Asunder Read online

  Jayden regarded his wife, watching understanding overtake the anger in her wide, tearless eyes. “My precious dove,” he began, not unkindly. “I can say none of those things. Whatever you believe of me, however deeply you hate me, I do love you.”

  She didn’t bother to look at him. “No,” she said. “You love what I represent. You love anything that brings you closer to power, just as you hate and fear anything with more power than you.” She took a slow breath. “No matter. My child is beyond your reach. I will take comfort in that.”

  “It is not a threat to my power I fear, Beth, but to all of us. The girl who reduced an entire city to rubble and ash is the greatest danger this land may ever know! Can you imagine, the kind of power it must have taken to destroy Foley? That kind of power hasn’t existed in this world since the Lich King ruled. Magical power corrupts, Beth, it always has - this is exactly the kind of thing I’ve been working to prevent!”

  “The girl in your story destroyed herself along with the city,” Bethcelamin said, her fingers twirling restlessly in the fabric of her blood splattered dress. “You said it yourself."

  “Think about it,” he said, speaking to Bethcelamin as if she were a child incapable of understanding him. “Anyone who can cause that kind of magical destruction may also be capable of defying death, just like Semaj. And if death cannot hold her, who is to say she cannot control the dead as well as he did?”

  Bethcelamin offered no further argument, and Korith nodded, satisfied.

  “Know this, wife. That girl, the girl who may well be the worst threat to face this land since the Lich King himself, is not your daughter. Whatever fantasy you cling to, you have borne no child other than my son.”

  “You’re wrong.” Her voice was cold.

  He did not answer her.

  “This girl you hunt is my daughter, Jayden, whatever you wish I would believe. She is neither dead nor undead, and I hope she is as powerful as you say - because then it won’t be long before she is the one hunting you.”

  Korith was silent, staring at his quietly certain - and uncharacteristically determined - wife. Whatever unnatural magic ran through his wife’s blood might give her some knowledge of the witch-child, some other truth. He would have to consider that more carefully. Later.

  There was a small knock at the door. Jayden opened it without taking his eyes from his wife.

  “Put the tea on the table and leave, Bashara. Lady Korith will not need your services again until morning.”

  Bashara nodded and moved as quickly as she could while balancing the tray, setting it on the table by Bethcelamin. She stole a quick glance at her transformed Lady from beneath politely lowered lashes.

  Beth was unreadable, she did not so much as flicker her gaze away from her husband to acknowledge the maid’s presence.

  Jayden saw it all. “It is clear, however, that her manners need improvement.” The slight flicker of guilt on Bethcelamin’s face confirmed that his control had been regained, that he once again held the conversation’s reins. She might not want to admit it, but he had won.

  “Thank you, Bashara,” Bethcelamin said automatically, not once looking towards her maid. “I apologize for my behavior.” Lady Korith still did not shift her gaze away from her stone-faced husband, but Bashara curtsied anyway.

  “No need, my Lady,” she managed to croak out of her dry, anxious throat. “I hope you feel better soon.” She hovered for the tiniest moment, hoping that Duke Korith would relent and let her stay, let her comfort the Lady – but from the chilled look he flashed her as he held open the door, that was not likely. Bashara fled.

  “Help yourself to the tea, dove.” Duke Korith closed the door and stepped closer to his wife. “If the attack has affected your nerves too terribly, I would be happy to serve it for you.”

  Bethcelamin held his gaze for perhaps a minute longer before surrendering. Her stiffened back curved under the weight of her own weakness, and she released her anger with a deep exhale. She would drink the tea. She would sleep. She would pretend that it was the attack that had rattled her.

  But she would not be idle in her silence, Bethcelamin vowed. She would find a way, some way to protect her daughter, stop her husband … some way to make a difference. She took small comfort in knowing that Calder was out there, seeking.

  “That will not be necessary, husband, I believe I can manage.” She reached for the pot, willing her hand not to tremble. Her hand did not obey.

  “So your outburst is finished, then?” Having regained control, Korith bent to retrieve her bracelets and toss the pillow onto the bed. He wanted nothing more than to retire to the adjoining sitting room and drown this damnable headache with a goblet of whiskey, but there was still more to do downstairs— like finding out how undead had entered a city as well guarded as Porthold.

  “Yes, my husband. I am sorry. It will not happen again.” The tea had only spilled twice in the pouring, and though she used both hands to raise the cup to her lips, it still wobbled unsteadily.

  Watching her, Korith smiled gently. It almost reached his eyes. “My dove, you’re trembling. You never should have had to witness such an atrocity.” As he usually did after her outbursts, which were admittedly rare, he behaved as though nothing unusual had happened between them. It helped her return to normal more quickly. Korith retrieved her sleeping gown from his wife’s open travel trunk, laid it across the bed, and turned down the blankets while she drank.

  The tea was quite strong this time, Bethcelamin noticed as warmth spread outward from her belly. Bashara had done as the Duke commanded, but perhaps too well? The room took on a blurry tone in mere minutes, and she had to fight to suppress a wide yawn.

  He crossed the room and took the cup from her hands. It wasn’t empty, so he held it to her lips. “Last sip,” he said.

  “Jayden …” She wanted to tell him the tea was too strong, but Korith shook his head at her.

  “Drink, my dove,” he said. “Finish it.”

  She obeyed, and he set the cup down beside the teapot.

  “Good girl,” he said, helping her to her feet. “Let’s get you ready for bed, shall we?”

  He turned her and she had to brace both hands on the edge of the bed as he undid the lacings on her dress. Sleep was coming so much faster than it usually did. She was pliant and barely awake as he sat her on the bed and lifted her feet up for her, tucking them under the blankets.

  “There we go. Yes, it’s time to rest … answer me this, though, before you sleep?”

  “Hmmm?” Beth fought to keep her eyes open but the pillows and mattress were irresistibly soft, beckoning her to that sweet dark place where nothing mattered.

  “Who was it that told you I was hunting your daughter, love?” His voice never lost the easy, low, gentle tone. She did not disappoint him.

  “Calder,” she murmured softly, not seeing the anger surge into his eyes at her answer. She sighed, pressing her cheek into the whisper-soft pillow. “We had such lovely talks. He’ll find her for me,” she whispered with a little smile, sinking deeper into sleep. “He promised me. He’s going to keep her safe.”

  Calder. The forest walker. The man who had disappeared from under his very nose had been freed by his own wife? She claimed ignorance of it, lied straight to his face about the soldier she had sent away … Korith clenched his fists until his palms screamed with the pain of his fingernails digging into the flesh. His vision was pulsing red with the pounding behind his eyes, but his voice and manner never changed.

  “When did he tell you this, my sweet dove?”

  Bethcelamin was nearly gone, she had to rouse herself to answer his question and it took several minutes for her to form the words. Korith was patient.

  “The day you returned … the day we sent him away.”

  Jayden watched his wife succumb to the sedating effects of the tea Garen had so wisely advised him about, and resisted the urge to press the pillow over her face. The forest walker had been right under his nose when h
e returned, not a full week’s journey ahead, as they had assumed.

  Killing Bethcelamin would be easy, he knew. He could smother her, steal her breath, and the maid would be blamed for making the tea too strong. He would have the sympathy of the entire land for having lost his son and then his wife so tragically …

  Korith shook his head clear of the fantasy. Bethcelamin was useful, and a lovely woman on the arm of a powerful man had swayed more than a few undecided minds in the past. Especially a woman from a powerful family. No, he would not kill her.

  Bethcelamin would be watched, of course. It wouldn’t take much to encourage the maid’s cooperation in that, Korith thought. Her parents were still alive, as he recalled, though her father was blind. One reminder of how much her family relied on her should keep the maid focused on her task.

  As for his wife … Korith vowed to take however firm a hand with her as required to ensure that she remembered her place. He had tried to be lenient with her in the wake of Lucian’s death, but he would not tolerate another outburst, here, amongst people whose support he needed.

  Perhaps his wife and the ranger would even do his work for him - if his Chancellor had been mistaken, if the witch-child was indeed alive, then perhaps Bethcelamin’s instinct could be the key to his finally finding - and ending - her.

  There was something in every situation to be turned to one’s own advantage, he told himself as he stood and stalked out of the room, leaving her to sleep. The trick was in finding it.

  14

  The twins slept in a tangle of arms and legs beside Melody, exhausted but safe. Although she still walked a protective circle into being every night before they rested, Melody knew it was not her magic that kept them from harm. In these woods, sheltered on two sides by towering mountains, there was nothing to keep out.

  She had killed the thing that followed her out of Foley, but something else had picked up her trail not long after. She still refused to use her power, but it seemed to sense her nonetheless. For weeks they’d only just managed to stay ahead of it - the thing wouldn’t walk in the daylight, and her desperate, heartfelt prayers as she paced a circuit around their camp protected them at night.

  They followed the path of Aellielle’s magic, all the while staying in the forest where Melody was most comfortable. The last thing she wanted was to bring whatever was following them to a town, or city, or anywhere with people. When Melody had brought them up the pass into the Deep Woods about a week ago, it was like surfacing into daylight after a midnight swim. Here, where the untouched land sang the low rhythm of the cycle of life, the unnatural creature could find no welcome. This land reminded her of home.

  They were almost done with the journey, Melody knew. The blue light that guided her was vibrant here, Lianodel must be close. The next day would bring them to the Elves she had come so far and through so much to find. The twins could feel it, too. Even after hours of walking, they had squirmed and babbled with excitement, unable to sleep until Melody sang to them.

  Her own insides shivered and twisted; sleep was little more than a distant hope for her. It was for the best. Closing her eyes led only to dreams and visions of pain and blood and death, tragic ruin that lay at her feet, on her shoulders. She had killed. She, raised without violence or fear, had brought unthinkable destruction. Countless people had fallen before her, and she had wanted it, commanded it.

  Melody swallowed, hard. She looked at the sleeping twins until tears blurred her vision, and she put her head in her hands. She should have died, she thought, she should have destroyed herself along with everything else. If it weren’t for these children…

  That they had even survived was a miracle, both for them and Melody. Without Kedra and Kendon to look after, without Aellielle’s heartfelt plea for her to bring the children safely to their ancestor, Melody might have taken one look at the horror she had caused and called the lightning down on herself, or surrendered to the stinking undead things that hounded her steps.

  She was a monster, no different than the men who killed Gorlois and the rest of her family. The thought turned Melody’s stomach, as it did whenever she let herself think too long about it, and she had to scramble a short distance away and be sick.

  Finally, by the light of the tiny fire, she opened her father’s journal. She had enjoyed the glimpse into his thoughts each night - sometimes there were long passages about magical bloodlines and hereditary power, or how Phelwen Semaj became the Lich King. Other times the pages contained little more than sketches of sigils and illustrations of effects— fire, wind, rain, light.

  There were other notes to her as well, some brief, some rambling. There was encouragement, and love, and worry, and warning… In one section he had begged her not to seek out her mother, for fear that her husband, the future Duke, would retaliate against one or both of them. The safest life for her is one without you, he had written.

  Melody wiped her eyes, and turned to the final entry.

  This is the end, my precious girl.

  Tomorrow we must surrender you to the people you will call your family, who will raise you in silent safety far from the man who has hunted your mother and I since we left so many moons ago. The Dwellers are unknown to most of the world, and so they are the perfect place for you.

  Bethcelamin now believes that you need such protection. Up until recently she insisted that her future husband loved her enough to let her bring her baby away, far from his reputation and his politics. Now, however, she has seen what he is willing to do to the woman he ‘loves’ … and her daughter. I can see her heart breaking as she holds you across the fire from me now. She must feel as though she is losing her whole world. I know I do.

  Korith sent Hunters, his personal soldiers. There are always ten of them, more skilled and driven than any warrior I have seen. I pray to She that shelters us that you never encounter them. They tracked us nearly to the hidden glade in the woods where Calder tells me the Dwellers live. They were skilled enough to make it that far before Calder detected their presence, and let that be a warning to you. Their abilities are not to be underestimated.

  I do not know whether the Hunters were sent to kill us all, or simply retrieve Beth and leave you and I dead. There was no time to ask.

  I must tell you … What happened last night was terrible, but unavoidable. Could things have transpired differently I would have willed them to, I swear it. I never wished to harm anyone, but … I will do anything to protect you, my darling girl. Anything. I must, my dreams of late have shown me what you will be capable of, what you will be called upon to do. I know only that you must survive at any cost.

  Calder bears the marks of our final battle with the Hunters. He shed his blood for your safety just as I did. But you … my tiny girl, barely born, you touched the hole in my shoulder where the arrow had pierced and you cooed … the magic in you is stronger than even I had thought.

  Beth slept through it all. That was my doing, I admit. It was for her own safety while Calder and I dispatched the Hunters that her future husband had sent. She did not see you heal me, and I have not told her about it. I think perhaps it is for the best that she not know what you are becoming capable of, and how soon. But Calder saw. He felt your power as well, for as soon as you had eased my pain you reached out for him.

  I must speak plainly to you. I must put this in writing so there can be no doubt in your mind what price was paid for your safety. Calder and I killed them all, all ten of them. Not one Hunter survived to return with the story of where we brought you, and that is what matters most.

  I am not proud of the killing, especially now that Beth knows what destructive potential lies within me. I had never shown her, I never wanted her to fear me.

  She does fear me, now. I can feel it. I can feel her slipping away from me, and perhaps that is for the best – it may ensure her survival when she returns to Korith. Beth will never remember this place, or the path we took on the journey – her focus has been solely on you, which is as it should b
e. Most importantly, what she does not remember cannot be revealed to those who might wish you harm.

  She has refused to name you, and I understand her reluctance – but it will not be any easier to let you go without a name than with one. Calder calls you Melody out of her earshot, since you seem to sing every moment you are awake. Your voice must reach straight to the ears of She who created you, I have never heard such sweetness. Yes, Calder’s name suits you.

  I wish I could say I have no regrets.

  I wish I could say that I have seen the future and I know you will be safe and grow strong. These are things I cannot say. All I have seen is what you chose to show me the night you came to me and asked for my knowledge, and what my dreams show me of what you may become.

  I hate this, precious girl. My whole being resists it – I want to grab you and take you and disappear into the woods with you myself. I want to raise you and teach you and learn from you— but that is not my path. It is not your path. I know this is the way it must be. I know that when I return with Beth after we surrender you to the Dwellers that I will not live to check on you as I have promised her.

  Your mother… Bethcelamin has changed over this journey, and I know it’s for the best. Her detachment will keep her safe. Still, it pains me to see her so distant. Again I ask, please, build your idea of her from my words, and leave her to the life she has chosen.

  She leaves this place intending to marry the man who wishes you dead. She leaves this place with a heart so fiercely protected that not even I who love her brighter than the sun can warm her. I cannot see where she will be in the time when you read this, or how she will feel, or if she will even remember— But I can tell you that she loves you, down to the very core of herself. Oh, for things to be different, for she and I to be able to stay together, to raise you …

  Please, do not be sad, precious girl. I have known since the night you came to my dream that I would die. I have no fear for myself. As any father would, I fear for you— I know who hunts you, and why. I have done all I can to protect you, and now the time has come when I must trust in the measures I have taken. It is time that I give you over to She who protects us all. With my knowledge and Her strength, you cannot help but become what I have dreamed of you.