The List Unseen, page 3
part #4 of Second Draeken War Series
"Do you ever linger at your training sessions?"
Ianna remained silent. At a loss for words, she nodded.
Siarra's expression became one of triumph. "Well . . ."
Ianna released an explosive breath and strode to a bench. Sinking onto its surface she hardly noticed when Siarra joined her. For several minutes they sat until Ianna shook her head.
"I can't, Siarra. We both know it is forbidden."
"Are you happy with your life?" Siarra asked.
Surprised at the shift in conversation, she looked at her daughter. "I am happy with you."
"That's not what I mean," Siarra said, a crease forming on her brow.
Ianna sighed. "No, daughter, I'm not—but what else is there? This is our place in life, and the only choice we have is to accept it."
"I can't believe that," Siarra said, her voice barely a whisper. "I cannot imagine spending my entire life in this home."
"But we are called to serve—"
"Is that all we are?" Siarra rounded on her, "Are we no more than slaves to the needs of the world?"
Ianna had no answer to that.
"I want to feel free," Siarra said. "And I want to know love—and not the type that is chosen by another. I want to go swimming and see the top of a mountain. I want to see the dwarven forges and meet an amazon. I want to talk to a man without fear of someone reporting what I said."
"How?" Ianna demanded. "We cannot change the laws we are bound by—and you know that I have tried. And if we attempted to leave? The elves wouldn't be the only race that would hunt us down. Do you see a way out?"
Siarra shook her head. "No. But at least you have Mazer."
Ianna flashed a small smile. "That is true."
Siarra threw her a look that made her feel caught.
Relenting, Ianna laughed. "Do you want me to admit what I feel for him? Of course I feel something. How could I not? He's kind and considerate, and has a sense of humor that makes me forget where I am. Regardless of how much he shares it never seems enough. He is on my mind nearly every minute of the day, and I live for the moments that I get to train with him.
"I've told him how I prefer my old sword, for now, so he fashioned a brand new scabbard for me. One day he asked to borrow my sword, and the next he returned it with a new sheath. I also think he sneaks into the kitchen and prepares my breakfast for me. I'm certain it's him because he leaves a daisy next to the bowl of fruit—but I don't know how he knew it was my favorite."
Siarra's smile was smug, causing Ianna's eyes to narrow.
"You told him?"
"He asked what you liked," Siarra said. "I had no idea what he would do with the information."
Ianna smiled at the false note of innocence in her voice. "Does that mean you like him?" Ianna asked.
Siarra cocked her head to the side. "He is better than Sarow—but that isn't hard to achieve. I see him being nice to the patrons, and he fixes their gear without payment." Then her eyes turned appraising. "I've also seen the way he looks at you, and how he lets his hand linger on your arm or back while you train. For that matter, I've seen you do the same."
"When—how did you see us train?" Ianna asked, too surprised to feel embarrassed.
"Honestly, Mother, you should pay more attention to the guards that supervise your time together." She grunted. "Or perhaps we need a change of the guard. Not once did they notice me in one of their uniforms."
Ianna laughed, freely and without inhibition. Then she said, "You should go by Elseerian, rather than Elsheeria. The formal name of our bloodline doesn't suit you."
Siarra smirked, obviously pleased at the suggestion. "So are you going to kiss him, or not?"
Ianna's humor evaporated. Releasing a troubled sigh, she said, "I don't know. I admit that I want our relationship to continue, but I do not know how it can. At any moment the Hunter will catch on and put an end to it. I don't know how we've avoided notice until now."
"Mother," Siarra said, using the same lecturing tone that Ianna used. "For once stop thinking about the future. What comes will come. Just enjoy the time you have now."
Ianna nodded at her daughter's wisdom and stood. Pulling her into an embrace, she whispered into her ear, "I will try."
They separated and Siarra motioned to the door. "You should get going. Mazer will be waiting for you."
Ianna smiled and swept a hand at the orbs of energy. "Will you stay and practice?"
"As I do every day."
"Of that I have no doubt," Ianna said. Then she smiled and turned from the room. A dozen steps down the hall she quickened her pace. With her heart matching her gait she hurried towards the chamber dedicated to weapon training. At every step she contemplated her daughter's words.
Reaching the portal she stepped through it. Hewn from stone rather than living trees, the weapon training chamber was unlike any in the tree home. Set adjacent and behind the main house, it had been decorated with a large variety of weapons, armor and shields. This time, though, there was something missing.
"Where are the guards?" Ianna asked Mazer, who was already warming up.
He shrugged and flashed a grin. "Are you afraid to be alone with me?"
She laughed at his comment and tried to ignore the tremor of foreboding. Her doubt was no match for the sense of excitement. She had never had a moment alone with him. Striding to the side she retrieved her sword. "Why don't you find out?"
Stepping into a battle stance, she motioned for him to attack her. The anticipation on his expression brought a smile to her lips. Then the ring of blades stopped her from considering why the guards were not at their posts.
Chapter 3: An Archmage's Edict
Ianna fought the ache of tired muscles as she sent her katsana out. The ring of metal against metal sounded loud in the training circle, mingling with the echoing contact from the last strike. The block from Mazer's sword was expected, as was his smile.
"You are getting better, Ianna."
She flashed him a grin and spun to attack the opposite side. "Perhaps, but I don't like it when you take it easy on me. Am I not better than that?"
Her next attack felt slow as he dodged away. Like a river around a boulder he slipped to the side—and then darted in. She parried his blow and tried to duck away, but he was relentless. Driving her back, he kept her on her heels as he unleashed a flurry of strikes. She did her best to keep up, recognizing it to be the first time he had used his full skill on her.
She was chagrined to feel her sword leave her hands as he disarmed her. Twirling to her side, he wrapped a muscled arm around her waist and pulled her close. Inches apart, they were both breathing hard at the exertion.
"Not good enough," she said.
"Yet," he replied, his lips twitching.
As her breath slowed she felt another sensation rush to the fore. Hot blood coursed through her as she became aware of his body pressed against hers. She swallowed against the dryness in her throat, and then flashed a brilliant smile. Drawing the heat from their bodies she sent it into his skin.
With a yelp he released her and stepped back, nursing the light burn on his arm. Before he could recover she sent a ripple through the wall, loosening her sword and sending it soaring towards her. With deft hands she caught the hilt and swung towards Mazer, a cry of triumph on her lips . . .
But he wasn't there.
Then a voice spoke into her ear. "Some might call that cheating."
"A sword isn't my only weapon," she said. "It is good for my opponent to remember that." Her smile was evident in her voice and it took any sting from the words. Mazer laughed in response.
Turning, he strode to the side and fill two glasses. He offered one to her. As she moved to accept it he inclined his head. "I will try to remember your other . . . weapons."
She almost flushed at the intonation to his words but kept it in check. She'd spent a lifetime building the walls around her heart, but they seemed to be eroding at an alarming rate. Despite her concern she felt a rush of gratitude that the requested training had occurred at her word—in spite of the reservations from the Hunter and the guards.
Until that moment she'd been able to maintain her reserve—but the absence of the guards was taking a toll. Now the solitude sent energy blossoming across her skin. Meeting his eyes, she could sense the depth of his feelings towards her. She felt a longing to reach out to him, draw him close and press her lips to his. She shifted closer, unable to quell the desire.
To her surprise he responded in kind, his expression sobering as he cleared his throat. "Ianna, I . . ."
She held his gaze, causing him to freeze. Her heart stuttered in her chest as she took a small step in his direction. A part of her mind protested at the movement, screaming at her to stop. It is forbidden, it yelled. If anyone discovers you—
No one will know, another voice spoke, drowning out the first. The guards never leave you alone, but they could return at any moment.
It is forbidden! the first wailed, but it sounded distant and faint. The blood thundering in her ears overpowered it, and she took another step in Mazer's direction. Her heart sang as he mirrored her movements.
This is your chance, the second argued, its mental tone quick with anticipation. It is the only way you will ever know happiness.
Do not break tradition! the first screamed, fury giving it more power. The anger in it caused her to hesitate, and then she realized the voice was familiar.
It was her mother’s.
Her chest rising and falling with a mounting heat, she ignored her mother's voice. She had listened to it for long enough. Whatever the consequences, she could not deny the ache she felt. Hesitantly, she reached up to Mazer with her free hand. Drawing him close to her, she was grateful that their height was so close.
The lightning as their lips touched was better than the feel of magic in her hands. His arms wrapped around her, grasping her waist, tightening in desperation. The unbridled passion surprised her, and robbed her of breath—
The footfalls echoed faintly but got louder as they approached. Startled, she dropped her arms and jerked back, releasing the cup of water. It clattered to the ground as the doors flew open. Framed by several guards the Hunter glared at Mazer. Without taking his gaze from him, the Hunter addressed Ianna.
"Oracle, a guest has arrived to speak with you."
She tried to hold her dignity, but the feeling of being caught was too strong. "By your tone I would guess it is someone of importance."
"Sarow has arrived."
Every emotion that had vied for her attention evaporated. Her jaw tightened as Mazer asked, "Who?"
"Siarra's father," Ianna replied, her voice empty. She threw him an apologetic glance before striding towards the weapon rack. Methodically she placed her blade in its sheath, taking advantage of the moment to regain her composure. Turning towards the door, she approached the Hunter.
Behind her outward calm a barrage of thoughts assailed her. Why has Sarow come now? Does the Hunter suspect us? What is Mazer thinking?
"We will practice later, Ianna," Mazer said, "if you wish."
She spun to face him, preventing the guards from seeing her faint smile. "I do, Mazer. Thank you for today's lesson."
His expression left no doubt that he understood what she meant, but she departed before her voice could betray her further. She paused in the opening when the Hunter faced the swordsmith.
"Someday you and I will . . . train . . . together."
"I would enjoy that encounter," Mazer replied, his voice even.
"As would I."
Ianna felt the urge to say something, but before she could the Hunter spun on his heels and departed. Releasing a breath she followed him, her thoughts jumbled. Sarow's arrival hung heavy in her mind, but she also felt the need to protect Mazer. Her lips thinned as she recalled her joining to the archmage before Siarra's birth.
Since the Age of Oracles the father of the next oracle was chosen by the guild of mages. As with Sarow, it was common for the archmage to be selected. From the lessons she had received she knew this was done in an effort to preserve the high level of magic in the bloodline. Although practical, it frequently led to a loveless joining. Her marriage to Sarow had been no different—but it was made worse by his inability to remain faithful.
In the six months of their joining she'd had no recourse. Trapped until she could bear a child, the time had been one of the worst of her life. The day she felt a stirring within her she had invoked the right of separation, dissolving their joining, permanently. To do so between an oracle and an archmage had no precedent, but it was a right of all elven people. Humiliated, Sarow had left because he had no choice. She had seen him in Azertorn a few times after—but he had never returned to the oracle's home.
So why would he be returning now? She felt a tremor of dread as her instincts fluttered, but she did her best to set them aside. Regardless of the circumstances she would face him with dignity. He had no power over her anymore.
Striding into the receiving hall her chin rose as she saw Sarow reclining on her dais. Dressed in gilded armor and a shimmering cloak his posture and expression exuded arrogance. She suppressed her anger, recognizing the placement as purposeful. He meant to unnerve her, but why? Then she decided that two could play that game.
"Archmage, to what do we owe the visit."
Sarow's expression darkened as she addressed him by his title rather than his name. "Oracle," he almost sneered, "I see you have failed to gain respect for your superiors."
"My respect extends to those who have earned it, archmage."
His sneer became a scowl, but he didn't get the chance to respond as Siarra strode into the room behind Ianna.
"That is not your seat, mage," Siarra nearly snarled. "And only a fool sits on a seat that does not belong to him."
Ianna suppressed a smile—and the desire to hug her daughter. Although she had only met her father once, Siarra had dismissed him in seconds. The memory of Siarra rebuffing Sarow was one Ianna cherished, even though they had both suffered because of it.
"Your daughter follows in your erroneous footsteps, Oracle. Perhaps she needs to be instructed by someone better suited to the task."
Siarra issued a grunt of laughter, her smile twisting as she spoke, "Ero himself would find it a challenge to surpass my mother in parenting. You on the other hand—"
"Siarra, perhaps you can inform the kitchen that we will have a guest for dinner." Careful daughter, he means to find an excuse, she thought to Siarra.
But—
You have already made me proud, she thought, allowing her daughter to sense the joy she'd felt at her words. Now go, so I may discover the truth of his presence.
Siarra sniffed in disdain and walked from the room, tossing her final words over her shoulder. "As you wish, Mother. I will also tell them they need to discard the trash. I believe it is overdue."
Fury darkened Sarow's eyes but he managed to reign it in. Shaking himself he rose and stepped from the dais. "I didn't come here to cause contention, Ianna. I came to speak on several serious matters that have come to my attention. Are you aware of what I speak?"
Ianna's brow furrowed as she shrugged. What was his intent?
His smile twisted into a smirk. "In truth there are two conflicts that must be resolved. Siarra would be the first."
"What does she—"
He continued as if he hadn't heard her. "I've heard troubling rumors of her returning the required cost of gaining your insight. I would have expected better from her."
Ianna's jaw tightened. "It is not right to charge those in need."
Again he ignored her, striding to the side and examining one of the tapestries on the wall. "The second concern is more pressing, and I admit, far more troubling." He paused and his eyes flickered to hers. "It has come to my attention that you have begun to see another man."
Her throat caught, but she managed to say, "Your information is false, archmage. I have done no such thing."
"Ah, but the important question is will you. Even now you and he meet in private. I don't need to remind you that if such a scandal were to end in a second child you would lose your magic, and the respect of every nation in Lumineia."
With a start she realized that Sarow had left her alone with Mazer on purpose. Her gaze narrowed at the manipulation.
"I require no lesson on duty from you." Although the edge in her voice was unmistakable, it didn't cause Sarow to respond in kind. She felt a trickle of fear as he bared his teeth.
"Regardless, I have petitioned the elven high council to move you to Azertorn, permanently. It is, to quote your disrespectful daughter, long overdue."
Stunned, she felt a stab of fury. The oracles had lived in Orláknia since the elves migration, and had served all the kingdoms because of it. To remove her would be unthinkable unless . . .
"Do you think that will control us?" Ianna said, unable to keep the acid from her voice.
"Of course it will," he replied, his hands going wide. "And it will put you back where you belong, on my arm."
She looked away from him, struggling to contain her rising fear. Meeting the gaze of the Hunter she was startled to see a flicker of doubt in his expression. It evaporated in an instant. Impassive, he stared at her.
"You will not succeed in this, Sarow," she said, turning back to him. "I will not allow it."
He advanced towards her with contempt twisting his features. "You have no power to speak of, and you are the weakest oracle in generations. The only role you deserve to serve is that of my companion." He came to a halt and laughed in her face. Then he reached up and slid his finger down her cheek. "You are mine, Oracle, and always will be."
She felt revulsion mount within her, binding her tongue. Laughing again, he swept from the room, leaving Ianna to her fear.
Chapter 4: Changing Fate
Ianna returned to her room alone, a bitter numbness threatening to overpower her. It felt like a lifetime since she had trained with Mazer, since she had felt a sense of freedom. Now it was all going to be taken away. Was there no freedom for an oracle? Or was she destined to be caged? As she dressed for sleep she knew that she would never be free.
