The Nemisin Star (46 page)

He glanced at
the cup in his hand. Tea. The cure of ills. Blinking, in sync with
her reasoning, he raised it to his lips. It was good, although not
as warm as when it left the kitchens. Still, he drank it and did
feel better. That, he knew, had more to with her gesture than the
actual brew. That was the point of a cup of tea. The caring that
went into making it.

“Thank
you.”

She took the
empty cup from him and then did not know what to do. He made the
next move and she was forever grateful. Never at a loss for words,
she found herself tongue-tied in his presence.

“Have you
settled in?” he asked.

“I have.”

“I was
thinking that you and Tris should take over the corner suite at the
eastern stairwell. It is larger, and you could decorate to your
taste.”

She swallowed.
“I will suggest it. Thank you.”

A hand worked
through his hair. “Mitrill …”

She raised her
chin. “I think I understand. I do not require an apology.”

His hand froze on the top of his head. “
Do
you understand?”

Mitrill
inclined her head. “Skye is your goddaughter.”

He barked a
laugh and his hand descended. “Gods, it is not about Skye.” She
chose silence. “Mitrill, you and Tris work to different ends in
getting married. I am not against the union, for it is a good one
from a Valleur point of view, but I wished for … well, I hoped he
would …” He swore and broke it off.

“Love his
wife?”

“That may have
been too much to ask for in a political marriage.”

“You think he
would have married politically?” she said.

“Don’t you? I
believe you know where his heart really lies.”

“I do. But
ours is not a political marriage. And we do love each other.” He
raised a brow. Mitrill shrugged. “Believe what you will, but with
enough time what we feel now could become more.” She stared at him
and was unafraid. “You hoped he would do it the long way. Get to
know his prospective bride, perhaps fall in love properly before
getting married. You hoped he would be happy in his choice. In some
way, you actually hoped he would get around the bloodline and marry
Skye.” He did not answer, for any answer was too complicated.
“Whatever different ends we had, they have now become
immaterial.”

He inclined
his head, eyes sparking. “You are fiery, brave, and you will
clearly support him no matter what. Admirable.” He raised a hand
when she wanted to speak. “I admire your spirit, Mitrill. It is
exactly what he needs. I just wonder if it is what he wants.”

That silenced
her, but not for long. “He is much like his father.”

His expression
blanked. “What does that mean?”

“Certain factors become addictive in what one
wants
, my Lord. It is
hard to deny.” She swung around and strode away.

She was angry,
and he was floored.

He knew
exactly what she meant.

Vannis noticed
her descend and saw Torrullin lean over the wall to stare into the
courtyard.

He snorted,
hoping Torrullin’s daughter-in-law had shown her spirit. The man
deserved a good drubbing.

Tristamil
noticed her as well, and made himself scarce. He did not want to
know what those two said to each other.

The maid who
accepted the empty cup from Mitrill took one look at her face,
reading her anger. The Vallorin was being unfair. Young Tristamil
was clearly enamoured of his bride.

Saska, leaving
the meeting rooms off the Dragon doors, stopped. Her gaze found her
husband. He was astounded by something. She noticed Mitrill’s
demeanour, and thought she understood. She also saw how Tristamil
swiftly walked in an opposite direction and how Vannis clearly
enjoyed Torrullin’s discomfort. Well. All it needed now to add up
to a proper explosion was Skye wandering in … and Cat.

Where were
those two? Had Quilla prevailed upon them to return to the
Lifesource? She thought she saw the birdman earlier.

Wandering
through the Dragon doors, she noticed Cat and Lowen in the meadow
opposite the stone bridge, both swathed in big coats. She could not
discern expressions from this distance. Well, that answered
that.

Where was
Skye, then? She promised to speak to her after hearing what
Tristamil had to say about his sudden marriage, but the young woman
was markedly scarce. Hopefully she was not in Luan. Margus was no
fool, and always used Torrullin’s loved ones against him.

Saska frowned,
determined now to find her.

Luan

Southeast of
Luan was the graveyard, where Lanto was buried.

Saska wandered
among the low gravestones, reading names. The place was well
tended. Flowers froze in the frigid air on many plots and small
statues marked others. She noticed movement near a huge oak. The
tree would be amazing in spring leaf, but was bare now. She found
Skye on her knees before Lanto’s grave, clearing away debris.

Skye looked up
when Saska stopped beside her.

Here lies
Lanto, beloved father and friend.

Simple and to
the point. And true. Truly a beloved father and friend. The
freckle-faced man with his big ears had been a favourite. He once
saved her life. Saska knelt beside Skye and helped her clear.
Neither spoke.

After, they
sat on the bench nearby and Skye pulled a flask from her coat
pocket. She poured steaming coffee into the two little mugs hidden
in the lid and passed one to Saska.

A sip, and,
“Boy, that hit the spot.”

A small smile.
“My father’s favourite brew.” Skye sipped as well.

“Did he tell
you about the time he fell over a log in the brush near Ass River?
No one saw him, but to hear him tell it, there were creatures
lurking in that low terrain just waiting to nab the unwary!” Saska
laughed.

“Never mind
the time mosquitoes were aliens in disguise!”

“He sure could
spin a yarn.”

“He loved it.
He was born a story teller.”

“Bards and
Tales Champion,” Saska said fondly.

Skye looked at
her.

Saska sighed.
“I cannot set your mind at ease.”

“You spoke to
him.”

“Yes, and
there is no going back.”

“I know that,
Saska. What I don’t know is why.”

“He didn’t
really answer.”

“No, he
wouldn’t. At least tell me if he is happy.”

Saska sighed.
“I doubt it.”

A slow nod.
“It is misplaced duty. I wonder why he chose to go there so
soon.”

“How are you
coping?”

“Well, crying
into my mug isn’t going to help me, so I’ll be fine. I just don’t
want to see him right now.”

“Understandable. But you can’t stay here.”

“The
Lifesource, I know. I asked one of the kitchen maids to bring me.
She’ll be back in an hour to take me to the Temple.”

“Good.”

“It’s all
right. You can leave me here. I have taken what I need to the
Temple already and I need some quiet time before dealing with so
many evacuees.”

“Just stay
low.”

Skye frowned.
“What do you want to tell me and don’t know how to?”

“Am I that
transparent?” Saska shrugged that away. “I guess I want to tell you
that …”

“He is crazy
about her?”

Saska
scratched at her head. “Not crazy about her, but … well, he is not
immune. I think he could be happy given sufficient time.”

Skye sighed.
“Of course he is not immune. She is beautiful, she is Valla and she
is clever. I’m not sure I like that he could be happy eventually,
but I also don’t want him to be unhappy.”

“I’m sorry,
Skye.”

“As I said,
I’ll be fine.”

Saska stood.
“You know you can talk to me any time.”

“Thank you.
But I think we’re done talking about this. It is time to move on. I
have been strong before and will be again. And one day I’ll meet a
man who sweeps me off my feet …” Abruptly she doubled over and
burst into tears.

Saska sat
swiftly and took the girl into her arms, cradling her as she would
a young child.

They sat that
way for some time, and then Saska left her to her thoughts. Skye
wanted to be alone. She needed to undo red eyes.

She needed to
find equilibrium.

Shine the
light, friend, where shadows are supreme. Force them to retreat. Do
not waver.

~ Awl

White
Palace

T
ymall paced his cell, ignoring the
guards.

There was an
insistent knocking in his skull, akin to a migraine, although it
did not hurt as that kind of headache would. He had a feeling it
was an outside influence. Should he allow it in?

Ensconced in
some considerable comfort in the dungeons, he discovered a measure
of peace. When his choices were forcibly removed, his will to do
harm ceased as well. For once he need make no decisions. For the
first time he could simply eat, sleep, read and wake, and there was
no added stress. There were no slights to cope with and no
perceived threats, his guards were unobtrusive and left him
alone.

He liked it.
His brother was not around every corner.

While he would
not want this situation to continue for long, at this point it was
comfortable and comforting. And now there was an intrusion.

What to do?
Ignore it and wait upon his father’s judgement? Let it in and find
out what could come next without his father’s influence? He
understood this was a vacuum, a point in time that had no meaning
and no influence. He welcomed it. Yet it was artificial.

The time would come when it would change, and he would have
no defence. Yes, that was the real issue, was it not? No defence.
He would be at the mercy of others. He
was
at the mercy of others. He was
at the mercy of his father.

What mercy
could he realistically expect from that man?

His father
loved Taranis. His son killed Taranis. There would be no mercy.
Tymall ceased pacing. The guards ignored him. He opened his mind to
the intrusion.

And discovered
a new future.

Kallanon
Realm

Queen Abdiah
surveyed her courtiers.

The news they
brought was dire. After leaving the Atrudis War behind, she came
here, to this small and uninhabited planet on the edge of the
Realm. From here she hoped to view the situation and make those
hard decisions a queen was sometimes forced to make. She could do
so from this vantage without the others knowing she was in the
region. Her brief, upon leaving the Realm, was to find the Light
and bring it home. She would bring peace eternal.

She
failed.

Thus she
stayed away. Her failure would renew the ages of war, and this time
she doubted there was enough Light to overcome the Darkness. She
could not afford to wing into her court, not yet.

The news
concerned pockets of uprisings in the outer provinces. They were
isolated, but momentum gathered and soon uprisings would become
full-scale insurrection. It was time to decide.

Either she winged home and attempted to quell the uprisings,
or she returned to that other universe to plead with the One, as
she pleaded with him during the Atrudis War. Actually, she
attempted to bamboozle him, force him and she
had
pleaded, but the man was
stubborn, and he did not quite wield the Light as she thought he
would.

He had another
agenda. He sought the Darkness to fight the Darkness. That was not
healthy for the Kallanon Realm. That Darak Or laid waste to all her
plans. Perhaps she should fight the Darak Or for him. Perhaps a
victory there will bring on the Light they desperately needed.

The Kallanon would war into extinction if it did not change.
Dragons everywhere had to
see
and
touch
and
know
there was an alternative to war. Ages of mind-set
could be undone if the Light was strong. There was no choice then,
was there?

Abdiah gave
the command, and they lifted off for the One’s homeworld.

Elsewhere

Blentar Moon’s
refugee camp was full.

Volunteer
pilots from Xen, Beacon, and even Ceta, slept in their ships on the
small concourse ready to ferry the press of people back to Valaris
when the all clear sounded. There was enough food and water for a
month. It was hoped the evacuation would not stretch longer than
that.

The Dome
orbiting Glorium was empty. Gren had taken his evacuees to ground
and the Sagorin made them welcome. They could stay for months, but
it was hoped the confrontation on Valaris would not be that
protracted.

The caves in
the Steps were packed with Valarians, from the young to the old.
Phet kept the peace simply by being himself. He had stocked well
and foresaw no difficulty in supply, but lack of sunlight could
undo even the sanest mind. Phet hoped and prayed for a swift
resolution, and wished with all his heart he was in Torrke with
Torrullin.

The Lifesource
Temple overflowed, but Quilla had also planned well. He moved among
his charges with a sunny disposition and kept everyone calm.

Elsewhere
human leaders had prepared shelters underground. Those deemed
imperative to survive - doctors, farmers, and teachers and so forth
- were already ensconced, while space was left for those who would
flee underground should it come to that. There were many of those
shelters in every city and town.

In the
countryside, those homes that did possess something similar were
shared with those that did not. Folk went about their business with
a sharp eye on the heavens and the surrounding countryside, ready
to flee at a moment’s notice.