Authors: Elizabeth Haydon
“That's a wonderful start,” he said. “I will endeavor to maintain a respectful distance this time.”
“Thank you. With any luck, it will only be for a short time more.”
Ashe closed his eyes and listened to the sound of her breathing until it became regular, the soft music of the night he loved so dearly to hear as she fell into the darkness of sleep. He felt the prickle of energy as the dragon came forth to wrap itself around her dreams, and let go of wakefulness himself.
“I cannot wait until you tell me truthfully that you love me again,” he said aloud as sleep came for him, knowing she could not hear him. “Assuming you ever do.”
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THE SKELETON COAST, SORBOLD
Once Achmed had made certain that Rath had Grunthor well in hand to travel back to Ylorc, he walked out as far onto the beach again as he could without feeling nervous and felt around for a stiff breeze.
It did not come right away, or at least he was unsatisfied enough with the ones that did to keep from making a decision on one.
Finally, after watching the sun slide two hands down the welkin of the sky toward the horizon, he felt one steady and sure enough to trust, and, wrapping his now-dry cloak solidly around himself, he took hold of the updraft and allowed it to carry him, with a series of die-downs and updrafts, to the place he felt he should return to before he went home to the Bolglands for a decidedly long time.
He could not imagine the desire to leave there ever again.
IN THE TWENTY-ONE-MILE-WIDE CANYON AT THE BASE OF THE TOWER OF JIERNA TAL, JIERNA'SID, SORBOLD
The wind set him down a little farther to the east than he had expected, so Achmed waited, crouched on the canyon floor, until he was certain that he had not landed in the midst of hostile locals or Talquist's guards.
After more than an hour of waiting, the only entities to greet him were horned toads, salamanders, and a jurilla that came upon him quite by accident and had almost had a fatal fit upon discovering him. It had screeched at him in its characteristic defense mechanism, then leapt away in panic when it had done so.
Achmed remained amused for some time, wondering if every animal in the late emperor's realm was as pretentious and cowardly as he had been.
Once he had determined that he was very likely unseen, as he had been the entire time he had made his way across this canyon before, Achmed set to, aligning his course to the place where he had come upon a body some time ago.
Surprisingly, it was still there, unmolested by coyotes and carrion, dry and withered as it had been before, its empty eye sockets staring at the painfully blue sky.
When he came to a stop at her feet, Achmed exhaled and remained standing in as close to a respectful position as he could. He remained thus until just before dusk, then set to gathering the dry weeds and scrub he needed.
Achmed had built more than his share of pyres, and built another one now, fashioning it as cleanly as he could. Now he had soldiers to do such things; it was a good reminder of the value of humility.
When at last the bier was complete, he rose and went back to the Seer's body, unrecognizable in the arid heat of the canyon.
“There's no Time like the Present,” he said wryly.
With an uncharacteristic level of respect and decorum, he hoisted the corpse from the cactus bed where he had set it, awaiting the arrival of this day, then carried the elderly Seer, Anwyn and Manwyn's fragile sister, to her ceremonial blessing ground.
He tried to remember the words to the Lirin death ritual he and Grunthor had observed many times. Finally, when they refused to return to his brain, he resorted to using the words to one of Grunthor's favorite marching cadences that the Sergeant-Major had used in the training and intimidation of his troops.
This may be the day you die
And if it is, that's fine
It's a very mealy apple that
Stays too long on the vine
Don' be sad yer life ain't long
Don't wish that you could stay
'Cause everyone'll take a turn
At dying anyway.
A smile crossed his face, imagining what the dreamy Seer would have said.
Then faded quickly, knowing that it would have been irritating, no matter what it was.
He stood a quiet vigil until nightfall. Just before night came he struck the tinder against a rock, then ignited the pyre.
It never ceased to amaze him how much a Lirin funeral pyre and funeral, something Rhapsody had given him careful training in, could make him reach back to the times in his life when he was lonely.
Those times had been few and far between as well, not because he had benefited from the love of many friends and happy acquaintances; Achmed had rarely bestowed the honor of friendship on anyone he had run into since coming to the Middle Continent. Rather, it took a major life event, the significant loss of someone or something that mattered to him, that allowed Achmed to feel anything at all sometimes.
He lowered the stick he had used to light the fire, then maintained his respectful silence and waited for the smoke to take the woman's ashes into the sky.
It took less than the span of a dozen heartbeats.
Finally, when what had once been the Seer of the Present had been reduced to nothing more than ash and taken by the wind, the Bolg king waited until said wind had come and completely scoured that part of the canyon clean.
Goodbye, Rhonwyn,
he thought.
Irritating as you were, I am always grateful to have known you, because now I can go back to my life knowing that the Present is as fleeting as the wind in more ways than one.
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UNDERVALE, THE DEEP KINGDOM OF THE NAIN
The better part of eleven days' journey had them in sight of the Molten River.
Rhapsody had little to no memory of the place, so it was necessary for Ashe to use his dragon senses to guide them along the passageways, by which even he, with his superior sensing capability, was confused and disoriented.
Finally he was able to lead the way, through all the ferocious security checkpoints, to the chambers where her four friends had put their lives in abeyance in order to be able to help keep their child safe.
Just as they cleared the last checkpoint, Analise appeared at the end of the stone hallway.
A bundle was in her arms, not too much bigger than it had been when Rhapsody had said goodbye.
Ashe stepped forward eagerly, then reined in his excitement long enough to allow his wife to hurry ahead first. The wide smile that had come over his face faded at the look of stark terror on hers.
“Aria?”
Rhapsody stared down the hallway at her old friend holding her son. Then she inhaled slowly and gestured for Ashe to go on ahead.
Ashe looked at her for a moment, then made his way hastily down the hall. He took the blanketed baby gently into his arms, trying to ignore the look of surprise turning to shock on Analise's face as she locked eyes with Rhapsody.
Then all else faded into oblivion at the sight of his sleeping son.
Ashe turned Meridion toward him and gazed down at him, allowing his dragon sense to assess him as gently as it could so as not to wake him.
The child had obviously been fed recently, and had slipped even more recently into a deep slumber. His golden curls had grown longer; with his eyes closed, he was a miniature of his mother, with long black lashes brushing his rosy gold skin, his tiny mouth with lips shaped like a curved bow. His face was free from care, though the dragon could tell that within a short time it would be wreathed in the comic scowl Rhapsody had shown him on several occasions when she had brought the baby to visit him through the scrying power of the Lightcatcher.
Then the dragon's network of heightened awareness sensed warm saltwater on the surface of the child's skin; Ashe blinked, and felt the swell of tears that had crept into his own eyes, unnoticed, that were beginning to fall on the baby. A fondness beyond measure rose in his long-tortured heart, followed by a tide of unbridled love long repressed that almost overwhelmed him.
“Hello, my son,” he said, too softly for the baby to hear. “I love you. You seem to have done a fine job of growing strong and healthy without getting too big too fast. I was afraid you would be riding a horse before I got the chance to see you again. I know that your forbearance will make your mama happy, too. Well done, Meridion.” His ability to resist shattered, and he pressed a gentle kiss onto the baby's forehead, letting his lips linger there, breathing in the child's sweet scent.
Meridion slept on, oblivious.
Finally he forced his gaze away from the little boy and looked back down the hallway at the child's mother again.
Rhapsody no longer seemed terrified; her aspect had settled into a sharp look in her eyes set in a face that was otherwise expressionless. Ashe beckoned to her.
“Come, Ariaâcome see our boy.”
She swallowed hard, then pursed her lips, as if thinking intently. Finally she came slowly down the hallway, coming to a stop a few steps away from her husband and child. Ashe started to put the baby in her arms, but she stepped quickly away.
“You hold him for now,” she said quietly. “I'm still not sure what I have to do yet.”
“All right,” Ashe said, choking back his disappointment. “Take your timeâwe'll be fighting over who gets to hold him soon enough.”
“Here,” Analise said, opening the door through which she had come. “Come in here, m'lord, m'lady; you'll have privacy and safety in the rooms we have shared when taking care of your son.” Ashe followed her, as did Rhapsody a moment later, into a large room full of Nain guards and through another doorway, bound in brass, with sentries on either side who opened it.
Beyond the second door was another, much smaller room furnished handsomely with a beautifully crafted cradle. An interior chamber contained an adult bed and a small sofa and chair, human-sized, as well as everything needed for the care of an infant.
Analise stepped aside to allow the royal couple entry; as Rhapsody passed through the doorway, Analise touched her elbow. The Lady Cymrian stopped for a moment, and a smile flickered over her face as she exchanged a glance with her friend. Then the elderly Cymrian woman bowed and withdrew, closing the door and leaving the young family alone in the room.
Ashe brushed another kiss onto Meridion's head as the baby stretched and yawned, then returned to sleep.
“He's starting to make intermittent suckling motions, and the scowl is coming,” Ashe said gently. “Come, Ariaâtake back your name, so that you can be truly reunited with him, too, before he wakes.”
Rhapsody watched for several long moments. Then, tentatively, she put out her hand, struggling to keep it from trembling, and touched the tiny pearl in the baby's earlobe.
Her index finger caressed the small jewel, and Ashe concentrated, waiting for the hum he had heard and the glow he had seen the last time he had watched her retrieve a memory in this way.
Nothing happened.
Rhapsody cleared her throat softly, turning away so as not to disturb the baby, then began to hum her naming note,
ela
, the sixth of the scale. Ashe smiled as it began to change the air around them ever so slightly, clearing it as if after a rainstorm. When her note was resonating strongly, she began to chant words in Ancient Lirin, then looked up at him.
“Doâdo you remember my old name?”
“Of course I do,” he assured her, trying to keep his voice low. “Better than I remember my own. You warned me once to be careful uttering it outright, however.” She nodded. “So I will tell it to you in pieces, much as you once told it to me.” Rhapsody nodded again.
“âRhapsody' is your middle name, given to you by your Lirin mother, a Lirin name, a musical name, because she wanted you to have a musical soul. But your human father wanted to name you after his mother, so the first name you were given was her first name also, âAmelia.' Your family called you âEmmy' for short, but your friends, and the people of Merryfield, where you lived as a child, called you âEmily.' It was that name you gave me when I first asked who you were on the night we met in Serendair. And your patronymic, your family name, was âTurner,' as in Earth-turner, you saidâa farmer's surname. I'm not sure which of these you gave to Meridion, however.”