Page 6

6

NERYS

I’d said too much.

How often had speaking first and thinking second gotten me into difficult situations? After all of these years, I should have known better.

When I made to stand, a hand suddenly appeared atop mine on the table.

His touch was unlike any other.

Rowan’s hand was meant only to calm me. To reassure me, perhaps, that I had not spoken out of turn even though I most certainly had. Either way, my shortcomings suddenly mattered very little against the shock of his hand on mine. Rowan hadn’t moved it. Nor did I want him to. I’d been touched many times over the years, but this was different.

It wasn’t his hand, I realized, that made the difference. It was the way Rowan looked at me while he held it there, as if I were something more than ordinary. The temperature was as moderate here as all of Thalassaria, and yet a flush began to creep from my chest upward. I breathed deeply, in and out, willing it away.

He removed his hand.

“I do not easily trust others,” he said. “And can understand your hesitancy. But I assure you, Nerys, we are on the same side in this.”

I relaxed a bit. He was a human, after all, and not some Thalassarian politician who would run straight to the queen with whispers of my disloyalty. Not that it was disloyal to have a different opinion about how our clan would best thrive into the future. But I was fairly certain Queen Lirael would disagree.

“Why do you believe she will not give it?”

Instead of dropping the mist and ending our conversation, I reached for the glass of wine and, seeing it empty, refilled it.

“I do not know precisely. Since the Gate’s closing, her views have changed. She has become more guarded than ever. The queen has always valued Thalassarian independence, as we all have, but there was a shift that saw her policies become more inward-facing than ever. She is not King Balthor, openly despising humans and advocating for their downfall, but neither do her beliefs align with the Aetherian king either.”

His expression revealed nothing.

“Perhaps the return of Princess Mevlida will convince her. I’ve not found your queen’s policies to be openly hostile to Estmere, as you’ve said.”

Rowan refilled his wine as well. Sitting back, he appeared more relaxed than before. He was a knight, as the humans called it, but there was something more to him as well.

“You know more of me than I do of you,” I pointed out to him. “Tell me of your upbringing in Estmere.”

He hesitated. “Both of my parents were born in Elydor, as were their parents before them. We are a noble family, from the northern reaches of Estmere in a region called Calamoor.”

“I’ve not heard of it before.”

“My people keep to themselves, the dense forests and fortified towns in Calamoor lending to an independent nature your Thalassarians would be proud of. Or at least, some of them,” he qualified, a twinkle in his eyes.

He smiled often, this human. There was a hint of mischief about him that I could not place. The warmth threatened to return if I did not control my body’s response to his every movement.

“I do value independence,” I said, realizing the silencing mist still lingered. With a wave of my hand, I moved the moisture in the air back to the fountain in the corner of my chamber. “But not at the expense of alliances and free trade.”

Rowan’s eyes narrowed. “That is an advanced skill, is it not?”

“You know more than most humans of our ways?” I said, not meaning for the question to sound like an accusation. It was a fact, though, that the majority of humans knew little about the inner workings of my clan.

“Not as much as I would like.”

I waited, but he offered no further explanation.

“It is an advanced skill,” I said finally. “Though not among Stormcallers. During the Rite, it is one of the first we are expected to perform.”

“The Stormcaller’s Rite,” he said, taking a sip of wine. “Now that is a tradition shrouded in mystery. I know only that it is held twice each year, but not much else.”

“I’ve never understood the desire for such secrecy around many of our customs. All of Elydor knows of the Gyorian Rite of Stone and Soil and The Trial of the Tempest in Aetheria. Why we should conceal our own makes little sense to me.”

“Is it true outsiders do not attend your Festival of the Tides?”

“Not precisely. Just last summer, King Galfrid attended our festival, as Lirael attended his the year before.”

“Another is imminent, is it not?”

“Indeed, it is,” I said.

“Will there be a challenger?”

For a moment, I thought he could see through me. With luck, Rowan was not reading my emotions now. “No. There has not been one for many years.”

Each clan’s festival began the same way: as an opportunity for the current leader to be challenged to a feat of ability – wielding air, land or water—in order to determine if there should be a new king or queen. When Elydor was united, before the separate clans emerged, the leader was chosen based on unmatched power. They ruled until their death or until someone more powerful was revealed to take their place. All three clans continued that tradition.

“These days,” I said, “the Festival of Tides has been solely a celebration of the Thalassarian’s harmony with the sea and, if there are candidates, the Stormcaller’s Rite.”

He was too shrewd. If I said more, he might guess what I wasn’t sharing. There was more to Rowan of Estmere than he had revealed thus far and switching topics was in my best interest. “Why has the Aetherian king chosen you, a human, for this mission?”

“As I’ve mentioned, I traveled with her to be reunited with the king. Mev is my friend.”

That explained it. At least, in part. “How did you come to travel with her? What is she like? Is it true she was kidnapped by Prince Kael?”

“It is. Princess Mevlida is… insatiably curious about our world. She is determined, and quick-thinking. And quite beautiful.”

“You like her.”

“Very much.” He cocked his head to the side as if attempting to understand my question more completely. “But not in that way.”

I raised my brows, uncertain if I believed him.

“You know already the princess was taken by Kael of Gyoria. But it seems the rest of that story has not yet reached the shores of Thalassaria yet.”

“The rest of that story?”

Rowan’s slow smile made my insides feel as if a school of fish had stirred beneath my ribs.

“They are partnered.”

My wine glass nearly slipped from my fingers. Surely not. “Prince Kael, of Gyoria? And King Galfrid’s daughter?”

By way of a response, he continued to grin.

“He hates humans. And Aetherians.”

“But loves Mev very much. She has changed his thinking on both, although I never truly believed that Prince Kael inherited the same vitriol for humans, or Aetherians, from his father. You’ll remember his inheritance was stripped for attempting to save a human’s life.”

“An inheritance of title and land. The only inheritance that truly matters is not Balthor’s to offer.”

“Which poses an interesting conundrum, now that Kael has pledged his loyalty to Mev and her father, if he ever proves to be more skilled than his father…”

Rowan let the question go unasked.

“History tells us the sons or daughters of kings and queens often do inherit their parents’ powers,” I said.

“Indeed.”

“If Prince Kael ever proved more powerful than his father.” I took a sip of wine. “I cannot imagine what might happen then.”

“Perhaps it will not matter. They say Prince Terran is more skilled than his brother.”

“Do you believe it to be true?”

Rowan sighed, appearing to think on my question. “I do not know, even though I’ve seen them battle.”

I sat up straighter. “You have?”

“We intercepted Prince Terran on the way to Aetheria. Mev had already fled north with Lyra.” He paused. “Whom I believe you know?”

“I served on the Council for a short time,” I said, but it seemed Rowan knew as much already. “So aye, I know Lyra well.”

“She traveled with Kael and Mev, later taking the princess safely to her father while Kael prevented Terran and his men from following them.”

“Men? Prince Kael is powerful, but not more so than his brother, especially if he was accompanied by Gyorian warriors.”

“No,” Rowan agreed. “He is not, but he convinced his brother to return to Gyoria.”

“Rumor told us that the princess had been taken by Prince Kael, who later returned her to King Galfrid. I had no notion of the extent of their bond. That will certainly complicate matters for King Balthor.”

“It certainly will.”

Rowan had revealed more than I expected, but there was much he held back as well. I did not need to have the power to read emotion to tell as much. Though I did wish for the power to control my own emotions a bit better. I would endeavor to avoid looking directly into his eyes, which drew me into their depths with every glance.

“You cannot tell me why you are here on King Galfrid’s behalf? Or how Queen Lirael might aid him in reopening the Gate?”

He looked directly at me. So much for avoiding his gaze.

“No, I cannot.”

“Why?”

The question seemed to surprise him. Rowan placed his wine glass on the table and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. He was a handsome man, this human. But a mysterious one, too.

“Some truths are dangerous,” he said finally.

I knew it well.

Better than he could possibly imagine.