Aerisian Refrain, page 22
part #1 of Beyond the Sunset Series
Instantly, I backed off, tamping down on my joy, throwing up walls.
“I used to take ballroom dance for fun. It was nothing.”
That wasn’t much of a lie. Early on in my career, when I’d shown promise as a dancer, I’d taken a few lessons in traditional ballroom dancing. Only a few, because I hadn’t needed more. Every dance I tried, I seemed to flow into naturally. Just like every musical instrument I played lent itself to my fingers. I’d always attributed it to the music and rhythm that flowed through my brain like blood through my veins.
Luckily, Hannah had too much on her plate to quiz me further. With a simple, “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” she let the matter go, turning to say something to Princess Vashti. Welcoming her and her retinue into the palace, offering them Laytrii’s hospitality. I also overheard snippets of talk about where the dragons themselves would be kept. Only snippets because, as Vashti walked away with Hannah, something bumped me from behind. I spun to see Sunshield’s great copper snout. He’d bumped me gently, like a horse might do, trying to catch my attention. With a soft laugh, I reached out with both hands to stroke his dry, scaled face, marveling at the coolness of his scales contrasted with the heat of their color.
“You’re amazing,” I said quietly. “You beautiful, beautiful thing. Thank you for letting me ride you. I’ll never forget it.”
I didn’t know if he could understand me. He was only an animal, but this was Aerisia, where the miraculous was commonplace. The expression in his slitted eyes hinted that he might.
“Pardon, Lady,” said a gruff voice, as one of the princess’s men stepped up to lead the dragon away. He spoke to Sunshield in their language, a collection of garbled syllables to my ear. The dragon understood, and turned willingly, gliding off after the tall Warkin warrior.
I watched them go, hands on hips, smiling, only to look up and realize Hannah and the Warkin ruler were even now mounting the palace steps, followed closely by the Simathe High-Chief, his officers, and the other Council members.
Someone brushed my elbow and I turned to see Lord Cole standing there, waiting for me.
“Do not permit them to steal your joy,” he said.
I concealed my surprise, or hoped I did, that he would say something like that. Suddenly, my heart was lighter and the wings on my feet felt every bit as substantial as the dragon wings on which I’d just soared.
Chapter 31
Warkin Vs. Tearkin
That night, the palace hosted a dinner for the dignitaries who’d arrived thus far, and even though I had no social standing beyond being a stranger from Earth and the Artan’s friend, I was invited. I was seated next to Lord Contrey, who, of all the Simathe I’d met, seemed less warrior and more scholar. He wasn’t a big talker, but he was well-spoken and thoughtful in what little conversation we had. He was also the only one of the four Simathe in attendance, including Cole, to carry no weapons. Never mind that it was a formal dinner party; the High-Chief and Chief Captain still wore swords, and Cole had a least a couple of daggers visible. Maybe that was because it was a dinner party with people historically not on friendly terms. Or maybe that was simply what the Simathe did. Clearly, theirs was a warrior culture.
That wasn’t something I was used to, with the exception of my armed bodyguards back home, but it didn’t really put me off. Nothing, it seemed, was putting me off from stealing little glances at Lord Cole, seated a few chairs down on the opposite side of the table. Tonight, he was dressed in a dark coat that only enhanced the alien blackness of his hair and eyes, and a white shirt that contrasted with his bronze skin. His long ebony hair was pulled back from his face, the golden hoop in his ear glittered in the light of the candles and palace moonstones, and around his neck was a golden chain from which hung a medallion. It was all I could do not to stare outright, despite my telling myself mentally to get a grip.
You’ve been surrounded by magic and mystery and danger ever since you arrived here, and that’s not enough to put you off and keep you from acting like a teenager over this guy? What is wrong with you? You’ve been around the world and entertained men of every race and background and social position. You’ve never reacted to any of them like this. Why him? Why now, when he as much as told you he couldn’t help you and you shouldn’t trust him?
A mental scolding was all well and good, but when he turned from answering a question posed by a fellow dinner companion and his eyes happened to drift across my face, where they stopped and held, suddenly I was out of breath, again, and my heart was pounding double-time. I was keenly aware of the borrowed gown Lady Elisia, the Spinner, had brought to my rooms tonight. A deep purple velvet trimmed in silver that left my shoulders bare and my neck exposed, that she’d said would be “becoming” to my eyes. Was it? He stared long enough that I became flustered and dropped my gaze, something I never did.
I couldn’t remember the last time a man had rattled me like this. In my profession, I couldn’t afford to be shy. Simply being near him made me excited and nervous. It also made me relaxed and happy. So many conflicting emotions! Maybe I’d been out of the dating game way too long. I was on the verge of losing my cool, and since even I couldn’t handle that level of ridiculousness, I switched my attention to my fellow diners as a distraction.
Hannah was seated at the head of the long table with her husband, the Simathe High-Chief, on one side, and the High Elder, Lord Ri Wy Joisten, on the other. Down from her were emissaries from Tacstri, apparently a place inhabited by colorful, piratical people. All of them had Silver or Golden in their names and earrings to match those names: Silver Rose, Golden Eyes… Hannah appeared acquainted with them and at ease in their company. Also lining the table was Princess Vashti, the Dragonkind ruler, and two or three of her companions, all male, except for one other woman. Several Moonkind, including Hannah’s cousin, Rittean, and her father, Risean, were in attendance. Also present was the Tearkin prince, Kurban, a couple of his lords, and, of course, the Sanlyn.
Their Chieftain, Kirrian, had bumped into me in the halls outside the formal dining room. His cheeky grin and the approving look he raked over my body inspired a glare and raised my hackles. But all he said was, reaching out to take my hand and kiss it, “The offer still stands, lass. In fact, seeing you in this gown, I am compelled to rethink Linna as my first wife.”
I snatched my hand back. “In your dreams.”
He’d boomed a laughed, not even slightly dissuaded. “Well, we have time. Discussions have not yet begun. I may change your mind.”
“Don’t count on it,” I retorted.
Now, catching his bold wink from down the table, I smothered a grin, rolling my eyes. The man was persistent; I’d give him that. It would’ve been funny if it wasn’t so aggravating.
Despite everyone being on good behavior, the undercurrents of tension were easy to trace. I caught Lord Cole watching the Sanlyn closely, while Prince Kurban and Princess Vashti could barely speak a civil word to each other. That probably wasn’t so unusual. I didn’t know much about Aerisia, its makeup, or its citizens, but I’d heard enough to know the Tearkin and the Warkin weren’t fans of each another. Silently, I wished Hannah luck dealing with them all, knowing that during the next couple of days even more Aerisian emissaries were supposed to arrive. I had a feeling she’d need all of the diplomacy she could muster, probably coupled with a healthy dose of her infamous stubbornness, to settle agreements among these groups.
I was proven right when something Prince Kurban was saying to Kirrian, the Sanlyn Chieftain, apparently irked Princess Vashti. I didn’t overhear the remark, only that he mentioned Tearkin lands or territories. Whatever he said, Vashti did not approve. Behind her wine goblet, she muttered, “Lands your ancestors stole from mine, Tearkin thief.”
Kurban’s head swiveled, and he pinned the princess with an unfriendly look. “I beg your pardon, Your Majesty. Lands my ancestors stole from yours? Your great-great-grandfather’s grandfather robbed them from my sire during the siege of Ironhand. Or had you forgotten?”
“If your giants had not been taking prey from our dragons, there would have been no siege,” Vashti countered, slamming down her goblet and leaning across the table. She was less than half the giant’s size, but utterly unfazed. Her golden eyes, the same color as her dragon’s and distinct from the majority of green-eyed Aerisians, reflected back the candlelight.
“Oh ho, your dragons were so weak they could not defend flocks of sheep from Tearkin raiders?”
At that, the princess bolted upright at the table, her nostrils flaring in fury. Everyone’s head turned her direction. Hannah half-rose, starting to speak, but, to my surprise, it was Lord Contrey who saved the day.
“Hold,” he said sternly, rising from his seat. “No call for that, my prince. And you, Princess—” Pushing back his chair, he walked over to hers, grasping its tall back. “I will tell you the truth of that raid and that day, if you care to hear, but only if you reseat yourself as a guest at our Artan’s table.”
His tone was polite but authoritative. Slowly, the Warkin princess turned her glare from Kurban, frowning over her shoulder at the Simathe lord.
“You tell me the tale? You presume to know Warkin history better than a Warkin ruler?”
“I know it because I witnessed it,” the Simathe lord returned calmly.
“That was more than six centuries ago,” she said, the edge of anger slipping and her confusion showing.
“What are six centuries to a Simathe?” There was almost a twinkle in those obsidian eyes. “Please, Your Majesty. For the sake of our host—”
Reluctantly, she plunked back down in the chair, tossing her curls over her shoulder as Lord Contrey readjusted her chair at the table, then resumed his own place.
By now, the entire room was silent. Everyone watched to see what would become of the conflict. To me, it was obvious if the Simathe lord hadn’t intervened the scene between Prince Kurban and Princess Vashti might have escalated quickly. As it was, I, too was fixated on Lord Contrey as he reseated himself next to me, shocked to see a Simathe playing the part of a diplomat. Apparently, these men never ran out of roles to play. Lord Contrey addressed the Tearkin first.
“My prince, your raiders indeed overcame the Warkin dragons, but a plague had decimated the Dragonkind, both man and beast. The Tearkin took advantage of that, fairly or not, to slaughter the Warkin herds. They went further and devastated Warkin strongholds. If not for the actions of the princess’s grandfather, the Warkin might have been overrun altogether.”
“Not that this would be an evil thing,” muttered one of Kurban’s companions. The prince smirked in agreement but kept silent.
“And my grandfather retaliated by drawing leaders of all Warkin tribes together and laying siege to Ironhand,” Vashti said proudly.
“He did. Upon my advice,” agreed Lord Contrey.
Both the prince and the princess gawked at the Simathe lord.
“What? No, I cannot believe it! No Simathe has ever advised the Dragonkind.”
Princess Vashti was the first to speak. Her indignation was obvious.
“The Simathe assisted the Warkin?”
Prince Kurban spoke nearly on top of her words, and he was just as indignant.
Lord Contrey—all of the Simathe, really—were unfazed. I peeked at Hannah. She appeared as surprised as Kurban and Vashti. I recalled her telling me the Simathe maintained their own information network and had all sorts of secret activities going on in the background. I could only suspect this was one of them.
“Your ancestor was ill, dying,” Lord Contrey said bluntly to the Warkin woman. “He was Highest of the rank of Seven Suns. The Warkin would heed only him. He, alone, could prevent the Tearkin overrunning your people. However, he needed strength and guidance, which I gave him.”
The Warkin princess looked aghast. “You did not—did you Join with him?”
“Ha! A Simathe Join with a Warkin? Our common ancestors would be disquieted in their graves.” Prince Kurban barked a laugh.
Lord Contrey showed no humor. “The Scraggen would have also little liked the Tearkin slaughtering an entire race, my prince.”
Common ancestor?
I glanced from the Simathe lord to the Tearkin prince in confusion. I knew the Simathe had been created by the Scraggen, or witch-women. Did that mean the Tearkin had been, as well? Lord Contrey’s remark seemed to indicate it.
“A race that is naught but a blight upon the realm,” Kurban countered.
“Nevertheless,” Lord Contrey said firmly. The giant backed down, and the warrior turned back to Princess Vashti.
“Aye, I did Join with your ancestor. His strength was so dissipated that even Joining could not save his life, but it did prolong it. He rallied your people, won the siege of Ironhand, and bought time for the Warkin to recover from the plague and rebuild their strength.”
Princess Vashti’s bewilderment was evident. The Tearkin men looked equally confused, but also unhappy.
“You mean to tell me,” Prince Kurban said, leaning across the table towards the Simathe lord by my side, “that the men of Treygon assisted the Warkin, even to the point of Joining with one of their rulers? What of all the times the Simathe assisted the Tearkin? Is this the way of it, then? You select sides on a whim, intervening where you have no business?”
“The men of Treygon assist where I command they assist, Prince,” spoke up the Simathe High-Chief. The sternness in his demeanor, the steel in his voice, brooked no disagreement. “When an entire race is threatened with extinction, we intervene as we deem necessary, whether they be Warkin, Tearkin, or anyone else.”
Prince Kurban glared back at the Simathe ruler but didn’t argue. Princess Vashti, fingers on her temples, muttered, “I cannot fathom my ancestor being Joined to a Simathe!”
“It was not for long,” Contrey said calmly. “Death severed our bond in less than three years. Joining merely forestalled the inevitable.”
The Warkin woman looked so confused, but she couldn’t possibly have been more confused than me.
“What’s Joining?” I asked into the awkward silence that had fallen.
Everyone turned to look at me. I felt like this was something they expected I should know, that should’ve already been explained, but had somehow been overlooked. I could hardly blame them. There was so much to know, and everything I did learn invited more questions.
Finally, Lord Contrey said to me, “It is an ability, unique to the Simathe, whereby we are able to meld our consciousness with another’s.”
“Like…you can read their mind?”
“Not entirely,” the Simathe explained. “When Joined, we know their whereabouts and sense many of their stronger emotions, those we choose to sense: fear, hatred, joy. We cannot read thoughts, but we can often deduce what is being thought.”
I can’t deny I was a little perturbed. “Why would anybody want to do that?” I asked.
“It is rarely done,” Lord Contrey said with a flitting smile. “To experience another’s sentiments is a trying thing. It is done only in extreme circumstances, when protecting or prolonging another’s life is paramount.”
“Prolonging?”
“By virtue of being Joined, a portion of the immortal’s life force is imparted,” the Moonkind Tredsday, Hannah’s Uncle Risean, put it. “This means the other person’s life may be considerably lengthened.”
I suppose I wasn’t doing very well at hiding my shock because Hannah spoke up. Quietly, reaching across to take his hand, she said, “Ilgard and I are Joined.”
I fought to keep my expression neutral. “No way.”
“We are,” she chuckled. “And you are definitely handling all of this information a lot better than I did when I first heard it. Of course, nobody’s telling you that you’re about to be Joined against your will, either, and giving you no choice in the matter,” she added, glancing about the table with a hint of reproach.
“It was necessary at the time,” the Simathe High-Chief replied calmly.
“I agree that it was, but it could’ve been handled differently. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Why was it necessary?” I put in.
“Why? My life was in danger almost from the moment I arrived in Aerisia. I was attacked by The Evil the first night I spent here. I did desperately need the kind of protection Joining gives. I just didn’t want to acknowledge it.
“Do you remember,” she said, turning to her husband with a grin, “how furious I was when they explained Joining and how I was going to be Joined to you?”
“You were displeased,” he agreed.
“That’s putting it mildly!”
“She had the entire Council chamber in an uproar,” Rittean put in. “I cannot fault her. But I do not think any of us expected our Artan to be so—defiant. Or so verbal.”
This made Hannah laugh outright. “I didn’t keep in what I thought, did I?” She turned back to her husband, smiling still, a softness in her eyes that almost defied belief. “I know it’s hard to accept, but you can get used to Joining. I’m not gonna lie: it was a big adjustment. But it’s good now. There are definite benefits.”
“If you say so,” I murmured.
The very notion went against everything I believed, everything I was. However, there was also no denying that Hannah had made peace with the fact, and clearly didn’t mind it at all. Was that because she’d simply gotten used to it? Or was it more than that? Could love soften the effects of something like Joining?
I resisted glancing across the table at another Simathe lord, one who’d undeniably captured my attention from the beginning. No, I couldn’t imagine being Joined, even to him. Still, I also couldn’t deny a certain interest at the idea of being closely linked to a man like him.
Chapter 32
Visitors
The next few days were a whirlwind of activity in Laytrii’s palace. The final emissaries had arrived, and Hannah was swept away from me and into meeting after meeting. I felt a little adrift and at loose ends, not having her to hang out with. We still spent time together, but not like before. She was having to be a diplomat now. Not to mention, her husband was with her, which sort of threw a damper on the chance for more long, private talks. Finally, I decided I’d have to entertain myself. When I wasn’t sitting in on meetings—which I did, some of them—I searched around the palace, meeting new folks and seeing firsthand how everything was run. I went down to the kitchens and watched the massive undertakings to prepare meals for not only palace residents but all of the guests. I visited the bakery, located in a separate building outdoors. Quickly, I saw they were way too busy and also understaffed.
