Chapter 20

She mourned Damias as best she could after filling out report after report on the tower incident for both the Companions’ Guild and the Imperial Court. Days later she had a very unsettling conversation with the general. It started with the general asking how many children she was planning to bear, and had abruptly ended with him asking her how soon she planned to start. Speechless, Ciardis excused herself and raced to her room, suddenly anxious to find Sebastian. She donned the red dress she had planned to wear to that afternoon’s dance and a black cloak to conceal the gown. She couldn't care less what Serena thought at the moment.

Racing uphill to the carriage, she almost asked the driver to take her to the Imperial Palace, but she knew there was no way she'd get through the gates—not by herself and not without an invitation, so she swallowed the request and turned back. Cursing under her breath, she raced back down the slope to the gardens of the Companions’ Guild through the main hall and down the slope. Soon she reached down and activated the Aether anklet with a touch of her fingertips. For a minute, all was blurry, and then she was in the other Aether realm.

She'd been picturing the city of Sandrin, and so the bracelet had taken her there—or, at least, it had taken her to the surrounding area. The city cliffs rose high above her and the water lapped gently while she strode on the beach. Great. Now what?

Deciding that she should at least try to contact Sebastian mind-to-mind, she tapped into her mage core to search for any sign of another mage nearby. There was no one, but out of the corner of her eye she suddenly saw several brilliant flashes of gold.

The gold glowed on the edges of her vision. It was in the soft lap of the waves, shimmering in the tiny grains of sand, and it was etched like an elegant filigree along the cliffs. Hesitantly, she reached out to touch the gold in the cliffs, thrumming the magic, calling its name.

Protect, guard, save, was the feeling the gold magic sent to her. Save what, though?

She reached out again with her gift, this time giving it her power. It was instinctual to her, this desire to enhance the magical protections that lay before her. The filigree, the grains of sand, the gold-laced waves—all were a part of the protection spells laid across the land of Algardis.

She thrummed some more.

"What are you doing?" demanded an exasperated voice from behind her.

Smiling, she turned around. "So it was you. I recognized the feel of your magic and the power of the Land Wight. I knew the spells could have only been done by you. You laid all these protections."

Sebastian frowned at her before answering uncomfortably, "No, I inherited these protection spells, and then I strengthened them." He shrugged as he looked up at the cliffs. "How'd you know it was me?"

This time, she shrugged. "It felt like you."

"Great. Well then, if you're done, I'll be leaving."

"Wait! Wait! I'm sorry! I never meant to insult you. What do I have to do to make this right?"

"You got what you wanted. Isn't that enough?" he said coldly.

"I have patrons and power and pretty dresses—everything I ever wanted while I was in Vaneis. Everything I ever dreamed of is in my grasp. But I need a friend. I see that now. None of those court fops or companions are my friends—well, except for one. But I need one more."

He stared at her and kicked up a bit of sand with his shiny black boot. Glancing up at the sky and then back down at her, he sighed and said, "So could I." With a deep bow, he asked, "Milady, would you care to accompany me to the Afternoon Ball?"

She curtsied and replied, "I would be delighted."

He grasped her hands, grinning, while reaching within himself to activate the spell that would take them away from the Aether. With a mischievous smile, she said, "No, let me. I think this bracelet has a little power left in it."

With a swirl of magic, they were transported to the beach just below the Companions’ Guild courtyard. Music drifted down the Cliffside to the beach from the orchestra above.

Ciardis took off her dark cloak and unpinned her hair. Impishly, she asked, "Would you care for a dance, milord?"

He blushed a deep crimson. The blush ran all the way down to the collar of his white shirt. The dress looked beautiful on her, she knew; the red set off her dark skin and her chestnut curls, which fell seductively down her back.

As he stepped forward across the sand to accept her invitation, Ciardis couldn’t help but think he was accepting more than an invitation to dance.

Thank You

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