The Destroyer Goddess (31 page)

Now Baran and Mirabar would be the parents of an immensely powerful child who would benefit from both their legacies. The child, like its parents, was expected to serve Tansen and the Firebringer's memory.

And no one, when making these plans, gave any thought to Cheylan and his place in Sileria's future.

On the day Mirabar told him why she married Baran, he knew that she would never be his, and that she would willfully pursue her own destiny without him, leaving him behind with scarcely a regret. Even what Searlon had revealed to him—the likelihood that Baran was dying—didn't change that. Cheylan could feel the truth just as plainly today as he had felt it upon his last meeting with Mirabar: He had lost her. She would not let him take Baran's place after her husband was dead. 

Cheylan also knew that without Mirabar at his side, he was ultimately in danger from Tansen. The Firebringer's brother wanted all the waterlords dead, and he was capable, if anyone in Sileria was, of achieving this goal.

So Cheylan had betrayed Tansen to Verlon, helping his grandfather plan an ambush against the
shatai
. Unfortunately, Tansen had survived; but there would be other opportunities, and Cheylan hadn't expected him to be easy to kill.

As for Kiloran... Yes, an alliance with Kiloran had been the obvious solution, for the time being, if Cheylan wanted to prosper. Kiloran was old and had no heir. If Cheylan outlived both him and Verlon, all their combined territory could be his, especially if this war ensured that most of the other waterlords were already dead.

Especially if Baran were already dead. Baran, whose illness was evidently so severe that he didn't even want to risk being seen by anyone outside of his family anymore.

Yes, Kiloran would find that very interesting.

Cheylan didn't plan to tell him about Mirabar's baby, though. At least, not yet. Not until he knew more. Cheylan had so far pretended complete ignorance of the reasons behind the marriage, apart from the obvious ones: Baran's obsessive hatred of Kiloran and Tansen's need for an ally among the waterlords. Cheylan didn't want Kiloran to know about Mirabar's baby until
he
knew for certain whether the child would be a threat or a boon to himself. 

In any event, Cheylan knew that handling Kiloran would be much more difficult than managing Verlon was. Verlon's volatile temper could make him unpredictable, but Kiloran's cold, shrewd intelligence was much more dangerous.

So the best thing, of course, would be if this alliance with Kiloran revealed the old man's weaknesses to Cheylan, so that he could eventually kill the waterlord if need be. It would take patience, though. Kiloran didn't have many weaknesses, and he certainly concealed them well.

In the meantime, it was essential to be useful to Kiloran, so the old man would find him too valuable to kill, betray, or neglect. Hence, his intention of getting whatever information he could out of Mirabar today. Including the very interesting news she imparted to him now, as they walked through the damp forest, about the Firebringer's sister bearing the child of
Torena
Elelar's half-Valdani husband.

"So if the child you bear is meant to..." He shrugged. "Shield the child you're looking for, and it wasn't Semeon—"

"It wasn't," she assured him, having no idea how disappointing he now found the wasted effort involved in plotting the boy's murder.

"Then is it Jalilar's baby?" he asked.

"I don't know." 

"But she's the Firebringer's sister, so..."

"I just don't know yet."

"Where is she hiding?"

She told him the location of the Sanctuary, as relayed to her by Tansen's messenger. "No one knows but us," she added. "For her own safety."

"Of course," he agreed. "Does Tansen intend to move her?"

"No. It's remote and quiet there. He's sending for Sister Basimar to take care of her, and he's posting sentries all around the place."

"As long as Jalilar knows never to set foot off Sanctuary grounds."

"She knows," Mirabar assured him. "Of course she knows. She's Josarian's sister."

"How can you determine if her unborn child is indeed the one you've foreseen?"

Mirabar nodded to the bundle he carried for her. "Maybe this will tell me."

"
Baran's
gift?" he asked in surprise.

"Yes." She made no attempt to explain. Instead she walked ahead of him, led the way into a small clearing, and told him, "I think this will be a good place."

He nodded and gave Mirabar the bundle when she reached for it. Moving with easy grace, she knelt upon the wet ground with it, careless of the fine garments her husband's blood-stained fortune had paid for, and began unwrapping the thing.

When she was done, Cheylan frowned at the long, rusty, ancient object before finally recognizing it as... "A sword?"

He heard Mirabar draw in a swift breath. "I know this sword," she said. "I've seen it before."

"Where?"

"In my visions," she answered breathlessly, her whole body stiff with tension as she stared at the pitiful weapon.

"What does it—"

"Make a fire," she said. "I'm going to Call him."

Cheylan ignored the seductive beckoning of the water magic emanating from Baran's eerie lake and focused on the gift of fire so improbably born in his chilly veins. Drawing heat from the Dar-blessed core of his gift, he blew an enchanted blaze into life before Mirabar.

She didn't acknowledge him, didn't even look at him. Her glowing gaze remained fixed on the sword, which seemed too frail even for her gentle touch as she picked it up. Parts of it crumbled and flaked off. As she dropped it into the fire, Cheylan saw that her scarred palms were now smeared with its rust.

"He is coming," she said, her voice filled with exultation.

Cheylan mentally reached into the fire and also felt the shade there, awaiting him, awaiting them both. Reaching out to them both. Opening the void between this world and the Other one.

A wave of heat assaulted him, washing through him with such power that he knew instantly they were Calling a Guardian. A very formidable one. 

"And his name," Mirabar said, "is Daurion."

Mirabar watched as he formed himself from the enchanted flames, reaching across the centuries to communicate with her.

She had seen his face before. In the night sky over Dalishar. In the chaos of her visions. In the heavy promise of her dreams.

Yes, she had seen this face, just as she had seen the sword that now danced in the fire with him. This was the sword which, in her visions, had once swept across the sky to smash the Sign of Three, the symbol of Valdani supremacy in Sileria for more than two hundred years.

"Daurion," she murmured. The last Yahrdan of a free and prosperous Sileria, dead for a thousand years. Daurion, the Guardian who had held this island with a fist of iron in a velvet glove, driving back wave after wave of Moorlander invasions... Until Marjan, whom he trusted like a brother, betrayed and murdered him. 

"Marjan brought your sword here after he killed you," she realized. 

Where it has remained
, Daurion said, his voice shuddering through her—and through Cheylan, whom she saw react on the other side of the fire.
Where it has awaited you
.

"Why me?" she asked, staring into the glowing eyes of the dead ruler.

Only you can protect her.

She knew whom he meant. "But why must I?"

She will bear my heir.

"She's
the mother of the child I'm meant to shield?" Tears filled her eyes and a terrible weight settled into her chest. "Is she... descended from you?"

No, but her child will be
.

"Then his father..."

Has my blood. Mine and Marjan's.

"Marjan's?" she repeated, shocked. Through the flames, she saw Cheylan make a reflexive, jerky movement, evincing equal surprise. "Both of you?"

His power and strength are unique.

And he would pass on that power and strength to Sileria's new ruler. "Who is he?"

A man who has murdered the innocent, lied to his allies, and betrayed everyone in his quest for influence...

"As did Marjan." Fear flooded her as she realized Daurion was, in fact, describing a waterlord. "We can't let such a man have influence over the child!" Mirabar said with certainty. "Over Sileria." 

Then you will have to be stronger than he
.

"Is it... Kiloran?" Indeed, whose power and strength could better be described as unique? Who was truly Marjan's most likely heir? "Is this why I was chosen? To face him?
Can
I defeat him?" Could she even survive the attempt?

Past and present, present and future, all united...

"By a child of fire," Mirabar said slowly, "a child of water..." And a child of sorrow? Born of Elelar and Kiloran? 

The next ruler was meant to carry on the bloodline of the last one, dead for a thousand years, as well as the bloodline of the
sriliah
who'd been strong enough to destroy him. "To end the enmity," Mirabar murmured. "At last." 

Fire and water, water and fire...

Could the elements which ruled Sileria could finally make peace?

Unite them
, Daurion exhorted.

"So Sileria can survive," she murmured.

Baran was right. There would always be water magic in Sileria. No one could change that. No one was
meant
to change that.

Help her unite them
.

Confusion, fear, and loathing clouded her thoughts. "Why
her?
" Kiloran was bad enough, but of all the women in Sileria...

Dar has chosen her
.

"She betrayed the Firebringer!"

Dar's will be done
.

"Why did Dar let him die?" she cried.

To fulfill his destiny.

Yes, the Valdani had surrendered Sileria.

"Did he really need to die?" she asked despairingly. 

But Daurion knew her real question:
You didn't fail him
.

"I did," she insisted.

Dar chose him. Dar knows what he can bear
.

"Why must he bear such a death? Why?"

Because Dar is the destroyer goddess, and She will not be forsaken in Her own land
.

"He didn't forsake her! He gave everything—"

And he will give more, because Dar demands it
.

"What more can he give now?" she asked, bewildered.

You must give more, too
.

She thought of Kiloran. "I am ready," she vowed, fighting her dread.

Not yet, you aren't
, Daurion said chillingly.

"What must I do to be ready?"

You must
, he told her,
accept the unbelievable and do the unthinkable
.

"I'm ready!" she insisted.

Not yet
, he assured her.
Not yet
.

"You look even more bad-tempered than usual," Baran remarked when Mirabar entered his study.

"It burned up. Crumpled. Melted. I don't know." She flung herself into a chair, looking positively haggard.

"Dare I hope you're going to explain that statement?" His head felt pleasantly light as his dying body absorbed the effects of a rather remarkable brew which Velikar had just prepared for him.

Mirabar gazed up at the cracked ceiling. "I was ready. I opened the gift from the Olvara. I did a Calling."

"With Cheylan, I gather?" Fortunately, she had known better than to invite the Guardian into Belitar. 

She nodded. "Yes, with Cheylan."

"And, if I understand your rambling despair correctly, whatever the Olvara gave you burned up in your holy fire?"

Mirabar gave him a look of sheer loathing. "Yes."

He frowned. "So you don't even know why the Beyah-Olvari guarded that moldy thing for centuries?"

She sighed. "Actually, I do. It was... a very successful Calling. Bewildering. Baffling. Disturbing."

"Guardians," he muttered. Always so serious and so vague. Baran found it very tedious of them.