AN acolyte roused Tarsius shortly before his meeting to announce the evening meal. He was pleased not to see Zara curled up asleep in the room. Perhaps the warnings he and others had given about impropriety had finally sunk in. It pleased him immensely that she was making an effort to fit in.
Admit it, though. You are disappointed she was not the first person you saw upon waking.
He sighed. Fine. Consider it admitted. He could hardly lie to himself.
He rolled out of bed, patted a sleeping Cygnet, and straightened his clothes. He ran a brush through his hair, pulled it back to his nape, and tied it with a leather strip. Long knife and sheath in hand, he slipped out to meet with the head of the knighthood. Food must wait.
He paused in the doorway and glanced back. Cygnet scarcely made note of his departure, stretching out more fully on the floor. With a chuckle, he pulled the door closed.
* * *
Zara had buried herself so deep into reading that she didn’t hear the knock on the door or the soft grind of the mechanism as it opened. A hand touched her shoulder. She leaped out of the chair and away. An acolyte jumped back a couple of feet, eyes wide in alarm.
Jerrod raised his head long enough to see what all the commotion was about then dropped it back to his paws, unconcerned.
A weak smile touched the acolyte’s mouth. “I apologize for disturbing you, my lady, but this letter just arrived for you. I also wished to inform you that everyone will gather for the meal within the half hour.” He bowed slightly and left the room.
The door closed softly.
Zara dropped into her chair and sighed with relief, her heart gradually slowing to a normal rhythm. Her gaze fell on the scroll, puzzled. Who would write to her? She didn’t know anyone who would need to resort to such forms of communication. She picked it up, broke the generic wax seal, and carefully unrolled the parchment.
My Dearest Zara,
It was with considerable concern that I learned of your altercation with Mistress Pitlo and her companions. I was greatly relieved to discover you had escaped serious injury. To say I am impressed with your handling of the situation is an understatement. Very well done, my lady!
It’s been my pleasure to watch you heal and return to life throughout these past weeks. I pray you continue to fare well. I look forward to spending time with you in the future. Until then, rest well and know that I am never far from you and ever watchful. I will see that no harm befalls you. And rest assured, Mistress Pitlo won’t bother you again. You have my word.
With respect,
An admirer
A second reading only left her more confused. Who could have written it? Some of it seemed to allude to Tarsius, but he could simply speak to her. No need for intrigue. She rolled the parchment and laid it on the table. Who could the mysterious letter-writer be? No one came to mind.
A knock on the door startled her. Another acolyte announcing dinner.
Her gaze settled on the open book and remained there, torn. Stay and read more? Or go eat? She wasn’t all that hungry.
To ensure no one else surprised her, she dragged a chair over to block the door then returned to her seat. Elbows on the table, she let the words in the book draw her back into a different reality, dismissing the letter.
* * *
Tarsius knocked on the heavy wooden door. A muffled response came from the other side. He pushed it open, stepped inside, and quietly closed it behind him. Lord Cuiryl Marius glanced up from writing and smiled. Tarsius bowed respectfully and waited. The elder knight returned to work but didn’t make Tarsius wait long. He quickly finished writing and set aside the quill.
“Tarsius.” He waved a hand to indicate a chair. “Please, have a seat. I have heard quite a bit about you these past weeks.”
Tarsius nodded without comment. None of it good, he bet.
“Are you determined to kill your father?”
“I have no control over my father’s reactions.” If Father would trust him, it might help both of them, but the man had not even the smallest measure of trust in his oldest son. Tarsius could do nothing about that. “I wish he understood. I must do what I believe is right.”
“Quite true.” Cuiryl nodded and chuckled. “You would be a priest had you listened to him.” His face settled into more professional lines. “I imagine you wonder why I have summoned you.”
“Yes.” Dread fell over Tarsius. His stomach tightened. Being summoned meant one thing. An assignment. He would have to leave Mil’antias. Please, Sear’dan, keep this trip short. For Zara’s sake.
“I have a mission for you.” The knight’s tone became more formal. “I need you and a small contingent of soldiers to act as escort to a priest who must travel to Tel’antias. You must get him there safely and return. Nothing more.”
Nothing more.
Those words echoed through Tarsius’ mind as he took his leave minutes later and returned to the main building. He retrieved Cygnet from his room and sat at the table in the dining hall minutes later to eat with his family. Did the elder knight realize how much there truly was to such a mission? Before Zara’s appearance, it would have been simple, not worthy of a moment’s hesitation or doubt. Now it was a mountain to overcome. It would require Zara to stay behind the three or so days he would be gone. How would she take that?
When she failed to appear for the meal, he stopped a passing servant to inquire about her. She had been alerted to the meal. No one had seen her since. Several people noted her absence and remarked about it. Tarsius offered no explanation. He had none.
Silence fell when Master Ka’lema entered and took an empty seat at Mother’s side. The elderly illusionist nodded calmly to the room. “I presume young Zara is studying,” he said loud enough for those nearest them to hear. His questioning gaze fell on Tarsius.
Tarsius shrugged, uncertain whether to agree or not. Zara had quit school, but there was knowledge in the old eyes that spoke of insight Tarsius might not have. “She was informed of the meal, so I assume she chose not to attend.”
With a pleased smile, the illusionist nodded.
What did he know? Tarsius suppressed the urge to question the old man in front of everyone. He would find out soon enough.
The moment the meal ended, he excused himself to search for Zara. The door to her room was locked. He knocked. No answer. He knocked harder. Had she gone to sleep early? A sharp bark on the other side of the door told him Jerrod was awake.
* * *
“Soon, my pet, very soon.” Ray’din smiled and patted the bony head with affection. An impatient snort of smoke answered his promise. “It won’t be long now.”
“You can’t wi-i-in,” came a familiar singsong voice, drawing out the last word with mocking emphasis.
The monstrous creature raised its head with a fiery grunt at the annoyance it sensed from its master. Yellow eyes burned brighter and searched for the creature causing it.
“No one asked you, Bastion.”
Giggles erupted from the darkness.
“Besides, I have things planned more carefully this time.”
“This time, this time, you will fail, too,” the creature chanted melodically, laughing hysterically at his own joke.
Ray’din and his massive pet growled impotently into the darkness.
Maniacal, childish laughter faded into the distance.
* * *
Jerrod’s bark pulled Zara abruptly out of the exercises she’d been performing as she read. The unexpected disruption left her weak and disoriented. She leaned her head on the table until the worst of the dizziness passed then glared at Jerrod. His golden gaze stared back without apology. He went to the door, staring intently at it. He barked again when she made no move to rise.
She pushed to her feet, pulled the chair away from the door, and unlocked it. With more than a little impatience, she yanked it open. He sat and gazed at her with a puppy grin. If he hadn’t wanted out, what had he been carrying on about? She sighed and pushed the door to close it.
“Are you angry with me?”
She startled and glanced up sharply.
Tarsius stood in the hallway, a troubled frown puckering his brow. Cygnet sat at his side, head cocked in question.
Zara stepped back, door in hand, and shook her head. Disorientation intensified. She put a hand to her forehead and returned to her chair, leaving the door open. Tarsius kneeled in front of her, settling one hand on her knee as the other cupped her cheek.
“What is it?” His brow creased.
She leaned back heavily in the chair and closed her eyes, fighting to regain equilibrium.
* * *
Tarsius’ frown deepened. His gaze settled on the book open on the table. Jumbled symbols made him blink a couple of times. Were those supposed to be directions of some sort? Good grief. And he had thought geography class had been bad. A scroll lay nearby. It bore no markings.
“She needs rest.” Master Ka’lema shuffled into the room, his cane tapping softly on the stone floor. “You must learn control, Zara. Otherwise, it will sap your strength. There’s nothing you cannot accomplish with it, but you must have control.” He closed the book and patted it with a loving hand.
She frowned. “I did... until Jerrod barked.”
Ka’lema smiled. “Then you didn’t truly have control. Nothing outside of yourself should break your concentration. Nothing.” He leaned on Tarsius’ shoulder. “You did too much today. Go slower. You can only learn so much in one day.”
Her frown deepened, like she might argue, but she said nothing.
The cane tap-tap-tapped to the open door. “Rest for now. You’ll need your strength.”
Tarsius pulled Zara to her feet, helped her to bed, and eased the covers to her shoulders one-handed. She closed her eyes, her hand still grasping his. He closed his eyes and reached out with his soul. No physical injury, but her mind and body seemed almost detached from one another. As she relaxed, mind and body drew back together. Gathering some of her exhaustion to himself, he withdrew and tugged his fingers gently from her grasp.
She startled awake and sat up, eyes wide with fear. “Stay. Please.”
He settled on the bed with a frown. Why was she afraid to be alone? She’d made strides in that matter. Had she suffered a setback for some reason?
She laid back and closed her eyes with a sigh. “Why did you come?”
Tarsius hesitated.
Jerrod curled up on the rug against Cygnet.
Zara’s eyes opened, inquisitive. Something suspiciously like dread danced in the shadows.
“There’s no need to discuss it now. You must rest.”
She shifted into an upright position. Her tired gaze met his. She cocked her head and waited. She clearly wasn’t letting him off the hook.
Regret filled him. “I have an assignment. I must leave.”
Her gaze skipped away, and she dropped back onto the bed. “When?” Her lips moved, but the question never found voice.
“First light.” He adjusted the covers, tucking them around her for warmth. “I’ll be gone only a few days, four or five at most.”
“Can I go?” The question had a ring of futility to it that told him she already knew the answer.
“No.”
“Stay for a while?” She presented him with her back, curled in the fetal position.
He frowned at the sudden change of subject. “If you wish.” Back against the headboard, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes, her exhaustion closing in on him.
She rolled over, dropped a hand on his arm, and tucked her head against his side. Her eyes closed, and her breathing leveled off.
Tarsius frowned. How would she deal with days apart? She did not want to be alone, especially at night. He could not ask Shin’til or his mother to share a room with her in his stead. He should not even be doing it.
* * *
This must stop. Vil’joh scowled but maintained his sentry. Separated for a time or not, Zara belonged to Lord U’uskoh. He’d been sent after her death to protect her. As an Iykeyn soldier, to have been chosen to follow her into death had been a great honor. He hadn’t anticipated her being alive in a world he’d never known existed, and him still dead, but the latter had benefits. Least of which, no one could keep him from her. They didn’t even know he was there. One drawback though. He couldn’t physically stand between her and this man.
My Lord Iykey, give me guidance on how to intercede on Lord U’uskoh’s behalf.
* * *
Zara’s dreams were filled with U’uskoh. The gentleness of his touch, the smell of his skin, the warm timber of his voice, the humor and love in his smile, the taste of his kiss. Memories assaulted her from every direction. So vivid, her skin quivered under the questing caress of his hands.
Afraid he would disappear, she tightened her hold. He pulled away.
“No! Don’t go!”
She woke with the ache of unfulfilled desire. Heartsick grief replaced it when she recognized the bedchamber at the Sear’danian compound. Reality crept in. U’uskoh’s touch faded. Zara’s heart and body cried out in denial.
She pulled away from Tarsius, rolled over, and curled up facing the window. Grief washed over her in a flood, and Zara silently cried herself to sleep.
* * *
Thank you, Iykey, for your wise intercession.
The soldier smiled and maintained his watch.