Angelaeon Circle 2 - Eye of the Sword (38 page)

The day after arriving at Redcliff, Trevin climbed the stairs to the top of the highest tower of the palace. From the parapet he watched a group of settlers journey east across the valley. The weather was sunny and windless but cold, and he drew his heavy cloak tight.

Walking the skies with Windweaver, circling Redcliff, he had sensed that the royal city was the hub of a great wheel. Now he sensed the spokes of that wheel as he paced the square roof, gazing over the walls in each direction. One spoke stretched north to Eldarra, one west to the Durenwoods, one south to Qanreef, and one east. To the Dregmoors.

He stared at the eastern horizon, his shoulders tense. In the depths of his being, he knew he was destined to go back to that land of cliffs and caves.

“I’ve found you.” Melaia stepped out of the stairwell. “You’re at the top of the world today.”

Trevin took her hand. “Not until you arrived.”

She looked toward the valley. “While you were up north, I came here often, thinking of you, hoping for your safe return.”

“I did return one day. With Windweaver. We stood in this very place, and I heard you play your harp.”

“It wasn’t my imagination, then. I heard a question on the wind:
What do you seek?
”

Trevin chuckled. “That was Windweaver talking to me.”

“What did you answer?”

“I didn’t. I didn’t know what to say. Not until later.”

The wind gusted, and Melaia pulled her cloak snug. “What did you answer later?”

“I told Windweaver I sought myself.”

“Have you found yourself?”

“I have.” Trevin drew her into the folds of his cloak. He thought of his image in the eye of the sword. “I’m competent, reliable, persistent, confident, and hopeful.” He grinned at her. “Also quite attractive.”

“And terribly humble,” said Melaia.

“I’m working on that part,” said Trevin.

Melaia gave a mock sigh. “How can I hope to ever be worthy of your affections?”

“It’s I who have been striving to be worthy of you.”

“You know my vow about you still stands now that Varic is gone. My father may not approve of me pledging myself to anyone except royalty, but—”

“Perhaps your father is right.”

Melaia pulled away. “What?”

“You deserve only the best. I think you should pledge yourself to someone who is an heir of not one but two thrones.”

She stood there, shivering. “Trevin! You can’t mean it!”

He drew her back into his cloak. “Take me for example. I’m the son of the warrior angel Arelin, also known as the Asp.”

Her jaw dropped. “Son of the Asp? An angel? So you
are
Nephili, just as Livia suspected.”

“I may be rather like Jarrod.”

“How?”

“My mother is an immortal. Stalia.”

Melaia’s eyes widened.

He held her astonished gaze, trusting she would understand that he felt as appalled as she did. “Stalia called me
son
, and my memories tell me she’s right.”

Melaia studied his face. “But that means Lord Rejius is your grandfather. Benasin is your great-uncle—which makes you related to Jarrod!”

“Which will delight him to no end.”

Melaia laughed, then bit her lip and paled. “Varic.”

Trevin’s stomach knotted. “My brother.”

“But Varic was not an angel,” said Melaia. “No one sensed him.”

“I suspect he was a half brother, maybe adopted. But he knew who I was. Remember on the temple roof? He said, ‘I shall have the throne. Not you.’ I thought he meant the throne of Camrithia, which he would gain by marrying you and denying me the privilege. But he meant the throne of the Dregmoors.”

“So that’s why he was so intent on destroying you,” said Melaia. “He wanted to be heir in the Dregmoors. But
you
are.”

“I’m also heir of the Eldarran throne.”

Melaia frowned. “
That
doesn’t make sense at all.”

“It’s a long story,” said Trevin.

“In that case you should start it now. Maybe you’ll be done before we freeze.”

Trevin began the story atop the tower, but by the time he finished, they were seated on cushions before the hearth fire in Melaia’s apartment. Trevin studied her, smiling. He could be in the most frigid wastes of the north without cloak or fire, and as long as Melaia was with him, he would be warm.

She took his hand. “Two kingdoms will be rightfully yours someday. Eldarra and the Dregmoors.”

“We’re both heirs.” Trevin knelt before her and kissed her soft, scented hands. “Shall we unite our kingdoms, my lady? We don’t have to wait until we’re crowned.”

Melaia knelt facing him. “I have only two harps, Trevin. You know where the third is. I can’t settle. Not yet.”

Trevin searched her dark eyes. “Have you changed your mind about me?”

Melaia slipped her finger beneath the cord that held his harp pendant and eased it out from under his tunic. She matched it to her own, making a heart.

Trevin wrapped his hands around hers as she clasped the heart.

She leaned closer, her eyes holding his. “I’ve not changed my mind. Help me unite the harps. Then I’m yours, body, soul, and spirit.”

He leaned into her clean lavender scent. “Promise,” he said.

“I promise,” she said.

“Again.”

“I promise.”

“Again,” he breathed.

“I—”

His mouth found hers. Silver and gold.

The past lay behind. He was the man in the eye of the sword. And he held his future in his arms.

I’ve never achieved anything without the help and support of friends and family. Many thanks to

friends and faculty of the Vermont College of Fine Arts;

my insightful critique partners,
Helen Hemphill and Wilmoth Foreman;

my husband, Ralph, for his patience;

my agent, Cheryl Pientka,
for believing in my imagined world;

my editor, Jessica Barnes,
who traveled my fantasy world with me and understood.

K
ARYN
H
ENLEY
grew up on myths, fairy tales, and spiritual stories and began writing because she loved to read. She is now an award-winning author with more than one hundred titles to her credit, including books for children, parents, and teachers, as well as CDs and DVDs of original music. She received an MFA in writing for children and young adults from the Vermont College of Fine Arts and has traveled worldwide as an educational speaker and children’s entertainer. She lives in Nashville, Tennessee, with her husband, a jazz drummer. Visit her at
www.breathofangel.com
.