Exile (10 page)

Edan’s expression slipped, an instant of confusion flickering across his features, then he smiled, dismissing the moment with a casual shrug. “Of course. That is a fairly new development still.”

She continued walking, though she felt more ill at ease now. “You’re familiar with the emperor’s captains?”

“Not really, I’ve heard their names mostly. Working with Serivar and staying in his home, I hear a lot about politics.” Edan avoided her gaze now, looking as if her unease had infected him. “It seems that you’re the one who is actually familiar with the captain. As only one of fifty healers, I wouldn’t have expected so much camaraderie to develop with the Lyran soldiers, let alone their leaders.”

She stopped and stared after him. Edan continued a few more strides then also stopped and rotated around on the ball of one foot. Drawing on ascard in the air around them, she felt for anyone nearby and created a barrier to block sound. Edan’s eyes narrowed, then she felt him investigate her construct with his ability and his expression relaxed a fraction.

“As you already know from my argument with Serivar, I did more than heal in Lyra. I assisted the emperor directly and, as a result, was often in contact with his captains.” She stepped closer to him, biting her words off in partially feigned anger. It was cruel, perhaps, but the fastest way to get him to drop the subject would be to act as if he had insulted her. “Does it surprise you so much that they might have found my company pleasant?”

Edan looked alarmed and disconcerted for a moment, then a slow smile touched his lips and he lifted his hands in a quick gesture of surrender. “Your eyes are amazing when you’re angry.” He held up a hand again to stop her heated retort. “And you have a good point. I, for one, find your company immensely pleasing, so it shouldn’t surprise me to find that others feel the same.”

Her anger began to melt, though a vague unease remained, tugging at the back of her mind. She let the sound barrier dissolve. “Perhaps we should arrange supper for another night.”

Edan reached out to her side and took her hand.

She resisted the urge to pull away from him. It had been somewhat dishonest manipulating his interest in her. The least she could do was let him try to make amends.

“I hope I haven’t pushed you away.”

She forced herself to meet his eyes, struggling against the distance this new unease reestablished between them. “No. I’m sorry for losing my temper.” It was her turn to gesture him to silence when he started to speak. “I just have a feeling Serivar will be here late tonight and it wouldn’t seem proper to come to supper at his house without him there.”

Edan nodded, though he searched her face for several seconds, looking for additional explanation, before yielding. “You’re right. Perhaps tomorrow?”

“I’m busy tomorrow. I’m sorry. Can we talk about it next week?”

“Certainly.” There was disappointment in the aversion of his eyes and in his tone as he gave her hand a gentle squeeze then released it.

She managed to force a smile for him. “Good night, Lord Edan.” She offered a polite nod before continuing down the hallway.

Outside, the soft, pale gray of dusk was settling over the city, bringing a chill to the air. She drew her amber shawl tight around her shoulders and walked fast, both to keep herself warm and to try to outrun the discomfort that still clung to her. Why had it disturbed her so when Edan called Yiloch prince instead of emperor? It was an easy enough mistake to make, but there was something about it that nagged at her. It wasn’t the error in title that actually bothered her. It was the way he said it. Prince Yiloch had rolled off his tongue easily, as if he were used to saying it, and there had been an edge of resentment in his tone. It was subtle, but she was sure she had heard it.

She walked up to the fountain courtyard in the education district and sank into memories. It was he first place she had ever seen Yiloch. His beauty and mystery captivated her in that first moment and he had proceeded to steal her heart completely in the ensuing months. She held her hand under the water. It was icy cold in the chill evening and she sucked in a breath with the shock of it. That instant of shock also served to wake her to the fact that she risked encountering Jayce or Andrea if she lingered here.

She made herself go on. The unease faded by the time she entered her building and climbed the stairs to her door. Out of habit, she did an ascard sweep as she opened the door and discovered that she was no longer alone. She spun, stepping backward through the doorway while drawing on more ascard. A split second before she launched an attack, she recognized Ferin and released the gathered power.

“Lord Ferin.” She breathed, placing a hand to her chest, feeling the pounding of her heart as she staggered back a few more steps. How could she have let her guard down enough to allow someone to get that close unnoticed? The possible consequences of such carelessness left her trembling. “I could have killed you.”

Ferin gave her a shaky smile and she felt him releasing the defensive barriers he had thrown up in response to her near assault. They wouldn’t have been enough. His connection wasn’t that strong. “Believe me, my lady, I don’t doubt that.”

“How did you find me?” She gestured him in.

His gaze lingered on her trembling fingers as he shut the door behind him. Then he met her eyes, a pleased smile chasing the last vestiges of alarm from his features. “I have a gift for you,” he said, “from Emperor Yiloch.”

Her heart skipped a beat, but it wasn’t from fear this time. Her cheeks flushed with the bombardment of emotion that answered his words. The joy bursting through her must have been apparent in her face, because Ferin chuckled and drew an object from his pocket. He held his hand out to her, a small blue silk bag resting on his palm. She took it, hands trembling even more now than they had been a moment ago. She used ascard to force her hands steady so she wouldn’t drop the bag and opened the drawstring, shaking the contents into her hand.

A delicate gold ring landed in her palm, a perfect pearl set into it. The ring itself was beautiful and she immediately sensed ascard bound into it, some of it bearing her own signature. Tears stung her eyes.

“It’s created?”

“Partly,” Ferin replied. “The original foundation was his mother’s favorite ring. Ian and I worked with a team of creators to enhance it and tuned it to your signature using the links you placed upon him and Yiloch, which is also how I found you. Then we added masking so no one else will be able to sense the power bound in it. It has protections woven into it so that if someone using ascard attacks you, the ring will absorb some of the attack. It will amplify the links you’ve created to others. Not enough to bridge the Gilded Straight from here,” he added in response to her hopeful glance, “but enough to extend them considerably should you ever need to. It will also amplify all of the barriers and the masking you place upon yourself.”

She gazed at the ring in awe of the magnificent gift. It was so delicate, meant for a woman with fine slender hands. Were her hands slender enough? What if it didn’t fit?

“Don’t fret, it will size to fit whatever finger you choose to place it upon,” he said, guessing her concern.

Feeling as though she might burst with happiness, she slid the ring onto the ring finger of her right hand and the band adjusted down a small fraction to fit perfectly as he’d said it would. The power woven into it reinforced her already substantial ascard connection. The sensation was comforting. Stepping forward, she threw her arms around Ferin’s neck in an embrace full of gratitude. After a second’s hesitation, he tentatively returned it.

“Thank you, Lord Ferin.”

“I’m only the messenger.” He chuckled, apparently satisfied despite his words of protest. “Without Ian’s creation skill, I doubt we could have done more than offer a you pretty ring.”

“That would have been enough, but this is incredible.” She stepped back. “Can I offer you some wine? I do hope you can stay a bit. I would love to hear all the news from Lyra.”

“I will happily stay until your questions run dry, my lady, and I would love some wine.”

Gesturing for him to take a seat, she retrieved two goblets and selected a wine Caplin had given her, leftover from some gathering of the King’s High Council. A far more expensive selection than she could have afforded on her own.

Ferin looked around the room, a knowing smile turning his lips. “I detect a Lyran influence in your décor,” he remarked. He chose one of the plush ivory chairs to sink into, tracing a line of blue embroidery with one finger.

“Do you like it?”

“Very much so. I may have to visit you often while I’m here just to get a taste of home.”

A warm flush rose in her cheeks. “I would welcome the company,” she replied in earnest as she handed him his wine then sat across from him. “Tell me about Galyn.”

Ferin actually flushed and she sipped her wine to hide a smile. “I hope it isn’t that obvious to everyone. I didn’t intend it to be a distraction,” he said, a touch of sincere worry in his tone.

“I sensed jealousy from her when you greeted me. Not many here use ascard for more than healing though, so it isn’t too likely to come up,” she reassured. “Edan is skilled with sensing emotions, but I can’t imagine him taking exception to the two of you being intimate, especially given that you won’t be here the entire time.”

Ferin nodded. “To answer your inquiry, Galyn and I have been together a year and eight months. She is… quite remarkable.” His candid smile made her laugh, then his expression turned serious. “What about you? I thought you were engaged.”

Sorrow and frustration muted some of the happiness Ferin had brought to her lonely residence. She gazed into her wine. “Lord Caplin leveraged his status to help dissolve the engagement. So far, there haven’t been any repercussions, other than a few raised eyebrows, but I’ve managed to avoid Jayce with a little ascard assistance. Who knows what will happen when our paths finally cross.”

“Yiloch will be glad to hear that you’re free of that engagement.”

“Why do you follow him?”

Ferin rotated his wine glass in his hands. “I am truly powerful at no skill. I developed my ascard ability a little in as many different skills as I could so that I could put my efforts to guiding others in developing those skills. I sacrificed expertise for the ability to teach a broad range of skill sets. All of my students surpass me.”

It wasn’t an answer, but she went along with his train of thought, patient. “So you always wanted to teach?”

He nodded.

“But I didn’t think Lyra had any organized schools for using ascard.”

“They don’t, not yet, but Yiloch wants to establish schools. That isn’t the only reason I follow him, but it is the primary reason. We share the same dream in that respect.”

She sipped her wine then swirled the cup, staring into the red depths of the liquid. “How is he?”

“He’s…” Ferin paused until she met his eyes. After a few seconds, he nodded in response to whatever he saw there. “He is handsome as ever and, when he isn’t pining away over you, he makes a fine emperor.”

“I doubt he pines over me all that much.” She tried to sound flippant, but the flicker of sympathy in his eyes told her he wasn’t convinced.

“He does, but he doesn’t let it interfere with his goals and responsibilities any more than he has ever let anything stand in his way. Yiloch is nothing if not focused when it comes to his empire. He is a good leader. Cruel when it’s called for and benevolent when needed. Unfortunately, there is still much unrest after his takeover and Myac remains a threat.”

She nodded and sipped her wine again to settle the twisting of dread in her gut. She didn’t want to think about Myac. There was little she could do for Yiloch on that front. “He should marry. An heir would settle the people.”

Ferin’s brow rose a fraction. “You’re right, but I wouldn’t have expected you to say as much. You are an intelligent and powerful woman, Lady Indigo. It’s a shame you were born Caithin. You would have made a good empress.”

A bitter edge crept into her laugh then. “I don’t know that I’m all that, Lord Ferin, but I thank you for the compliments and I share your regret.”

His smile was rich with understanding when he leaned forward, raising his cup to her. “To love, ill-fated or otherwise.”

She lifted her cup, meeting his with a soft click, and they both downed what remained a touch too eagerly. Heartache and worry, it seemed, went well with wine.

“More?”

He nodded, holding out his cup. “If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” She rose to bring the decanter closer. “The night is young.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Embracing deepening shadows, Myac blended himself with the night and waited. Across the street, he could still sense Ferin’s presence within the building. Indigo was there as well, at least he suspected as much. If so, her presence remained thoroughly masked as always. The window of upper residence where he sensed Ferin was dark, but someone had modified the glass with illusions that, upon deeper investigation, confessed to the signature of her work. What he saw in that window couldn’t be relied upon as reality.

Whatever the Lyran adept was doing there, it became apparent after almost an hour of waiting that he was in no hurry to leave. Myac might have suspected some romantic intent, but the casual nature of what little emotion he could leach through the barriers around the place made it clear there were no such intentions. Perhaps they merely intended to chat away the evening, an evening she should have been spending with him.

Bitter self-disgust swelled in him.

How could he be so careless? Indigo was attentive and wary as a wildcat. Too much so for him to get away with careless slips in conversation. He ground his teeth and sent a cautious tendril to probe at her barriers again. What would he give to be able to listen in on their conversation? He could determine little from reading Ferin’s faint emotions. The only thing he was certain of was that the man felt comfortable in her presence. It might simply be because she had helped them win the campaign against Emperor Rylan, but Myac sensed there was more to it. What had she done to gain not only the trust, but also the camaraderie, of Yiloch’s inner circle?