Bound by Blood and Sand
Page 45
“Thank you,” Tal said.
Elan nodded, because he couldn’t imagine at all what Tal would say to Jae. Elan had a sister, too, after all, and though Erra had always been the heir—the heir, and their father’s favorite—she’d still looked after him. When they’d been young enough to play together and she’d gotten them both in trouble, she’d never left him alone to face the consequences. Even now that they were both adults and she was so busy with her responsibilities—her children, the husband she’d been forced to marry, and the lady she loved on the side—Erra still looked after him when she could. She was the one who’d made sure Elan had a plan when he came to Aredann, a way to redeem himself. Elan loved her, and his niece and nephew, and he’d do anything for them.
Tal and Jae felt the same for each other. Jae would do anything to save Tal, even give away her freedom, and Tal…
Elan realized what Tal would tell Jae after all: that his life wasn’t worth it, that she shouldn’t worry about him, that she should never bow to Elthis and let him abuse her magic. Tal would tell her that she should do anything she could to fight back and save Aredann—and break the Curse. Even if it cost Tal his life.
Elan wondered if Jae would do it, allow Tal to die so she could be free to rearrange the world into a new order. Elan would never let Erra die, if it came to that.
But Elthis would sacrifice Tal no matter what, to get what he wanted. So why shouldn’t Tal be allowed to sacrifice himself instead, for what he wanted? At least then it would be his decision to make. Elan could prevent that, simply by going back on his word, by not letting Tal pass Jae any sort of message. That was what his vow to his father demanded, and anything that risked the hold his father had over Jae was as good as breaking that vow.
Elan pressed his palm against the brand on his chest.
He didn’t want to betray his father. Even now, knowing the truth, it was still all but unthinkable to break his vows intentionally. Not just accidentally asking questions that his father didn’t want to answer, but to act directly against his father’s interests.
But the Highest made vows, too. Vows to protect the world, and everyone in it. Yet his father was willing to murder hundreds of Closest to protect his secrets.
At least Elan wouldn’t be the only vow-breaker in his family.
Jae spent the day curled up in Lady Shirrad’s old quarters, miserable and unmoving. All she could think about was Tal and that madman, and how she’d failed to protect her brother. How she’d let herself believe, for the first time in her life, that she’d had any sort of power over anything, that she’d been safe.
She was a fool, and she deserved every moment of misery for it. She would even have welcomed the Curse’s steady, unrelenting pain as punishment, because her idiocy was going to get Tal killed. Now she would never make any difference, she wouldn’t be able to save Aredann, and nothing would change—except that if she dared breathe wrong, Elthis would slaughter her brother.
A tiny voice in her mind rebelled, asking: Would they really kill him? If he’s dead, they lose all their power over you.
But Tal’s life was worth more than water to her. If he died, she’d be able to take revenge, but she could never, never let him die. The thought of revenge was sweet, though. She’d deal with Elthis the way she had with Rannith, but maybe not so quickly. She thought of the garden, of the cactus spines she used to imagine as weapons. They still could be. It would be nasty, brutal. Deserved.
Gali brought her dinner. At Jae’s questioning look, she volunteered, “I haven’t seen him all day.” She handed Jae the plate. “They aren’t even allowing him to work, just keeping him in the study with them. He wasn’t in the Closest’s quarters last night. Jae…”
“I won’t let them hurt him,” Jae said.
Gali nodded but said, “You should…you should do what you think is right.”
“Saving Tal is right,” Jae said, but Gali wouldn’t look at her.
Jae wilted. Cooperating with Elthis meant abandoning Aredann, and that meant Gali would die, along with all the Closest except Tal. The idea of choosing between them, weighing Tal’s life against all of theirs, made her stomach churn, and the meal became even less appealing. But she still knew, deep down, that Tal’s life outweighed everything else. The other Closest, the Well, the Curse. He was her brother, her twin, the only one who’d ever tried to protect her. She’d endure anything if it meant saving him.
There were no right answers, and there was nothing she could do. Gali left, shutting the door behind her, and Jae pushed the plate away. Her stomach rumbled, but she didn’t mind the ache. She’d been hungry countless times in her life, and physical pain was better than letting herself get lost in thoughts again. When she shut her eyes, all she could picture were the Closest she’d known her whole life. Her mother, who’d passed away years ago. Gali, Firran, Asra, and the others she saw every day. All of them would die because she’d chosen Tal over them.
She couldn’t stop her mind from wandering toward him. She glanced at the room with her other-vision, let the world glow softly, and followed the lights through Aredann’s corridors. Elthis was in his borrowed set of rooms, with servants helping him prepare to sleep. Shirrad was nearby, alone. And farther down the hall, Tal sat cross-legged in Elan’s room. Elan was pacing, while Tal watched him warily. Elan was talking, like he’d always talked at Jae.
At least it looked like Tal was safe, for the moment.
Shirrad stirred in her quarters. She moved slowly, pausing every few feet, and headed toward Elan’s room. Jae sat up straight, the room around her fading farther away as she concentrated. She could make out Shirrad’s expression, the tension in her as she moved toward Elan and Tal.
When Shirrad reached Elan’s room, she didn’t venture in. Instead the three of them slipped out. Elan took the lead, moving just as slowly as Shirrad had, and back in the direction she’d come from. Not toward Lady Shirrad’s room and Elthis’s but toward the main hall and the center of the house. From there, they could go anywhere.
Jae watched, confused. They were obviously trying not to be seen, but she couldn’t imagine why—what they could be doing that would be so secretive. She widened her other-vision gaze and saw that only a few people were still in the halls, and though a couple were near Elan, none of them seemed headed toward him.
Elan nodded, because he couldn’t imagine at all what Tal would say to Jae. Elan had a sister, too, after all, and though Erra had always been the heir—the heir, and their father’s favorite—she’d still looked after him. When they’d been young enough to play together and she’d gotten them both in trouble, she’d never left him alone to face the consequences. Even now that they were both adults and she was so busy with her responsibilities—her children, the husband she’d been forced to marry, and the lady she loved on the side—Erra still looked after him when she could. She was the one who’d made sure Elan had a plan when he came to Aredann, a way to redeem himself. Elan loved her, and his niece and nephew, and he’d do anything for them.
Tal and Jae felt the same for each other. Jae would do anything to save Tal, even give away her freedom, and Tal…
Elan realized what Tal would tell Jae after all: that his life wasn’t worth it, that she shouldn’t worry about him, that she should never bow to Elthis and let him abuse her magic. Tal would tell her that she should do anything she could to fight back and save Aredann—and break the Curse. Even if it cost Tal his life.
Elan wondered if Jae would do it, allow Tal to die so she could be free to rearrange the world into a new order. Elan would never let Erra die, if it came to that.
But Elthis would sacrifice Tal no matter what, to get what he wanted. So why shouldn’t Tal be allowed to sacrifice himself instead, for what he wanted? At least then it would be his decision to make. Elan could prevent that, simply by going back on his word, by not letting Tal pass Jae any sort of message. That was what his vow to his father demanded, and anything that risked the hold his father had over Jae was as good as breaking that vow.
Elan pressed his palm against the brand on his chest.
He didn’t want to betray his father. Even now, knowing the truth, it was still all but unthinkable to break his vows intentionally. Not just accidentally asking questions that his father didn’t want to answer, but to act directly against his father’s interests.
But the Highest made vows, too. Vows to protect the world, and everyone in it. Yet his father was willing to murder hundreds of Closest to protect his secrets.
At least Elan wouldn’t be the only vow-breaker in his family.
Jae spent the day curled up in Lady Shirrad’s old quarters, miserable and unmoving. All she could think about was Tal and that madman, and how she’d failed to protect her brother. How she’d let herself believe, for the first time in her life, that she’d had any sort of power over anything, that she’d been safe.
She was a fool, and she deserved every moment of misery for it. She would even have welcomed the Curse’s steady, unrelenting pain as punishment, because her idiocy was going to get Tal killed. Now she would never make any difference, she wouldn’t be able to save Aredann, and nothing would change—except that if she dared breathe wrong, Elthis would slaughter her brother.
A tiny voice in her mind rebelled, asking: Would they really kill him? If he’s dead, they lose all their power over you.
But Tal’s life was worth more than water to her. If he died, she’d be able to take revenge, but she could never, never let him die. The thought of revenge was sweet, though. She’d deal with Elthis the way she had with Rannith, but maybe not so quickly. She thought of the garden, of the cactus spines she used to imagine as weapons. They still could be. It would be nasty, brutal. Deserved.
Gali brought her dinner. At Jae’s questioning look, she volunteered, “I haven’t seen him all day.” She handed Jae the plate. “They aren’t even allowing him to work, just keeping him in the study with them. He wasn’t in the Closest’s quarters last night. Jae…”
“I won’t let them hurt him,” Jae said.
Gali nodded but said, “You should…you should do what you think is right.”
“Saving Tal is right,” Jae said, but Gali wouldn’t look at her.
Jae wilted. Cooperating with Elthis meant abandoning Aredann, and that meant Gali would die, along with all the Closest except Tal. The idea of choosing between them, weighing Tal’s life against all of theirs, made her stomach churn, and the meal became even less appealing. But she still knew, deep down, that Tal’s life outweighed everything else. The other Closest, the Well, the Curse. He was her brother, her twin, the only one who’d ever tried to protect her. She’d endure anything if it meant saving him.
There were no right answers, and there was nothing she could do. Gali left, shutting the door behind her, and Jae pushed the plate away. Her stomach rumbled, but she didn’t mind the ache. She’d been hungry countless times in her life, and physical pain was better than letting herself get lost in thoughts again. When she shut her eyes, all she could picture were the Closest she’d known her whole life. Her mother, who’d passed away years ago. Gali, Firran, Asra, and the others she saw every day. All of them would die because she’d chosen Tal over them.
She couldn’t stop her mind from wandering toward him. She glanced at the room with her other-vision, let the world glow softly, and followed the lights through Aredann’s corridors. Elthis was in his borrowed set of rooms, with servants helping him prepare to sleep. Shirrad was nearby, alone. And farther down the hall, Tal sat cross-legged in Elan’s room. Elan was pacing, while Tal watched him warily. Elan was talking, like he’d always talked at Jae.
At least it looked like Tal was safe, for the moment.
Shirrad stirred in her quarters. She moved slowly, pausing every few feet, and headed toward Elan’s room. Jae sat up straight, the room around her fading farther away as she concentrated. She could make out Shirrad’s expression, the tension in her as she moved toward Elan and Tal.
When Shirrad reached Elan’s room, she didn’t venture in. Instead the three of them slipped out. Elan took the lead, moving just as slowly as Shirrad had, and back in the direction she’d come from. Not toward Lady Shirrad’s room and Elthis’s but toward the main hall and the center of the house. From there, they could go anywhere.
Jae watched, confused. They were obviously trying not to be seen, but she couldn’t imagine why—what they could be doing that would be so secretive. She widened her other-vision gaze and saw that only a few people were still in the halls, and though a couple were near Elan, none of them seemed headed toward him.
