still powerful and broad. In his youth he’d been handsome and callow, and she’d almost married him. In his maturity he was distinguished, almost regal, and he always looked at
Faanshi paused with her hand against his hair and gazed down at his face. The light in the cave was dim, though she could see well enough, and the wisps of magic she exuded told her what her eyes did not. He was thinner; some of the substance of his frame had been burned away, despite her efforts. New skin, like that of his hand, covered much of his face and made him look younger. Or perhaps it was simply because he’d utterly relaxed against her. This is what he looks like at peace.
“I did this,” she said in wonder, when she was sure that he slept.
“You did,” Alarrah agreed. “Well done. But you too should rest. You’ve gone through as much as Julian.” As Faanshi raised her head in protest, the she-elf went on gently, “Sleep here beside him. Kirinil and I will keep watch.”
Mollified, Faanshi let Alarrah ease her and Julian both down to the cave floor and tuck the blanket about them. Even as she stretched out with Julian cradled against her, though, she peeked up over his head. “Alarrah. Are...are you and Kirinil scared of me?”
“No, enorrè. ” Alarrah didn’t quite smile; she, like all of them, seemed too weary for that. She paused to consider, and her next words were uttered with care. “We’re just trying to absorb what happened. You turned away the Anreulag. No one in Dolmerrath has ever seen that done.”
“I only made Her go away,” Faanshi pointed out, her voice small. “That means She can come back.”
What trace of a smile Alarrah bore faded. “That’s true.”
Now that she was off her feet, Faanshi allowed her eyes to close. “I don’t know what I did to make Her go away,” she admitted. “I don’t know if I can do it again.”
“We’ll figure it out. Rest now. Let your power restore itself.”
That wasn’t answer enough to assuage Faanshi’s restlessness. Only when her hand crept across Julian’s chest, letting her feel the rise and fall of it through her palm, was she able to drift toward slumber. Her magic subsided to a background shine in her thoughts, just enough to let her know that the contact was unbroken, that Julian would heal.
One part of her, however, still lamented that the Hawk hadn’t come with them. “Kestar’s too far away now. If the Anreulag comes to him, I won’t be there to turn Her aside again.”
And for that, Alarrah had no answer at all.
Chapter Four
The royal palace , Dareli , Jomhas 17 , AC 1876
The quiet knock was the simplest of noises, just a single thump of a fist against the sturdy oak of her bedchamber door. Yet Ealasaid, Bhandreid of Adalonia, Queen and Empress of the Nirrivan provinces and protectorates, took it in as though it were the tidings of war. Feeling every moment of her seventy years, she turned from the window where she had been staring out into the night, and called out her permission for the arrival to enter the room.
It was the High Priest, of course. Short of the threat of war or of the imminent destruction of the palace, no one else would dare violate her privacy so late in the night. Such were the hours when Ealasaid could claim time alone; at any other time, she was too visible, too called upon to lead, to rule. Only at such hours, in the sanctity of her personal suite, could she be assured that any words he might utter would go unheard by any ears but her own.
“What news have you brought, Deglis?”
Deglis Elirrides, High Priest of the Church of the Four Gods, was ten years her junior and mostly blessed rather than cursed by time’s passage. Though almost entirely white, his hair was still thick and full, his shoulders still powerful and broad. In his youth he’d been handsome and callow, and she’d almost married him. In his maturity he was distinguished, almost regal, and he always looked at
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