The Lotus Ascension (31 page)

This pricked
Soren's pride. “The Sunjaa are the first race of Men, and we have endured
cataclysm and far journeying.” Soren touched his golden horns. “And I'm of
Ausir blood, as well, belonging to a proud and ingenious race whose history
stretches back beyond memory. Even if I denied my Sunjaa right to take my
sister to wife, I could call upon my blood, which courses through me with the
strength of Gilalion's two mightiest races.” Soren believed his disparate
parentage gave him enough of that hybrid vigor to overcome even Ausir
objections to brother-sister mating. He swept past Konas and spoke on, though
he was walking away. “I thank you for helping me realize my true feelings for
Sillara, and your jealousy will come to naught.”

“
I don't need to wield my jealousy against you, Soren,” Konas said.

Soren stopped
and turned back.

“
I've already married her.”

The walls of
the house fled from Soren's sight; the ground shrank away. Soren stood alone,
suspended in a single, frozen thought of horror. Only Konas's mocking face
floated before him. Sillara had married Konas? The lecherous Ausir had topped
her; he had played inside her, tasting every delight her body had to offer.

“
How?”
Soren heard his voice, but it sounded far away and disconnected.

“
It was simple,” Konas said, casually strolling around to the other
side of the bench. He was putting some distance between them. “I bribed her
with thoughts of you.”

Strength fled
Soren's limbs, and he sat upon the rough, sparse grass of the garden. Sillara
was married to Konas. Not to him.

Konas continued
his tale in triumph. “I told her, after our first balloon crash, that spending
the night in the desert would compromise her honor. My brother would not want
her after suspicion was cast on her virginity. Besides, if she went to Duildal
to marry my brother, she would have to leave Arinport forever. The duties of
being not only Tivanel's wife but being the Ausir Queen would keep her away
from her people—most likely—forever. The long centuries of her life would
stretch before her, long centuries without you.” With that last phrase, Konas
leveled a stare at Soren.

Soren, who
fixed his gaze on the grass before him, looked up slowly to meet Konas's gaze.
Something whispered in his brain, but it was not a whisper. It only sounded
soft because it was far away. Whatever it was was fast approaching, and the
whisper rose to a scream.

“
So, me being the only one around,” Konas said, “and knowing that she
liked me more than anyone, save you, of course, we married. I told her I'd stay
with her in Arinport forever, right next to you, her beloved brother. You see,
I saved her from herself, from uniting herself in damned incest to you. If you
had gone to her and spoken your filthy, honeyed words in her ear, she would
have fallen enamored of you; she would have given you her love and her body.”

The scream
became a howl, and it echoed across the desert of Soren's anguished soul.
Sillara was Soren's life; without her he was nothing, barren and waterless.
Konas had stolen her from him, a thief of love unrivaled in any story or song.
His soul's love belonged to another. Despair settled over him and thrust him
deeper within his own black thoughts. Konas's ploy was perfectly crafted and
would be the crowning achievement of his life, for he wrought a marriage with
the most perfect woman in the world. No device, weapon, or suit of armor could
compare with what Konas had done. But Sillara did not love Konas; Soren would
have felt it. Of course she was fond of her tutor. Konas was a dear friend,
close enough to have tricked her into marriage.

The scene of
Soren and Sillara's meeting just minutes before flashed through his mind; she
had been wearing a bracelet, but so elated were they that he did not notice it
was Konas's bracelet. They were married in word and in truth.
Konas—mocking usurper of love.
Konas—vile interloper
intruding between two souls meant for each other.

Soren rose to
his feet like a dust storm rising off the dunes, and his wrath whirled about
him. Konas took a step back. If Sillara had married anyone else, Soren could
have outlived their relationship. But, no! She had to marry a full Ausir. Soren
wished damnation on the Seranimesti House, on all their line, from now until
the world's ending. The Desertmasters had brought the Sunjaa tradition of
brother-sister marriage with them, so what would be fit and proper not only
here in this strange city but also back home in Arinport was denied Soren.
Denied him by the machinations of the damned Ausir tutor.

Soren stalked
toward Konas, though he came slowly, one foot at a time, crouched, his arms out
before him, every muscle taut,
every
fiber of his
being screaming in rage. His fingers bent like claws; he drew his breath
through clenched teeth and exhaled in growls.

Konas took
another step back. “She's mine, and nothing you can do will alter that.
Murdering a lawful spouse in order to marry the widow is expressly forbidden by
Sunjaa law. Any marriage between you two after my murder would be invalid.”

Agony packed
upon agony until Soren thought his soul would shatter. Konas had always wanted
Sillara; he had planned this for years. All their life Konas had been Soren's
friend; it was all a lie. All lies. Soren stalked forward, and Konas retreated
before his wrath. Sillara was forever denied Soren, and Soren could be
satisfied only by Konas's blood. Treachery deserved death, and Soren was all too
glad to be the executioner.

“
You've deprived me of my love,” Soren said. “Now, behold! I deprive
you of your life.” With no weapon save his hands and teeth, he leaped at Konas,
hungry for his false friend's death.

Chapter Twenty

Sillara blinked
vacantly at Nathen. Their houses joined more closely? They were already too
close for Sillara's liking, with Merieke being Soren's concubine.

“
Yes, we can be real sisters.” Merieke hugged Sillara again.

Nathen smiled,
and as he spoke next Sillara heard an unusual timbre in his voice. “There is so
much love between our two families.
Our fathers
friends—lovers, too, of course—Soren and I friends and lovers.
Now Soren and Merieke.”

Sillara
narrowed her eyes. She had heard of such Lotus-tricks. Nathen was attempting to
influence her mind. She had suspected that Saerileth had begun training both
Nathen and Merieke in Lotus-skills before her death, but now Sillara was sure
of it. And Nathen, being two years Merieke's senior, had been more thoroughly
trained before their mother's death. “What do you mean, Nathen?” Sillara had no
Lotus-training, no mental tricks to use, but she had the blessing of the
Rose-goddess on her, and she whispered the word from a spot right behind
Nathen's ear.

“
I mean, Sillara, Fair Star—” He broke off, smiling. “I can speak
your mother-tongue, you know.”

Sillara heard
again that strange timbre to Nathen's voice, and she could perceive that, were
her own hearing less keen, her own will less strong, that her mind would be
inclining toward Nathen, would be growing malleable, suggestible.

“
What do you mean?” Sillara took a step away from Merieke's clinging
arms, moving almost without thought to the garden of her inner courtyard.

“
I mean, Sillara, Fair Star, that you are the only star of my life,
the only Queen of my heart.” Nathen stepped toward her. “I speak with your
brother's favor.”

Sillara knew
that was a lie. Soren would not want her to be with Nathen. He would have told
her if he had. But she did not speak of it, for at that moment a great pain
filled her, an agony too great for any word to express. Sillara dropped to her
knees, overcome by the anguish. Her breath came in short, harsh bursts. What
was wrong with her?
No, not her.
Soren.
Soren was suffering, and his soul itself was crying out.

Sillara forced
herself to her feet.

“
What is wrong, sister?” Merieke spoke a word Sillara hated to hear
from any lips but Soren's, and Sillara did not answer her.

She ran. Soren
was not far, and she would go to him, help him.

“
Sillara, tell me! What is wrong?” Nathen's words no longer held the
note of influence, but Sillara did not care one way or the other about it.
Soren needed her.

The
Desertmasters did not bar her way, of course, and Nathen, trained sailor though
he was, could hardly keep pace with her. Sillara ran, fleet as a deer, through
the dusty street to stand before Konas's door, and she pushed on it. The door
was locked, but Sillara did not care. She screamed out and thrust her shoulder
against it.

“
Soren!”
She pushed again, and the door gave way. She ought to have been
amazed, she knew, but she could not care. She ran through the house, Nathen
hard on her heels, to Konas's own garden. There she saw Soren, his hands curved
up like claws, leaping at Konas's throat.

“
Soren!”
Sillara ran to him and put her arms around him. Soren's agony did
not lessen, but his rage calmed enough for him to speak.

“
Sillara.”
Soren enfolded her in his arms.

“
What's going on?” Nathen, panting and breathless, came to stand by
Sillara.

“
Take Konas outside,” said Sillara, not looking away from Soren's
face. “I need to speak to my brother alone for a moment.”

“
Sillara.”
Konas put his hand on her shoulder, and for the first time Sillara
disliked the touch. “I should stay—”

“
No. You were fighting with my brother.” Sillara looked over at
Nathen then. “Please, Nathen, make sure that Lord Seranimesti is well attended
for this while. Take him to your sister, and have her do the honors of my
house. The Desertmasters can scarce object to his presence in my house if I am
not there. Please, Konas, just go.”

“
Yes, Sillara.”
Nathen was the one who spoke, and Konas, obviously not wanting to
either be dragged out bodily or else shed blood in Sillara's presence,
followed.

“
Soren, Soren.” As soon as they were alone, Sillara took her
brother's face in her hands, forcing him to look into her eyes. “What is
wrong?”
  

“
Sillara.”
Soren's eyes were clouded with agony, and fear clutched at
Sillara's heart.

“
I felt your pain, brother, and I came to you.” Sillara tugged on
Soren's hands, and they sat down on a bench, side by side, with their hands
clasped in Soren's lap, just as they had done since they were children. “Tell
me, Soren.”

Soren's eyes
did not clear, but he leaned his brow down to hers. “Konas told me—told me what
I only wish I had realized a month ago. I love you, Sillara, not only as a
sister. I love you as our father loved our mother.”

The doors of
Sillara's heart opened, and she understood everything. She had come home, home
to a place at once familiar and yet strangely glorious. She was home, and she
would never want to leave it. She could spend all her days here with Soren, and
his company would be all she would ever need, all she could ever want. She
would never weary of his presence any more than she could weary of her own. She
had in him the gaiety of worlds of company and the freedom of the most absolute
solitude. The scent of roses and
shalar
filled her nostrils, and she
threw her arms around Soren.

“
I love you, I love you,
I
love you.”
Sillara could not stop the words.

Soren whispered
his words into her hair. “But I realized this too late, sister. You're married
to that damned Seranimesti.”

Sillara's
throat
constricted,
and she pushed away from Soren,
looking up into his face with horror. “Kanfiran eat his eyes!”

Soren pressed
his lips to her brow, and she babbled on.

“
I did not know, Soren! Oh gods, I did not know. I never loved
him—and he knows it! You are the only man I have ever loved. I married him so
that I would not have to leave
you.
” With the clarity of despair,
Sillara saw all Konas's machinations.

“
I know, my love.” Soren's voice was gentle. “He told me.”

“
But did he tell you—oh, Soren!” Sobs shook Sillara's frame. “He
faked the first balloon crash. He put me in a position where I could break our
father's betrothal of me to King Tivanel, and then he promised me you! He
promised me that if I married him, I would not have to leave Arinport—leave
you. He arranged the whole thing.” Hate filled Sillara, hate for her husband.
“He gained my troth by deceit.”

Soren's arms
tightened around her.
“Damned Seranimesti.
Honorless, worthless, monstrous deceiver!”