Page 43 of Keeper of the Word (The Unsung and the Wolf Duology #2)

Chapter

Thirty-Eight

ELANNA

E lanna was accustomed to eyes trailing after her when she walked through the corridors of Castle Sidra, but the sight of two StarSeers treading together through the castle made mouths openly drop.

Elanna forced herself not to scratch her head where an ill-placed pin held her hair atop her head.

Tara had insisted that the two dress in finery this morn.

The two golden-haired StarSeers, dressed in silk brocade—sky blue for Elanna, forest green for Tara—with jewels dangling from their necks and ears, caught the eye of each and every passerby.

One servant carrying a tray nearly crashed into a four-foot vase.

When they reached the doors of the Royal Solar, Tara barely twitched a glance at the Warins guarding the door. The steward hurried down the hall toward them, his legs pumped in a ridiculous walk-run.

“Tell the sovereign that the StarSeers are here for an audience.” Tara’s voice left nothing of her authority to the imagination.

“M’lady,” the steward stuttered.

“Do you oft keep important guests waiting, sir?”

A gulp escaped the steward. “I beg you. One moment.” He opened the door, slipped in, and closed it behind him, but not before they heard the shouts of the sovereign. Words most unroyal uttered from King Rian’s mouth.

A moment later, the steward, face red, exited the room. “His Majesty shall see you now, m’lady.”

Tara inclined her head, and the two sauntered into the room.

“Lady Tara, First StarSeer!” The sovereign’s voice had turned from roar to purr. “How marvelous to see you. ’Tis been years. Since?—”

“Since before the war, Your Majesty.”

“Aye.” King Rian gritted his teeth, eyeing Chancellor Griffith and two other councilors, who stood in the corner. “Aye. Before the war. I must say, one StarSeer coming to Asalle is most unusual. Two is extraordinary.”

Tara gave a close-lipped smile and curtsied. “And we are honored by your gracious hospitality. StarSeers do not oft travel, so ’tis extraordinary circumstances, indeed, that we are here.”

Silence sat in the room.

“Might we have a word in private, Your Majesty?” Tara did not so much as glance at the other men.

“Straight to it, then.” The sovereign sat in his chair. “Anything you have to say, you may speak in front of my trusted council.”

Tara gave them a sideways glance as if noticing some distasteful sculpture. “’Twould be better to speak to Your Majesty alone, as the bond is between sovereign and StarSeers alone, but as you say.”

King Rian gestured his hand, and Elanna and Tara sat.

“Your Majesty, where is your son?” Tara asked.

The sovereign inhaled, and Elanna wondered how long his temper would be intact. “He is within.”

“Ah, so you are not, in essence, holding the heir to the throne, your only son, in his rooms against his will.”

“What His Majesty chooses to do or not do is not your concern, m’lady,” one of the council members, a balding man wearing thick glasses, said.

“That will be all, Roger,” King Rian said.

“Your Majesty, Lady Elanna came to you with her concerns about Prince Dashiell and his marriage. The fate of the realm rests upon his shoulders,” Tara said.

Elanna kept her face emotionless. Though they may currently be at odds, Tara the First’s presence was a relief.

When no one in the room gave a retort, Tara continued, “King Rian, we are here to aid you. Prince Dashiell must marry a maiden of Grenden. That is the only edict in question at present. Let him marry the maiden of his choice.”

“Never!” King Rian stood, as he shouted the word.

“We have Seen doom if he does not marry.”

“And so he shall marry. Lady Wenonah. A suitable maiden of nobility, whom, I might add, has already been declared as his bride. She’s traveling to Asalle at this very moment! Tell me, what do you think would happen if the prince were to marry a commoner?”

“ I was a commoner,” Elanna dared respond.

King Rian descended the three stairs of the dais and went to the table that held a bottle of mead.

He poured himself a goblet. “‘Tis different. My son, my only son, as you say, shall not marry this nobody. The people of the realm would not accept it. ’Tis ne’er been done.

He’d be a laughingstock. Not to mention, this whole affair has carried on in secrecy.

My son is acting the fool. We know naught about her, who she is, what her real intentions are?—”

“’Tis simple enough. Have her introduced at court!”

“Are you mad?” Rian paused. “Nay, my people— your people—need a noble maiden—one whom I have vetted—as their future queen.”

“Simply because something has been tradition for centuries doesn’t mean ’tis the best way,” Tara said.

King Rian shook his head and swallowed a drink. “There are already rumors of skirmishes. I must see this through.”

“What do you mean ‘skirmishes,’ Your Majesty?” Tara paled. “In addition to the affray on the Greenwood-Anscom border?”

“Rumors have escaped the castle,” Griffith muttered. “That the prince is getting cold feet, as they say, about marrying Lady Wenonah. A few province scuffles, Your Majesty. Naught to worry about.” Chancellor Griffith flicked a hard look at the two StarSeers.

“All the more reason to allow Prince Dashiell to wed his bride of choice and secure the succession. Grenden will be pleased and Lenfore can have no reason to dispute.” Tara stood.

“I implore Your Majesty, trust us, as you and everyone in your House have always done. Trust that we have Seen the best for the House of Sidra and Capella Realm.”

Elanna closed her eyes and willed the sovereign to soften his heart.

“You cannot consider this, Your Majesty,” Roger said.

“For the good of the realm,” Chancellor Griffith followed.

Stars.

“’Tis most regrettable that you felt you should travel all this way to Asalle, Lady Tara, but I cannot allow it. Prince Dashiell shall never marry this woman. Never.”

Tara turned the Edan Stone over and over in her palm. She’d inspected it earlier, and Elanna wasn’t certain what the first StarSeer hoped to discover this time.

Elanna’s skin tingled in anticipation. ’Twas dusk, and they knelt in the garden, waiting for the evening star to appear.

Last night, the stars had been silent; tonight, would have much to say.

From the tautness she felt coming from the cord of starlight shared between them, Elanna knew that Tara sensed it, too.

Earlier, Elanna had tugged on the Five’s cord to give comfort to Kyrie and Casta.

Her soul smoothed over it as if in an invisible hug for Maristel.

She had not felt anything from them in return.

Odd. But restoring it to its proper place in the center of her being had brought solace.

She ached to be close to her sisters. The proximity to Tara had been an unexpected renewal in the strength she had not realized was waning, even with the tension between them.

“You feel it, too.” Tara placed the Edan Stone on the grass between them. “Doom. Disaster. ”

“Mayhap King Rian will relent,” Elanna offered in hope.

Tara said naught in return, but Elanna wasn’t green in her role. The hairs on her arms standing on end said otherwise.

“That stone is, in part, why Sir Tolvar was brought to this path,” Elanna said.

“He is the keeper of the word,” they finished together.

At that moment, the evening star glinted, visible in the purple sky.

“Let us find out exactly what that means.” Tara outstretched her hands, one palm up, one palm down.

Elanna flattened her palms into Tara’s and immediately, the two fed their starlight into one another.

The radiating sensation was as if the cord of starlight wrapped itself around their connected hands.

When it was as if the cord had bound itself fully, their fingers pressed into each other’s wrists, and the two gazed up in sync and found the evening star. It winked.

Daughters of Light. The voice of the evening star overhead painted itself in a rich depth of radiance.

They inclined their heads and waited for more.

Two paths, one clear, one full of dread

One keeping balance, the other swathed in dead

Cracks widen, frays, too

Soon shall turn to great warring anew

To protect the Heart, to escape utter doom

It must be hid in the shadow of the moon

Elanna did not glance at the Edan Stone, not while the stars poured prophecy down upon them, but a tremor fluttered through her.

Allies are scarce, belief will turn dim

The Curse grows stronger, farther, and grim

Fates shall fade, chances become blurred

There is one hope, the keeper of the word

The words ceased. Elanna held her eyes on the singular star.

Flashes of the future spun before her eyes, sped as though she Saw the next moons—nay, the next years—nay, the next centuries—in a timeless blink of the eye.

It raced, so unlike the vision she Saw on the Dasei Moors that’d dragged doom before her like a drawn-out gash.

The warmth between their palms heightened until ’twas as if the two held fire between them.

Elanna wriggled her fingers but did not withdraw from Tara. Everything she Saw was in a moment’s flash. She knew that in the recesses of her mind. But to pull so many centuries into a kernel of time scorched.

When the vision stopped, Tara wrenched her hands away from Elanna, and the blaze on her palms cooled. Elanna almost lifted her hands to her mouth to blow on them, but of course, the heat was internal.

Tara heaved. Elanna did the same, closing her eyes and leaning on her elbows in the grass, its cool blades a reprieve.

The highlights of the vision, the roles that Elanna and her four sisters were meant to play, darted here and there through her.

The cord of starlight in the well of her being tethered itself to the visions. To the pieces she had to remember.

When she was confident the gift of the evening star’s fortune was secure within her, a half-smile caught her lips.

Tara lay in the grass, her breath still giant gasps of air, her eyes still closed.

Under her eyelids, Tara’s eyes traveled back and forth as if reading a text at the speed of light.

She was unmistakably more fatigued from this vision than Elanna.

Was that due to Elanna already Seeing some of these events before?

Elanna hesitated before placing her hand on Tara’s shoulder, but they were sister StarSeers first and foremost. The first StarSeer’s eyes peered open at Elanna’s touch. A spark of starlight was set in her pupil. Elanna imagined her eyes must appear the same.

At first, Tara’s whispers were inarticulate. But soon, Elanna plucked out phrases like, “the witch is not who we think,” “so many meaningless deaths,” “the word ,” and “why could we not See Ashwin?” A whimper escaped before Tara said, “The Falling Leaves Moon.”

Elanna took the first StarSeer’s hand. Tara faltered as if she’d completely forgotten her sister sat beside her .

“’Tis as I feared. And yet you Saw the Wolf’s role?” Tara whispered.

“Aye. I Saw two differences in tonight’s vision from the one I Saw when I left Ashwin. Differences that shall save Asalle if it comes to it.”

Tara collected herself enough to sit. “I did See one of the matters you speak of. Shroud Magic. Oh, holy stars. They cannot mean for us to perform that. We’ve not gloves. Only Kyrie has them.”

“ She will have them,” Elanna said, raising an eyebrow. She did not refer to Kyrie.

If Tara was not the first StarSeer, she might ask Elanna how she knew gloves would be provided, but instead, she said, “That is comforting and disconcerting all at once. The stars have been preparing us for this path.”

“And what of the effects it shall have on us?” Elanna dared not think of what she’d read about StarSeers using Shroud Magic.

“Let us hope that it is still a last resort. Mayhap King Rian will, as you said, relent.”

Elanna yearned to believe her own words. But stars, Seeing Shroud Magic was something entirely different and unexpected. Only one thought gave her any solace, and that was what she’d Seen of Tolvar. The cautions of Shroud Magic in question or not, the Wolf would be counted on.

“And now we know what ‘keeper of the word’ means.”