Fate's Star Page 8

  “Come, come,” Wolfe said. “Don’t leave her waiting. What of her voice?”

  Charrin ignored him, pouring the liquid carefully, then returning the pitcher to the table with a slow grace. “Your pardon. I was collecting my thoughts.”

  He took a slow sip of kav.

  Warna settled herself in a chair, her kav in her hand. One of the dogs saw an opportunity and came over, its brown eyes begging. She reached out and scratched its ears.

  “Lady Warna, your voice is pleasant, and you have some basic understanding of breath control and pacing,” Charrin said. “but you lack the training necessary to develop any further. In comparison to other professional singers, yours is, at best, mediocre. Even if you were to undergo training, I fear you would be unable to advance much past a very basic level.”

  Warna nodded, hiding her face in her kav. No more than she expected, to be honest, but it still stung.

  “Well, I thought it was very good,” Wolfe huffed.

  Kalynn was about to protest as well, but Warna just shook her head. “Kalynn, that’s what the minstrel told me too.” She chuckled to ease the shock in Kalynn’s face. “But she also told me that the joy of creating is just as important as perfection of the art. Perhaps more so. And that she’d sing with me anytime.”

  “A human attitude, certainly,” Charrin sniffed. “Of course a human would think as much. With no time to achieve perfection, why attempt it? It’s amazing that they crawled from their caves and learned to walk, really.”

  “Charrin, that is uncalled for,” Wolfe snapped.

  “And rude,” Kalynn said.

  “It is simply the truth.” Charrin made a small dismissive gesture with his hand. “Their lives are as snowflakes, harmless and melting if they fall on your skin individually, but dangerous and deadly as they multiply. They will destroy us all.”

  “Palins and Valltera have lived in peace,” Verice said calmly.

  “Because you are the buffer - and what has that created? A barony rife with half-breeds and—”

  “Charrin,” Wolfe said low and dangerous.

  “I’ll not be silenced,” Charrin cried out. “Why have you come here, Verice? I expected word that you had avenged the attack on your people, but that isn’t the case, is it? Why haven’t you taken vengeance, Verice?”

  “You know why.” Verice’s voice was flat. “If I gather my forces to attack Edenrich, the Black Hills will rise against me. Rumor has it that the Baroness Elanore has turned to the dark arts to create an army.”

  “If that is true, then every one of your dead makes her that much stronger.” Wolfe grimaced.

  “I have no assurances that Summerford or Wyethe would not turn on me as well,” Verice said. “And while King Barathiel of Valltera has never threatened, still, he has eyes on my land as well. So, I hold to my own borders and ward them. The time may come when I can strike at the Usurper, but that time is not now.”

  “Yet the blood spilled cries out for vengeance,” Charrin said hotly. The dogs raised their heads, roused by the rage in Charrin’s voice. “The Ancestors cry out for it. I cry out for it. You take no action, and that human filth sits on the Throne of Palins and mocks all that is fair and noble. Had I my sight, my sword would be in my hand, and his blood—” Charrin was shaking, his face distorted. He jerked to his feet and threw his mug across the roof where it shattered on the stones.

  The dogs sprang up, putting themselves between Verice and Charrin. The one next to Warna shifted slightly, keeping a wary eye on the trembling elf.

  “You must have loved her so very much,” Warna whispered.

  “She was my all,” Charrin seemed to collapse in on himself as he sank to his chair. “She was…” He trailed off. “And now here I am, unable to avenge, unable to even breathe.”

  “I am sorry,” Warna said.

  “How can one such as you understand?” Charrin turned on her, the rage back in his voice. “How can you even comprehend—”

  “It’s a deep physical pain, like a part of your soul is gone,” Warna struggled to get the words out. “A wound no healing can touch, not that it’s healing you want. I’ve tried to put it into a song, but I can’t find the words. My throat closes, my heart breaks, and the tears just come.”

  “How dare you think you know my pain.” Charrin covered his face with his hand. “I have not sung since her death. I do not know if I ever will again.”

  “You will, Charrin,” Kalynn’s voice was firm. “Summer would not wish it otherwise.”

  Charrin turned to Verice. “You could send assassins.” His voice held a compelling note of pleading. “As they did. You could open a portal into the castle, and pour your warriors into their midst, as they did.”

  “Target the innocent, as they did?” Verice’s head came up, his anger clear. “Kill the women and elderly, and strike to maim, as they did? Is your honor completely consumed in your hatred?”

  “Why should it not be so?” Charrin was on his feet again, his voice a pained cry into the night sky. “Is not my life destroyed?”

  Warna feared they’d come to blows. She stood as well, backing away from the two men.

  Verice paused, as if her movement had brought him back. He glanced at her, then away. “This was a mistake,” he said, shaking his head. “We should not have come. Kalynn, Wolfe, I ask your forgiveness, and thank you for your hospitality. Warna will return with me.”

  “Flee, then,” Charrin spat. “Leave my presence, and carry my rage and despair with you.”

  Wolfe shook his head. “Charrin, we’ve tried to help you move past this—”

  “Past this? Forgive this?” Charrin cried out again. “Never, not so long as there is life within me.”

  “A mistake,” Verice repeated. “We should go. Come, Warna.”

  “Is that a command?” Warna asked.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “What?” Verice stopped, taken aback. What had she said?

  “Is that a command?” Warna asked him, standing there with an honest question in her eyes. “Do I have a choice?”

  Verice stared at her as the dogs milled around his legs. Choice? Did she have a—? He opened his mouth to answer, but the words died in his throat. He’d planned to leave her here. But Charrin’s attitude, his rudeness...but now it seemed the safest place for her was at his side. Wasn’t it?

  Yet, she’d taken his insults in stride, they had to have stung, but she hadn’t lashed out at Charrin, hadn’t...she hadn’t let those harsh words dim her light.

  He’d told her that she had a choice, and he’d meant those words, but a strange conflict rose in his heart.

  Warna was looking at him, her brown eyes showing her as puzzled as he was. Wolfe watched intently, his eyes flickering between her and Verice. Charrin’s lips were pressed in a thin line, his head tilted to the side, frowning. Kalynn had an odd half-smile on her lip.

  “Of course you do,” Verice said slowly. “But under the circumstances—” he stopped again. “I should make other arrangements. To keep you safe.”

  “Nonsense,” Wolfe said warmly. “You’ve made it clear that your castle isn’t safe. She’s more than welcome.”

  Verice shot him a quick glare. Trust Wolfe to point out the contradictions in his words and actions.

  “It would be lovely to have you here, Warna,” Kalynn said, that half smile still on her lips. “But it’s your choice.”

  Warna was still staring at Verice, giving him a considering look. He dropped his gaze, frowning, glancing at Charrin. She couldn’t stay here; the atmosphere was too poisonous. To say her talent was mediocre; Charrin was lashing out. Verice felt sick. He’d made a mistake bringing her here, a mistake to expose her to—

  Warna’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Wolfe, Kalynn, I thank you for your kind offer, but I will be returning with Lord Verice.”

  “Well, in that case, I’ll walk you out.” Wolfe said. “You can take the dogs with you.”

  Charrin’s stomach roiled with anger
as he perceived Verice and his pet human disappear down the stairs, dogs in tow. Wolfe followed behind, insisting that Verice take his animals with him. Charrin’s lip curled. All of Verice’s animals, to his way of thinking. How dare Verice, one of the Blood, bring a human here. How dare he express concern for one so—

  “An interesting turn of events,” Kalynn observed.

  Charrin frowned at her. She was watching them depart as well, but even in the grayscale of his perception, her expression was...interested.

  “What was that I heard?” Charrin demanded, his shoulders tensing. His hands were in his lap, but balled into fists. “I heard something. Something in their voices.”

  “Yes,” Kalynn rose and started to pick up the shards in the pool of kav. “Something starting. Something...fragile. A possibility.”

  “That can’t be,” Charrin said.

  “I don’t think they even know,” Kalynn said.

  “You think he cares for her?” Charrin spat, his voice an octave higher than he intended. He struggled to calm himself. “That’s not possible. She’s human. Verice is of a Bearer of the Blood of Tethnar, One of the Founders of the Kingdom of Valltera.”

  “A kingdom that rejected him,” Kalynn said. “and that he rejected in turn. He is of Palins now. By his own choice. Has been for some hundreds of years.”

  “A passing fancy,” Charrin sat back in his chair. “Nothing more.” He snorted. “Imagine thinking she’d have a voice worth anything.”

  “Yes,” Kalynn stood. “As to that, Charrin—”

  “They’re gone,” Wolfe bounded up the stairs, rubbing his hands together, looking smug. “Took the dogs with them, thank the Ancestors. Don’t know why I ever agreed to care for them.” He glanced at the shards in Kalynn’s hand. “Let me help you with that.”

  Ash pan and broom appeared, twirling and hopping up the stairs. Kalynn smiled as they whirled about and the shards themselves danced over to be swept up. “You’re in a good mood.”

  “They took the dogs,” Wolfe said with laugh. “And I may be old, but I recognized the look in their eyes.”

  “Love?” Charrin sat up, his voice sharp.

  “Utter confusion,” Wolfe chortled. “Both of them. They have no idea what’s happening. Pity she decided not to stay. Would have been fun to watch.”

  “So, you think they love?” Charrin demanded, finding new fuel to his rage.

  “How would I know?” Wolfe scowled. “Kalynn’s the seer, not me.”

  “I don’t see into men’s hearts,” Kalynn demurred.

  “Ridiculous,” Charrin huffed. “Verice knows full well the treachery those vermin are capable of. He’d never—”

  Wolfe turned, his face contorted with a rage Charrin had never felt before. Charrin jerked up, suddenly remembering who he had just angered.

  Kalynn held up her hand.

  Wolfe stopped.

  “Charrin,” Kalynn’s voice was curt. “It would appear that you have forgotten my heritage.”

  Charrin grimaced, keeping a wary eye on Wolfe. “Seer Kalynn, I—”

  Kalynn interrupted. “Wolfe and I offered you sanctuary while you were recovering from the assault. I had also hoped to heal your heart as well, but it would seem that will take you more time.”

  Charrin went stiff. “It would seem I have offended you. But—”

  “You have,” Wolfe growled.

  “You were rude to Warna,” Kalynn shot Wolfe a hard glance, keeping her voice low and firm. “Wolfe and I will not tolerate such a lack of courtesy in our home.”

  “I ask your forgiveness,” Charrin said. “I was taken by surprise at Verice’s appearance.”

  “We accept your apology,” Kalynn said.

  Wolfe threw his hands up in the air.

  “But even so,” Kalynn continued. “The time has come for you to take up your life.”

  There was a long moment of silence. For an instant, Charrin felt stricken, bereft. But he straightened, his pride reasserting itself. Clearly, they did not understand his pain, his anguish. He inclined his head. “I’ve had many invitations from the Great Houses. The King of Valltera himself has asked for my services.”

  “It’s time to emerge from your isolation, Charrin. A bard needs his audience,” Kalynn said. “Wolfe will open a portal to aid your journey, wherever you decide to go. By noon tomorrow, shall we say?”

  “I thank you for your care, Lady Kalynn.” Charrin rose. “I’ll withdraw now, and consider my options.”

  “On the morrow, then,” Kalynn watched as he left, his steps slow but certain. “But Charrin—”

  He stopped at the stairs, about to start down.

  “The possibilities swirl around you, Charrin,” Kalynn said. “‘Ware your choices.”

  Charrin didn’t turn back, but headed for the stairs with a slow and steady pace. He’d go, certainly. To where others shared his pain and grief. And would aid him to revenge.

  Kalynn settled back into her chair with a sigh. There was a heaviness within her, a feeling building behind her eyes.

  Wolfe eyed the stairs, waiting a bit before he spoke. “You handled that well,” he said softly. “Better than I would have, that’s certain sure.”

  “Perhaps.” Kalynn shook her head, feeling the heaviness settling on her shoulders. “I’d hoped to help him release his hate. But it festers too deep for my skills.”

  “He lost his love.” Wolfe came up behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders. “That’s not a hurt that heals easily.”

  Kalynn sighed and leaned back into his warmth. “Beloved, a seeing is upon me.”

  She felt him tense then, going serious and still. “What do you need?” he whispered.

  “My sketching supplies,” she whispered back, and heard his movement as the heaviness grew behind her eyes. It washed over her, dragging her down. She felt Wolfe’s hand as he placed parchment and charcoal in her hands before moving the table closer.

  Then the power claimed her, and she knew nothing but the dark visions of fire and horror that emerged from the depths of her mind. Her hands moved. She could feel the grit of the paper, and the fine dust on her fingers.

  When she returned to herself, Wolfe was kneeling at her side with an anxious look and a cool cloth for her face.

  He gave her a moment before he spoke. “What have you seen, flame of my heart?”

  “The time is almost upon us. It will be soon,” her hand shook as she wiped her face.

  “Here,” Wolfe took the cloth, and stoked her cheeks. “Rest first,”

  “No,” Kalynn reached for him and he came into her arms even at that awkward angle. “The time has come and there is that which might be, and that which must be.”

  “One never really knows all the consequences of one’s actions,” Wolfe sighed into her neck, his breath warm on her skin. “For good or ill.”

  Her breath caught in her throat at the weariness in his voice. But then to her surprise, he started to chuckle.

  “Ah, but I know you, Seer.” He pulled back, and gripped her shoulders, looking at her with quiet mirth. “Is that ‘soon’ as a mountain understands time? Or an elf? Or as a fruit-fly would define it?”

  Kalynn shook her head at his mirth. “I know not,” she admitted to his laughter. “But Wolfe, I have seen. This must be.”

  She tapped the parchment, and they both looked at the picture of a man, scarred and horribly burned.

  Wolfe grew even more thoughtful. “This is what you’ve seen?”

  “Yes,” Kalynn confirmed. Bile rose in her throat, but she knew the truth of her vision. “It must come to be. We must make it come to be. If what was lost is to be restored, this must happen. At our hands if need be.”

  Wolfe sighed. “I do not doubt you, Seer.”

  She reached out to cup his cheek.

  “When?” Wolfe asked.

  “I—” she answered without having to think. “There’s time.”

  “How far?” he rose, studying the sketch.

&nb
sp; “Far,” she answered, looking off at the horizon. “Perhaps too far for us to be there in time.”

  “It would help if the visions were a bit more specific,” Wolfe said dryly.

  “It will come when it needs to be,” Kalynn rose.

  “The absence of magic means no portals,” Wolfe said. “We must gather supplies, get out the riding leathers. We’ll get Charrin on his way, and then start preparations. If it can be done, it will be, Kalynn.” He reached out his hand to help her rise. “What brought this to you now, I wonder?”

  “I am not sure,” Kalynn whispered. “But Warna’s been touched by its wings.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Verice always had to re-orient himself to the right time of day and weather when he returned from a visit to Wolfe’s. He blinked in the afternoon light, and tried to ignore Narthing’s raised eyebrow when he emerged from the bakery with Warna, her basket and the dogs in tow.

  “Back to the castle, m’lord?” Narthing asked, as Brindle reared up, planted his forepaws on Narthing’s shoulders and licked his face.

  “Yes.” Verice handed Warna’s basket off to a warrior. The dogs milled about their legs, tongues hanging out. “Warna will return with us.”

  Narthing raised both eyebrows at that.

  “By her own choice,” Verice said.

  Warna flashed them both a smile as she mounted.

  “As you wish, m’lord.” Narthing signaled, and the others mounted as well.

  Verice settled into his saddle, gathering the reins, gesturing them to start. They’d pick up the rest of the company as they rode, retracing their steps back to the castle. He didn’t have to give it much thought; the path and routine was a familiar one. No, his thoughts were free to focus on the woman riding next to him.

  What had he been thinking?

  If the visit to Wolfe’s tower had been a military campaign it would have been a disaster. He’d known that Wolfe and Kalynn would open their arms to her; they offered shelter to any in need, but he should have anticipated Charrin’s rage. He’d been a fool to go there blindly, thinking that Charrin would treat any human well.