The Light Unleashed Page 8

  “I know garlic. You like it, eh?”

  “In a tomato sauce? It’s to die for.” Kyran’s smile catches me off guard. “What are you thinking?”

  His gaze darts away, but only for a moment. “That I’ve not seen you like this before.”

  “Like what?”

  “Relaxed. Happy.”

  I shrug. “We’ve never had the chance to talk like this.”

  “No.”

  We’re quiet for a minute as we each take another bite of our meal.

  Kyran finishes his bread. “What is it you like best in this world?”

  “Best?” I turn to the fire, barely seeing the flames. Instead, I’m trying to think about what, if anything, I like about Ayden. “I like that my mom is so happy.”

  Kyran makes a questioning grunt as he swallows.

  “She was content in the other world, but not really happy. I never realized that until I saw her with Quinn.” Picturing them together makes me smile. “She gave him up to keep me alive. I like that I can help them finally be married.”

  I jump when a voice suddenly pops into my head. Your Majesty?

  Who is this?

  Kyran frowns. “What─”

  I hold up my finger to still him. The voice comes back. It’s Goram, Your Majesty. Your father asked me to call for you. The Assembly is ready to discuss plans with you.

  I let out a long sigh. “They’re reconvening. You ready to get back to work?”

  In answer, Kyran stands, brushes the crumbs from his clothes, then holds out his hand to help me up from the hearth. “Shall we?”

  I’m surprised again at how warm his fingers are when we touch. He seems reluctant to let go. Instead we stand face-to-face in front of the fire. He lifts his free hand to my cheek.

  “You have a crumb.” His fingertip brushes it away.

  I can’t figure out what’s going on. There’s an undercurrent of nervousness between us, but I’m not sure what’s causing it. Is Kyran thinking about what it will be like to be married to me? We’re so different. He’s so much older, more experienced. Is he regretting his decision?

  Your Majesty?

  Goram’s voice again intrudes on my thoughts. Coming. I glance up at Kyran. “We’d better go. Thanks for sharing your lunch with me.”

  He gives me a quick bow. “It was my pleasure, Alystrine.”

  This time when he says my name, I smile. It’s as if he’s getting used to the informality and that makes me glad. We make our way into the more travelled hallways of the castle. “So, what was discussed this morning with the Assembly?”

  “A lot of arguing between who would have control of the army, the Elders or the Commoners.”

  I hesitate. “What do you mean?”

  “Geran wants the Elders to have the ultimate authority. Naill and Rafer are arguing that because the Commoners will make up most of the troops, a Commoner should be put in charge of the overall battle plans.”

  “Where do you and I fit in?”

  He raises an eyebrow. “Truthfully?”

  I nod.

  “We are figureheads. Me, to rally the Commoners to your cause. You, to remind the Elders and Commoners of your mother’s murder, and Braedon’s brutality.”

  I narrow my eyes as I stare at my fiancé. “That’s it?”

  “That’s how they view us, Your Majesty.”

  I growl at him before I ask another question. “Do you have any military experience? I mean, would you feel capable to lead an army?”

  “I spent sixteen years with the Mystics. Every boy’s life revolves around learning to fight, to strategize.” He straightens his shoulders. “I know how the Mystics think, better than any of these men.”

  “That’s what I thought.” I start quickly down the next hallway. “And I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to do more than wave a flag and make a few rallying speeches.”

  Kyran hesitates before running to catch up with me. It’s as if he couldn’t process what I said. “Your father and the Elders will never let you into battle.”

  I turn the corner to the hall that leads to the Assembly Hall. “I don’t think what they want is really going to matter when the time comes.”

  He places his hand on my arm. “Alystrine, no woman is allowed in the army.”

  I stare at him as I struggle to remember I’m not in the world I grew up in, where women went off to war every day. “But I know I’m supposed to.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “An Ovate told me.”

  Kyran snorts. “A Mystic would say anything to put you in danger.”

  I shake my head. “It was more than that. He was seeing a vision. He saw me there.”

  “What did he see?”

  My mind takes me back to my short time with the Mystic Ovates, only a few weeks ago. A Portal, Sigal, had brought me to their sanctuary so she could use the Chrysaline to try and break my will. Turn me into a mindless drone to serve Lord Braedon. Instead, I’d turned the power of the Chrysaline on her, accidently killing her. Ceallach, the red-headed spokesman of the Ovates came to talk to me when she was dead. The memory is clear, as if his words were etched into my brain. “He said I’d ride a silver horse and lead ten thousand soldiers into battle against an army of demons ten times that of mine.”

  Kyran’s face hardens. “It will take a lot more than the word of a Mystic to convince the Assembly you should come near the battle.”

  We stop in front of the Hall. “Well then, I guess Ruahk and I will have to persuade them.”

  The guards announce my arrival and the members of the Assembly scurry to rise. I wish I could tell them to forgo that little bit of protocol, but it’s probably too deep a habit to break. They wait until Kyran and I sit before seating themselves back around the large table.

  We obviously interrupted a conversation between Maris, Oded and the Elder Council. Oded speaks first after we enter. “If Geran can bring Enoch and myself through the passages, we could resume organizing and training our army.”

  Geran folds his hands on the table. “I could bring you both back within a few days. Then the others over the following week.”

  Maris frowns. “You must not exhaust yourself.”

  “I know my limitations.”

  Naill grunts from his chair at the far end of the room. “We will have to wait for this damn snow to melt, and pray that no more comes, before we can begin forming our armies.”

  A general murmur of frustration makes its way around the table. I stifle the urge to raise my hand before I ask, “Won’t the Mystics have to do the same?”

  Naill’s gray hair bounces as he shakes his head. “The Mystics have always congregated in the northwest lands of Ayden. Although there are some dense forests, most of their people live in the warmer plains. The Black Guards will have ridden the message out to their men. They’ve already begun to train for battle.”

  “And the Commoners won’t know anything until the snow melts?”

  Naill and several others nod. “That is correct.”

  “But, if we have another storm, that could be weeks. Maybe even months.”

  “Aye, Your Majesty.”

  In my head, I see visions of boys like Tegan and his friend, Brice, called up to fight in a battle with only half the training of the Mystics they’ll face. “They’ll be slaughtered.”

  The silence around the table confirms the truth of my thoughts. I wait for someone to come up with a different answer, but no one does. “It’s not right,” I insist.

  Rafer, the auburn-haired man who always seems to be at Naill’s side, stands. “What they lack in training, the Commoners make up in sheer numbers. We’ll not bring them out until the Elders and the Lords have had their turn on the field.”

  “What if you could get the word to them sooner? Is there someplace they could train, even in the winter?”

  Rafer folds his hands. “There are areas on the Plains of Sharne that get little snow, but we have no Elderstones or Portals to deliver the message.�
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  “You have me.”

  The Assembly members gasp as one.

  Maris and Geran both stand, but it’s Maris that speaks, “It’s too dangerous, Your Majesty.”

  “Why? Traveling through the passages doesn’t affect me like it does most people. I could bring several of you back today to start spreading the word.”

  Geran’s fist pounds the table. “No. You are the queen, not some foot soldier.”

  I stand to face him. “What kind of queen will I be if I let thousands of untrained boys go into battle for me? When I have the power to help them?”

  Maris puts her hand over Geran’s to keep him from talking. “Alystrine, you don’t understand the risks involved. Remember, the Common Lands are not protected by any Elder power or any Messengers. The Mystics will be able to sense your presence and they will send their own Portals to capture you. You, and Geran if he went, would be held for ransom. Or tortured and killed.”

  I take a moment to swallow my fear before I speak. “I have to do something. What if I only go once a day? Could they sense me that quickly?”

  Kyran rises. “I will go.”

  Everyone’s gaze turns to him.

  “My horse, Braga, is strong. We can ride through the drifts and start warning the people of what’s coming.”

  I shake my head. “It’ll take you days. I can have half these men back to their villages before you even get to one.”

  His eyes are dark and cold as he looks into mine. You cannot risk it, Alystrine.

  I have to do what I can to protect them.

  Kyran’s eyes grow even darker as he seems to try and come up with a better solution. After a moment, his fists unclench. “Quinn can take me.”

  What?

  “Quinn can take me and whoever else would be willing to go through the passages. It’s very unlikely the Mystics would risk an early battle to capture or kill him.”

  “But the wedding─”

  “He will be done transporting Assembly members by the end of the week.”

  My lunch of bread and cheese churns in my stomach. “I don’t like the idea of sending him away so close to his wedding.”

  “Let the Portal decide.” Geran folds his arms across his chest. “We will not force him to go, but neither will we allow you to take this risk.”

  The entire Assembly stares at me. I want to assert my authority as queen and insist I can do whatever I want, but a more rational voice speaks in my head. It’s not Goram’s or Kyran’s, but some part of me I rarely take the time to listen to. Accept their advice. Be patient.

  “Okay.” I sit back down. “We’ll talk to Quinn.”

  Everyone but Rafer seems pleased with this compromise. He frowns before he takes his place at the table and I can’t help wondering what’s disappointed him, the fact that we’ve given Quinn the choice, or maybe it’s that I wouldn’t be going at all.

  .

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Goodbyes

  In the morning I receive a message from Noam asking to speak with me. I send one back, asking to meet him in the chapel so we can talk a little more freely. Tamra sits on the bench nearest the entrance. Never one to sit still, she’s brought a skein of yarn to knit.

  I make my way toward the altar, my leather slippers whispering softly on the stone floor. The stained glass turns the weak sunlight pink and yellow, enough to break up the chapel’s softer shadows, but my eyes are drawn to the corners, still bathed in darkness. Just like my thoughts.

  I take a moment to offer a quick prayer for my father and Quinn, who will begin bringing members of the Joint Assembly through the passages today. I worry for Geran, because he still seems to struggle with the physical demands of being a Portal. It drains him to the point of total exhaustion. Although Quinn jumped at the opportunity to prove his loyalty to the Elders, I’m concerned that the Mystics may target him for his betrayal. I know my mother is worried as well. She wouldn’t look at me after Geran and I presented our problem over dinner. As soon as Quinn agreed to the plan, she’d excused herself from the table.

  “Your Majesty?”

  I turn around to see Noam offer me a quick bow.

  “What’s up?” I walk toward the front row of chairs.

  Noam glances toward the ceiling as he waits for me to take a seat. “I do not see anything.”

  “Sorry, it’s something we said in the Other World. It means, ‘What did you need to see me about’?”

  He sits, leaving an empty chair between us. “Now that Geran and most of the Elders will be leaving the palace, I need to warn you of something.”

  “Sounds ominous.”

  He turns toward the front of the chapel, probably to block Tamra from reading his lips. “Since you have signed the betrothal contract, you must not try to find Tegan. At least not with your own abilities.”

  My stomach churns, like I’ve lurched over the top hill of a rollercoaster. That had been my plan. “But why? With the others gone, who would be able to tell?”

  His voice is soft, but urgent. “I know I warned you before to cease your attempts so you wouldn’t upset your father, but now you need to know the truth.”

  “Go on.”

  “You are officially bound to Kyran. The document has been signed by the leading members of the Elder Council.”

  My knee starts to bounce as if I’ve had too much caffeine. “So?”

  “You and Kyran have both declared yourselves as having an Elder bloodline. This binds the betrothal to Elder Law.” His eyes dart to the back of the room, but Tamra is focused on knitting some socks, not our conversation. Noam’s attention turns back to me. “Elder Law is very specific about the conduct of females bound in marriage. It all comes from their belief that their ancestors were deceived by human women.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “They believe females seduced Ruahk’s Messengers, thus tempting them into sin.”

  “It takes two to tango,” I mutter, ignoring Noam’s confused expression. “I’ve seen what the first Messengers looked like, and I know that wasn’t the case.” Back in Ginessa’s Glade I’d been given a vision of Ayden’s first inhabitants. The Messengers were glorious creatures, awe inspiring. “If anyone was to blame, it was them.”

  “It matters not what you’ve seen. Elder Law is very harsh with regards to a woman’s conduct once betrothed to a man. If she is caught unchaperoned with a man not her husband, she can be banished from the Elder Lands. If it can be proven that she was unfaithful to her husband, she can be put to death.”

  My knee stops bouncing. I feel as though a lead weight has dropped into my lap. “You’ve got to be kidding?”

  Noam shakes his head. “As a queen who has aligned herself with the Elders, your conduct must be above reproach. If any suspicion comes upon your character, you will be brought before the Elder Council to answer the charges. If they decide you have betrayed the Laws of Ruahk, they can strip you of your crown.”

  “That’s it then?” I walk away from him, trying to get a grip on this news. Tamra watches to see if I’m going to give her a command. I ignore her and whisper to Noam. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

  “You didn’t believe Kyran would sign the contract.” I can see the sorrow in his eyes. He keeps his voice low. “I thought there might still be a chance for you to be with the man you truly loved.”

  It takes me a moment to swallow back the tears I want to cry. “I guess not, huh?”

  Noam stands. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty, but at least you know the penalty now. I don’t think Kennis is aware of these Elder Laws. As for Geran, they are so ingrained into our training, it would not occur to him that you did not know them.”

  The altar beckons to me. I make my way over to the pale pool of sunlight at its base, wishing it held some warmth. “Have you been able to find anyone who knows why Braedon’s keeping Tegan? Can anyone get inside?”

  He shakes his head. “My contacts are limited.”

  If I’m not a
llowed to Spirit Travel to try and find Tegan, and my only friend can’t help me find him, how will I ever find out whether Tegan is alive or dead? Frustration twists my stomach. “Got anything else to tell me?”

  “Only that I will be returning to the Elder Lands with Geran.”

  I didn’t think my heart could feel any heavier. “Why?”

  “I must start my training.”

  I can tell he wants to look away, not answer the question he knows I’m going to ask. “What kind of training?”

  Fear flashes behind his eyes before he puts on a mask of bravery. “I am of the age for the army. I must─”

  “No!”

  Tamra flinches at my shout.

  Noam’s voice rises to my volume. “It is only right that I go back to fight with my family.”

  “There’s nothing ‘right’ about it. You’re my only friend.” I stalk down the aisle, Noam at my heels. “Who came up with this crazy idea? Was it Geran?”

  “I go of my own free will.”

  Tamra rushes after us as I storm down the hall toward the stone stairwell. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Believe it or not, I choose this path.”

  “You’re not cut out for battle. You and I both know it. You . . . .” I spy Tamra a few steps behind him. “Leave us!”

  His eyes swim with emotion. “You know she can’t.”

  I smack the wall and the rough stone cuts my palm. Swearing under my breath, I stomp down the rest of the stairs while cradling my injured hand.

  “Your Majesty, please.” Noam calls after me. “Alystrine.”

  The emotion in his cry stops me. It’s bad enough to know I’ll never see Tegan again. But now I might lose Noam in this war, too? I turn to face him, no longer able to keep my tears from falling.

  Noam approaches me slowly. “Do you think any man truly desires to go into battle?”

  I dry my cheeks with the sleeve of my dress, but don’t answer.

  “This is something I must do, for my family, for Ruahk. And for myself. I could not live with myself if I didn’t.”