Chapter Thirteen
Shivering within the folds of her cloak, Elandra frowned against the snowflakes stinging her face and realized it was nearly twilight.
Caelan, wherever he had gone, should have been back by now ... if he meant to return at all. For the first time she wondered if he had abandoned her, believing her lost to the poison of the shadows.
Pain filled her heart. She had lost her opportunity, lost him before she understood what it meant to have him. Anger squared her shoulders, and for a moment she wanted to choke him for not giving her more time.
Yet, in fairness, how much time was he supposed to grant her? She had drawn away. She had refused him. She had reminded him of her marriage vows, pretending they were not false hypocrisy and clinging to them to ward off her fears.
Now Caelan was gone.
She pressed her hands to her lips, trying to hold back her emotions. He would not return. Just as he had left his sister behind, so now had he left her.
Her anger came surging back, trampling her grief. She wouldn’t stay here. She couldn’t hide in this cave forever, like a rabbit in a hole. How was she supposed to live? What was she supposed to eat? How was she supposed to occupy herself while he went forth without her?
Furious and frightened, she ran up the bank, telling herself he must have left tracks she could follow. Yet she knew she could never catch up with him if he had indeed left her.
Was she letting her fear command her common sense? Was he not instead only out hunting? She must believe he would return.
As she struggled up the bank, she saw him emerge from the woods into the clearing.
A cloak lined in fur hung from his broad shoulders, and he had acquired a sword from someplace. The scabbard tip showed just below the hem of his cloak.
For a moment she couldn’t believe he was there. She froze, unable to breathe or look away, waiting for him to notice her.
When he glanced up and saw her standing there, several emotions chased across his face. He started to smile, then frowned instead. He came running across the clearing and scooped her off her feet.
“Caelan!” she said in surprise. “Put me down.”
He was scowling as he carried her back toward the cave. “You mustn’t be outside. It isn’t safe.”
“Put me down. Caelan, stop!”
“It’s for your own safety. The cave is a place of sanctuary. It will keep the—”
“I no longer have the poison within me.”
He stopped in his tracks and stared at her, puzzlement filling his eyes. “How can this be?”
“It’s gone.”
“Are you saying it faded away? I don’t believe it.”
“No, I am not saying that. The Magria took it from me.”
He blinked. “The Magria?”
“The leader of the Penestricans. Don’t say you’ve never heard of her.”
“But where is she?” he asked, looking around. “How—”
“Never mind how,” Elandra said impatiently. His arms still held her effortlessly, and her heart was thudding too fast. She had never felt like this before—other than in her dreams. She felt fire in her cheeks, and pushed free of his embrace. Not until her feet were firmly on the ground did she dare trust her voice again.
“I am free, do you understand? Aren’t you pleased?”
“Yes, of course. I’m pleased, very pleased.” He found a smile for her, but it didn’t last long. He seemed restless, jumpy. He looked guilty, almost disappointed.
Frowning, she glared at him with disappointment of her own.
Men were brutes, every one of them. They had all the wit and understanding of a sack of flour.
She had thought he would be joyful. She expected him to sweep her into his powerful arms and kiss her. Instead he stood here, looking as though he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t, and he did nothing.
Right then, she almost hated him. Why couldn’t he look into her eyes and know that her heart had softened? She would rather be strangled than bend her pride enough to tell him so. If he couldn’t tell, then he didn’t care. She had misled herself. She was a fool.
“The emperor is dead,” she blurted out.
Caelan stared at her, and she could have bitten her own tongue. Her face was aflame, and she felt as though she’d been dipped in burning oil.
That wasn’t what she had meant to say, but now it was said, and he did need to know.
Only she wasn’t ready for the ambition to come surging back into his gaze. She wasn’t ready to see him square his shoulders and lift his head like a eagle. She had wanted a few more minutes of his attention, but already he was gazing into the distance, the wheels of his mind turning rapidly.
“How do you know this?” he asked.
“I was told by the Magria.”
Again he frowned. “Why did she come here? How—”
“To rescue me,” Elandra said, frowning back. “I told you that, Caelan E’non. Don’t you care?”
“My name is not E’non,” he interrupted sharply, a new tone in his voice that she hadn’t heard before. “I will not wear that name. Better I go nameless, like a bastard, than carry that.”
Her face went hot from an emotion other than passion, and she stepped away from him as though burned.
He stared at her with his brows raised. Then sudden comprehension dawned in his eyes. “Forgive me. I meant no slur against you.”
“Don’t apologize,” she said bitterly. “The facts of my birth are well known.”
Consternation filled his face. He reached out to her, but she backed away. Her back was rigid; her hands were clenched at her sides.
“Please,” he said. “Don’t be angry at me. I spoke without thinking. The things I learned today about my own parentage ... no matter. I have no right to take my anger out on you. Truly, I am glad that you have been healed.”
She stared at him, her eyes widening. “Are you saying your father isn’t—that you aren’t—”
Caelan’s jaw clenched hard.
“I’m sorry,” she said swiftly, trying to retreat. “I should not ask something so personal.”
A wry expression crossed his face, and he gave her a twisted little smile. “At least your parents are human,” he said bitterly. “At least your father could sire you without having to be enspelled. It seems I am something the Choven created in order to save the world.”
Elandra’s mouth fell open in astonishment. “The Choven!”
“Choven made, just like this sword,” he said, touching the hilt with his fingertips.
“But you are human.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know what I am. I am not sure they know. If they do, they will not say.”
“But—”
“At least it answers my questions about how I can do the things that I do.”
She did not like the bleak tone in his voice. She did not like the way his face shut her out.
“Don’t turn to granite, the way you do sometimes. Don’t pretend it doesn’t matter, when clearly it does. We have shared, remember?”
He didn’t look at her. “That was before.”
“And now?” she insisted, tugging at his sleeve to make him look at her. “Has your lust cooled already?”
Her bold question turned his face scarlet. He would not meet her eyes. “We should never have shared. Had I known—”
“What is different now from before?” she demanded. “You have learned truths you do not like. Are you the only one? Is it easy to stand isolated and detached from everyone? Is it better to hurt others before they hurt you? You shared yourself with me. We can’t ignore that, or forget it happened. Or can we? How could you do such a thing to me?”
“I didn’t mean—” His face contorted, and he turned away. “You don’t understand.”
“Then make me understand. Don’t shut me away from the truth.”
His eyes met hers then, and they were filled with torment. “I have been told my future,” he said hoarsely. “I am afraid of it.”
Her anger faded to compassion. She reached up to touch his cheek. He caught her hand and pressed his lips to it.
“I thought you didn’t care—wouldn’t care,” he whispered. “You said—”
“I know what I said,” she replied breathlessly. “I was a fool. But now I am free. I can admit what fills my heart.”
He released her hand abruptly and stepped back. “Don’t pity me.”
“I don’t—”
“Not human,” he said bleakly, staring across the clearing at nothing. “Not anything—”
“Stop it!” she shouted. “This whining self-pity is not like you. What has unmanned you so?”
He shook his head, looking ashamed.
“Is your destiny worse than mine? Have you suffered more than I? Take hold of your blessings, not your regrets. Are we not alive? And together? Is that not a place to begin anew?”
He bowed his head. “Yes, you are right. But I have less than before to offer you.”
“Do you think I care?”
There it was, her declaration thrown out in the open. She felt bolder than brass, afraid, but exhilarated too.
Caelan lifted his head and met her eyes. At once she felt as though she had been dipped in boiling water. She couldn’t breathe properly. Her thoughts were spinning.
Somehow she managed to continue her argument, although his eyes and hers seemed to be speaking in a language of their own. “Name one blessing given to you,” Elandra said sternly. “I have been saved from the darkness. That is one blessing for me. What about you?”
He swallowed, and she grew weak from watching the movement in his throat.
“Lea is alive,” he said hoarsely.
Astonishment filled Elandra, momentarily distracting her. “Alive! How is this possible? You said—”
“I know. I found her here.” He bit his lip and seemed to struggle for words. “There is too much to explain. But she is well and safe. The Choven have cared for her all these years.”
“The Choven again,” Elandra said in wonder. “It is surely a miracle. Caelan, how wonderful. Where is she? May I meet her?”
He glanced at the snowcapped mountains towering above the forest. “She’s up there.”
“I want to meet her. Why didn’t you bring her to me?”
His face clouded, and he shook his head. “It is not that simple.”
More secrets. She crossed her arms impatiently. “Why not? Caelan, you really don’t understand anything, do you?”
“No, I really don’t,” he retorted with equal heat. “I don’t understand how my sister can live half in and half out of the spirit-world without being a spirit herself. I don’t understand why she prefers the Choven and their ways to everyone else. I don’t understand how she could reach into the realm of shadow with her will and bring us here to her the moment we stepped through the Gate of Sorrows. Do you understand? If you do, please explain it to me.”
“Caelan—”
He strode away from her, head down, moving blind and fast.
Elandra hurried after him. “Wait. Caelan, I’m sorry. We are both too angry. We’re hurting each other without meaning to. Please stop, and let us try again.”
He halted, but kept his back to her. “What is there to try?” he asked wearily.
She frowned, feeling all sorts of emotions tangled inside her. Why did it have to be so hard? Why was he so hostile, so ready to turn away from her now that she at last wanted to turn to him?
“Perhaps we can try to be friends,” she said cautiously.
He snorted and swung around. “Friends?” he said.
She suddenly felt like a fool.
“I have a long journey,” he said, scowling at the ground. “I had best get started.”
Alarmed, she stared at him. Already she saw farewell in his eyes. Her heart turned to stone.
“And me?” she asked quietly. “Will you leave me behind, as once you left your sister?”
Pain flashed through his face. “That is not fair.”
“You are not fair!” she retorted. “Why are you hurting me like this? What have I done, to make you turn against me?”
“Elandra,” he said bleakly, “I face a task you cannot share. Here.” He drew his sword and held it out to her, hilt first. “Take it. Hold it a moment.”
“No,” she said.
“Take it. Swing it. Show me your technique.”
Her eyes were stinging. “Cruelty doesn’t become you.”
He slid the sword back into its scabbard. “Enough of this foolishness. You cannot ride into war. No matter how much you care about the throne, you—”
“You need me,” she insisted. “I have as much right to go as you.”
“And what will you do? Fight?”
“You’ll get no troops without me,” she said angrily. “You can’t raise an army on your own, and you know it. Besides, I don’t have to ride into battle. I can stay out of harm’s way.”
“You will be safer here with my sister and the Choven.”
“Will I?” she snapped. “What do you know about it? Has my future been revealed to you? Do you know what my destiny is? Do you?”
“I am supposed to break the world!” he shouted. “Is that an ordinary battle? Is that any place for you to be? I don’t expect to come back. At least give me the consolation of knowing you’re safe.”
“Safe?” she echoed. “This isn’t about staying safe. We weren’t intended to fold our hands and hide from events, neither of us. If you are to break the world, I am to reap its tears. What have you to say to that? Does that sound like I am to stay home and spin wool?”
They glared at each other, breathing hard, both furious, and then she realized how ridiculous it was to be standing in a snow-filled ditch, nose to nose and yelling about their destinies like two children trying to outdo each other with boasts.
She snorted, trembling, and pressed her hands to her lips.
A corner of his mouth twitched.
They stepped back from each other, breathing hard in the silence. Then their eyes met, and they smiled at the same time.
Elandra drew a swift breath that became laughter. “How silly we are. What are we arguing about?”
He beat on his chest and struck a foolish pose. “I shall conquer the world.”
She imitated him. “And I shall do it better!”
They laughed harder; then he reached out, and she ran to his arms. She wanted to go on laughing forever like this with him, yet she felt close to tears also, for how near they had come to ruining everything. Relief spread over her, and she clung more tightly to him.
“We are fools,” he said, kissing her hair. “We would fight about the air if it served our purpose.”
She felt suddenly as though she could not breathe. This was the moment. It felt as though time had stopped around them. “Caelan,” she said very softly, refusing to look up into his eyes in case he refused her. “It grows late, too late to travel. Traulanders are afraid of the dark—”
“We are not afraid of the dark,” he corrected her with mock sternness. “We are afraid of wind spirits. That is only sensible.”
“Then the wind is certainly brisk,” she said shyly. “It is cold and late. Soon it will be dark. Let us go to the cave together.”
He said nothing, and her heart fell to her slippers. She dared peek up at him and saw him frowning, saw the battle of hope, disbelief, and acute longing in his face. That gave her courage.
Reaching up, she caressed his cheek with her hand. “Let us go to the cave,” she said, her voice low and throaty. “Let us have tonight before we face our future.”