EIGHTEEN
A GENTLE WIND blew through the Retreat of Niobe, tinged with salt and laden with the mingled scents of the fruit trees filtering its passage. Normally, the soothing balm of the garden’s aura could assuage even the most tortured mind, yet it seemed unable to cleanse Ashara of her inner turmoil. Though the drug’s heavy hand had lifted, its imprint remained.
“I am not yet fit company, Ryder Talisman. A cloud of lust still hangs over me. Do not come too close lest you also become tainted.”
Ryder wished he had the words—the magic—to make her forget. The Acolytes had bathed her, removing the soiled clothing, earth, and grass. The overwhelming scent of the Tincture no longer clung to her.
She wore the dark blue robe of the Healer, and her thick hair lay like a shining wreath about her face and shoulders. There was a dark smudge around her eyes, as though she had not slept well. Her face looked wan in the early morning light, yet outwardly there remained little else to mark her ordeal. The true battle would be with the shadows within. Not even Niobe could remove those.
The others had left them alone, sensing rightly that Ryder had the greatest chance of restoring her to her former self.
“Your nature is not base, my lady, only the circumstances that tested it. There are none here who would have acted differently. Perhaps not even Niobe…”
“You were not there!”
The vehemence of her tone startled him. It was almost an accusation. He could only stare at her in alarm, feeling the hurt and the truth of the statement cutting him deeper than the Gundring. Her eyes softened at once. She reached forward, touching his face in the briefest caress.
“Forgive me. To rest the blame upon you is wrong. You don’t know what happened there in the shadows, though I see something of it in your eyes. Yet you cannot imagine how great is my shame. Perhaps there will come a time when I can speak of it, and in the telling partially cleanse myself. But not now.”
Her thin smile was self-mocking. “I am grateful to her for introducing me to my baser self. I might never have known it otherwise. But know this, Ryder Talisman…I am a woman still.”
He grasped her hand, imparting his answer through his touch rather than by any word. “I am a man with little knowledge of my past. I am even less certain of my future. Yet one thing I have learned since coming to this world...something no different from mine. As certain as the Aether is pure, the evil or good we do returns to us in kind. And so it shall be with her.”
She did not resist as he enfolded her in his arms, feeling the soft firmness of her body. The desire enfolded him like a blistering wind. He kissed her and her lips were warm and wet, the taste of her mouth sweet. He felt her response, yet the uncertainty grew in him whether the drug might still affect her. With gentle firmness, he drew apart, not taking his eyes from hers so she would understand. The time would come. Yet not now. And not here.
“Do not put yourself so low. Your spirit is indomitable, your courage as great as any I have ever seen.”
“I will need it,” Ashara stated grimly. “Though I have tasted wrongness, I have not yet partaken of true evil. Georgina was merely the tip of the iceberg when compared to Zel…”
“That nightmare will be one of your own making, Sister, yet now there is another more immediate one.”
Ryder looked up and saw Shaan standing there. The words sounded dire even to him, and Ashara rose from the bench.
Brother and sister stood toe to toe, and the tall Adept’s face remained a cold, unreadable mask. “Our father is dying. We must return to Faerwyn-Joss with all haste. Only with luck will we arrive before he has lost his tie to reality.” He turned to Ryder and his voice was no less brusque. “Once again, the House of Sid is in your debt, my friend. Yet now is not the time to speak of suitable repayment.”
Ryder nodded, but his eyes remained upon Ashara, drinking her in as though she were a glass of wine, the taste of which he would never forget. “I am not yet my own master, and there is a challenge before me I might not win. But if possible, I will come to you on Faerwyn-Joss.”
Ashara hesitated, glancing at her brother. “However much I might wish it, such a thing would be unwise. Zel…”
“Do not speak his name!” Ryder cut her off harshly. “I have sworn he shall not have you, even though it might mean my life.”
“I do not think such a sacrifice will be necessary, Sword Thane,” Shaan spoke ominously. “Let us await the outcome of the Korda. The House of Mondragon may yet lose one of their number.”
He turned and walked away. After a last glance at Ryder, one filled with longing and regret, Ashara followed.
Before they had cleared the trees, Ryder saw them meet a large group led by Fortunatus. With him were Niobe and Deemus, and also the wenlords, Shaka, Roland, and Thorgrim Halfinger. The giant form of Arkadies Venn towered above them all, nearly blocking Mendiko and the Reamurian girl from sight. They did not pause long. A flurry of salutes and farewells drifted down to him. Then the Sids were gone.
The group continued toward him and he waited, feeling suddenly bereft of purpose, yet glad at the same time to have his friends around him.
Fortunatus’ face was grim as he relayed what had happened in council, and what he expected would be the archduke’s answer.
“To besmear a flag of truce,” Roland spoke bitterly. “Where has honor gone?”
Considering the animosity between Fortunatus and Victor Mondragon, the Pat’Riark’s response surprised Ryder.
“He does what he must.” Fortunatus did not allow them a chance to question his statement. He gathered the wenlords and the giant Guild Jain in a single glance. “The Senach prisoner must escape. I look to you to accomplish it. Use whatever means are necessary…hopefully short of bloodshed. But you must set him free.”
Ryder heard the deep rumble of Arkadies’ voice replying he would arrange it, even as Niobe drew him away from the others.
“Do not be hasty in confronting the trial before you. Go away for a time to a quiet place and gather yourself. Be certain you are prepared. There is nothing I can do to aid you, apart from offering you my blessing.” She reached out and touched his shoulder briefly, yet he felt an instant tingling sensation.
“May the glow of the healing touch linger long in your heart.”
She spoke to him further, telling him what she knew and what she had felt of the Flamen, even though the memories must have hurt her.
He bowed his head in wordless thanks, knowing she would sense his gratitude. Yet as they left the Retreat and began the long walk along the coast toward the Pegasus, he felt more lost and alone than ever.