The Witch (7 page)

The sword.

Damn, it called to her. So loudly she almost covered her ears.

And no one else heard it?

Finally she pulled her eyes away from it. She looked at the man holding the sword. He was waiting for her to see him, wasn’t he?

She tilted her head, a small acknowledgement for him to see. To understand. It was all she could manage, seeing him. To see his soul burning from his true body.

In that first lifetime, she had long known who he was to her. Dekimos, the mate the Four Fates had chosen for her back then. Had she not fallen, had
he
not fallen while she lay dying nearby, they would have loved each other forever.

But that was not to be. Still…they had both known. From the summer of her sixteenth year. He had just been waiting for her to reach the age of adulthood…something that had never happened. And she had known, and had not appreciated. Until what could have been was long lost.

“Oh, Deki…” Tears filled her eyes and ran down her face unchecked.

His eyes closed and he sent the sword swinging through the air again. Someone screamed.

The sword came to rest at her feet, the stone floor impaled by the blade.

The man got down on his knees in front of her. She heard the shocked gasps of the handful of people watching.

He looked up at her. “Nelanora. I have waited long for your return.”

“Jushua? What is going on? I heard someone scream.” His mother had come running from her suite half-seconds after the screams. But she was too short to see much in the room of the Druid girl.

Jushua wrapped a hand around his mother’s good arm and pulled her in front of his chest where she could see what was happening.

Deki was on his knees in front of the girl. Everyone stared.

His brother’s words had his mother shaking and sobbing. Jushua held her up. What had Deki said?

And then the name registered. Nelanora.

That was when it became clear to him who she was.

The second to last daughter of the Nellanas had been
Nelanora
.

Jushua had left her body to burn beneath the sorcerer’s flames because he’d been unable to carry her with his mother and sister. He had never forgotten how she had looked, dead on his family’s ground. He had just left her there. Along with so many others who had mattered to him.

He’d felt guilt over that for a long time.

The girl’s hands were on his brother’s shoulders. Deki stood and towered over her. What had Deki meant?

“Eighty lifetimes have passed for me. I saw you dead, Deki. How is it that you’re not?”

“We will speak of that later. You were reborned.” Deki touched her cheek, so reverently that Jushua felt his throat burn with emotion.

“I was cursed. I live, I die. I am reborn. Yet unlike the other souls of rebirth, I remember. I don’t forget anything, from any lifetime. And I grieve. I grieved you.”

“And I grieved you.” Her hands were now on his chest.

Jushua stepped further into the room. He guided his mother to a chair. She was staring at the girl with fear, joy, grief, and hope.

The girl had not looked at his mother, yet.

Jushua was filled with the memory of the girl she supposedly had been. She’d been blonde, with the same eyes as her mother, dark purple and large. She’d been one of the most beautiful of the Nellana daughters, which was saying a lot. She had some seriously beautiful sisters five thousand years ago. But she had been so young when she died and her full promise had gone long unfulfilled.

And Deki had waited for her? Why?

What had happened between his brother and the girl she had been?

The girl stepped back from his brother.

Deki stood tall and straight before her.

Jushua was struck by how the two of them looked together. By the expression on her face. His brother’s face was turned from him. Jushua moved, going behind the witch.

There was so much suffering and sorrow on his brother’s face that Jushua suddenly found it hard to breathe.

From the way his mother had told it, Deki died before she faced the Dark Sorcerer. She’d seen his body beneath the trees. Then the sorcerer had attacked her and the two young girls.

So how had their blood nourished his brother who’d died so far away?

Questions. There were still questions, even to this day.

And Dekimos refused to speak of it with Jushua.

Dekimos took her hand in his, and placed it on the hilt of the sword.

Anger filled him at the ease with which his brother touched her. He shifted from foot to foot, barely resisting the urge to yank her away from Dekimos.

The sword burned beneath her touch. Glowed.

He heard the surprise that went around the room, and then the occupants went to total silence.

The girl pulled the sword from the floor, and it wept.

Before his eyes, the cold metal of the blade wept tears of something. The droplets ran from the sword and pooled at her feet.

Pooled red.

What in the three hells?

**

Home.

The sword wept, and Loren knew her own tears mingled with its.

The sword of Estacles. Returned to her, like he had said it would. In the hands of the man who had once been her destiny. Such an event almost deserved more ceremony, didn’t it?

She looked at him. “Thank you.”

“My brother placed it within my hands, and I held him as his soul married itself to the blade. I have guarded and kept him with me all of these days. Until I could return it to the one to whom it truly belonged. My task is finished.”

Did that mean he was going to…? “Your tasks have just begun, Deki. Surely you see that. I need you. I think we all do.”

“Destiny will take me where it takes me.”

“As the Four Fates will guide my own steps.” She looked down at the deceptively simple sword. Estacles hadn’t been a very showy person. He’d favored intellect more than flash. His sword reflected that, though it was made from material more fine and expensive than any that could ever be found in Gaia. No jewels adorned the hilt, just an intricate rope design that the old soul within her recognized as representing the four strands of destiny. “Thank you.”

“He gave his life for that sword, for you. I have never forgotten that. Use it well.” Dekimos covered her hand with his. “I will be watching, if you have need of me.”

What else more could she say?

She was not to be his lover this lifetime. That girl meant for him was lost a long, long time ago.

And as soon as he’d touched her, they’d both known it.

And Loren ached for what might have been.

She looked up, at the people in the room with them, and her gaze landed on Jushua. Dekimos’ brother and something in her shifted a little.

Frightened her.

She pushed it away. She had to. She just had to.

Loren looked at her. Blonde hair, warm gold eyes, the smile shared by most of her sons. Eaudne had changed, of course, but the woman Nelanora had known was definitely still right there.

What was she supposed to say to the woman she had died beside? So Loren said nothing.

Eaudne held out a hand to her. Loren looked at it—Eaudne’s arm was scarred—in the shape of a hand. The Dark Sorcerer’s doing, no doubt. Eaudne laid her hand on Loren’s shoulder, but she did not force an affectionate greeting on Loren. Nelanora had known her, but Loren really had not. And that confused her. No doubt it confused Eaudne, too.

“I am sorry I let you down that day. I…”

Loren shook her head. It had not been Eaudne’s fault Nelanora had fallen. “You didn’t. Things happened the way they were supposed to that day. To think differently will drive you nuts—make you insane.”

“Why have you returned now?” Eaudne limped over to the couch and sank down. How badly had she been injured that day? How had she lived, anyway? Nelanora had fallen just after Eaudne had, hadn’t she? Apparently Eaudne’s blow hadn’t been fatal. Not like Nelanora or young Pin’s?

How horrible for Eaudne, to see her young child killed that day. Compassion filled Loren and had her following Eaudne to the couch. She sat, and took Eaudne’s hand in her own. “I am not sure why I’m back now. I just know I am supposed to be. This is not the first time I have been reborned. I have lived every generation since that day.” She did not mention the Dark Sorcerer’s words to her before he cut her down that day. That was not something Eaudne needed to hear. “I know that this is where I am supposed to be, so this is where I am. The Fates decreed it.”

Eaudne rocked slightly. Loren was conscious of the people around them. Listening. Dekimos and Jushua were there if this proved to be too much for Eaudne.

The older woman just looked so…weak. Fragile. Frail and vulnerable. Had she been that way for five thousand years?

Damn the Dark Sorcerer for what he had done. Damn him.

“Yes, I am sure they did.” Eaudne smiled softly. “You…Nelanora, I mean, she was not so certain she believed in the Four Fates.”

“I do. Nelanora is a part of me, but she is not all that I am, either. I am many people. In this life I am called Loren. But I always possess the knowledge of my past lives.”

“Sometimes all you can cling to is knowledge of the past. Don’t forget that.”

“I never will.” Something passed between them, and Loren knew they would one day speak of this again. But not now.

“Don’t ask why I’ve returned now, Aunt. Just rejoice that I have.”

“You are as beautiful as you were then. Your mother—“

Loren shook her head. “Nelanora’s mother. This is my mother, right here.”

Eaudne smiled, first at Loren’s mother, then at Loren. “I suppose to the
you
of now, that’s true. I will have to remember this.”

On that Loren was firm. Never before had she met someone from a previous life while in a current one. It was definitely more than a bit weird. “Yes. This is my mom, her name is Renee.”

“I have thought of you so often. More so than some of my own daughters at times, it seems.”

“Perhaps your heart recognized that I would return.” Or more likely they were so connected because they had been together that day. The magic that had been used against them would leave a residue. Especially when it was that strong of a magic, a curse even when wielded by a madman.

Why wouldn’t she and Eaudne still be connected?

“Perhaps. And now your return just adds to my hope.”

Loren stared into Eaudne’s eyes, seeing so many memories—both good and terrifying—reflected there. She swallowed, then spoke. “Sometimes, Aunt, that hope is all we have left.”

She knew that was all that had driven her this far.

“So…guess this means no more slumber parties and girls’ nights out,” Jade asked.

Loren looked at her friend. After everyone had left the suite she’d been given—including her mother, who’d gone with Becca to meet Becca’s mate—Jade had stayed. Loren knew there would be questions. “No. No more.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me? I understand a few years ago, but this past one? After I found Barl?”

“It was not my path to tell you any earlier. Jade—” How was she to put it? “If I have known anything in my lifetime—lifetimes—it’s that destiny can change with just one poor choice. And when I’m faced with the right one, I always know. And it wasn’t the right choice to tell you earlier. I needed to be here, this way, and you didn’t need too much information about the Dardaptoan world before you found Barlaam. That’s the way it was supposed to be. Why, I don’t know. Yet.”

“Eaudne was a wreck. How are you supposed to deal with her?” Jade went right for one of the hardest questions; something that didn’t surprise Loren in the least. Jade had never shied away from the more difficult in life.

“Eaudne lost so much that day. There has to be hope that more will return to her. Yet she’s afraid of that hope, because of what loss it may bring if it is false.” Loren had loved Eaudne like the beloved aunt she had seemed. Close enough to be an almost mother. She had been right there next to Eaudne when the attack had started, had carried Eaudne’s youngest child in her own arms when they’d run through the palace.

She had seen with her own eyes the bodies of her first mother and father, her younger sister, and so many of the others.

And then they’d found Eaudne’s mate and some of her sons. Her daughters.

Loren, no matter what her life was, had always seen Eaudne’s suffering in her dreams.

She had never forgotten the pain of loss on the woman’s face.