Elizabeth Haydon - Destiny - Child of the Sky

Don’t underestimate your power alone. You have been working as part of a trio too long.”

She said nothing, but continued to meet his gaze. Finally Llauron threw up his hands, relenting.

“All right, I’ll make certain that Khaddyr and his men are just outside the barracks of the gladiatorial complex so that once you have rendered him unconscious, they can come in and help you get him out of there. Now, look at the diagram of the complex again. Here is an alcove you can hide in on the outside if you need to. I would suggest you enter the city here; this will be the easiest entrance and egress, especially if you and the others are dragging an unconscious gladiator.”

“How am I supposed to make him unconscious?”

Llauron went to the table. “I have that all arranged.” He lifted a small pouch up for her to see, and pulled from it a clear, stoppered bottle. “This will render him unconscious in a matter of seconds once he inhales it. Be sure you don’t do so yourself, by the way. There’s enough in here to work initially and keep him in a stupor until you get to Tyrian. Don’t waste it.” He slipped it back into the pouch and handed it to her. “Thank you,” Rhapsody said.

“Try and see if you can make him gasp as he inhales it; doubtless it will work better that way.”

“And how am I supposed to do that—scare him? Tell him a joke?” Llauron’s eyes twinkled in a way Rhapsody found disturbing. “I’m sure you’ll think of something, Rhapsody.” His reaction made her draw the cloak closer about her.

“I still am not certain of this costume.”

“For goodness’ sake, they’ll think you’re a healer. They run around in the complex dressed like that all the time. Besides, after he’s fought a bout for his life, the only thing the gladiator will want from you is medical attention, and perhaps a massage.

“You needn’t worry that your virtue is in jeopardy.” There was a terseness to his tone that Rhapsody didn’t like. Llauron’s voice became softer, as if he were reading her thoughts. “Not only are the gladiators forbidden to engage in sexual relations before an impending bout, but after a bout they are in no condition to do so. You’ll be nothing more than a pair of hands administering relief to his pain. He won’t even look at you twice; or do you think you have some special appeal that will make the men notice you when they are used to all women being attired like this?”

“No,” she admitted.

“Then please, relax. It will be a good experience for you to see how people in other cultures live. Now, I think you should leave the sword here while you’re gone, just in case.”

“I had thought about that already,” she said, looking out the window into the darkness. “I left it with Oelendra.” She could feel the same tingle in the air that came about when Ashe was annoyed or angry but not willing to say so.

-

“Very well, then, I believe we have a plan. Just remember, if you get lost inside the complex, follow the heat; it will lead you to the hot springs near the arena. I will not be informing Khaddyr or anyone else about this until the very last moment, just to ensure that no one overhears. Speaking of Khaddyr, I have to go check in on some of his patients, victims of another senseless raid.”

Rhapsody sat up. “Do you need some help? I brought my herbs with me; my new harp as well.”

“No, no; their injuries are minor, and they’re undoubtedly sleeping by this time. Besides, we want to keep your presence here a secret. Did anyone see you come through the hidden entrance?”

“No, I’m certain not. I was careful.”

“Who knows you came to see me?”

“Only Oelendra. And Gwen.”

“Good. Now get some sleep, my dear; you’ll need to leave quite early.” Llauron gave her a kiss on the cheek and left her room, closing the door gently behind him.

Rhapsody watched him go and sat in silence for a long time afterward. Something was not adding up to her, but she couldn’t place it. She knew that if Llauron was wrong about any element of the plan it could be disastrous, but contemplating that was more than she could bear.

She took off the cloak and the flimsy scarves of the slave-girl costume, then rummaged for her nightgown and dressed, thinking of Ashe. He would have gone with her in a heartbeat; would have been impossible to keep away, in fact, which was why she had not told him about the mission.

She pulled back the blankets and covered herself over, thinking of home. Ryle him , the Ancient Lirin saying; life is what it is. All this had come to pass from the evil of the F’dor. Evet ra biro- mir lumine , but you can make what it is better, her own motto. If she could save the children, even this one, separate out the blood as a tracer for Achmed to find the demon, and help the children to heal, perhaps by the time she told Ashe everything the ending would be happy enough to forestall the pain. She sighed at the thought, and drifted into the nightmares that had returned with the loss of the dragon who had guarded her dreams.

She stood at the window, listening to the north wind moan through the pale mountain crags as it always did, keening its haunting song. The fire on the immense hearth burned cold and silent in the shadows of her otherwise dark lair. Its light reflected off the tall panes of thick glass before her, causing her coppery hair to shine incandescently, waves of red-gold illumination blanketing the frosty, barren peaks beyond.

_

Another night of lonely vigil, no different than the others had been these last few centuries, here within the lifeless mountains.

The Seer looked down at the tarnished spyglass in her hands, gleaming dully in the reflection of the fire as well. She closed her eyes, feeling the pull, almost erotic in its intensity, of the power that lay dormant within the artifact. She opened one eye and raised the scrying instrument to it once more, scanning the waves of Time, looking for a comforting memory to keep her warm on yet another frozen, empty night, but found nothing that soothed, only a history of silent accusation. She lowered the glass.

My flame.

She whirled in shock at the sound of the rich, sweet voice, thin and crackling. Her vibrantly blue eyes darted around the vast chamber with serpentine quickness, their vertical pupils expanding with the increase in the beating of her three-chambered heart.

Here, sweet.

Slowly she set the spyglass back on its altar and walked cautiously toward the fire, burning darker now. The flames twisted and danced in anticipation at her approach.

“To the Void with you,” she whispered. “You dare to come to me? After all this time?”

From within the cold, dark fire she could hear an unmistakable chuckle.

Now, my dear, don’t be petulant. I come as I am able. You know this.

“Four hundred years?” she spat, drawing her brocade gown closer about her broad, thin shoulders. “You come only when it benefits you. What do you want this time?”

The firelight twinkled, almost merrily, but with an undertone that was sinister.

I’ve missed you . She turned angrily away in a swirl of ancient silk. And the time is coming soon. I thought perhaps you might wish to be ready .

“Curse your riddles. What do you want?”

A firecoal spattered, then exploded with a sharp pop , followed by a sustained hiss.

You, my love , the silky voice whispered from deep within the flames.

Something within the depths of her loneliness began to sting painfully.

“Begone,” she murmured, keeping her back to the hearth. “I have done as you asked. Look well on what became of it.” She gestured angrily at the immense, cavernous castle, empty and sparse. “You promised me sole dominion, and you fulfilled your oath—here I dwell, Queen Undisputed of the frozen world, banished from all I held dear, forgotten in the sight of the world and the minds of men. A thing of the Past; how ironic. I want no more of your hollow promises, no more of you. Begone.”