Lynn Flewelling - The Oracle's Queen

“Perhaps nothing, perhaps everything. It’s Illior’s will that you have the burden of both the bowl and the queen. You are up to the task, you know. I never would have given either of them into your keeping if I didn’t believe that.”

“Will I ever see you again?”

She patted his arm. “I’m only banished, my dear, not dead. I’ll send word.”

“Brother will come after you. I think he followed you.” Arkoniel searched the shadows nervously.

“I can handle him. I always have.”

He watched forlornly as she led her horse out to the mounting block and climbed slowly into the saddle. “Your pack! Wait and I’ll go fetch it. Tamír said you have until dawn.”

“No need, Arkoniel. I didn’t bring anything important.” She reached for his hand again. “Promise me you’ll stay. It was time she knew the truth, but now she must accept it and get on with things. Help her do that, Arkoniel. You may not believe it tonight, and perhaps she wouldn’t either, but she does trust you. You, Tharin, and Ki are all she has left of anything like family. Love her as you always have and don’t hold this against her.”

He clung to her hand a moment longer, feeling a bit like Wythnir. “At least let me fetch you a cloak. It’s cold.”

“All right then, but hurry!”

Arkoniel ran back to the guesthouse and grabbed Iya’s old traveling cloak from a peg by her door. He was gone no more than a few moments, but when he came back the square was empty. There was no sign of her, not even the sound of her horse’s hooves. He ran down the track that led to the Keyhole, hoping to catch her. The whole valley was bright with starlight, but the road was empty in both directions.

He had no doubt she was there somewhere, but she’d always been adept at not being seen. She’d used the same magic the night they’d brought Lhel to the keep, but she’d never before used it to hide from him.

“Good luck!” he shouted at the empty road, standing there with her cloak knotted in his hands. His voice echoed hollowly across the pass. “I’ll do all you said. I will! And—and thank you!” His voice failed him as fresh tears made the stars dance overhead. “I won’t forget you,” he whispered.

His only answer was the distant hunting cry of an owl.

Not caring what sentries there might be watching, he pressed his face into his beloved teacher’s abandoned cloak and wept.

Spurred by the fear and anger in Arkoniel’s voice, Ki forgot his own trepidation and hurried to Tamír’s chamber. Lynx and Nikides stood listening at the door with obvious concern.

“Now what’s happened?” he whispered.

“She banished Mistress Iya, I think, and maybe Arkoniel,” Lynx told him. “There was a lot of shouting and I swear the floor shook. Then we heard her yelling at them to get out—”

“Yes, I saw him just now. Arkoniel sent me.”

“She doesn’t want to see anyone. She gave orders,” Nikides told him apologetically.

“She’ll see me.”

Lynx stepped back, motioning for Nikides to do the same. Ki nodded his thanks and lifted the latch.

Tamír sat on a low stool in front of the fire, arms locked tightly around her knees. Brother was crouched beside her, his face a mask of fury, and he was hissing angrily at her, too low for Ki to hear. The air was thick with menace. As he watched, Brother slowly reached out to her. Ki drew his blade and rushed the demon. “Don’t touch her!”

Brother whirled and flew at him.

“No!” Tamír shouted.

Brother leered as he continued his rush, and Ki felt a deadly chill surround him. The demon disappeared. Ki’s sword fell from numbed fingers and he fought to stay on his feet as a wave of weakness passed over him.

Tamír sprang to his side, gripping his arm to steady him. “Did he hurt you?”

“No, just gave me a scare.”

“Good.” She released him and sat down again, turning her face away. “Go away, Ki. I don’t want to see anyone now.”

Ki pulled another stool close to hers and sat down. “That’s too bad, because I’m staying.”

“Get out. That’s an order.”

Ki stubbornly folded his arms.

She glared at him, then gave up and buried her face in her hands. “Iya and Lhel killed my brother.”

Somehow, that didn’t surprise him. He kept quiet, waiting for her to go on.

“It’s because of me that he is as he is now.”

“It’s not your fault. Bilairy’s balls, Tamír, you were only a baby yourself! I’m sure they only did it because they had to.”

“For Skala,” she said, her voice heavy with grief.

“I won’t say it was right, to use a baby so, but what if your uncle had found you and killed you? Where would Skala be then?”

“You sound just like them! I should have killed Iya for what she did. He was a prince of the blood. But—I couldn’t!” Her shoulders shook. “I just banished her and now Brother is more hateful than ever, and I don’t know how I’ll ever look at Arkoniel again—and I was just starting to trust him again, and—” She curled forward in a knot of misery.

Ki forgot the earlier tension between them and pulled her into his arms again. She didn’t weep, but her body was rigid and shaking. He stroked her hair again, and after a moment she relaxed just a little. Another moment and she put her arms around his waist and hid her face against his neck.

“Am I a monster, Ki? An unnatural thing?”

He tugged at a lock of her hair. “Don’t be stupid.”

She let out a choked laugh and sat up. “But you still see Tobin, don’t you?”

She looked fragile again, the way she had that night before he left to fight. “I see my friend, who I’ve loved from the day we met.”

“Loved. Like a brother,” she said bitterly. “What does that make me now? Your sister?”

The pain in her eyes twisted his heart. If not a sister, then what? Fear and confusion still held his tongue, but he hadn’t forgotten the look on her face when he’d called her by her boy’s name tonight, or how it had felt when she’d smiled at that handsome Aurënfaie over supper. Do I—? Could I—?

Those dark eyes widened as he leaned forward and tentatively touched his mouth to hers, trying to give her what she needed.

Her lips trembled against his for an instant, then she turned her face away. “What are you doing? I don’t need your pity, Ki.”

“It’s not.” Isn’t it? He hung his head. “I’m sorry.”

She sighed and rested her face in her hands again. “I can’t ask you to feel differently than you do.”

That was the problem. He didn’t know his own feelings. She’s a girl, damn it! You know how to please a girl! He pulled her to her feet, wrapped an arm around her waist, and kissed her more decisively this time.

She didn’t push him away, but her arms stayed at her sides, fists clenched. It wasn’t like kissing a boy, exactly, but it wasn’t a good kiss, either. There were tears and mistrust in her eyes when Ki released her.

“What are you going to do now, throw me on the bed?”

Defeated, he shook his head miserably. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that!”

“Damn it, Tamír, I’m trying!”

“I’m sorry it’s such a chore!”

They glared at each other for an instant, then Ki turned and slammed out of the room, telling himself it was a strategic retreat.

Before he could escape, Lynx caught him by the arm and propelled him right back into the chamber. “Get back in there, you coward!”

His unbalanced forward rush caught her on her feet, and they tumbled together onto the bed. The ropes groaned under them as they struggled to get free of each other. Panting and blushing, they retreated to opposite ends.