Patricia Briggs - Raven's Shadow

“It’s not safe for your cousins here,” he warned.

She smiled like a wolf scenting prey. “Oh they know that,” she said. “I just hope these solsenti of the Secret Path choose to try their tricks again.” Her tongue lingered on “Secret Path,” making it sound childish and stupid, which, of course, it was.

“You know about the Secret Path?” he said.

“We know about the Secret Path,” said Lehr. “They’re killing Travelers and stealing their Orders.”

“What?” said Tier, looking at Seraph.

She nodded. “They take them from the dying Traveler and place them in a stone that they wear on jewelry so that they can use them.”

“How did you find out so much?” he asked.

“Hennea told us,” said Jes helpfully.

“My cousin,” agreed Seraph.

“They have someone in Redern who has been watching our whole family,” said Tier.

“Not anymore,” said his wife coolly.

“Mother killed him.” Jes had found a perch on top of a small table and was playing with the vase that had occupied the table first.

Tier glanced back at Myrceria. “I told you they’d be sorry if they ever ran afoul of my wife. Myrceria, I’d like you to meet my family. My wife, Seraph; my eldest son, Jes; and my youngest son, Lehr. Seraph, Jes, Lehr, this is Myrceria, who has helped make my captivity bearable.”

Jes nodded with the shy manner that characterized him in front of strangers, Lehr made a stiff bow, and Seraph turned on her heel and walked out the door.

Lehr’s smile died, so Tier took a moment to explain to him. “She knows me too well to think I’ve taken a mistress after all these years—as you should. Myrceria is an ally, so be polite. I need to take a moment with your mother.”

He followed Seraph and closed the door behind him softly. Seraph was studying the stone wall of the hall as if she’d never seen stone laid upon stone before. They were safe enough, he thought. Anyone who walked down this hall was coming to see him—and at this hour that meant one of the Passerines. There was time, so he waited for her to show him what she needed from him.

“There is death magic in these stones,” she said. She didn’t sound as if it bothered her.

“They’ve been killing people for a long time,” he said. “There’s a message awaiting you in Redern telling you that I’m still alive. It should have gotten there by now.”

“Hopefully someone will direct the messenger to Alinath,” said Seraph, without looking away from the wall. She set a palm against it and said, “Once we convinced her you were alive when you left, she was most eager to hear if you’d stayed that way.”

She pushed away from the wall abruptly. When she turned toward him he thought she’d look at him at last, but her eyes caught on the floor and stayed there.

“We need to get you out of here,” she said in a low voice. “This place is a labyrinth, but Lehr found you, which was the difficult part. He’ll be able to backtrack on the way out.”

“I can’t leave, Seraph,” he said.

Her face came up at that.

“There’s a boy about Jes’s age who’s going to be hurt because of me if I can’t put a stop to it—and they’ve put some sort of hex on me anyway so I can’t wander around at will.”

She reached out to touch him for the first time since she’d appeared at his door. Gripping his hands lightly, she turned his hands over to look at his wrists.

“I can break this,” she said positively after a moment. “But it will take time—and will do us no good, since as long as this boy of yours is in danger you won’t leave anyway.”

He twisted his hands until he could grip hers. “Seraph,” he said. “It’s all right, now.”

Her hands shook in his but he could only see the top of her head. “I thought you were dead,” she said.

She looked up, and the empress was gone, lost in a face wild with emotion. Unexpectedly he felt the lick of her magic caress his palms.

“I can’t do that again,” she told him. “I can’t lose anyone I love again.”

“You love me?” He moved his hands to her shoulders and pulled her close. She leaned against him like a tired infant.

It was the first time she’d said that to him, though he knew that she loved him with the same fierceness that she loved her children. She had been trained to maintain control, and he knew that she was uncomfortable with the strength of the emotions she felt. Because he understood her, he’d never pushed her to tell him something that he’d known full well.

He knew it would make her angry but he had to tease her. “I had to get myself kidnapped by a bunch of stupid wizards and dragged halfway across the Empire to hear that? If I’d known that’s what it would take, I’d have gotten myself kidnapped twenty years ago.”

“It’s not funny,” she said, stomping on his foot in her effort to get away from him.

“No, it’s not,” he said, pulling her tighter. The ferocious joy of holding her when he’d been half-certain he’d never see her again kept him teasing her beyond prudence. “So why didn’t you tell me you loved me before? Twenty years didn’t give you enough time? Or did you only figure it out when you thought I was dead?”

“Oh, aye, if I’d have told you—you’d just have said the same back,” she said.

Her answer made no sense to him—except that she really didn’t find anything amusing in the situation. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings, so he tucked the laughter of her presence inside his heart and tried to understand what had upset her.

“If you had told me that you loved me,” he said carefully, “I’d have told you the same.”

“You wouldn’t have meant it,” she said firmly. “Haven’t you spent the last twenty years trying to make up for marrying me by being the perfect husband and father?”

Her words stung, so his were a little sharp in return. “I’d have meant it.”

“You married a woman you thought a child, married her so that you would not have to take over the bakery from Alinath and Bandor. You felt guilty.”

“Of course I did,” he agreed. “I told them we were married. I did it knowing that you were too young for marriage and that you would have to give up your magic and your people. I knew that you were frightened of rejoining the Travelers and having to take responsibility for so many lives again—but I knew that was where you felt you belonged and I kept you with me.”

“You did it to save yourself from being forced into the bakery,” Seraph said. “And that made you feel guilty. If I’d told you then that I loved you—you’d have said you loved me, too, because you wouldn’t hurt my feelings.”

Abruptly Tier understood. He pulled her back to him and laughed. He started to speak, but he had to laugh again first. “Seraph,” he said. “Seraph, I was never going to be a baker—even Alinath knew that. I wanted you. And I was extremely glad that circumstances forced you to turn to me. I don’t know that I loved you then—I just knew that I couldn’t let you get away from me.” He stepped back so he could look into her face. “I love you, Seraph.”

He watched, delighted, as tears filled her eyes and spilled over, then he kissed her.

“I was so afraid,” she said when she could talk. “I was so afraid that we’d be too late.” She sniffed. “Plague it, Tier, my nose is running. I don’t suppose you have something I can wipe it on?”

He pulled back and stripped off his overshirt and handed it to her.

“Tier,” she said, scandalized, “that is silk.”

“And we didn’t pay for it. Here, blow.”

She did. He wadded up the shirt and wiped her eyes with a clean spot. Then, the expression in his eyes holding her motionless, he tossed the shirt on the floor. He put a hand on either side of her face and kissed her, open-mouthed and hungry.