Wave-Touched, page 23
“First, you must remember it is as much an illusion as the lightning you draw forth. I do not truly increase the darkness or pressure around my victims. I merely make them perceive that I have done so.”
Veyl lowered her gaze, uncomfortable with his choice of words.
“The people you use your ability on are victims, Veyl. We are Frighteners. There is no benevolent application of that power. You need to accept that.” He took another sip of his drink. “Your grandmother, Ellaris, used to encourage me to practice on her. I learned to refine my control very quickly. I would never have forgiven myself if I had hurt her.” He swallowed hard and glanced away, his hand tightening slightly on the glass, and it struck Veyl how deeply he must have loved her to still feel her death so acutely. After a second, he drew a breath and went on. “With her feedback, I became quite adept at subtlety. It would please me to assist you in such a way once we resolve matters here.”
“Thank you. That would mean a lot to me.” Veyl inclined her head in a gesture of gratitude and respect before pressing him again. “Regarding my first question…” she trailed off, hoping he would accept that she didn’t intend to let it go.
This time he took a longer drink of the burning alcohol before answering her. “I told you I brought Jaysen here to keep an eye on him. I also felt it could not hurt to illustrate to the council that they risk making enemies of multiple kingdoms on Pandrea, not just Vanris.” He gave her a long, discerning look. “However, I am aware Jaysen has taken a more-than-friendly interest in you, and I have, as you may recall, witnessed firsthand the rise of conflict between you because of that. If I assigned Iyvalin and the twins to the flagship with you, while separating him out, he might have suspected you were involved in the arrangement. By dividing you as I did and placing Gannon, who would not normally be your first choice, with you, I discouraged him from coming to that conclusion and possibly adding it to the list of wrongs he thinks you and your parents have done him by rejecting his advances.”
Veyl stared at him. Her grandfather was a shrewd man. Listening to him now, confirming some of her suspicions from earlier, she could hardly believe he hadn’t yet caught on to her relationship with Kyril. But if he had, he would never have allowed her the various opportunities she’d had to spend time around him on their voyage here. Would he?
Absentmindedly, she took a swig of her drink, hating how he smirked when she broke into another coughing fit.
He held out a hand. “I should not encourage you to develop a taste for that.” When she didn’t relinquish the glass, his shoulders lifted in a slight shrug, and he lowered his hand. “Tomorrow, when you speak to our people, you will have Ahndhomen Jinau with you. I will send Gannon and two other guards along as well. After today, I am confident that you can manage the process without raising the ire or suspicion of our gracious hosts.” The slight sneer in the word gracious told her how unimpressed he was with the council.
Veyl caught herself straightening before his praise. “I appreciate your faith in me.”
He walked over to place a hand on her shoulder and looked her in the eyes. “I trust in you, Veyl. I have not misplaced that trust, have I?”
The searching look he gave her turned the alcohol into a snake twisting in her stomach. How she wished she could be honest with him. “No, grandfather… I mean, Dhomvalen,” she corrected when he arched one eyebrow.
A faint smile curved his lips. “Alone, you may call me whatever you wish.” When he reached for the still half-full glass this time, she let him take it. “Get some rest. You have a long day ahead of you.”
Veyl wished him goodnight and retreated, taking her secrets with her.
***
Mardi, Quillon, and two more guards met her group, made up of Gannon, Jinau, and a pair of Vanrian guards appointed by Arhk, at the docks early the next morning. They wasted no time escorting her to the first house, where four Vanrian abductees were living. The two tehnaak pairings greeted her with enthusiasm, eager to hear news of Vanris and their likely return home. She attacked her task with sincerity despite the planned coup, taking them one at a time into a separate room to discuss the matter of their futures. If there were any who wavered about leaving Thaelis, they might be more inclined to stay once it became an official territory of Vanris. For now, she couldn’t reveal that to them, but it could be beneficial to have some Vanrian residents remain on the island to aid with the coming transitions. More so if they stayed by choice.
The day swept past, all the conversations eventually blending into one another. There were over a hundred abductees to meet with, so many that it would take a few days to speak to them all, but she worked her way through enough to bring a representative sample to the negotiation table later. The majority had expressed an enthusiastic interest in returning home, though several admitted to finding the island beautiful and most of its people welcoming. Of those, an even smaller number acknowledged that they might not be as eager to leave if Vanris and Thaelis were on friendly terms.
The council insisted on the Vanrian company staying aboard their ships for most of the day. Arhk negotiated a visit to the port market with a modest group to replenish provisions they were running low on. The outing also gave him an opportunity to investigate what unique resources the island might have to offer. Before departing that morning, Veyl mentioned the substance they used to aid their mind-crafter Trials as something that could be of interest, encouraging him to ask the tribal Qwilki about it.
Everyone was present that evening for her report on the results of the day’s meetings. Not surprisingly, the paltry number of people in her selection who would consider staying displeased the council. Particularly when she mentioned offering the caveat of a changed relationship with Vanris, but they maintained hope for better in the second batch, encouraging her to try harder, as if her results were because of a lack of sufficient effort on her part. At the end, as they adjourned with plans to meet again once she finished her rounds the next day, Darith called her aside.
Her nerves sparked to life as she approached him, aware of Arhk watching her intently. “Yes, Councilor?”
“Ahninveth, if you would consider making use of the lodgings we have provided here, you could get an earlier start tomorrow. You might feel less rushed.”
Again, the implication sat behind his words that the lack of interest in staying on Thaelis was a fault in the process and not a direct result of the fact that they had abducted her people. She kept her tone carefully neutral despite her irritation. “I appreciate that, but my belongings are on the Delaphinian flagship now. I can make certain we are on shore first thing in the morning.”
He inclined his head, his gaze flickering to Arhk near the doorway. “If that is what you prefer.”
As he spoke, another councilor approached. She held a bottle of wine out to him. “Excuse my interruption, but I believe this is what you requested.”
Darith accepted the wine. “It is. Thank you.”
The woman lingered a moment, her gaze following the bottle as he tucked it in the crook of his arm. “I was fond of her mother. It is a shame the girl must lose her brother too, after all she has gone through.”
Her words set off alarms in Veyl. There was no mistaking who they were talking about. Had they already decided Kyril’s fate?
Darith drew a deep breath, his expression solemn. “I am afraid there is no way around it, Jiyan. The ahnkreth made his choice and cannot go unpunished. Perhaps we can arrange a companion to stay with her for a time. Ideally someone close to her age who has also lost their tehnaak.”
“I will send out an inquiry tomorrow to start that process. A pleasant evening to you both.” Jiyan gave each of them a nod before walking away.
Veyl eyed the bottle, a twisting of guilt in her gut. “That’s for Kitria? Do you still intend to give her brother a full trial?”
His lips pressed in a tight line as he nodded. “Yes, on both counts, but the outcome is easy to predict, given his actions. His sister sent a message to the council this morning to plead for her brother’s life. With everything she has lost, it will be difficult for her to recover from this. I thought I might take time this evening to have a drink with her and let her speak her mind, even if it will not change what is to come.”
Veyl felt her dislike of him fading a fraction. “It’s considerate of you to try easing the loss.” She yearned to add her voice to the pleas for his life, but knowing they still meant to give him a trial meant there was time to save him through other methods. “I will bid you…” Her focus moved to the bottle when he shifted his hold on it, and she remembered her promise to Kitria that she would get Kyril back. How shattered she must be, believing they would put her brother to death for his crimes?
“Is something wrong, Ahninveth?” Darith prompted.
“Maybe I could take it to her. I lived with her for a time before I left here.”
He shook his head. “This requires delicate handling. You, while we have appreciated your efforts, are not Thaelian. You did not suffer through the Devastation as we did.”
She wanted to spit in his face for that. He probably assumed no one had told her how they deserted their people and went into hiding during that time. Keeping her tone earnest, she said, “You know she’ll find it harder to open up to you as one of her leaders. Please. Let me do this for her.”
“Perhaps… You are more of an age with her, and your time together may make her more receptive to your support.” Darith considered her for a long moment, then he offered her the bottle. “Very well. Take it. It is one of the finest vintages from our stores. Not one I would normally choose to give away, but this is an unusual circumstance. I hope you both enjoy it. If you wish to stay ashore tonight after you meet with her, something I would encourage given your duties on the morrow, you are welcome to use Ahnkreth Kyril’s former quarters near the port. Or you may stay with Kitria, should she offer.”
Veyl tucked the bottle under her arm as he had done, worms of guilt still squirming in her gut. Would Kitria even speak to her? The tenuous peace they parted on depended upon her bringing Kyril back, but it seemed safe to assume delivering him to his execution wasn’t what the other woman had in mind. If she could at least hint at the truth, that might ease her sorrow and smooth things over between them. Or perhaps Kitria already knew and was merely playing her expected role in this. There was only one way to find out.
“Thank you, Councilor Darith. I appreciate your trusting me in this.”
“Do not let it be a mistake,” he answered, a little more curtly this time, eyeing the bottle with what appeared to be a hint of distress before turning away. “Good evening to you, Ahninveth.”
As soon as Darith was gone, Veyl turned to find Arhk coming up behind her.
“What was that about?”
“I’m going to visit Kitria, Kyril’s sister,” she added when he arched a brow in question. “I may be there late, so I’ll plan to stay ashore tonight.” She braced herself, coming up with counters to the arguments he might raise against the idea.
“Be careful,” he warned in a low voice. “Don’t expose our plan and don’t let down your guard. We need only make it until tomorrow night.” Speaking at a more normal volume, he said, “I assume Jinau will follow you, but take Gannon along as well, and I will leave you two of our soldiers to act as guards.”
Were they that close to moving against the council already? Once again, his trust in her left her surprised and humbled. Part of her suspected that was deliberate, rightly predicting that it would make her more determined not to disappoint him, but it remained effective regardless. “Thank you, Dhomvalen.”
She gathered Gannon, Jinau, and the appointed guards, two Vanrian and two Thaelian, and struck out for Kitria’s home through the darkening streets. A light breeze carried the scent of the ocean, bringing with it memories of her time there before, not all of them unpleasant. Some of them, in fact, rather positive. She touched the two shells in her hair, a twinge in her heart for Kyril, locked up beneath the Great Hall where she had spent time herself at one point. Was he in the same miserable little cell they had placed her in?
When they arrived at the lovely house near the ocean, one of the Thaelian guards cut her off and went to knock. Veyl wanted to be annoyed with him, but since she dreaded the welcome she might receive, maybe it was better if a guard took the lead up front.
Kitria yanked open the door. Her dark hair was unkempt. Her silver eyes, bloodshot and rimmed in red, went straight to Veyl. She slammed it shut again.
“Kit.” Veyl darted forward and pushed it open before the other woman could try to bolt it. “Please, I just want to talk.”
Kitria stepped back from the door, leaving room for her to enter, and turned away, walking brusquely into the main room.
The Thaelian guard moved to follow Veyl inside, and she cast a glare at him. “No. Only Gannon and Ahndhomen Jinau.”
The man looked like he might ignore her until Jinau placed a hand on his shoulder and pulled him back. The Charmer met her eyes. “You and Gannon go inside. I will wait out here with the guards.”
She hesitated, oddly reluctant to be parted from him, but perhaps it was better not to overwhelm Kitria. Veyl nodded and walked farther in, leaving Gannon to follow.
When he had entered and closed the door behind him, she held up the bottle of wine, meeting the eyes of the woman now standing across the room near the statue of the wave dancer. “Councilor Darith sent this. Can we talk? Please.”
Kitria gestured to the couch. As they moved to sit, she snatched the bottle from Veyl and walked into the kitchen. When she returned a moment later, she had a platter holding three mugs made from the shells of large crustaceans called ket’ta, a plate of small pastries, and a different bottle of wine. She placed it on the table before dropping into a chair closer to Gannon.
Now that Veyl thought about it, perhaps it was wise not to drink wine provided by the council. She popped the cork on the new bottle and poured some for each of them, struggling to come up with something to say. Kitria’s anger suggested she didn’t know about their actual plans yet, which left it on Veyl’s shoulders to decide if she could risk telling her and, if so, how much to say. When she finished pouring, they each claimed a mug.
Kitria smirked and raised hers. “To traitors and liars.”
“Kit.” Veyl watched the other woman slam back the wine and reluctantly took a drink from her own. It had a hint of bitterness to start, but the smooth aftertaste made up for it. She downed another swallow, yearning for the false comfort it would bring in sufficient quantity.
Gannon, sitting unnaturally stiff alongside her, finished his almost as quickly as Kitria had. Then he grabbed a tart and popped it in his mouth, perhaps hoping to avoid having to say anything.
A tense, awkward silence stretched between them all. Though it wasn’t the way wine was supposed to be enjoyed, Veyl shrugged and drank the rest of hers. She refilled all three, hoping to appreciate the second pouring at a more leisurely pace, while Gannon and Kitria each took a tart, probably more for an excuse to avoid speaking than out of want for one. Veyl claimed a tart as well, chewing on the surprisingly savory treat as she considered her words. When she washed the last bite down with a swallow of wine, Kyril’s image came to the front of her mind. If he learned how distraught his sister was, it would crush him.
“Your brother won’t be executed,” she said in a low voice, wary of the Thaelians among the guards out front.
Kitria’s eyes narrowed, her trust apparently no longer extended to Veyl. “How do you intend to prevent that?” She took another swallow of the wine, the new intensity in her forward posture hinting that she might still have hope.
Gannon touched Veyl’s arm, giving a slight shake of his head when she looked at him. She drew a breath, then took a sip of her drink, hoping the liquid would help her find her courage, though it seemed unlikely to do much for her wisdom. Part of her wanted to heed Gannon’s caution, but Kitria wouldn’t betray them, not with her brother’s life at risk.
She slid to the edge of her seat, leaning forward, and whispered, “We have a plan in motion to force the council to step down.”
Gannon grimaced, shaking his head, and bit into another tart.
Kitria’s eyes widened a fraction, her gaze jumping to the front door as if the guards outside might still hear. “How?” She took a tart and fumbled, dropping it back on the tray, then scowled at her hand as if it had betrayed her.
“I can’t… say too much…” Veyl trailed off, blinking a few times. Her vision was blurring, her tongue and lips feeling thick and strange, protesting the formation of more words. She shook her head to clear it, the movement unbalancing her enough that she slid back on the couch a bit more for better stability.
“Veyl.” Gannon spoke her name as if doing so required the same effort as climbing a steep mountain, each sound a strain.
“Where did you get this… wine?” Veyl asked, struggling to articulate the words. Or could it have been the pastries?
“The wine and tarts…” A hint of panic rose in Kitria’s eyes as her mug dropped from her other hand, spilling red on the carpet. “The messenger… said…” She shook her head, seeming unable to focus on Veyl. “He said …”
A flush of terror swept through Veyl, and she clumsily shoved the tray off the table, nearly falling as she did so. Her ability flickered, weak and uninspiring, like a storm fading in the distance. She sagged against the back of the couch as it became too hard to hold herself upright.
Thuds and a few grunts from outside made her throat constrict. She felt a cutting sensation in her chest. The front door opened, but she could no longer control her muscles well enough to turn and see who had entered. The two Thaelian guards, along with four others, hauled her two Vanrian guards, bloodied and unmoving, into the room. Then they dragged a third person in, dropping him beside the first two.
Jinau. Tears sprang to Veyl’s eyes, a raw stinging in her throat. No. Please no.
