Elizabeth Haydon - Destiny - Child of the Sky

“ ’Twill never be over,” Oelendra said hollowly. “Never. “Instead of using the information she gave me, taking my one chance to destroy it forever, I bolted; I hid. I waited until dawn had come, and then I went for a walk to clear my head of the accusations that were pounding in it. I could not escape them. ’Twas my duty as Iliachenva’ar to have gone, no matter the risk to myself. So I steeled my nerve and went to the House, hoping it was still there, though its power would no longer be on the wane.

“That’s when I found you, Gwydion, broken and dying on the grass in the forest of Navarne. Llauron had said he might send reinforcements, but I had no idea ’twas you, or that you would go in alone when I didn’t come. ’Twas my cowardice that destroyed your life;’tis my fault that you have lived in the agony you have, hidden from your family and loved ones, dead in the eyes of the world these twenty years. Those children that the Rakshas sired, that is because of me.” Tears began to fall from the silver eyes.

Ashe held her against his shoulder, trying to think of something to say that would impart comfort to her in her despair. “Rhapsody loves those chil dren,” he said gently. “They gave Achmed the weapon to find the benison. I never would have lived this long if I had not been required to hide, pretending to be dead. Given my lineage, I would have been among the first it assassinated anyway. It was my own father that sent me against the demon; how can I hate you, and not him? I prefer not to, if you don’t mind. What is it you Liringlas say again? Ryle him . Life is what it is. Forgive yourself; believe me, the world looks better when you do; I know. It is something Rhapsody and I learned together.”

At the mention of her name, his face changed, twisting into fear again. “Rhapsody. She’s probably fighting the F’dor now; gods, she may be dying, and I can do nothing to help her.” He began to tremble again.

Oelendra wiped her eyes. “ ’Tis difficult, is it not?” she said, resting her hand on his shoulder. “ ’Twas far easier facing my own death than to sit helplessly while someone I love faces hers. I wish I could go and do it for her, make certain she is safe. You have no idea how many men and women I have seen march off to meet their fate, Gwydion. One would think that after a time you would get used to it, but you never do. Not when’tis someone you love.”

His voice was full of pain. “How do you bear it?”

“The best way is to sit vigil with someone else who loves her. You can carry the burden together.”

Ashe looked up and Oelendra met his gaze. They took one another’s hands and sat together, waiting. After a while they began to tell each other stories of Rhapsody, sharing their love for her, their memories of her. Eventually the worry became too strong, and they grew silent.

Finally Ashe looked at the sky; dawn was coming, the stars beginning to fade in the lightening horizon. “Gods, it’s over, don’t you think?”

“

“Tis done.” Oelendra sighed, her eyes still on the darkness of the sky above her.

“It must be.”

They stood. Oelendra did so slowly, feeling the great aching pain in her knees. Ashe pulled up the hood of his cloak.

“I will go to Elysian and wait.”

“Do that,” Oelendra said, picking up her small pack. “She will be happy to see you. And please, send word.”

“I will.” A grisly thought occurred to him. “One way or another. If they didn’t make it—”

“If they didn’t, we will think of a way to lure the benison here, and then we will kill him.”

Ashe nodded silently and turned away.

“Gwydion,” Oelendra said as he stood at the edge of the clearing, “you remind me more of the Kings of Serendair than you resemble the Lord of the Cymrians. I am glad to see that the star was well placed.”

Ashe smiled at the ancient woman. “Thank you.” He took a step, then looked back again. “And I am glad Rhapsody asked me to guide her to you. She is lucky to have you for a friend.”

-

Oelendra smiled. “I suppose that makes me your friend-in-law.” Ashe returned her smile, then walked away silently into the woods. Oelendra went back to the dying fire and absently kicked dirt over the remaining coals. She looked once more at the shell of the House of Remembrance and walked off into the forest.

The wind over the Krevensfield Plain dipped low into the swale, causing the hidden fire to crackle and leap for a moment, sparks flying skyward, only to settle into a sullen smolder once more. The Three glanced around automatically, scanning the horizon for eyes that might have seen the embers. The two smaller travelers turned to the giant, who shook his head, then settled back and exhaled softly. Grunthor knew the earth; if there had been anyone upon it within sight, he would have felt him.

Rhapsody reached into the coals. “ Slypka ,” she said. Extinguish . The flames sank immediately into the ashes, taking the light with them.

“Get some sleep,” Achmed said to her, drawing the hooded cloak over his shoulders. “You look tired.”

Grunthor put his arm around her and drew her against his chest. “Nothin’ to worry about, darlin’. We can take ’im. Rest ’ere now. It’ll be like old times.” He grinned at her, tusks protruding from his jaw in a manner Rhapsody had come to find consummately endearing, though she knew a stranger would find the sight paralyzing.

He was reading her mind. The killing of the demon was ultimately to be her task; in the darkness in the middle of the open night, nothing but stars to witness the plans they had laid, she was feeling suddenly small and vulnerable. She did not fear her own death. It was the prospect of failure that had her shaking now from more than the cold.

Gratefully she came into the greatcoat that the Sergeant held open for her, closing warmth around her as he had within the Root long ago. She let loose a sigh full of memory. Aside from the dragons she had slept beside, Grunthor was the only one in the world that could keep her safe from her own dreams. She laid an arm across the broad waist, hoping desperately he would be alive to repeat the sleeping arrangement the next night. The knowledge that she had never been in a fight like the one they were facing on the morrow was terrifying to her.

The huge hand patted her head awkwardly and Rhapsody relaxed into sleep. Grunthor waited until the rhythmic pattern of her breathing indicated that the depth of her slumber was such that they could speak without fear of her hearing. Then he looked at Achmed. “What’s the fallback, sir?”

Achmed looked up into the sky, remembering a night beneath different stars long ago, broken by a summer rain. They were on the other side of the world now, seeking out a demon like the one they had run from then. His name was his own, no longer an invisible collar around his neck. And they were three, not two; an unluckier number according to the soothsayers, though it was hard to believe, given the addition to their team curled up in Grunthor’s arms.

“Once it begins, it’s her fight—and yours. I can only concentrate on the Thrall ritual,” he said softly, the natural sand in his voice growing even drier. “As long as the Thrall ritual is intact, I will maintain it to the exclusion of all else. If she becomes unable to fight, take her sword and kill it if you can.” The Bolg nodded. “If the Thrall ritual stops, the demon will have fled its present host. Kill whoever is still breathing.” Grunthor nodded again.

“She’s up to the task, ain’t ya, Yer Ladyship?” he said softly, rubbing his hand over her back. Rhapsody nodded in her sleep, whispering words that even she did not hear.