“Oh, Anc, I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
He didn’t say not to use the nickname. Her heart leapt.
“Every day I prayed you would come back to me, but you never did.” He stood.
Feet leaden and rooted to the rug and floor beneath, she stuttered, “I–I thought about returning. I wanted to, so many times, but I–I couldn’t.”
“You mean, you wouldn’t.”
She squeezed her eyes tight against the tears trickling down her face. “Because of what I found out then, my heart wouldn’t let me. If I had returned, I would’ve tried to kill your parents, destroy the council.”
Ancel’s eyes shot open. “Why?”
She told him, recounting when she first discovered her ability to tame animals, then being sent off to the Iluminus. Once there, she’d hear the whispers among the Ashishin concerning her family. A look of puzzlement stole across Ancel’ face.
“You can speak to animals? You mean like Charra?”
“No, I tried with him once, but he rejected my control.”
“Control,” he repeated, brow puckering even harder. “You can control them also?”
“Well, yes and no. It’s more like suggestions. As if I’m their leader and they follow where I say.”
Expression thoughtful, he grunted.
She continued with her story, telling him how she discovered the records of the part the council and his parents played before the Shadowbearer War. How Ancel’s father had begun the culling by slaying one of her ancestors, Garrick Nagel. She laid out the Dorns’ orders for her parents’ execution so many centuries later. Then she relayed Galiana’s version of the events. When she finished she realized she now sat in a chair not far from him, wringing her hands, tears streaming down her face.
Ancel strode across the rugs until he loomed over her. Reaching down, he took her hand. She didn’t resist. When their fingers met, a tingling sensation swept through her. His hands were rough, calluses dotting his palms. With their fingers entwined, he pulled her gently to her feet. When he hugged her, she lost all sense of being. She floated in some nameless void where only pleasure existed.
“You’re right. I wouldn’t have believed you. All this happened for a reason.” His voice was a tender buzz against her ear. “But I don’t believe what you read in the Iluminus. My father had his reasons. I trust him.”
His heart thumped in tune with hers. Irmina buried her face in his neck, inhaling deeply. The scent of whatever he used to shave was strong and pleasant.
“I gave up everything after you left,” Ancel whispered. “I no longer trained or studied in earnest. Those dreams I had of Jenoah and the Mater coursing through the cities haunted me from time to time, even in my waking hours, and often at the Mystera. In order to forget you, I turned to bedding any woman I could.”
Irmina stiffened at his confession. “So does that explain Kachien?” She cleared her throat.
“In ways, yes, and no.” Ancel sighed.
Her heart faltered.
“I care for her. She helped me forget you, despite what she is. I needed someone to listen to me, someone to talk to, someone who could relate to my pain … she was there. She also saved my life.”
“Looking a bit like me didn’t hurt either,” Irmina said, purely out of spite, almost wanting to bite the words back.
“That made it easier. I imagined she was you on many nights. At times, I still do, like when she danced the Temtesa.”
Those words stung but set her spirits soaring. Now she understood why he’d left the way he did, the pain on his face. She leaned away from him looking deep into his eyes. “I’m here now.”
He kissed her, and she grabbed hard to hope. Breathless, she still had her eyes closed when he eased her away. She opened her eyes.
“Dance for me, Mina.”
All her doubts disappeared.
Chapter 20
Accompanied by Charra the next morning, Ancel made his way to Old Javed’s stable a new man. The air was fresh and crisp, a testament to new beginnings. He smiled wider than he remembered doing in a long while as he thought about the night with Irmina. The lovemaking had been like old times but better. To Irmina’s delight, he’d used every trick and position Kachien taught him. The thought of Kach brought him down a notch, but he shrugged it off. Eventually, he would explain it all to her. Of all people, she would understand.
Not many people graced the streets this early dawn. Sunlight set fire to the Kelvore’s snowy peaks and lit the few wispy clouds scudding across the sky in flame-colored hues. More soldiers than usual were patrolling, but he wasn’t overly concerned about their presence. With his current mood, the cold wind blowing didn’t warrant drawing his cloak around him. The breeze swirled back and forth like lovers chasing each other. In Whitewater Falls, snow squalls often followed days like this.
At the stables, Ryne was practicing. The giant danced so quickly from Stance to Style Ancel found his movements difficult to track, although he did manage to pick out a few repetitions from the Forms and the Streams. With each change, Ryne’s Etchings shifted.
Dressed as usual in his leathers, Ryne’s face was now clean-shaven, his hair tied by a leather cord and only reaching his nape. A couple early risers stood close by, whispering amongst themselves as Ryne worked through a series of attacks, easing from top to middle to almost touching the ground before deftly stepping to one side and unleashing a strike that would behead a man with ease.
When he finished, Ryne faced Ancel and sheathed his greatsword in the scabbard angled crossways at his hip. No sweaty sheen marred his features. “Ready?”
“Yes.” A slight tingle coursed through Ancel’s body at the thought of their expedition. No one had gone out to the winery since his mother’s taking.
One of Old Man Javed’s stable boys arrived with a black-coated gelding. Ancel frowned at who followed on a chestnut mare. Behind the boy, Mirza rode in a full set of leather armor and furs to match Ancel’s own, his bow slung across his back. In one hand, he carried an ebonsteel spear.
“What’re you doing here?” Ancel asked.
“Going with you.” Mirza shrugged. “You didn’t think you’d make the trip up there alone did you?”
“I’m not alone.” Ancel gestured to Ryne before tilting his head to one side and frowning. “How did you know I was going to the winery anyway?”
“I didn’t, but I’m glad you told me. Such a good friend you are.”
Ancel groaned.
“It was obvious you were going somewhere though. Since Shin Irmina and this one arrived,” Mirza nodded to Ryne, “they’re all anyone’s been muttering about. I didn’t get a chance to talk to you yesterday after you ran off like a school girl,” Mirza grinned mischievously, “ but I returned in time to see Charra outside the Whitewater. Rolt told me you were upstairs speaking to Irmina. I take it the conversation went well and you had a lot to say. After all, you talked all night.”
Ancel couldn’t help but blush. “Let’s just say we made up.”
“Bet you did.” Mirza winked. “If you get any redder or grin any wider, you’ll split your cheeks.”
Ryne’s brief chuckle made them both glance to him. “I’m glad you’ve spoken to her.”
“Not you too.” Ancel rolled his eyes.
“I don’t know whether to be happy for you or sad,” Mirza said.
Ancel expected this but said nothing.
“I remember what you were like when she left is all I’m saying. If she leaves again, it’ll be worse. Plus, Kachien spent the night outside the inn, sitting with Charra.”
“She did?”
“Yes. I did.”
Ancel whirled around. Wrapped in the folds of her dark cloak, Kachien sat on the stable’s sloping roof below the eaves.
“I–I can explain, Kach,” Ancel began.
“Explain what? There is nothing to explain. I expected nothing less. I told you before … your ways here are strange to me. A long lost love’s return is something to rejoice. Many among the Alzari often take multiple lovers until they join someone as one. We were never joined.” Mirza coughed and she paused. “Not that I wanted such a thing. My life does not allow for it.”