Authors: Chelsea Quinn Yarbro
Riast shook his head emphatically. “You mean I should allow the Court to flee? Tiumboj should be abandoned?”
“I would recommend that the Court move to a safer location,” Kloveon ventured. “I would not like any harm to come to your mother, or wife, or family.”
“Or the Duzeon,” said Riast.
Kloveon said nothing for several heartbeats, then said, “You’re right, Emperor. I would never want Erianthee to come to harm on my account.” He went silent again, glancing at Erianthee. “What troubles me the most is the possibility that whatever is gathering against Tiumboj might not be armies but other forces, things much worse than armies.”
“How do you mean?” Riast inquired.
“As I came here, I passed through Yveth.”
“The plague city?” Erianthee asked, appalled.
“It’s a ruin now,” Kloveon said, as if that diminished the risks.
“The plague began as a conjure-fever, as I recall,” said Riast. “And that means you think that some of the peril we face may be magical.” He stared blankly at the fire, musing on the possibilities. “Could a conjure-fever last long enough to damage Tiumboj?”
“It is nearly winter,” said Kloveon. “There will be illness to strengthen the conjure-fever, and that will cause it to last longer than usual.”
“Is that what you learned from your spy?” Riast asked, this time more sharply than before.
“No, not from the man who died. He was so . . . badly hurt that I asked him very little. He didn’t venture to guess what might be coming. But with dire thoughts for company as I came here, it seemed to me that magic must be part of it.” Kloveon waited for the Emperor to speak.
Riast raised his voice and called out, “Have Therin Romonaj bring Yulko Bihn to me, so that he may determine the extend of magical interference we currently face. This order comes with urgency.”
The door opened and the guard respected Riast. “The page is here, Emperor, and will hurry to complete your commission.”
When the door was closed, Erianthee said, “If you will permit, I will leave you to consult with your Court magician, Emperor. There is some awkwardness for me when I meet with Yulko Bihn.”
“If you must depart, then do so,” said Riast. “I know the history of Yulko Bihn’s duel with your father, so many years ago, and I will not expose you to any disgruntlement now.” He waved her away as she got to her feet and made a profound respect. “Thank you for insights, Duzeon Erianthee.”
Kloveon watched her as she went toward the door. “Duzeon? Will you permit me to visit you while I’m here?”
“Certainly. One of the pages will guide you to me.” She let herself out of the Imperial Study. As she made her way up and down staircases, along corridors and galleries, making her way back to her quarters, she pondered what it was that Kloveon suspected that he would mention the conjure-plague. Did he truly think such a calamity was possible, or was he only trying to gain the good opinion of Riast for some less obvious reason? She knew he was pleased to see her, and she felt herself drawn to his appealing smile and engaging charm as she had been for the last four years, but she doubted that he had any intention to attempt to secure her affections while he was here at Court. If she could be more certain that he truly loved her, she would feel easier about his presence. She chided herself for having such girlish dreams about Kloveon, for Fauthsku in the southeast of the Porzalk Empire, had few dealings with Vildecaz, beyond the Empire’s northwest borders, and it was her duty to take as an official suitor someone who could benefit Vildecaz as much as he would be pleased to secure her affection.
She went into her apartments and discovered Rygnee affixing small, deep-blue pearls to the neck of Erianthee’s new serinel. Looking up, she set her sewing aside to rise and respect Erianthee. “Duzeon.”
“Rygnee.” She went to the window. “Will you be good enough to pour some wine for me? I find I am somewhat ill-at-ease and would like to relax before I perform this evening.” She was able to smile, not broadly, but enough to keep Rygnee from worrying, or so she hoped. What, she asked herself, had Kloveon got himself into? She was certain that whenever he had come upon the conspiracy, it wasn’t eleven days ago, and the man who died had not come to him by happenstance.
“Are you ready to perform again so soon? You look a little fatigued, Duzeon – are you ready to present another Shadowshow?” Rygnee asked as she went to pour the wine, removing one of the fine bottles in the cabinet opposite the fireplace. “I’m sure the Emperor would excuse you if you need rest.”
“It wouldn’t improve the state of affairs for Vildecaz if I should do such a thing,” said Erianthee. “A glass of wine and an hour’s nap should be enough to take the strain off the evening.” She didn’t let herself think about Kloveon.
Rygnee brought the glass of wine to her, but held it as she spoke. “You do Vildecaz no good if you perform poorly, either. Tell me you will consider what you are to do, so that you won’t summon the Spirits of the Outer Air while you are exhausted.”
“I will consider it,” said Erianthee, claiming her glass of wine. “I’m going to read, and then lie down. Wake me in an hour and a half – have a bath ready for me, and a light repast.” She was about to close the door between her bedchamber and sitting room when she added, “If any visitors come, wake me, if you would.”
“Is there someone you expect?” Rygnee asked, surprised at this addition to her instructions.
Erianthee sighed. “I wish I knew.”
* * *
On the morning after the last night of the full moon, Ninianee woke in the small room Hircaj Chogrun had allotted to her and Doms Guyon. She was naked as she always was upon returning to her human form. She was lying on the bed under three heavy blankets, each lined with tongue-satin. As she stretched, her hand brushed a head on the pillow next to hers. She felt the features, although she knew who this must be. Now she was fully awake, and she sat up, blankets wrapped against her, staring at Doms, who gave every evidence of being still asleep. How much of the night had they lain together, under the same blankets? Why would he do anything so hazardous? In the name of the Six Founder Gods and Goddesses, what had she done that he would lie beside her while she was a Crag-lion? Official suitor Doms might claim to be, but this was unseemly. She looked about for her clothes and found them hanging on pegs near the door, and wondered if she should make a scramble to retrieve them. As she started to slip out of the bed, she felt Doms’ arm go around her thighs, and she froze.
“This is much better than the Crag-lion,” he murmured, pulling her back down into the bed.
Much to her surprise Ninianee didn’t resist him, but allowed herself to be drawn into his arms. “Did you sleep next to the Crag-lion?”
“Of course I did. We were both tired. You had been very active, running along the gallery, climbing the cabinets, and chasing invisible prey until well past midnight. For the last two hours of the night you have slept beside me, here. Don’t you remember? You stretched out along my side, somewhat like what you’re doing now.” He let her make herself comfortable against him. “You were much more human last night than you were the night before or the first night of the full moon.”
She felt herself wince, but said, “I usually am more myself on the last night, as I told you.” Her hands were trembling a little, so she closed them into fists to steady them. “What made this necessary? Why did we share a bed?”
“We were tired,” he said with a maddening lack of fluster.
“But Crag-lions are dangerous,” she reminded him, unnerved by his self-possession. You took a great chance – “
”Hardly that,” he said, his words more gentle than she could remember ever hearing. “You didn’t hurt me last night, not while you raced and roamed, and not while we slept,” he said, anticipating her question, hoping she would relax at last. “If you let yourself think back, you will know I was never in any danger – “
“Would you tell me if I had?”
“Hurt me? You can look for yourself,” he said, repeating the offer he had made the previous two mornings. “I never thought you would harm me, Ninianee, Crag-lion or gigantic mouse, or any other creature.” His voice became softer. “You purred when I stroked you.”
She had a fragment of memory of his hand on her head, moving down her sinuous back, her spine tingling, a rumble in her throat that had nothing of a growl in it. She knew she had rubbed against his legs, and held up her chin for his sorcerous fingers. He had spoken to her, and a few of the words had remained with her – if we could never be parted; I wish you would trust me; we are linked, you and I; and nothing you become would ever appall me, for you are Ninianee, always Ninianee, no matter what form you take. “I think I recall a little.” This time when she shivered, it wasn’t from cold.
“I meant everything I said to you, and would say it to you again, if it would improve your memory.”
“We could be overheard,” she whispered, certain they were being watched.
“Fine! A grand idea,” he said. “Let everyone in Chamirjen Castle bear witness that I am pledged to you, as official suitor and intended magstelon.” He suddenly drew her close against his chest, his lips pressed to her forehead. They remained that way for a hundred heartbeats, then he released her, and asked mischievously. “Shall I shout it?”
Ninianee was still in a torrent of emotions from his declaration of being her magstelon – after all he had seen these last three nights, how could he want to be her life-mate? “This isn’t the time for such – “
”When that time has come, will you tell me?” Behind his lightness there was another, stronger feeling composed equally of hope and sadness.
“I suppose so,” she said, astonished to realize he was truly serious.
“There is nothing I’d be more gratified to do than to inform the world that you and I are linked physically and ethereally.”
“But we aren’t linked physically,” she said, and wished she had not.
His light eyes lit with inner fire. “When we leave here, that can be rectified, however and whenever you wish.”
Ninianee thought she ought to get out of bed now, that she ought to stop this rush of enthralling words. She sighed, not loudly, for she had to admit to herself that she didn’t want to leave his side. “We have to travel soon – tomorrow, wasn’t it?”
“Chogrun’s banquet is tonight. He may want us to leave immediately afterward, but yes, it is more likely that he expects us to be gone by this time tomorrow. And no, you can’t distract me from my purpose. Whatever I am, for as long as I am, I am given to you, if you will have me.”
She blushed. “But I don’t think that it’s necessary to announce it here.”
“I already have,” he said, and took her face in his hands to kiss her. It was a thorough kiss, tantalizing and persuasive, and she feared she would dissolve into him, for she no longer had the will to hold him at arms-length, for half of her doubts about him had faded in the long hours he had remained with her Crag-lion self. As he released her, he said, “One day, if Agnith and Zaythomaj are kind, you will say the same to me, because it is what you want most in the Great World.”
“If I come to that time, I will promise to you what you have promised to me.” She studied his face as she fought off her welling doubts. “But don’t press me, Doms. Don’t.”
“I’m a very patient man,” he said, and kissed her quickly and lightly before he smoothed the glorious mess of her hair back from her face. “I know you’re a treasure beyond reckoning – Agnith’s Treasure can be no greater than your . . . affection, and more than affection. I’m willing to wait.” He stroked her arm, and pulled her up against him again, skin to skin from their chests to their calves. He pressed his erection against the top of her thigh, then turned slightly away from her. “Don’t fret, Ninianee – I can wait for this, too.”
To hide her unexpected disappointment, she said, “Until the Crag-lion is completely gone?” The intensity of her desire startled her. She had broken with her last lover almost two years ago, and had been content to live her life without sexual love. But this morning with Doms had rekindled needs in her that she had assumed had faded. She knew now that was not the case, and that her twenty months alone had only whetted her appetite.
“No, Ninianee, until we’re gone from Chamirjen Castle, when we have time and privacy.” He ran his thumb along her nipple and felt it stiffen. “I don’t want to be rushed.”
“That is worth waiting for,” she said, still perplexed by her response to him. Why was she acquiescing so readily to his blandishments? Why couldn’t she turn away from him in spite of her attraction – she’d done it easily enough before. Her awakened desire was not cause enough for her to expose her feelings to him – admitting that she had so much passion for him was frightening enough. Then she gasped. That was before he had seen her Change, when there was always the possibility that he wouldn’t want her if he knew about her Changing. Now things between them were entirely different, and would never be as they had been again.
“Ninianee,” he said, and this time their kiss was full of promise and anticipation. As they moved apart, he dropped his voice. “I may not be able to wait much longer if you continue to – ”
“There’s always tonight,” she heard herself say.
He chuckled and laid his hand on her arm. “We have a banquet tonight, both welcome and farewell, one that Chogrun is sure to make an occasion of our departure. It might be best to observe courtesy. Once we’re gone from here, we can spend a day or two alone.”