Second Stone (20 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Dread coursed through Emariya as the wall she’d constructed around herself dissolved into darkness. It was all she could do not to snap her eyes open.

A breathless, masculine whisper floated to Emariya’s ears. “Is it really you?”

“Is it really who?” Emariya asked the young man. He looked to be not much older than herself, and his clothes struck her as a bit odd, but what haunted her most was the longing that filled his eyes.

“I’ve been waiting.” His lips puckered into a definite pout.

“For me?”

“Who else? Of course for you!” He turned away and his shoulders heaved. “We weren’t supposed to end this way. We would have been happy, wouldn’t we?”

The young man’s manner struck Emariya as almost intimate, and guilt flooded her as she got the sense she’d accidentally intruded into his private retreat—or prison. “I’m sorry, I—”

“Sorry! Sorry?” The man interrupted, whirling back toward Emariya. His eyes narrowed. “Valencia Roth doesn’t apologize. Who are you?”

Emariya blinked hard, then whispered, “Her daughter. I’m her daughter.” Now even ghosts were mistaking her for her wayward mother.

A heartbreaking sadness filled his eyes, and then he slowly nodded. “She didn’t wait for me. How long after I died at her brother’s side did she move on?”

“You’re Reid. Rees’s nephew. My grandparents told me of you.”

The man gave a solemn nod. “We were supposed to earn glory. Then we would have wed and been happy.”

She recalled her grandparents story of how Reid had died in a skirmish in the Borderlands. Most likely, she’d come near his final resting place. Did being near the spot where someone died make their spirit more likely to hear her? Emariya chewed her lip. “Why did you come through when I dropped my walls?”

“You sounded like her. I waited. I’ve always waited. She should be able to talk to me, but she’s never come. I’m here. I’m waiting.” His last words came out like a wail.

“I’m sorry.” Emariya wished she knew what to say. This was the man—or what was left of him—that her mother had once loved. “My mother isn’t the way you remember her. You should move on and try to find peace.”

The spirit shook his head. “I wait, here. Forever, I will wait.”

“You’re wasting your time!” Sudden anger took Emariya by surprise. “My mother loved my father. The day she died, her heart was his, not yours. She isn’t coming back for you because she’s waiting for him!”

“Not love. Pull.”

Emariya slammed the walls back up around her. She tried not to think too much about her own claims. As angry as her mother made her, Emariya wanted her father to be happy someday when he went to the afterlife. And that couldn’t happen if her mother wasn’t there waiting for him.

Anguish closed like a fist around her heart. For all she knew, her father had already died. No, he couldn’t have. Could he? Her father would never stand by and watch while his wife committed such heinous acts.

How could she be sure, though? Maybe he didn’t know? Emariya swallowed hard. Her only option to find out was to try and contact her father. But what if she was actually successful? Could she stand to learn that her father had died?

The walls in front of her vibrated but remained upright. Her hand shook as she reached toward the little window in the wall, sliding it open. “Father?”

Her heart thudding in her chest was the only response. “Father?” she called again.

Emariya took a step back and dropped the walls again. A moment later, she froze. Though she could see nothing, there was an unmistakable presence with her, someone familiar, yet unknown.

All at once, the woman whose portrait had watched over her meals her entire life coalesced in front of her. A warm smile spread across her face, lighting up emerald green eyes.

“Emariya Warren. It’s about time.” Her grandmother’s no-nonsense tone was the perfect feminine equivalent of her father’s, putting Emariya more at ease.

“You know me?”

“Of course I do. You’re my blood.”

“Is my father…alive?” Emariya’s lip quivered as she looked at her grandmother, having a hard time believing she was really talking to her.

“Your no-good mother turned your brother against him. He’s alive, but he’s in trouble.” The venom in the old woman’s voice made Emariya gasp.

Relief flooded through her, thankful that her father was at least alive.

“Well go on, you want something. What is it?”

“I need to know how to use our family’s gifts so I can rescue my father.”

Her grandmother frowned, and for a moment, Emariya worried she wasn’t going to help her. Irina narrowed her eyes and said, “If I understand it right, using the Roth’s gift is a matter of opening yourself up to it. Spirits are an external force to you, and you allow us in to influence you. The earth—it isn’t external or internal, it just is.”

“It is what?” Emariya asked, confused.

“It is everything. To fully use the gift of the Warrens, you have to do the opposite of what you do to talk to me. You have to let the energy out. Natural elements are willing to obey your commands, you just have to allow your will to reach out and direct it. Most never learn to let go enough to do more than amplify your standard herbal remedies.”

“Why?”

“Herbs are easier. I think because it’s easy to visualize what you want them to do. You already know what your purpose is when you pick them up. If you light a fire, what do you want it to do?” Irina asked.

“It depends.” Emariya said.

“Exactly my point. A fire might be lit for warmth, or light, or even to destroy. You have to know your purpose before it will hear your demands. It is—by its very nature—neutral. Without knowing your will, it has no idea what you want it to do, so without clear intent, it won’t respond.”

When her grandmother put it that way, it made perfect sense. “Were you able to take it further than simple herbalism?”

Her grandmother shook her head. “No. While I understood it in theory, I never managed to accomplish much power over it. I always thought if we could just learn, we could use it to protect ourselves when the day came.”

“What day?” Emariya asked.

“Emariya, The Three Corners cannot exist apart forever. It’s only a matter of time before the lands begin to fight in earnest for control. Someone has to lead. If the prophecies are to be believed, I think in the end, it will be a Warren who rules.”

“I think it’s already begun.” Emariya’s voice was small, worried.

“Then may The Three be with you. Is it your mother’s fault as well?”

There was no point in lying. “Yes. But if I can get Eltar to stand behind me, I can unite the three lands in peace. But first I need to rescue my father. It seems being united is inevitable now. Our only options are peace, or war. I’m hoping for peace.”

“Your father will not forgive you if you lose the war just to save him. Remember what you are really fighting.”

“What am I really fighting?”

“Perception.”

“Do you know anything about the prophecies?”

Irina’s eyes narrowed. “When the seeds of prophecy are sown, they often grow to be more than intended. Worry less over old words and more over how you are going to face your brother.”

Emariya opened her mouth to speak, but her grandmother cut her off. “Go, child. Your prince awaits.”

––––––––

Emariya glanced between the expectant faces crowded around her in Torian’s tent. Her eyes moved silently between Torian, Garith, and Rink before at last they lingered on Jessa. She had to resist the urge to remind Jessa that anything they discussed was just between them.

“I contacted my father’s mother last night.” Emariya watched the admiration tinged with concern mix on her friend’s faces.

“Your mother didn’t get through, though, right?” Garith asked, his eyes heavy with worry.

Emariya smiled. “No. Great-Grandmother Carah has her under control.”

“So Blaine’s suggestions helped?” Jessa’s voice carried her curiosity.

Nodding, Emariya said, “Yes. Grandmother Irina said something, and I’m not sure how I feel about it, but I think she is right.”

“Well, go on—what did she say?” Rink asked the obvious question and everyone else laughed nervously.

“She said we’re fighting a war of perception.”

“Perception?” Torian asked.

“I can see what she means,” Garith spoke slowly. “We won Thalmas through perception.”

Torian scowled. “I’m pretty sure we had Thalmas.”

Emariya gently reached out, putting her hand on Torian’s arm, steadying him. “That’s not what he means. Sure, your family rules it, but we didn’t have their full support until we gave them the perception that we would wed. The perception of support by Eltar.”

“Oh. So now we just need to fool Eltar,” Rink said.

“Fool them how?” Jessa asked, her brow furrowed. Under Emariya’s scrutiny, Jessa looked down, picking at the hem of her cloak, avoiding Emariya’s gaze.

“Jessa…we may be traveling with Sheas, but we aren’t with them.” Emariya watched carefully, trying to judge Jessa’s reaction. Had her friend grown closer to Blaine than she’d thought?

“I know,” Jessa said. “I just hope we can stay on the same side.” Her voice trailed off wistfully.

“Me, too.” Emariya smiled, relieved. “And it may not be as difficult as I first thought. That’s where perception comes in. What my grandmother said fits with the plan I’ve been working on. We don’t have to beat Eltar; we just have to convince Sheas that Eltar will follow us. But more than that, we have to convince Master Hendel that we have more strength than he thinks we do. I’ve been thinking about how he treats Blaine.”

At that, Jessa perked up.

“He is definitely hard on him,” Torian said.

“Exactly. And from what I’ve gathered, it’s because he wants to be sure that Sheas will be led by someone with the strength to do what’s necessary. All we have to do, really, is show him that we possess that strength.”

“But you said you didn’t want Blaine’s throne.” Jessa blinked, frowning.

“I don’t.” Emariya sighed.

Torian said, “But if we make Hendel see that we have the strength he admires, and that we can lead, he will perceive us as capable. And then he may be willing to enter into an alliance. He has to see us as more valuable as a friend than an enemy.”

“So how are we going to do that while diffusing the situation at the fjord?” Garith asked.

“They can’t fight if they can’t reach each other.”

Her companions quieted and waited for her to explain herself.

“The fjord is frozen over. If we have to cross a few at a time, the men of the fjord can pick them off, and then Sheas will hold a grudge. If we go all at once, the ice may not be strong enough, and lives might be lost. And if we make it across, Eltar will lose.”

“It’s going to be risky for both sides,” Torian said.

“If we keep them apart, we win. We show that we can do what is necessary, and it buys us the time we need to get into Eltar and convince the people. Hendel will respect a grand gesture to protect both of our sides.”

“But how are you gonna keep them apart? They are ready to rip into one another.” Rink scowled.

“I’m going to melt the ice.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

An uneasy routine slowly formed. Each day, Reeve would collect Terin for a meal together, and she found herself both looking forward to it and dreading it at the same time. She told herself that she only looked forward to it as a time to escape her solitary quarters.

Anxiously, she stared at the door. He should be here soon. Her heart picked up as his boots marched through the hall.

He bowed slightly as he opened the door. “Your Highness.” He flashed a heartwarming smile. Terin wondered where this good mood had come from.

They ate in companionable silence and Terin found herself hoping that perhaps after they ate, he’d take her for a walk through the gardens. He’d been promising to for days now. “Will we take our walk today?” she asked, smiling at him.

“I suppose.” He sounded far away, distracted.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“What? Oh. No. I just have things to tend to. Plans are falling into place nicely.” He flashed her another of his true smiles.

“Plans?” She tried to keep her voice innocent.

“Yes. Plans.” Reeve smirked.

Terin wondered if those plans included their wedding. She’d asked him once why he hadn’t wedded her immediately. He’d responded that he was waiting for the right time to call the Council. He intended for all of Eltar’s leadership to be there so that there could be no question of its validity.

Terin had no intention of marrying him, and she suspected he knew that. Their situation would explode eventually, and she fully expected she would be one of the casualties. She didn’t fear the prophecies like many did, but it didn’t take much to see that Reeve intended to use their combined powers for no good.

Carefully, she shifted her foot, feeling around in her worn traveling boots. There, against her ankle, the hard steel of the knife pressed against her. She’d stolen it from the guard who’d carried her off. She’d only get one chance to use it, and she was determined to make it count. Eventually, Lord Warren would try to take her to his bed. Terin was determined that when he did, at least one of them wouldn’t be leaving it.

Terin tried to contain her frown as Reeve pushed his half-full plate away.

He doesn’t appreciate the things he has,
she thought. Food was precious to the people of Thalmas; seeing him waste it so carelessly left her heart hurting for those of her people who might starve.

“Is something bothering you, Your Highness?” Reeve asked, sounding like he honestly wanted the answer.

“You are throwing away so much food!”

“Would you prefer I send it to be eaten by the dogs?” He honestly seemed confused, not sarcastic.

“I’d
prefer
you share it with the people of Thalmas who are starving!”

Reeve shrugged. “They aren’t my concern.”

Any affection she’d built for him fled in that moment. A solitary tear forged its way down her face.

“Shall we walk today?” Reeve asked, almost like a peace offering.

“Sure,” Terin mumbled, wondering why he even bothered trying to be pleasant to her. He obviously didn’t care about anyone other than himself.

Pushing away her empty plate, she stood and allowed Reeve to lead her from the room. Her body didn’t get the message that she intended to remain angry at him. As his arm brushed against her, she felt a familiar pull toward him. Damn the Stones.

Her hand trembled.

Reeve stopped suddenly, moving closer to her in the narrow corridor. “This is new for me, as well.” His voice was thick. “I never expected to…”

He leaned toward her as his words trailed off. Terin instinctively lifted her chin. Did she want him to kiss her? Her mind scrambled, trying to decide how to react. She’d been furious with him in the dining hall, but something about him called to her on a deeper level.
Yes
, she decided. She did want him to. Nervously, she took a tiny step toward him.

Her eyes were locked on his lips as he slowly bent his head. They looked as if they might be made of soft, well-cured cloth. So smooth and inviting. Her own lips parted and their eyes met. She begged him with the most sultry look she could muster. Oh, but it was agonizing torture, having to wait for him to cross that final threshold left between them.

Insistent footsteps scurried in their direction. Swallowing hard, Reeve stepped back, turning away from her as Khane and a man Terin didn’t recognize came around the corner. Khane had helped one of her own guards bring her here from Castle Ahlen. Terin’s eyes narrowed furiously. There were few people she liked less.

The third man’s eyes roved over her hungrily, and he licked his lips. She was surprised his tongue wasn’t forked—it would match his oddly parted hair. The weasel-like little man hunched his shoulders like a snake coiled to strike.

“Jaryl, Khane. What is it?” Reeve’s annoyance left his voice thick and heavy.

Was he annoyed at being interrupted, or annoyed with them specifically?

Khane looked at her before turning his attention back to Reeve. “They are moving faster than we expected. They should reach the Borderlands within a day or two.”

“Do we know anything else? Any further letters?”

“No, Your Grace,” the second man said, the one Terin assumed must be Jaryl. Even though he was speaking to Reeve, his eyes never stopped leering at her.

“She’s
mine
, Jaryl. Don’t get any ideas.” Reeve’s tone was suddenly darker than she’d ever heard it.

“O’ course not, Your Grace,” Jaryl said with a sly smile.

Terin wondered at the strange address. She’d thought Reeve’s proper title was Councilor Warren. She shrugged it off.

Reeve turned to her. “I’m afraid our walk will have to wait. Another time, Your Highness?”

Terin nodded, trying to curb her disappointment. Their leisurely pace gone, they headed down the corridor.

For once, she was grateful to see her chamber. Being around Khane’s creepy companion was definitely worse than being locked alone in her room.

As his footsteps started away from her door, her ears picked up their continued conversation.

“We’ll need t’ move your father. It wouldn’t be wise t’ have him here if your sister does return.” Khane’s voice was low, but not low enough that she couldn’t hear.

“Keep your voice down! Do you want someone to hear?” Reeve reprimanded him.

Too late
, Terin thought as she leaned against the door, trying to hear more. She could no longer make out distinct words—they’d probably gone too far—but she thought she detected an apologetic tone from Khane followed by Jaryl’s laugh.

Reeve’s father was here? But where? And more importantly,
why?

If her brother and Emariya were nearly to the Borderlands, they must know by now, right? Terin tried to recall the maps of The Three Corners. The Borderlands were close to Warren’s Rest, as far as she could remember. A surge of hope rose within her as she realized her brother was only a few days away. He was coming for her, as she’d known he would. He might manage to get her away from here, but he’d never truly save her. It was too late. She was falling for Emariya’s brother regardless of how much she hated him, and there wasn’t a thing either of them could do about it. She’d written herself off as hopeless.

But Emariya’s father was here, too, and it might not be too late for him. If only she knew where he was exactly. And then there was the issue of being locked perpetually in her own chamber. Some rescuer she’d make.

A key jangling in the lock jerked Terin out of her thoughts. She’d been so lost in thought that she hadn’t heard anyone approach.

Her heart sank when the door thrust open, revealing Jaryl lurking in the hallway. “Come,” he said. “He wants you.” With her heart pounding, Terin tried not to think about what it might be that he wanted. Why had he sent Jaryl for her instead of coming himself? Even Khane would have been better than Jaryl.

Jaryl dropped his key ring into his pocket and led her through the dimly lit corridor. Each step left her feeling closer to defeat. Would this be it? Had he decided to take her to bed? Would she kill him this night? Or would she kill herself?

Terin eyed the end of the hall. She recognized the door to Reeve’s chamber from one of the tours he’d given her.

Keeping her head high, she resigned herself to the end, knowing that, at the very least, this night would end in blood.
Me or him, me or him
, she chanted to herself.

Three steps from the door she took a deep breath, steadying herself.

Terin cried out in pain as she was roughly shoved against the wall with Jaryl’s hand at her throat and his voice in her ear. “Maybe when he’s done, I’ll have a romp with you. You make him happy, you hear me? He isn’t the worst you could face, and if you and him don’t do exactly as intended, you’ll see what I mean.”

While her mind scrambled to decipher his words, a dark corner of her mind registered the lump pressed against her hand.

She recoiled. Was that his…ew.

Wait, no. Realization dawned.

The keys in his pocket.

Her fingers twitched and she hooked her hand into his pocket, lifting the keys and slipping them into a fold of her gown.

Jaryl must have misunderstood. “Oh, you want that, do you?” His face broke out in a lecherous grin.

Terin closed her eyes and readied a scream.

Warmth splattered across her face, sticky and wet, and the scream ripped from her throat.

“I told you, she is
mine.
” Reeve said, looking like a sculpted, half-naked, avenging god as he forced the words through clenched teeth. He stood absolutely still except his heaving chest, looking like he was struggling for control of himself. Rage hungered behind his eyes as he looked at her, a bloodied knife still clasped in his hand. Finally, he tore his gaze away and they both looked toward Jaryl’s lifeless form at Reeve’s feet.

“He…He…” Terin tried to speak but the words wouldn’t come.

“Shhh. I know.” Reeve crushed her to him. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. Hopefully not even me.” His tortured words sounded like a plea.

Terin nodded, sniffling against him, trying not to look down at the blood spreading on the stone floor at her feet.

“Let’s get Mairi to help you clean up while I deal with…this.” Reeve gestured to the floor. All tenderness evaporated, and Reeve once again became the commanding, no-nonsense lord of Warren’s Rest. “Mairi!” he bellowed, and a few moments later the woman appeared.

Her eyes were wide and she swallowed hard. “Oh, by The Three,” she prayed to herself.

“Take Terin, get her cleaned up and comfortable. Whatever she needs. I suspect I will be occupied for the rest of the evening.”

“I’ll make sure you are not disturbed, Milord,” she assured him as she took Terin by the hand. “Come, dear.”

As soon as they were alone in her chamber, Terin shoved the keys into Mairi’s surprised hands. Her words tumbled out. “I overheard them talking. Lord Oren is here somewhere, but they are going to move him. They think Emariya and Torian may come here soon, and they don’t want him found. You’ve got to help him!”

Mairi’s hands flew to her mouth and then her eyes darkened. “I had no idea he’d fallen so far,” she said sadly. “Don’t fret—I’ll take care of it.”

“You should go now, while they are distracted by Jaryl.”

Mairi nodded. She was almost out the door when she turned, hope in her eyes. “Did you see my daughter, Jessa, before you were taken from the castle?”

Terin gave her an encouraging smile. “Jessa is well.”

“Oh thank heavens.” Mairi breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ll get Lord Warren free. Will you be going with him?”

Terin debated for a minute before shaking her head. “No. He’ll have a better chance of getting away on his own if he isn’t worried about me. Tell him they are almost to the fjord. And have him tell my brother I love him, and I’m sorry.” Terin choked on the last words.