Authors: Thea Atkinson
Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Paranormal, #Romance, #Historical, #Ancient World, #Coming of Age
"Did he ever say he was your
Arm?" His expression was still unreadable.
She thought back over their time together.
"No. He never said it."
"No," he agreed. "Because he
isn't."
She was confused. It was true he had never
said so, but she had assumed it, and he never corrected her.
"Did he ever protect you that you
remember? Did he ever shield you with his body, make magic for you?"
She shook her head.
"It's because he can't. He is his
mother's Arm."
His mother's Arm. So that meant he'd
intentionally misled her--if her father could be believed.
"Why would he lie to me?"
"Why would I?"
She kept her his gaze until he lowered his
first. "Yes," he said. "I do know that I stand to gain. I admit
it. But he lied to you. I never did. I've never lied."
If he hadn't lied, it was only because he
didn't care enough to pretend for her, she thought. When she didn't respond, he
continued, pressing it seemed because he felt he needed to, that he sensed her
reluctant belief.
"He didn't tell you about the others.
Did he? And yet he knew about them, he knew they were still alive. How did he
manage to survive your thirst? How was he able to survive when you were able to
kill three fully gifted crones? Have you asked yourself that?"
She couldn't answer. She'd never once given
it a thought. One thing stood out to her, though; Yenic's aversion to killing
Yuri and slaughtering the innocent people within Sarum. She held to that, she
had to keep believing in that. It was the one thing that could dispel her
father's reasoning.
"What are you implying?"
"You know what I'm implying."
"But it doesn't make sense; if he
wanted Sarum he could have had it."
"Sarum is a small thing really. To you
and I, a large thing, but to someone with other motives…" He shrugged.
"But why would he ask me not to attack
you, Father? Why would he speak of slaughter rather than war? Why would he
defend you?" She felt the warmth of Yenic's words of safety, of his kiss,
all slipping away and she was desperate to recover it.
A smile snaked over Yuri's face and for a
second, Alaysha believed him far more clever than she’d ever thought.
"Control doesn’t have to be an overt
thing," he said, and she had the grey shifting thought that she'd heard it
somewhere before. "If I had ever asked you to stay your hand, what would
you have thought of me?"
She considered that. She had been willing
to let him die because he’d always used her. Would she have been as willing if
he’d ever shown kindness to his targets, treated them like people instead of
objects? If he’d ever given consideration for how she would feel about
killing?"
"It would be harder to see you as an
object," is what she said.
He nodded. "And an object can be done
harm much easier than can a person, no matter how cruel. Isn't that what you
were taught? To feel nothing when you killed? To imagine the warriors as
targets and not as men?
"What if those old women in the
village were not the others," he asked." Or if they were, what if
they were not there of their free will?"
"But--"
"How were you manipulated?"
She considered it. "Aedus. Bronwyn.
Yenic too."
He nodded. "What if those crones truly
were the real witches who had loved ones held captive somewhere?"
She hadn't considered that either. She
tried to picture Yenic with his honeyed gaze and find deception in it. She
found all she could do was see him suffering from the dreamer's worm, the
swelling he bore from trying to save Aedus, the way his mouth looked when he
wanted to kiss her.
That last made her chest tight with anger.
If he'd deceived her, he'd used a most vile way to do it.
"He says you're untrained, and maybe
in your gift, you are, but I trained you well no matter what he says. Use what
I have given you--harden your heart like I taught you so you can't be treated
as a tool against your will. It's the best way."
"So what if he did lie to me, Father;
I killed his sister. Her unborn child. All for you." She felt the strength
of her argument weakening in the reality of her father's steely stare.
"You are so young, Witch. You see only
what's in front of you while other men see far and beyond. Have you thought
about what would happen if a man could control all the elements? Water, fire,
earth, air? Have you?"
She looked him over, trying to read what
was unreadable in him. "It depends on the man."
He sighed. "I didn't get to be Emir of
Sarum by trusting anyone, or from being kind."
He passed her a draft of warm liquid:
dreamer's root, she supposed, and she took large gulps of it. Everything had
seemed so simple before and now it had turned more complex than she could
manage. All she wanted was sleep. Her stomach burned. Her mind burned. Worst of
all, her chest burned as though someone had reached inside and set fire to a
secret place within.
"I don't know if I'm the right
man," Yuri said to her, "But at least I can say I wanted to prevent a
war that might finish us all off, and if it comes to our threshold anyway, I
will fight it." His last words were passion filled, and Alaysha had to
struggle to keep his gaze under the fire of his words.
"And this is what you didn't tell me
before. Why you wanted Yenic and Yenic's tribe dead." She could hear the
slur in her words as the drug took effect, and she fought to keep her eyes
open, her ears capable of hearing his answer.
"Better to have the only witch when
you can't have them all, than to let someone else control the most of
them."
She wanted to believe Yenic could be
trusted, but there were too many questions now to simply believe him on faith.
Her stomach squirmed as she thought about him and his touch--how it had felt
lying next to him in the dark--and she started to feel the sure pangs of anger
and hurt. How could he have done such a thing to her? She'd been foolish and
ignorant, and even young as he'd kept telling her she was. He'd used her more
foully than her father had ever done.
But could she trust her father either? Best
she do like Yuri: keep her own counsel and trust only her own motives because
those were the one she could fully know. She would never be used again against
her will: not by Yuri, and certainly not by Yenic. Especially not Yenic.
She was so tired, far more tired than
weariness or dreamer's draft could ever account for. She watched her father
wait for her to close her eyes, and when she did she heard him move across the
cabin and out the door. She fought to open her eyes, to be sure he'd gone and
that she was alone. Only then did she feel relieved enough to let go the tears
that burned in her eyes, and when she was done, she felt more certain. No
matter what came, she knew she could trust herself and herself alone.
For the present, though, she'd lie here and
listen to the birds and thank The Deities that for now, that was all they were
– songbirds celebrating the day, and not carrion vultures shrieking over an
unexpected and unnatural meal. That might come another day, but it wasn't now;
it wouldn't be today.
She closed her eyes again and let the
birdsong send her to sleep.
###
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