Blackveil (48 page)

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Authors: Kristen Britain

Tags: #General, #Fiction, #fantasy, #Epic

BOOK: Blackveil
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“What’s wrong?” Estral asked.
“Nothing. We’ve—I’ve just been going on and on.”
“It fills many gaps,” Estral replied. “Karigan naturally did not tell me everything about you.”
“You never did say,” he began quietly, staring into the flame of the lamp, “how Karigan regards me. I’d ... I’d like to know.” He
needed
to know, but now as his words hung in the air between them, a sense of mortification crept over him that he had even asked. That he’d asked
Estral
of all people. But who else was there that knew Karigan as well as she?
“I did tell you,” Estral replied. “She cares very much for you.”
“I was hoping. I mean . . .” Now Alton was boiling in his own skin. He looked down at his hands, unable to meet Estral’s gaze. “I thought maybe there was more.”
“When I last saw Karigan, we talked about several things going on her life. Her father, the young Rider she was training, and other matters she told me in confidence and which, as her friend, I won’t betray. In regard to you, she was confused and hurt, but it seemed to me she cared strongly about retaining your friendship.”
Friendship.
The word left a sour tang in his gut, but he had to remember Estral had last seen Karigan before he’d apologized. Before his letters.
An awkward silence hung between the two of them. The tent walls rustled, sending misshapen shadows rippling across the canvas. Somewhere in the distance a soldier called out the hour of the watch.
“It’s late,” Estral murmured. “I think I’d better leave.”
“What?”
“It’s getting late. I’d best find someplace to stay for the night.”
“No,” Alton said too sharply. “I mean, please don’t leave. Where would you go?”
“I don’t know. Leese’s maybe.”
“That’s all the way to the main encampment and it’s very dark out.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“You stay here tonight,” he said. “I’ve got someplace else I can go.” He stood and without another word, so she could not argue, he left his tent, grateful for the cold of night bleeding away the heat burning inside him. He inhaled deeply, surprised by the tautness of his body. He scrubbed his face and strode rapidly for the tower.
Once he was inside, he found the tower chamber empty but illuminated by a soft glow. Merdigen had already left to confer with the other mages. He could be gone for days. Alton was relieved to be alone.
He busied himself by preparing a fire in the big hearth, first laying down kindling, then using flint and steel to ignite it. When a small flame crackled to life, he blew on it to enlarge it, then threw in larger sticks to build the blaze.
As he worked, he thought about Estral Andovian sitting alone in his tent. She awakened something in him that had been absent for a long while, aroused a craving for her company, her attention, her touch, and it was only growing. He hadn’t wanted to leave her, but it had been too dangerous to stay. He could not trust himself. Could not trust himself now not to flee the tower, run back to his tent, and immerse himself in her presence, to quell the loneliness within that he hadn’t recognized before.
Those letters he wrote to Karigan must have been in reaction to this loneliness, but her few replies had been circumspect, almost cool, which he’d found frustrating, hurtful. If she wanted to be friends and nothing more, why hadn’t she been plain and just said so?
He paused, leaning against the mantel, considering, trying to imagine how he might feel in her place. He’d been volatile. Would
he
have wanted to further incense someone already burning with so much anger by telling him something he didn’t want to hear? He’d put her in an impossible position. And truly, as caught up in his own fantasy as he was, he’d found it inconceivable she’d want anything less than a much deeper relationship with him.
He shook his head like a horse with a fly in its ear. Deluded by his own desires he’d built castles of moonbeams. He’d mistaken her concern for their friendship and readiness to forgive him as something more. He laughed harshly and threw another stick onto the fire. Here he was once more caught up in his own little world around which everyone else revolved. How self-centered could he be? For all he knew, there was someone else in her life now, someone he had not heard about.
As he thought about it, another man in Karigan’s life made perfect sense. He’d been stupid not to see it, not to even think of it. She wanted to stay friends with him, but feared telling him the full truth would anger him. Especially because it involved another man. Who was she in love with? One of their fellow Riders? A merchant?
Who?
He stood there stock still waiting for the eruption of his own fury, but to his surprise, it did not come as it would have in the past. It just wasn’t in him now. Maybe after all this time he was finally healing from the venomous influence of Blackveil.
A tinge of jealousy did burn inside, but it was subdued. He was more saddened by the loss of what could have been between him and Karigan for he had envisioned it well and in detail. Above all else, however, he was amazed to discover he was ... relieved? Yes, relieved and free. Karigan did not want him the way he had wanted her to want him, and maybe he no longer wanted her that way either.
The revelation set him free. And he liked it.
He had a good notion of how he would use that freedom. The sizzle and pop of the hearthfire became music, the strumming of a lute, perhaps, and in the blaze he saw her face. Not Karigan’s, but Estral Andovian’s. She stirred something deeper in him than Karigan ever had.
But how free was he to pursue Karigan’s friend—her
best
friend?—a most sacred bond. He groaned thinking that his interference could be like opening a picnic basket of vipers.
He didn’t want to turn Estral against him by seeming to wrong Karigan, yet Karigan had made her decision, unvoiced as it might be. Somehow he’d have to work around her. Karigan, after all, was not here. She was not here to be hurt, nor had she made any effort to lay claim to him. He was free to do as he wished and so was she. There should be no reason for him to feel guilty about moving on, and one couldn’t help to whom one was attracted. Still, he’d have to go carefully. He’d—
“Hello.”
Alton jumped, heart pounding. Standing there in the chamber with him just a few paces away was not Merdigen or any of the other tower mages, not even Dale. No, it was Estral Andovian clutching a blanket.
ESTRAL’S HARMONY
“W
hat?”
Alton rubbed his eyes as if confronted with a specter.
“Hello,” Estral repeated. “And I thought I was the one hard of hearing.” She gave him that wry smile of hers, but it was not as confident as usual. It was questioning, as if she was uncertain of her reception.
“How?” he demanded. “How did you get in here?”
“I sang to the guardians. They liked it and let me through.”
She’d said it like it was the simplest thing in the world. Alton felt off-kilter and grabbed the mantel to steady himself. “You . . . you sang to the guardians? And they let you through?”
Her smile faded. “I’ll leave if you want me to.”
“No! No . . .” He laughed. “You were right yesterday.”
“I was? About what?” Now she gazed at him with a suspicious glint in her eye.
“About music being magical. But I expect not everyone can make it magical. Not the way you can.”
The smile returned to Estral’s lips.
Alton smiled back. “What made you try?”
“My music helped you and Dale enter Tower of the Earth, so I thought I’d try it here on Tower of the Heavens for myself.” She gazed about the tower chamber. “I must admit, I was curious.”
Alton was vaguely disappointed by the answer. “You brought a blanket.”
“I thought you might need it, but I see you have a fire going.”
“Yes, but a blanket is most welcome. Thank you.”
She passed it to him and backed away. “I guess I should go now.”
“No, wait! I mean, you said you were curious. Wouldn’t you at least like a tour of the tower? What’s left of it anyway.” He glanced upward where he could see the stars through the hole in the roof.
“Yes, I’d like that.”
He led her around the circumference of the tower, showing her the sink that magically flowed with water when you waved your hand under a bronze fish’s mouth. He took her beneath the east archway that ended a short distance away at a solid rock wall.
The
wall. Around they went, stepping over rubble, he explaining how the wall almost went mad and collapsed, taking the tower and Dale and himself with it.
“They lost harmony, the guardians,” he said. “They are strong when they sing as one, but when they lost harmony and rhythm everything almost came to ruin.”
“Further evidence,” Estral said, “of the magic of music.” They exchanged smiles.
“I’ve saved the best for last,” Alton said, taking her hand. He found it strong and limber. His own hands were bulky with muscles from stonework, huge and powerful, like a draft horse. Estral’s were more like a champion racehorse or a hunter in top condition, all lean, smooth, muscle. He realized it must be from lute playing, all those hours and hours of practice and performance. He thought of those hands on him, “playing” him, and he trembled.
He tugged on her hand to cover it up. “C’mon. See what you think.”
He led her to the circle of columns in the center of the chamber. There was the one that lay broken in sections across the floor and he was reminded of Tower of the Earth, the skeleton on the floor reaching.
“What’s that?” Estral asked, pointing at the pedestal in the middle of the circle. On top of it the lump of tourmaline gave off a faint green glow.
Alton pushed the image of the skeleton from his mind. “It’s called the tempes stone. First time I touched it, it awoke Merdigen. I think it somehow aids his ability to exist.”
“I’d love to meet him,” Estral said.
“You will, but he’s away at the moment.”
“Away? How can he ... ?”
Alton shrugged. “He’s off meeting with the other tower mages. The ones east of the breach, anyway.”
“Right,” Estral said.
“Now let’s take a step through the columns, shall we? Be warned you may find it disconcerting.”
She raised that skeptical eyebrow at him, but when they stepped through and the tower disappeared and they stood upon an impossible expanse of grasslands illuminated only by stars and moon, she loosed a squeal of surprise.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “If you step back through the columns you’ll be back in the tower.”
The tower may have vanished, but the columns, tempes stone and pedestal, and east and west arches remained visible, like the ruins of some ancient civilization. Reluctantly he released Estral’s hand so she could investigate. She stepped back and forth between the columns testing the effect, then walked the circle weaving between the columns. Eventually she came to stand beside him again.
“Incredible,” she said.
He could hear the awe in her voice and was pleased.
“Where is this?” she asked. “Is it real?”
“Hard to say exactly,” Alton said. He’d asked Merdigen once about the reality of it, and Merdigen had shot back with his usual, “Are
you
real, boy?”
“This landscape seems to be aligned with our season and time of day, for what it’s worth. I’ve been in Itharos’ tower, and his landscape is arctic, like the great ice fields to the north. Its time of day is opposite ours, from what I can tell.”
Estral shivered beside him. “It’s cold enough here. The air is crisp, and though the breeze is out of the northwest, I can smell the ground thawing like spring is not far off. It’s so very real.” As if to augment her words, coyotes bayed in the distance.
Alton had held onto the blanket and now he placed it over both their shoulders and boldly wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. It was very warming. She did not object and when she gazed at him, it was not with trepidation, but more assessing. She did not protest on Karigan’s behalf, did not mention Karigan at all. Interesting. He was pleased.

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