The Destroyer Goddess (4 page)

"You're sure your family were well?" she asked the assassin probingly.

"Yes." Najdan's answer was quiet and without expression.

"Because you don't seem quite your—" 
      "They're well," was the terse reply. Then Najdan saw Tansen. "Uh..."

"Maybe you should bring them to Dalishar," Mirabar persisted.

"I already told you. Not with us, and not to Dalishar," Najdan replied, staring uncertainly at Tansen. "They're safe where they are."

"Then why are you..." Realizing he saw someone behind her, Mirabar looked over her shoulder. When her gaze met Tansen's, she gasped and flinched.

"I'm glad to see you, too," he said dryly.

"
Tansen
." Her intense tone surprised him.

It finally dawned on him that her unaccustomed finery must be for a special occasion. He frowned. "It's not a festival day, is it?"

The Guardian and the assassin just stared at him.

"Well?" he prodded. 

Najdan and Mirabar exchanged a glance. Then they looked at him again.

"What?" Tansen asked.

Najdan suddenly moved. Mirabar put a hand on his arm. Her gaze, when the assassin looked down at her, was almost pleading.

Najdan said, in the sternest tone Tansen had ever heard him use with Mirabar, "I'm not staying for this. This is between the two of you."

Mirabar let out her breath on a puff of exasperation and released him. Her fire-bright eyes glowed almost yellow as she watched Najdan walk away. When she and Tansen were alone, she folded her hands and, after a long pause, asked, "What are you doing here?"

"What's going on?" he demanded.

"Aren't you supposed to be in Shaljir?"

"Mirabar."

"What happened at sea?"

"Oh, that..." He shook his head. "It's a long story, but nothing happened."

"So you're..." She looked a little upset. "You're not the one whom Zarien was sent ashore to find and bring back to Sharifar as her consort?"

"I don't know," Tansen admitted, thinking of the price the sea goddess had demanded of Zarien in exchange for his life after a dragonfish killed him. He had intended to go to sea with Zarien, who was convinced that Tansen must be the sea king he sought, but... "We had an unexpected change of plans."

"What happened?" Mirabar asked.

"First, tell me what's—"

"Tansen!"

He made a vague gesture. Her eyes followed the movement—then widened. She came closer and took his left hand between both of hers. Her touch set his heart to pounding again.

"You've sworn another bloodvow," she observed.

"Oh. Yes..."

She looked so beautiful. As beautiful as the mountains of Sileria. How had he ever, even at first, failed to see her beauty? He couldn't even remember what idiocy had prompted him to flinch in superstitious fear the first time he had ever looked into those passionate flame-gold eyes. 

Mirabar was a
shallah
and immediately understood the significance of the deep, slowly healing cut on his palm. "A bloodpact relation," she murmured.

"I've become a father," he told her.

She didn't have to ask whom he had taken for a son. "But doesn't he already have a fath—"

"When we got to Shaljir, we found out they were dead. His whole family and most of his clan."

"Dead?" Her face clouded with sorrow for Zarien.

"They died... well, not long after he did. Only no goddess brought them back to life."

"What happened?" Mirabar asked.

"They were killed at sea, when an earthquake on land swelled the waves and flung their boat against the rocks." Tansen told her everything else that he knew about it. Except Zarien's secret, of course, which it was not his right to share without permission...

"My real father wasn't sea-bound. Not even sea-born. My father was a drylander." Zarien's words were choppy and harsh.

"Who was he?" Tansen asked.

"I don't know." 
      
"I see. And your mother?"

Zarien shook his head. "I don't know."

"So Zarien threw Sharifar's gift to him, that oar—what did he call it, a
stahra
—into the sea?" Mirabar said, looking a little shocked. "To break the bargain she made with him the night she gave him back his life?"

The
stahra
—a traditional weapon of the sea-born folk—did indeed look like an oar. Tansen said, "He's very angry at Sharifar for letting his family die." Adopted in infancy, Zarien had believed they were his real family until the night, deep beneath the sea's surface, when Sharifar restored his life and told him the truth. And now the boy grieved for them as his real family. "He has turned his back on the sea."

 Mirabar said with concern, "I understand. But even so... What if he changes his mind later? The
stahra
—"

"—was meant to lead him to me. It's not needed anymore."

"We don't know that," Mirabar objected. "Not really. Sharifar's will can be interpreted in a number of—"

"Well, it's gone, either way," Tansen said. "And there's nothing we can do about it now."

"A quarrel with a goddess is dangerous," Mirabar said pensively.

"I know."

Her gaze flashed up to his. "Yes. Of course."

Unable to resist, he reached up to touch one of the brilliant yellow flowers decorating her lush hair. "Now tell me. What's going on here?"

"Um..." She licked her lips. "Well, you're going to find this very strange. I didn't expect you back so soon. I hadn't yet really considered how I would tell you—"

"Tell me what?"

From behind him, a gruff female voice said, "Aren't you ready yet? Baran's getting bored."

Tansen whirled to face Sister Velikar. 

"Oh. You're back. Hello," Velikar said, with about as much warmth as she ever showed.

"Where is Baran?" Tansen demanded.

Sister Velikar jerked her chin. "Inside."

"He's
here
?" His swords were in his hands before he realized he had unsheathed them. Halfway across the garden, he felt Mirabar's arms around him, her weight dragging against him to slow him down.

"Stop!" she cried. "No!" 

"He's come to kill you!" said Tansen. 

To his astonishment, Velikar laughed.

He stopped and glared at the Sister. "Sanctuary. I know. But whatever that madman is planning, Mirabar won't be safe the moment she leaves—"

"You haven't told him?" Velikar said to Mirabar.

"He just got here," Mirabar replied.

Still ready for combat, Tansen snapped, "Told me what?"

Mirabar cleared her throat. "We're getting married."

"Who?"

"Me and Baran," she said.

He was sure the sky tilted. "You're
what?
"

"Getting married," she said. "That's what I've agreed to, to convince him to side with—"

"
You're WHAT?
" he shouted.

Velikar said, "I'll leave you two alone."

He ignored the retreating old woman as he shouted at Mirabar, "What in the Fires are you talking about?"

"Baran set a price for his help," she said. "I've met it."

Tansen stared at her in speechless confusion.

She continued, "There were things he said—"

"It's a trap," he insisted. "Baran has promised Kiloran—"

"To kill me," said Mirabar. "I know."

"You
know?
"

"He's told me everything."

Tansen shook his head. "Baran is shrewd. He knew we'd eventually find out about the truce meeting, so he told you himself. To disarm you. To make you believe he was lying to Kiloran."

"Oh, I don't think he was lying to Kiloran."

Tansen frowned. "Then what—"

"Not at the time, I mean," said Mirabar. "I think he changed his mind afterwards."

"Then how do you know he's not going to change his mind about whatever he's promised
you?
" He was shouting again. He didn't care.

"Because this is our destiny. His and mine," she said.

"Your destiny? To marry a waterlord? To trust that madman?"

Another voice came from behind him. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

"
Baran
." Tansen turned his back on Mirabar and, swords poised for attack, faced the waterlord.

Baran frowned at Mirabar. "Did we invite him?"

"Go away," Mirabar said to her intended.

"You hot-headed
shallaheen
," Baran said disapprovingly to Tansen. "Always drawing your weapons on Sanctuary grounds."

Through clenched teeth, Mirabar repeated, "Go away."

Baran smiled at Tansen. A tall, big-boned man with unruly hair and famously wild eyes, Baran looked surprisingly older and thinner than when they had last met, but still formidable. Tansen retrained himself from glancing at the well in the center of the garden, knowing full well how easily Baran could wrap its waters around his neck and strangle him.

"My condolences," Baran said to him, "on the death of your brother."

"Don't even speak of Josarian to me," Tansen growled. "You don't deserve to."

"On the contrary," Baran said, impervious to insult. "I know what it is to lose someone to Kiloran."

"And I'm not going to find out what it is to lose someone to
you
," Tansen vowed. He ignored the stifled sound Mirabar made and kept his eyes on Baran.

Baran's gaze sharpened with amused interest. What he said next, though, surprised Tansen as much as the gentle tone in which he said it. "I swear I won't ever hurt her." He shrugged and added more prosaically, "Well, no more than men and women usually hurt each other."

"You're lying," Tansen said, wondering what would happen if he did violate Sanctuary and kill Baran right here and now.

"No," Baran said with quiet certainty. "If I'm lying, may my power forever desert me, and may I burn like the Fires for all eternity."

"I won't let her do this," Tansen warned him.

"How do you intend to stop her?" Baran asked curiously. "She's the most powerful sorceress in Sileria, and last I heard, you were still just a man."

Tansen drew in a sharp breath. "So
that's
why you want her." Maybe Baran really didn't intend murder, after all. Still, there was no way Tansen was letting this marriage take place.

"She knows why I want her," Baran replied. "I'll let her explain it to you."

"Thank you." Mirabar sounded exasperated.

As he turned to go, Baran added, "Try not to take too long. I'm getting bored." 

Almost shaking with helpless anger, Tansen sheathed his swords and asked Mirabar, "So why
does
he want to marry you?"

"Could your tone possibly be any less flattering?"

"
I
wanted to marry you," he snapped. "So I'm in no mood—"

"You?" Mirabar stared at him. "You..." She made a helpless gesture. "You never said..."

"I didn't—I was going off to..."

"To Shaljir."

"To battle," he said defensively. "And then to—"

"To Shaljir. To
her.
"

"No," he insisted. "To sea."

"Elelar's still alive, isn't she?" Mirabar asked wearily.

"And she's going to stay that way," he replied. An instant later, Tansen wanted to bite his tongue until it bled. He did not want to talk about Elelar right now, and he certainly didn't want to get stuck in the mire of defending her to Mirabar. He said with strained emphasis, "I was going off to sea to meet Zarien's sea goddess, and I knew—"

She sighed. "Even if I had known..." Tears filled her eyes and she shook her head. "I don't know. I think... I think it really has to be this way, Tansen."

"No, it doesn't," he argued fiercely, feeling her slipping away from him. 

The fire-fringed gold of her eyes revealed all the strength of her fervent belief in Dar, in destiny, in her decision. "This is what I must do."

"
No.
"

Tansen seized her shoulders and drew her to him, desperate, scared, angry, bitterly jealous. Her lips were soft and warm. She was startled at first, and she struggled. But he wouldn't let go. Couldn't.

"No," he repeated against her mouth, willing her to understand him, accept him. To want what he wanted. To give him what he tried to give her, to take from him as he took from her when he kissed her again.

For a moment her body answered him, and her will succumbed to his. For a moment, she was all living flame in his arms, all warm breath and soft skin and soul-deep longing. For a moment, they kissed as they were meant to, as they had always been meant to, and the wasted time and lost nights didn't matter anymore.

He felt heat, fire, the rich stream of lava-soaked desire which flowed between a man and a woman and made them forget everything but each other. He drowned in the hunger that led to delight, and the delight which led to more hunger. The craving which was pleasurable, the pleasure that hurt like pain. This was what only they could give each other, this and so much more. All the things he needed from her, all the things he longed to lay at her feet, welled up in him as his arms tightened around her and sought to keep her from another man.

For a moment, everything he wanted for them, together, seemed real and within reach. The fire and the warmth mingled in his blood, in his heart, in the breath they shared, in the frantic embrace they inflicted on each other, in the hot union of their mouths... But only for a moment.

She was strong for her size, and so he stumbled when she pushed him away and staggered backward. Driven by furious needs, he reached for her—but froze when he saw her scarred palm warding him off, begging him to stay away from her.

Blue-flecked flames danced across her skin for a moment, a glorious display he'd never seen on her flesh before. He smelled something burning and looked down. He absently patted the smoking sleeve of his tunic, noticing that it was singed now.

The hazards of making love to a Guardian, he supposed. Or at least to an inexperienced one.

"Mira... Don't do it." Tansen heard the pleading in his voice and didn't care.

Tears trickled down her face. Darfire, it hurt to see her cry. It hurt even more to be the one causing it. "I have to." Her voice was brokenhearted.