She almost groaned but suppressed it. There was something she really didn’t want to deal with right now. Instead, she cleared her throat.
“Is there any word of Shan?”
Leithen dropped his gaze from hers, hiding whatever he knew. “There’s been no change, my lady. There’s a— I don’t even know what to call it. A ball, like smoked glass, with lights swarming all over the surface. It’s still there, down in the mausoleum. Nothing has gone in, nothing has come out. Five Holtguards and five Shistra-Phail man it at all times and I check their reports myself.”
Jeren swallowed hard and nodded. “Keep me informed. Is Doria coming with the Ariah?”
A smile spread over his face, slightly foolish, soft and gentle. “Yes, Lady Jeren.”
Was this what she would face from now on? Gods, she couldn’t deal with that. “Just Jeren, Leithen. You know that.”
“Yes, Lad— Jeren.” Again she saw that smile. For her this time. The relief was palpable.
“Good. Right, well—” First things first. “Send for Vertigern and Elayne, together mind. As soon as Doria arrives, I want to see her too. And the Ariah, of course. Tell her it would be my honour.” She sighed, and her head throbbed with the enormity of it all. Those voices, they were still there, whispering in her ear, tormenting her with half-heard words. There was so much to do. “And have the council gather in the Great Hall. I’ll see them next—”
“Lady Jeren!” Ilydona interrupted. “You must at least dress for the occasion.”
Her life from now on, she reminded herself. But she didn’t have to take it lightly. “Very well. Something simple, elegant and if it has fur of any kind— Naul! Where’s Naul?”
The wolf-cub had been there in the mausoleum. Where was he now? What had happened to him?
“Still in the chamber,” said Leithen. “Like he’s waiting.”
Everything stilled. Jeren’s heart beat too loudly, pulsing in her head as if it might explode. “Waiting for Shan?”
“I-I don’t know, my— Jeren.”
“My lady, I must insist—” Ilydona came back carrying a soft grey gown and slippers. Jeren grabbed them without even looking at them and tugged them on, ignoring the fine stitching and delicate ties.
“I need to go down there. I need to see for myself.” She was still trying to fasten the side as she stormed from the room with both of them hurrying behind her.
But she didn’t get far. She hadn’t made the stairs when she nearly collided with Vertigern and Elayne.
“Jeren!” Vertigern almost fell to his knees and she steeled herself for another bout of apologies and self-recrimination. But they didn’t come. “You have to help me. Please, she won’t listen. Talk to her. Tell her that no harm will come to her.”
“Harm come to— What are you talking about?”
“Alyssa,” said Elayne. “She thinks—she thinks you want her dead. Gilliad told her, while she carries his heir—”
Jeren swore so loudly and comprehensively that Ilydona gasped in shock and covered her mouth. “Where is she? Elayne, show me to her rooms.”
They rushed up the staircase, Vertigern still begging her to help his sister, even though that was clearly what she was intending to do. Elayne, silent and determined, was the rock at Jeren’s side.
I’ll need her. If I’m to get through any of this, I will need her help every step of the way. Not just this, not just Alyssa and Gilliad’s legacy. But all of it. I’ll need Elayne’s help because I can rely on her. Even if I can’t rely on anyone else.
She drew them up in her mind. Leithen, Doria, Elayne... and Vertigern as her contact with the other Holts, her ambassador, so long as they kept him on a short enough leash. With Elayne’s guidance, he might just do. The guilt over what had happened should ensure he never made such a mistake again. That and Elayne. Jeren knew she’d have to make him marry her, for he’d plead duty or some such nonsense. And she’d also have to force Grey Holt to concede on that somehow.
She’d find a way. She had to.
He was a minor lord in the world of the Holts. She, on the other hand, was the Lady of River Holt. She’d make them listen.
The door was locked from the inside.
“I’ll fetch the key,” said Elayne hurriedly.
Jeren reached out with her powers, flexing the magic like newly discovered muscles. Powerful. Strong. Her will, her power, her command.
There was so much magic in her now. It came as a surprise to realise that she could control it and it would not control her. And if it got out of hand, she could use the sword to bring it back to heel. That much power at her beck and call, all the time, not just her ability to heal, but so much more. The temptation to use it just to feel it sing through her veins was palpable.
“No need.” She didn’t pause, not for a second. The lock clicked open, because she willed it to do so.
Jeren opened the door and heard a frantic sob.
Alyssa stood by the window, the open window, her hands clutching her swollen belly, her face white with terror.
“Stay away from me! I won’t let you hurt my baby. I won’t let you take him.”
She staggered back, too close to the window, unbalanced and hysterical.
“Alyssa.” Jeren forced her voice to be calm, to be reasonable and quiet. “No one is going to hurt you.” She stretched out her hand, palm up, harmless.
“He told me what you’d do. He told me over and over. If you win, if you take River Holt, you’ll want any competition to your rule destroyed. So your own can—can rule after you.”
“If you kill yourself, if you throw yourself out that window, he wins.” Jeren tried to edge closer. “Please see that. I won’t hurt you or your child. I’ll give you my word. I’ll swear it on my blood. Don’t let him win, Alyssa.”
“He did… he did… such things—” Her eyes glassed over with memories of nightmare. Jeren knew the feeling, understood the horror. He’d tried to do the same to her. Had wanted to do so very much more. “He took me away from my home. And he had people hold me down, tie me up like an animal. And he—”
“He’s gone. He’s dead and gone.”
Not so dead as all that.
The voice in her head was a fly, but nothing more than that. A vague threat. She crushed it down making a mental note to wear the sword from now on.
“He’s dead. And he has no power anymore.”
His voice was gone, proof of that. Others whispered on, entities that lived inside her now, which she would have to deal with. But Felan was there too, and her father. Loving presences, strong and supportive. She had that. At least she had that.
And Shan, maybe? If he ever came out from that shell, if he was ever himself again. If Naul was waiting, so could she.
“You—you promise?” Alyssa whispered.
“Yes. Vertigern and Elayne will stay with you, to guard and guide you and your child.”
Alyssa relaxed suddenly, lowering herself to the ground, still hugging herself. Her tears were silent now.
“My son. He said it would be a son. But if you marry, if you have a child— What will become of him then?”
Jeren sank down to sit opposite her. “I have a husband, but I’ve lost him. And I’ll never have another. Or a child that River Holt would accept as its future ruler. Not if it was his. We can help each other, Alyssa. I promise. I need you too.”
Vertigern and Elayne approached gently, carefully. Traumatised by Gilliad, Alyssa was going to need help. They could give it to her.
Whereas Jeren could barely help herself anymore. She stood as they escorted the girl out of the room and Jeren looked around critically. Ilydona arrived with a host of servants and Jeren fixed her with a determined glare.