By Vengeance Guided (The Lost Shrines Book 1) (18 page)

"It's warded or trapped in some way, isn't it?" Daen asked.

"Most likely," Caerwyn agreed.

Lia just stared at it and Caerwyn pulled in a small amount of the surrounding magic. He ignored Daen's sharp inhale when light sparked and glowed along his skin, focusing instead on seeing what Lia no doubt saw, as well.

The magic lines overlaying the thick wood were dark and warped, spiked and disconnected from the magic around it. Like some horrible barbed wire infused with evil energy. Energy that was not a natural part of the magic of the valley.

"You said your Attribute
twisted
the curse on Daen. Did you mean that literally?"

"Yes. It reshaped the magic."

"Can you do that without Vengeance?"

"No. I can see the magic, but I can only use a small amount of what's inside me. I can't touch something like that." Caer waved his hand at the malformed energy. "Not without the insulating protection of my Attribute."

Her lips twisted and her eyes danced uncertainly between the trunk and the two men in the room.

"Daen, could you excuse us for a moment?" Lia finally asked.

"That's not really a request, is it?"

Lia shook her head with a determined glint.

Once the door closed behind him, Lia kept her eyes averted and asked, "Can you do it if
I
insulated you?"

He looked at her sharply, but her gaze remained firmly stuck on the trunk. "I think…yeah. Yes. If you can insulate me, why can't you do it yourself?"

Her chest rose and fell in three deep breaths before she turned and faced him. "Because it's not connected. I can only touch the…the valley's magic."

He heard the hesitation and knew she was glossing over much more than she said. But she was sharing something, even with her hurt and her withdrawal, and he knew it was important not to press for more.

He only nodded. "All right, how do we do this?"

She shifted her weight but paused like she stood on the edge of some great precipice. In her way, it was. Sure, his secrets had been spilled all over the place that morning but he hadn't offered any of those on his own. Maybe it was time he told her the truth to make up for some of his lies.

"I came here to find a sorceress." Her gaze got sharper and he could only shrug. "I found a sorcerer instead. I have no intention of sharing your secrets or hurting your valley."

She still looked wary but stepped closer and placed her hand lightly on his arm. "Are you ready?"

It was a risk. If she was wrong about being able to insulate him, it would be like being struck by lightning.

Then the air around him changed, growing warmer. Softer. He opened his own magic and shifted his vision.

Caer gasped at the beautiful sight of light and energy dancing around him, brushing against him, curling close. He'd seen the way the lines of power had filled the valley. Now he saw that it all connected to Lia in a way he'd never seen magic react to anyone or anything.

Nothing in his experience had prepared him for the way the swirls of power wrapped him snugly in a warm, glowing embrace. The light touch of energy caressed him and the skin where Lia's hand rested was an electric connection he never wanted to lose.

As much as he wanted to explore the sensation, wallow in it and learn every nuance of it, they had work to do.

The spiky lines of magic binding the trunk were dark and deformed. Caer tried to find an ending, a starting point to unravel it, but the sick-feeling energy writhed and coiled like an agitated snake.

Eventually, he found an end and his hand brushed over the wood when his own magic took hold and began unweaving the moving, complicated knot. With each inch he removed, the unnatural energy faded into vapor until nothing remained but normal wood and metal.

Together they carefully lifted the lid. The huge trunk contained only a few scraps of paper and an empty medicinal vial.

"That's it?" Caer let out the frustrated growl, and he scooped up the blank scraps to examine them more closely. "All that for shreds of paper and a sticky bottle? Why bother with wards?"

"The wards were permanent, I think. He must have taken whatever was in here with him when he left."

Her nose scrunched, and she stared down into the trunk next to him. With a thoughtful frown, she reached over and grabbed a shirt from Gui's wardrobe, wrapping it around her hand.

Then, using the fabric as a barrier, Lia gingerly lifted the vial, keeping it several inches from her nose, she sniffed at the bottle.

A few deep purple drops of liquid still clung to the bottom of the glass. Unconsciously echoing Lia, Caer inhaled as well and noticed the slight, over-sweet scent. Like grapes and honey. The smell was familiar and yet not. Like a permutation of something he'd known once.

"What is that? It smells like…like…"

"Lethym. A diluted tincture mixed with juniper, plums, and sugar."

A cold chill worked its way up his spine. He knew the answer, but he had to ask, anyway. "What's it for?"

She looked at him for a long time, delicately wrapping the vial into the shirt now. He felt her weighing him, considering. He knew she found him wanting but she also needed him.

"It's poison. A slow acting one. Over time, it weakens the victim both mentally and physically. Eventually, the body is so worn out from fighting the poison, it just gives up. There is no cure."

Terror gripped his heart. He considered who Gui had been close to, what he most likely wanted. If he'd given it to Lia…

She set the bundle on the desk with deliberate care. Then she picked up a ceramic inkwell and hurled it against the door. It shattered with a resounding crack, followed by the tinkling of stone dropping to the floor.

"That son of a bitch killed my sister. He murdered her in front of all of us, in front of me, and I never saw."

"Your sister?"

"It explains why she got so ill, so fast. Why none of the usual remedies saved her from the pneumonia. She was already too weak from the poison to fight it. It's also why she listened to him. Gave in to all his crack-potted ideas. The lythem was eating at her mind."

Tears streamed unchecked down her face while Lia paced and growled with impotent rage. Caer knew he wouldn't be welcome, but he couldn't let her suffer alone. Stepping in front of her, he wrapped her up and let his head fall against hers. She struggled for a few seconds but the token protest didn't last nearly as long as he'd thought it would.

She buried her face in the fabric of his shirt and the dampness soaked through it quickly. Her entire body trembled against him and helplessness clawed at him. He wanted to hunt Gui down, destroy the bastard with his bare hands. Offer Lia the man's heart on a silver platter.

For now, he could only hold her. But there was something he needed to know. "He didn't…you're not… Could he have poisoned you as well?"

The shuddering stopped, and she lifted her head to blink up at him. Then her eyes went a little unfocused and the room got a little warmer. He realized she was using the magic to assess her own health.

"No. No. This vial would only have enough for one person." She turned thoughtful then. "Nel caught him, trying to sneak into the herbarium not long after Marta's death. We assumed he wanted to find out what we were up to in there. She took steps to make sure he couldn't cross the perimeter."

"Thank the Goddess." He tugged her close again, burying his face in her hair. She was safe. She was whole and hale and hearty. Relief was a cool slide of satisfaction through his body.

Her hands clutched at his back. Before he figured out if she intended to pull him closer or push him away, a quick staccato knock sounded at the door.

Nel walked in before either of them could speak, her dour face pinching even tighter when she saw their close embrace.

"My Lord." She actually made the honorific sound like an insult. "Your guests have arrived."

Lia struggled away from him, straightening her skirts before taking several steps back. Then a scowl swung his way.

"Guests? What guests?"

*****

"Guests? What guests?" Lia asked and took another step away from Wyn. Caerwyn. Lord of Alwyn. When they'd been working together, she'd forgotten. She'd relaxed and worked side by side with Wyn.

A man who didn't exist.

"What kind of guests?" she demanded.

"Ah, I believe that would be my foster brothers."

A memory tickled at the back of her mind. The exploits of the Milesans were often fodder for the bards. In the hours since she'd first found out his name, Lia hadn't thought much beyond the fact that he wasn't who she'd believed him to be.

But he was Lord of Vengeance. Everyone had heard the story of his parents' murder by a sorceress attempting to steal one of the Ancient treasures of the Isles. Now, the story he'd told about their death took on whole new dimensions. As did his belief that she might be a sorceress.

Even older, though, was the ballad of the Hounds of the Wild Hunt. Three human boys rescued from a battlefield and resurrected in the Cauldron of Alwyn by Caerwyn's father. Lord of Death and Life. The three shared the ability to shift shape, from man to ferocious Hound. They also shared the Attribute of Harbinger of Death.

Lia took a deep breath, pulled her shoulders back. "Well, let's go greet our guests, then."

Caerwyn looked at her with surprise and a bit of suspicion. Whatever he expected, whatever she felt, Lia didn't have time to have a hissy-fit about his high-handedness.

She didn't trust Caerwyn. And she realized he didn't trust her, either. She needed his help, however, if she wanted to get Tanis back. Her magic, her abilities would be weakened outside the valley and she'd need him, his brothers and anyone else willing to go along to rescue her niece.

She couldn't let herself fall back into the habit of trusting Wyn. Couldn't let herself depend on him. Lean on him.

It had been a mistake before to give in and it would be doubly so now.

The yard was once again full, with most of the manor's inhabitants and laborers finding an excuse to check out yet more newcomers. For a valley that had changed little in millennia, they seemed to be inundated with visitors lately.

Wyn met the three men waiting on the porch with affectionate hugs and wide smiles. Lia hung back and watched, assessing them. All three were huge, tall and broad with blond hair so pale it was almost white. All three dressed for war in white fighting leathers and an arsenal of weapons.

"Lia. I'd like to introduce my foster brothers, Maddyn, Phelan, and Ranulf."

Several gasps echoed around them when he announced the familiar names. She cast a quelling glare at the rude reaction. Stepping forward, Lia held out her hand to each in turn and offered a hospitable smile. "Welcome to our valley. I'd ask what brings you here, but I think I already know." Her glance slid toward Wyn and his face flickered from relieved to abashed.

"I asked them to come after you were attacked," he murmured, keeping his voice low enough so it stayed between them. "To help protect you."

Turning to face him, she arched an eyebrow, trying hard not to show her annoyance in the face of the growing audience. He winced, lifted one shoulder in an abbreviated shrug and tried a charming smile.

"Since they're here, they are the best trackers in the Isles. They can find Gui in no time."

A gruff clearing of throat drew her attention to a group of older farmers. Men who had stood by Gui. Men who did not know, yet, exactly what kind of monster they had backed. They knew something had happened, rumors already flying from mouth to ear that Gui had fled. The full details were not common knowledge, though.

They had, however, known they were messing with a thousand years of tradition. From the scowls on many of their faces, they still had not learned to respect that the Handmaiden always knew best.

Lia did not want to deal with them now. Ignoring further attempts to get her attention, she invited the Hounds into the manor. A move that elicited more boorish gasps from the scandalized crowd.

With an eye roll, she said, "Let's take this conversation inside, where we won't disturb everyone's labor. It seems my people forget their work ethic whenever we have visitors."

*****

Lia fed wood into the small cook fire while Wyn finished setting up the impromptu campsite. Daen had returned to his capital in order to prepare for the possibility that their quest led to retribution from Tresk. Before he’d left, they’d had a brief, oblique conversation agreeing to end the betrothal. She wasn’t sure if he knew about the moon-bond, but, from the way his eyes slid toward Wyn while they talked, he knew at least some of it.

The Hounds were out hunting down something for dinner. They’d trailed Gui's scent along the north road until it cut into the ancient forest bordering Tresk's land. Growing darkness made it difficult to maneuver the horses through the thick trees and underbrush until, despite the urgency clawing at her, even Lia accepted the need to stop for the night.

Unspoken tension stretched between them while they worked. It pulled tighter with every second but Lia intended to hold to that silence as long as she could.