Sharon Shinn - Reader And Raelynx

Kirra gasped and doubled over, her unbound hair falling over her shoulders and trailing on the floor. The serving girls gaped at her, then hurriedly gathered up more plates and left the room.

“Kirra,” Cammon said, grabbing her shoulders, pulling her upright, and taking her in a rough embrace. He sent out a frantic call for Senneth, careful not to alert Donnal that there was any trouble. “Kirra. Kirra. Sit down a minute. You’re trembling. Do you want some wine?”

She shook her head. “No-I’m-I’ll be fine. I’ve seen him a half dozen times since last summer, it shouldn’t still be so hard. But when he looks at me-and he doesn’t remember-and yet he almost remembers…Cammon, it is like I can’t breathe.”

“I know,” he said, tightening his arms around her. For a long moment, they stood in silence, Kirra trembling in Cammon’s embrace. He could feel the despair inside her chest, like a silver bubble the size of a clenched fist. He stroked one hand over her curly hair and imagined that silver turning to white, iridescing, and slowly shimmering away into nothing.

She jerked upright in his arms and pulled away, staring at him in wonder. “What did you do?” she asked suspiciously. She was trying to frown but Cammon could pick up her sense of overwhelming relief.

He opened his eyes wide, to indicate innocence. “What? Nothing.”

“Yes, you did-you-I don’t feel so bad. All of a sudden. You did something.”

“Well-”

But he didn’t have to answer. Senneth came skidding in from the kitchen door, Tayse a pace behind her. She looked apprehensive and he savage. Tayse had a knife already loose in his hand.

“What’s wrong?” the Rider demanded. He glanced around. “Where’s Amalie?”

“Amalie’s fine,” Cammon said. He should have realized Senneth would bring Tayse along to any nonspecific emergency. “I was worried about Kirra.”

Now Tayse’s gaze locked on Kirra, but since she wasn’t bleeding, he instantly dismissed any concerns about her immediate danger. “What’s wrong with her?”

Kirra had freed herself completely from Cammon’s hold and was smoothing down her hair and gown. “Nothing. I’m fine. Everyone is alive and healthy.”

“Then why did Cammon call for us?”

But Senneth had figured it out. Her gray eyes glanced quickly around the room and she mentally peopled the chairs with noble guests. “I suppose the regent is in the other room with his niece,” she said.

Kirra smiled with an effort. “I suppose he is.”

Comprehension came to Tayse’s face. Not until that moment did he sheathe his weapon. “Well, one thing we know,” he said, not sounding at all disgruntled about rushing to a rescue that turned out to be unnecessary, “Cammon can certainly grab our attention when he needs us. That’ll work in our favor someday.”

Cammon nodded. Senneth took Kirra’s arm. “Are you expected in the salon? Or can you come with us?”

Kirra nodded her head toward Cammon. “He came in and announced that you needed me. So I don’t think anyone will mind if I disappear with you now.”

“Good. Then come back and help me go through all the linens we bought today. You know I’m hopeless with household goods.”

Kirra smiled. “That sounds like a marvelous idea.”

They turned toward the door to the kitchen, Tayse in the lead, Senneth still keeping one hand firmly on Kirra’s arm. But Kirra turned back once to give Cammon a wide-eyed look and mouth the word thanks. Senneth also glanced back before she disappeared through the door, but her own expression was narrowed and thoughtful. He had surprised her again, he could tell, and she was annoyed at herself for continuing to be astonished. As the door closed between them, she kept her eyes on his face, and he could practically hear the words in her head: What else is this boy capable of?

INthe morning, Delt Helven was gone and no new beaux were expected until tomorrow. Milo, clearly disapproving, told Cammon that the princess wanted his company anyway. Cammon donned another clean uniform and hurried to the rose study.

He was surprised to find Donnal leaving just as he arrived. Donnal must have interpreted his expression, for a smile showed through his dark beard.

“What are you doing here?” Cammon asked.

“I always visit the princess whenever Kirra and I first arrive,” Donnal replied. “We became friendly last summer when I guarded her rooms, so she likes me to drop by.” He shrugged slightly. Donnal was used to obeying the orders of imperious women. It wouldn’t occur to him to refuse. “I think she enjoys the company now and then.”

It was stupid to feel even the smallest spurt of jealousy. Donnal had only recently become Kirra’s lover, but he had been devoted to her most of his life. Lucky for Cammon, Donnal was a shape-shifter, not a reader. “That’s kind of you,” Cammon said. “I think she’s often lonely.”

“She has the queen for company,” Donnal replied.

Cammon laughed. “I’m not sure Valri is always entertaining.”

Donnal nodded expressively and departed. Cammon shook off his mood and pushed open the study door.

Valri was sitting at a desk in the corner, apparently writing out correspondence. She glanced up when Cammon entered, but immediately returned her attention to her letter. Amalie waved him over from where she sat in one of the chairs grouped before the window. On a table nearby rested a whole tray full of after-breakfast treats.

Cammon settled beside her and happily picked out a tart. “What horrible weather,” Amalie said in greeting. Instead of the sunshine they had enjoyed for the past few days, lashing winds tossed around low gray clouds, and angry rain spit against the glass.

“Glad I’m not a Rider today,” Cammon said with some satisfaction. “These are the days they make it a point to practice outside. Just to prove to themselves weather won’t slow them down in a battle.”

“That would seem to be a very welcome sort of magic,” the princess observed, “the ability to dissipate the weather. Bring on the sun, or call in the rain. Do any mystics have such a gift?”

“Not that I’ve ever heard,” he said. “But that would be an excellent gift.”

“I don’t know much about magic,” Amalie said. “What kinds there are-and why some people have it and some people don’t.”

“Senneth thinks magic is a gift from the gods,” he said. “And that there are a dozen or so gods-most of them forgotten. The Bright Mother is the goddess of the sun, and she passes on the ability to call fire, at least that’s what Senneth thinks. Kirra has begun to send her prayers to the Wild Mother, who watches over all the beasts.”

“That makes sense, because Kirra so often takes animal shape,” said Amalie. “What other gods are there?”

“The people of the Lirrens worship the Dark Watcher, or the Black Mother, who apparently offers them all sorts of powers. Justin’s wife, Ellynor, is a healer, but she also has the ability to hide herself, literally make herself disappear. She says her brothers can do the same thing. I suppose the Black Mother is a goddess of secrets. Things you whisper in the middle of the night.”

Amalie smiled. “I like that. But what about you? Who gives you your power?”

“I have no idea. I can sense things that have intensity and motion. Does that ability come from a god of air or water? I see people’s true souls and hear their true thoughts. Perhaps there is a god of mirrors, and whatever glass he holds up only reflects the truth. I don’t know.”

She put her head to one side, and even without benefit of bright sun, her strawberry hair shone with a captive gold. “I wonder where you might find legends about the ancient gods. Perhaps in the palace library there are old theology books.”