Far, far back in the recesses of her mind, Ellie crouched—afraid, and alone in the total darkness of the prison that Taeben had been creating there. All those weeks when he was but a low hum in her mind, Taeben built this prison to keep her until he had the magic of the orb and could reunite his mind with his own body. His body would merge with her heart, her lungs, her soul, and her being. She knew that when that happened, she would cease to be, and he would just be Taeben again. She sniffled and then set out to see if she could reach his mind—or anyone’s for that matter -from her prison. Perhaps she could plant memories there or—even better—destroy him from within before he could again be released upon the world. “I am so sorry,” she whispered into the darkness. “I had no idea what he truly was, but now that I know, I will do my best to stop him.”
Twenty-Eight
Of Orbs and Hospitality in La’al Drygyr
Sath woke and sat straight up, thrusting his arms out in front of him to see if his fur had grown back or not. It had not. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Gin stirred, and he looked down at her—how many more mornings would he have like this? What if it WAS permanent? What would happen if the Rajah of Qatu’anari returned, half his regular height and bald as an elf?
“Good morning, Sath. I would say stop staring at me, but I think that’s a lost cause.” She smiled up at him for a moment and then remembered where they were. “The orb!” Before he could stop her, she leaped out of bed and grabbed her haversack. She and Sath could both feel the pulsing energy of the orb before she lifted the flap to look. “Whew.”
“What did you think would have happened to it?” Sath cocked his head to one side as he watched her secure the straps on the haversack.
“I don’t know—the temptation for Omerith has to be very strong. I know if I had a magical object that would bring back those I loved—I mean, Taanyth was his father.”
“Taanyth was insane, Gin. Omerith knew that. It’s part of why he formed the Guardians, remember?” Sath reached out a hand to her, and she took it, climbing back into the bed and snuggling up next to him. “Your longing for your parents is not the same thing at all. I don’t think he was tempted as much as you think.”
“So, what do we do now?” Gin pulled the covers up around her for a moment as she thought. “He didn’t know what to do with it, and he was right—three Guardians are not enough to take the power of the Mother Dragon, even if one of them is her son. We don’t even have the power of surprise on our side, like with Ikara.”
“So maybe we just leave it with him, then.” Sath twirled a stray bit of Gin’s hair in his fingers until she batted his hand away. “I think that’s the safest bet, don’t you?”
“He doesn’t want it, Sath. And if his mother asks for it?”
“He won’t give it to her.”
Gin sighed loudly. “I hope you’re right.” She slid out of bed and wandered around the bedchamber until she discovered a door in one of the walls, and she pulled on the steel loop that served as a doorknob. Inside, there was a smaller room with a basin and a tub. Gin smiled over her shoulder at Sath. “A bath that isn’t in a lake. Lovely. Join me?”
Sath scowled at her, but his expression soon melted into a grin. “I suppose it might not be too bad, go ahead and draw it, I will be there in a moment.” She chuckled and then shut the door behind her, leaving him in the room alone.
Sath got out of the bed, and as soon as he heard her drawing water from the basin to fill the tub, he picked up her haversack. He hadn’t thought about the orb bringing anyone back from the dead. His parents? Kazhmere? Or, if he cast his memory even further back, Raedea. It would be fantastic for her to see how far he’d come—to find out that she was right after all, that there was a male of worth inside him. Sath looked down into his lap, surprised to see the orb in his hand—he didn’t remember taking it out of the bag! He peered into its depths but could see nothing other than the swirling inky blackness that had been there from the beginning.
Sath, you’ve done all that I knew you could do. I’m so proud of you.
He froze in place, staring into the orb. It wasn’t Gin’s voice in his mind, nor was it the Mother Dragon or Gin’s All-Mother, Sephine.
It’s me, Sath. Rae. I miss you so much, my friend, but I’m happy that you’ve fulfilled your destiny. If only I could meet your Gin—the one my brother was so obsessed with—the one who killed my brother in cold blood.
Wait, Rae, if that really is you—you know why Gin killed your brother.
Because she was ready to move on to her next conquest, I suppose? You, or that wizard? Oh, but he is dead too, isn’t he? My goodness, death really does follow her around, doesn’t it? You should be careful, Qatu, or you’ll be next.
It is not like that AT ALL. Sath growled low in his throat, and as the orb’s pulsing grew faster, it’s swirling began to coalesce into a cyclone inside the glass sphere. It was hot against his palm, but he did not feel that he could put it down—it was a part of his hand, embedded in his skin.
It is, and because I adore you, my friend, I have been
