Reader and Raelynx (8 page)

He shrugged. “Well, not on purpose. It’s just that I always know where you are.” He flicked a look around the room. “All of you. It’s not like I’m trying. You’re just there.”

Donnal was laughing silently, but Kirra looked a little unnerved. “But what if I want to run away? Disappear?”

Senneth put a hand to her heart and tried to look soulful. “Why would you ever want to run away from Cammon?”

“But if I did?”

“Leave Gillengaria,” Donnal said. “Am I right?”

Cammon nodded. “I think so. Although I could still feel Justin when he was in the Lirrens.”

“The Lirrenlands are part of Gillengaria,” Kirra objected. “Well, sort of. So that doesn’t really count.”

“Let’s commission a boat and sail for Sovenfeld,” Senneth said. “We’ll see how far we have to go before Cammon loses sight of us completely.”

He smiled. “I won’t lose sight of you at all,” he said. “If you sail away, I’m coming with you.”

“So tell us, then,” Kirra invited. “Where was I when I wasn’t in Danalustrous?”

He waved a hand, indicating a generally southern direction. “Somewhere else. Down near Fortunalt, I think. Donnal was with you.”

She nodded, trying not to look impressed. “We were at Carrebos for a few days.”

Senneth licked her fingers. She had just had another small sliver of pie. “Never heard of it.”

“I think it’s a place you need to explore,” Kirra said. At Senneth’s inquiring look, she went on. “It’s a coastal town that’s a little north of Fortunalt. Not very big, but it’s been settled mostly by mystics. They’ve developed this whole community there. It’s like a haven. Some of them are readers, so they’re posted as guards to make sure soldiers and Coralinda’s men don’t come calling in the night. Some of them can cast fire, like you—some have powers I don’t even know how to describe.”

Senneth’s eyebrows were still raised. “Oh, yes, indeed,” she said softly. “I would very much like to go meet a town full of mystics.”

“Carrebos,” Cammon repeated, pleased. “Is that what it’s called?” They were all staring at him with varying degrees of wrath. “What?”

“You knew about this place?” Senneth demanded.

He spread his hands. “Well, I could tell there was this concentration of magic somewhere over in that direction—I couldn’t tell exactly what it was.”

“Why didn’t you ever mention it? You know I’ve been looking for ways to recruit mystics to the king’s army.”

“I didn’t know you didn’t know about it! You never said so.”

“Well, I could hardly
say
I didn’t know about—oh, forget it,” Senneth snapped, and then they were all laughing again. “Sometimes, Cammon, you are far more irritation than you’re worth.”

Kirra laid a quick hand on his arm. She was still laughing. “Oh, no, he’s not,” she said. “Cammon is always worth any amount of trouble he causes. You just never know when he’s going to bother to justify his existence.”

T
HEY
talked so late into the night that Kirra decided she shouldn’t go strolling up to the palace to demand a room. She stayed in Ghosenhall so often and she was such a favorite of the king that rooms were usually kept ready for her; still, common courtesy required that she give Milo a little notice.

“We’ll sleep here,” she said, glancing around. “Except I can see there’s no spare bed.”

Donnal slipped from his chair and melted into a furry black dog. Well. Cammon could tell that Donnal had changed shapes, he could tell what that shape was supposed to be, but the creature now nosing around beneath the table still held the unmistakable essence of Donnal. The pointed face was not quite Donnal’s face, and yet it was; the dark eyes were exactly Donnal’s eyes.

Kirra sighed. “Yes, I suppose we’ll sleep on the hearth like a couple of hounds. Easiest all around.”

“I’ll bring you an old blanket,” Senneth said, straight-faced. “Put out a bowl of water. Would you like a bone?”

Donnal barked and wagged his tail. Kirra sighed again. “Tomorrow I’m sleeping at the palace, as befits my station in life,” she said. “And I will
never
sleep on the ground or the floor again.”

Cammon yawned and climbed to his feet. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” he said. “When I’m done with the princess.” That evoked a storm of hoots and derision, and he felt himself flushing. “I meant—in the morning—we’re supposed to accompany her on an outing. I’ll see you when that’s finished.”

“Don’t neglect your duties just for us,” Kirra said.

He grinned and went out into the bitter cold air. He was shaking his head, but smiling at the same time. Kirra and Donnal back, Justin on the way. Cammon was almost completely happy.

K
IRRA
spent the next day with Senneth—Cammon could feel their merriment all afternoon as they browsed the shops of Ghosenhall—but before nightfall she presented herself at the palace and claimed her usual room. Naturally, as a high-ranking serramarra, she was invited to join the formal dinner that night, and she sat next to Delt Helven and spent the entire meal charming him.

She also, Cammon could tell, spent the whole meal trying hard not to look at Romar Brendyn.

She had fallen in love with Romar Brendyn last summer as the regent joined them on their tour of the prominent Houses. He was married, of course; his wife, Belinda, even now sat a few chairs over from him, round with her first pregnancy. Kirra had used magic to make the regent forget that he had cared for her in return, but she had not had recourse to any such spells to heal her own heart. Donnal had always adored her, and she had finally allowed herself to love him back, serf’s son though he was; but there was still a great ache inside her when she was anywhere near Romar Brendyn. Cammon could feel it through the entire meal, her clenched core of sadness, alleviated not at all by her light flirtations with the Helven lord and the Brassenthwaite man who sat on her other side.

Romar Brendyn was deep in conversations of his own, but from time to time the sound of Kirra’s laugh could catch his attention so hard that his head would turn and he would pause to look at her a moment before completing whatever sentence he had been uttering. A mixed, inchoate mess of emotions seized the regent every time he glanced at the golden serramarra. Cammon could sort them out much more easily than the regent could himself. Basic male appreciation for a lovely woman—admiration for her quick intelligence—an inexplicable wistfulness—a sudden surge of confusion—and an abrupt realization that he had a wife, he loved his wife, his wife was carrying their child. Romar’s eyes invariably would go from Kirra’s face to Belinda’s, and he would smile, and some of his bewilderment would fade.

This sequence of blocked memories and remembered responsibilities occurred perhaps ten times during the course of the meal. By the end of it, Cammon was not surprised that Kirra was feeling a little grim underneath her bright exterior.

No one else at the table was having to work so hard to have an enjoyable time. Delt Helven was still nervous, Amalie still gracious, the other visitors happy just to be in the room with royalty. By most standards, a successful meal.

“Let’s withdraw to the salon, shall we?” Baryn said as the dinner came to a close. “Perhaps another glass of wine and a little conversation before we end the evening.”

Chairs scraped on the floor as people stood, talking quietly to their neighbors. Belinda exited on the king’s arm, Amalie accompanied by Delt Helven. Kirra had been detained when a young Merrenstow woman asked her a question, and so she wasn’t able to escape when the regent approached her.

“Serra Kirra,” Romar greeted her. He was almost as fair as Kirra, with dark gold hair tied back from his strongly modeled face. “It has been some time since you have last graced us with your presence.”

The Merrenstow woman curtseyed and left; Kirra was left face-to-face with her former lover. Cammon knew he was supposed to follow the others into the adjoining salon, but he lingered in the hallway just outside the dining room, listening. He could feel Kirra’s sudden panic.

It didn’t show. “Lord Romar!” she exclaimed. “I wondered if you might be here. Have you abandoned your estates entirely so that you might stay close to Amalie?”

“I’m afraid I have,” he said. “I travel back once a month or so, but I am much in demand here. In the past I had left my wife to care for the land while I was absent, but, as you see, she is in a delicate state, and I do not like to have her there without me.”

“Yes, I had heard you were expecting a child. You must be so pleased.”

“Excited and afraid,” he amended.

“I think all new fathers feel the same,” she said.

“There is news from Danalustrous, I hear,” he said. “Your sister is to marry Senneth’s brother Will. An excellent match by any measure.”

“Yes, and I am delighted for her, but oh!—the wedding preparations! I think I shall be driven mad. You will know how frantic we have been when I tell you that I came to Ghosenhall for a little peace, for it is never quiet in Ghosenhall.”

As she spoke, Cammon could pick up a small spiral of actual pain rising through her bones. She was digging her fingernails into her palms, perhaps, or holding her hands behind her back and pinching her flesh. Yet her voice retained its easy lilt, and her face no doubt still showed its warm smile.

“How long do you plan to stay?” Romar asked. “Will you be joining us every night?”

She laughed. “I don’t know how long I’ll be here, but I cannot commit to endless dinners! I am very restless, you know, and
not
very proper. I am sure I will be pursuing much more entertaining activities that do not revolve around the social life in the palace.”

Cammon could hear the clink of plates and silver being piled together as servants started to clear the table. Kirra, he thought, might be edging for the door, but Romar Brendyn was not yet inclined to leave. Cammon could sense the regent’s puzzlement—
Why am I standing here exchanging inanities with this woman? Yet I cannot bring myself to walk out the door
—and his complete focus on Kirra.

“And how have
you
been, serra?” the regent asked in a low voice. “Safe, I hope? I remember some of our adventures from last summer, when it seemed you endangered yourself every other day.”

It was as if Kirra had been knifed in the heart. Cammon felt her pain that clearly. Yet her voice was steady still. “I believe
you
were the one who was endangered, lord. I happened to be nearby once or twice when you needed rescuing.”

Romar sounded amused. “Perhaps. Although I think our recollections differ.”

“Oh,” she said, “I believe that is often the case.”

Cammon could stand it no longer. He reentered the room and bowed to them both, then turned his attention to Kirra. “Serra,” he said. “Serra Senneth has sent me to fetch you. Are you free?”

“Senneth is as bad as you are,” the regent remarked. “She tries to avoid meals in the king’s dining room as often as she can.”

Cammon offered Kirra his arm, and her hand closed spasmodically over it. Yet she managed to respond lightly to Romar Brendyn. “Still, I had better go see what she wants,” she said. “I’m so glad we had a chance to catch up tonight.”

Again, a moment’s confusion passed over the regent’s face, and then he bowed. “Yes. Very glad. I hope to see you again while you are in residence at the palace.” And he bowed again and finally left the room.

Kirra gasped and doubled over, her unbound hair falling over her shoulders and trailing on the floor. The serving girls gaped at her, then hurriedly gathered up more plates and left the room.

“Kirra,” Cammon said, grabbing her shoulders, pulling her upright, and taking her in a rough embrace. He sent out a frantic call for Senneth, careful not to alert Donnal that there was any trouble. “Kirra.
Kirra.
Sit down a minute. You’re trembling. Do you want some wine?”

She shook her head. “No—I’m—I’ll be fine. I’ve seen him a half dozen times since last summer, it shouldn’t still be so hard. But when he looks at me—and he doesn’t remember—and yet he almost remembers…Cammon, it is like I can’t breathe.”

“I know,” he said, tightening his arms around her. For a long moment, they stood in silence, Kirra trembling in Cammon’s embrace. He could feel the despair inside her chest, like a silver bubble the size of a clenched fist. He stroked one hand over her curly hair and imagined that silver turning to white, iridescing, and slowly shimmering away into nothing.

She jerked upright in his arms and pulled away, staring at him in wonder. “What did you do?” she asked suspiciously. She was trying to frown but Cammon could pick up her sense of overwhelming relief.

He opened his eyes wide, to indicate innocence. “What? Nothing.”

“Yes, you did—you—I don’t feel so bad. All of a sudden. You did something.”

“Well—”

But he didn’t have to answer. Senneth came skidding in from the kitchen door, Tayse a pace behind her. She looked apprehensive and he savage. Tayse had a knife already loose in his hand.

“What’s wrong?” the Rider demanded. He glanced around. “Where’s Amalie?”

“Amalie’s fine,” Cammon said. He should have realized Senneth would bring Tayse along to any nonspecific emergency. “I was worried about Kirra.”

Now Tayse’s gaze locked on Kirra, but since she wasn’t bleeding, he instantly dismissed any concerns about her immediate danger. “What’s wrong with her?”

Kirra had freed herself completely from Cammon’s hold and was smoothing down her hair and gown. “Nothing. I’m fine. Everyone is alive and healthy.”

“Then why did Cammon call for us?”

But Senneth had figured it out. Her gray eyes glanced quickly around the room and she mentally peopled the chairs with noble guests. “I suppose the regent is in the other room with his niece,” she said.

Kirra smiled with an effort. “I suppose he is.”

Comprehension came to Tayse’s face. Not until that moment did he sheathe his weapon. “Well, one thing we know,” he said, not sounding at all disgruntled about rushing to a rescue that turned out to be unnecessary, “Cammon can certainly grab our attention when he needs us. That’ll work in our favor someday.”

Cammon nodded. Senneth took Kirra’s arm. “Are you expected in the salon? Or can you come with us?”

Kirra nodded her head toward Cammon. “He came in and announced that you needed me. So I don’t think anyone will mind if I disappear with you now.”

“Good. Then come back and help me go through all the linens we bought today. You know I’m hopeless with household goods.”

Kirra smiled. “That sounds like a marvelous idea.”

They turned toward the door to the kitchen, Tayse in the lead, Senneth still keeping one hand firmly on Kirra’s arm. But Kirra turned back once to give Cammon a wide-eyed look and mouth the word
thanks.
Senneth also glanced back before she disappeared through the door, but her own expression was narrowed and thoughtful. He had surprised her again, he could tell, and she was annoyed at herself for continuing to be astonished. As the door closed between them, she kept her eyes on his face, and he could practically hear the words in her head:
What else is this boy capable of?

I
N
the morning, Delt Helven was gone and no new beaux were expected until tomorrow. Milo, clearly disapproving, told Cammon that the princess wanted his company anyway. Cammon donned another clean uniform and hurried to the rose study.

He was surprised to find Donnal leaving just as he arrived. Donnal must have interpreted his expression, for a smile showed through his dark beard.

“What are you doing here?” Cammon asked.

“I always visit the princess whenever Kirra and I first arrive,” Donnal replied. “We became friendly last summer when I guarded her rooms, so she likes me to drop by.” He shrugged slightly. Donnal was used to obeying the orders of imperious women. It wouldn’t occur to him to refuse. “I think she enjoys the company now and then.”

It was stupid to feel even the smallest spurt of jealousy. Donnal had only recently become Kirra’s lover, but he had been devoted to her most of his life. Lucky for Cammon, Donnal was a shape-shifter, not a reader. “That’s kind of you,” Cammon said. “I think she’s often lonely.”

“She has the queen for company,” Donnal replied.

Cammon laughed. “I’m not sure Valri is always entertaining.”

Donnal nodded expressively and departed. Cammon shook off his mood and pushed open the study door.

Valri was sitting at a desk in the corner, apparently writing out correspondence. She glanced up when Cammon entered, but immediately returned her attention to her letter. Amalie waved him over from where she sat in one of the chairs grouped before the window. On a table nearby rested a whole tray full of after-breakfast treats.

Cammon settled beside her and happily picked out a tart. “What horrible weather,” Amalie said in greeting. Instead of the sunshine they had enjoyed for the past few days, lashing winds tossed around low gray clouds, and angry rain spit against the glass.

“Glad I’m not a Rider today,” Cammon said with some satisfaction. “These are the days they make it a point to practice outside. Just to prove to themselves weather won’t slow them down in a battle.”

“That would seem to be a very welcome sort of magic,” the princess observed, “the ability to dissipate the weather. Bring on the sun, or call in the rain. Do any mystics have such a gift?”

“Not that I’ve ever heard,” he said. “But that
would
be an excellent gift.”

“I don’t know much about magic,” Amalie said. “What kinds there are—and why some people have it and some people don’t.”

“Senneth thinks magic is a gift from the gods,” he said. “And that there are a dozen or so gods—most of them forgotten. The Bright Mother is the goddess of the sun, and she passes on the ability to call fire, at least that’s what Senneth thinks. Kirra has begun to send her prayers to the Wild Mother, who watches over all the beasts.”

“That makes sense, because Kirra so often takes animal shape,” said Amalie. “What other gods are there?”

“The people of the Lirrens worship the Dark Watcher, or the Black Mother, who apparently offers them all sorts of powers. Justin’s wife, Ellynor, is a healer, but she also has the ability to hide herself, literally make herself disappear. She says her brothers can do the same thing. I suppose the Black Mother is a goddess of secrets. Things you whisper in the middle of the night.”

Amalie smiled. “I like that. But what about you? Who gives you your power?”