Destiny: Child of the Sky

48

Ashe struggled to breathe steadily, his wounds stinging his skin and lungs. It was not too much farther to the room in the abandoned cistern, and he prayed Rhapsody would remember this place as a meeting spot. He had sought her at the wedding hall and at the basilica in Bethany, but she was not there. Perhaps she had forgotten their arrangement to meet clandestinely at the wedding; it would be more than he could stand if she had.

The demon’s minions had been townspeople, blacksmiths and carters, not soldiers, an especially difficult group to fight, as he did not want to kill innocent civilians. Despite this, they had fought fiercely at the bridge over the Phon, as intent on crossing as he had been on holding it. He had prevailed, but at great cost.

He opened the door wearily and smiled. She was there, nestled in the old chair with the threadbare arms, still in her wedding finery. Her dress was the color of smoky amethysts, and it was bunched around her as she slept, her golden hair swept up in a swirl atop her head, just beginning to come down.

One of her slippers had fallen off and lay on the floor below her tiny bare foot. At her throat was a jeweled choker; a large amethyst, the same color as her dress, surrounded by tiny pearls, was held in place by three strings of the same milky-white jewels. In her lap rested a pair of earrings and two crumpled gloves.

He stood and stared at her for a moment, drinking in the sight of her, and was overwhelmed with longing and emptiness as he had not been since before she had come into his life.

And then the pain was gone as the realization finally caught up with him that she was really here, waiting for him. He hurried to her and lifted her carefully out of the chair, holding her tightly to his chest as his lips brushed her hair and face. He breathed in her scent, reveling in her sweetness, her softness, as she stirred in his arms and awoke, smiling.

“I missed you,” she said, her eyes beaming at him in the way that always touched his soul. “Did you get waylaid?”

He carried her to the bed and set her down. She could see that it cost him some effort where normally it did not.

“Ashe?” she said, concern sweeping over her face. “What’s the matter—are you hurt?”

“It’s nothing,” he said, sitting down beside her and taking her back into his arms. But her eyes darkened with worry and she ran her hands over his chest, looking for signs of injury. She gently pulled his shirt open and gasped in horror at the slash-wounds and bruises, now beginning to heal.

-

“What happened?” she asked in alarm, removing his shirt completely and pulling out of his embrace to examine him more closely.

“Rhapsody, please, don’t pull away,” he said, trying not to grimace. “I need to hold you—I’m all right. Just hold me in return—please.”

Carefully she wrapped her arms around him, trying not to touch the wounded places. “I hope you’re not going to make a habit of this,” she said, a humorous note in her voice. “I really do have better things to do than to be constantly fixing your sore chest.”

His answer was a long, deep sigh, and he rested his head on her shoulder, overwhelmingly glad to be back in her arms. She stroked his hair and began to hum a wordless tune that chased his headache away and made the throbbing irritation of his wounds recede. Her hands gently rubbed the muscles at the base of his neck and the top of his shoulders, bringing comfort and ease to his body and soul.

How much time passed he was not sure, but when he woke he was lying on the bed with his head in her lap and she was still singing softly to him, in words he understood only intermittently. He made a half-turn onto his back and looked up at her, smiling down at him, inverted above him, and noted that she was every bit as beautiful upside down as she was straight on. Her hair was now straining against its bonds and threatening to fall about her shoulders at any moment.

Never one to take a threat lightly, Ashe reached up and carefully pulled the jeweled clip from the back of her head, smiling as the long waves of golden silk tumbled from above her neck and down her front to below her waist. He blinked in astonishment; the move to unbind her hair had been both pain-free and effortless, as though his injuries had never happened. In addition, the exquisite locks he was so fond of and had been so intimately acquainted with were vastly longer than they had been only a few months before, when last he had seen her. Had she been standing, they would have brushed the back of her knees.

“What’s this?” he asked, holding a long strand in his hand, puzzled. “I believe in your language it is generally called ‘hair,’ ” Rhapsody replied, mischief in her eyes. “Do you need any additional information, like where you are, what year this is; your true name perhaps? I can answer the first two questions, but I don’t have enough time to get into the third; it’s longer by itself than most twelve-verse folktales.”

Ashe sat up and faced her, his dragon senses wandering over her. He could feel the remnant of pain in her torso, like a series of wounds that were almost healed. He took hold of her bodice in a panic and pulled it down, shock crossing his face as he saw his own injuries mirrored on her body, faded to a pale pink as though they were just about to disappear.

“Gods, Rhapsody! What have you done?” he demanded, his voice choked with panic. Rhapsody glared at him and pushed his hands away, pulling the stiff taffeta back over her camisole.

“Excuse me,” she said, annoyance in her tone. “You could at least send flowers first. What kind of girl do you think I am?”

“A reckless one, at least,” he answered, touching the rim of the wound that peeked over her low neckline. “How did you do this?”

“It’s a new little trick I learned a while back,” she replied, slapping his fingers away again. “Keep your hands to yourself.”

“A new little trick? Empathetic healing?”

“Useful, isn’t it?”

“You’re insane,” he said, calming a little as he determined she was not seriously compromised by the technique. “You had no idea how those wounds were inflicted, or how serious they were.”

“No,” she admitted, rising from the bed and brushing out her skirt, her hair cascading down behind her. “But it didn’t matter. Do you feel better?”

Ashe stood and followed her, taking her by the shoulders and turning her to face him. He looked down at his wife, a wife who thought of him only as a past lover, and a wave of tenderness crested inside him. She was putting him first, as she always did, unselfishly and at her own expense. He bent to kiss her but she backed away and turned from him again, crossing to his chair and picking up her scattered belongings.

“I do now,” he said encouragingly, hoping to bring her back. “Gods, Rhapsody, the memory of you is marvelous, but it doesn’t do justice to the reality. What happened to your hair?”

“It grew,” she said simply, folding the gloves and putting the earrings on his bureau. “I’ll tell you about it later. How did you get hurt?”

“I ran into a group of Bethanian villagers, demonic thralls, on their way to the wedding, planning to ambush some of the guests, and thought it might be a good idea if they had a last-minute change of plans,” he answered, unconsciously rubbing his shoulder. “By sheer coincidence, the Phon River spilled over its banks, sinking them up to their waists in mud. I wish I had thought to use the power of Kirsdarke before they beat the stuffing out of me. I assume if their command was to disrupt the wedding that they will be released from the thrall of the F’dor now that it is over. By the way, how was the wedding?”

She was putting on her shoes, and his question made her excited; she swayed in the heels and almost toppled over, like a baby learning to walk.

“Oh, it was beautiful,” she said, her face glowing. “So many candles and such lovely music; and they looked so handsome, the bridal party. And the ballroom was filled with the most exquisite clothing I’ve ever seen in one place before. It was very different from any wedding I’ve been to. I’m sad that you weren’t there; I think you would have enjoyed it.”

“I’m certain I would have,” he said, watching the memory dance through her eyes and make them sparkle like sunlight on water.

“The wedding gown must have weighed an earthsweight; it had a train that was a league long, long enough to still be following her down the aisle of the basilica when she was already at the Altar of Fire. I have to admit, I would never want anything like that. I’ll bet her back hurts tomorrow.” She chuckled wickedly at her naughty subtext. “Anyway, I’m sorry you missed it. She really was the most beautiful bride you ever would have seen.”

-

Ashe smiled with her, feeling her joy innately. “No, I don’t think so,” he said tenderly, recalling her in another moment of which she had no memory. She went to the closet and pulled out a covered wicker basket. “Are you hungry? I thought you might like some supper.”

Ashe considered her question. “Yes,” he said, “I suppose I am.”

“Well, by all means, help yourself,” she said, pulling the cover off the basket and offering it to him. “There’s some cold ham and fruit, and a bottle of Achmed’s best vintage—no nasty comments, please; it’s actually not bad.”

“I would never be so ungrateful as to insult anything you brought me,” he answered, taking the basket from her and setting it on the small table in the corner. “How about you? What would you like?”

“Just wine and a little bread, please,” Rhapsody answered, settling in his worn chair again. “I ate an embarrassing amount at the wedding.”

“Now, that is something I would like to have seen.” He set about arranging their meal, handing her a glass of wine with a proper military bow. “How are you feeling? Are the wounds gone yet?”

Rhapsody peeked inside her bodice. “All gone.”

“Prove it,” Ashe said playfully.

She smiled at him but did not comply; instead, she took a deep draught of wine. He returned his attention to the basket, knowing the distance she was keeping was due to her belief that they had put an end to their relationship as lovers, and he silently cursed his father and grandmother once more for it.

“So, what made your hair grow so fast?” he asked, sitting on the bed with his plate of food.

Rhapsody took another sip, then lowered the goblet. “It didn’t grow fast, actually,” she said, her eyes darkening. “I’ll tell you about it, but it has to do with another matter I need to discuss with you. I don’t know if that will be a conversation that you will like, so if you want to have a few more moments’ peace, perhaps we should wait to talk about it. After we’re done, I have to be going. I am going for a walk with your father in the morning.”

Ashe’s stomach turned. “Tomorrow? You’re going with him tomorrow?”

“Yes,” she replied. “Llauron and I met up at the wedding. We’re taking a walk along the Cymrian Trail, the places that the First Fleet Cymrians stopped after they first landed. It should be interesting.”

Ashe’s appetite disappeared. “It’s too soon,” he said, putting his half-full plate back on the table. “You really are in no condition to go overland with Llauron now, Rhapsody. You just lost Jo a little while ago. You’re grieving, and you were seriously injured. You should spend some time in Elysian, healing.”

Rhapsody smiled as she ran her finger around the rim of her wineglass. A soft, ringing musical note sounded, and she sang along, matching it.wordlessly, sending it around the room like a servant doing her bidding. It dissipated after a moment, and she swallowed the rest of the wine, depositing the glass next to his.

“I have healed from that, Ashe,” she said gently, looking him in the eyes. “It’s been about seven years for me now since that time.”

“What are you saying?” Ashe asked, his face losing color. “Where have you been, Rhapsody?”

She rose and came to the bed, sitting down beside him. “I went to see the Lord and Lady Rowan,” she said, keeping contact with his gaze. “As you know, time passes there much differently from here; that’s why my hair is so long. While I was there I saw Jo—a few times, actually, and mostly when sleeping under the eye of the Lady. She’s happy now, Ashe, and she forgives me. I don’t feel pain about her anymore, though I do still miss her. I believe I’ll be with her again one day; the Lord Rowan promised me he would take me if he could.”

Ashe fought the urge to vomit. “You went to the Rowans, and you could find them? Gods, Aria, I had no idea you were so ill and in such pain about Jo. The Rowans don’t generally accept guests unless it’s a matter of life and death.”

“I know,” she said, breaking their locked gaze and looking away. “But I didn’t go there because of Jo, or for an illness of my own. I went for another reason. Before I tell you about it, though, do you still believe in me? I mean, do you trust that I would not lie to you?”

“Absolutely.”

“I’m glad,” she said, looking at him again. “Then please believe me when I tell you this situation is resolved, and everything is going to be fine.”

Ashe was beginning to tremble. “Rhapsody, you’re frightening me. What are you talking about? Just tell me, before my heart stops.”

Rhapsody took his hands, and a breath, and then began. “I have ten new grandchildren,” she said, her eyes glistening. “They are of all different races, and ages, including a Lirin child I delivered myself. Her mother died in childbirth.” She waited for him to absorb what she had said.

The look on Ashe’s face went from one of dread to one of relief. “Childbirth? The mother died, but the child lived? Like Manwyn’s prophecy?”

“Yes.”

Ashe felt himself begin to breathe regularly again. “I am very sorry to hear that,” he said, caressing her cheek absently.

“Don’t get comfortable, Ashe. This is not the bad part.”

“What, then?”

Rhapsody lowered her eyes. “These children all have the same father. They are all the children of the F’dor.”

Ashe listened, not comprehending. After a moment his understanding was no clearer. “That’s impossible. The prophecy said that the demon could not inhabit the body of someone who had borne or sired children, nor could it do so itself.”

Rhapsody sighed, then plunged ahead. “These are the children of rape, Ashe. The F’dor impregnated their mothers by proxy through the Rakshas. The Rakshas’s blood was his, and so its issue is his as well. It found a way to get around the prophecy.”

Ashe stared at her for a moment more. Rhapsody could feel a humming beginning; it was a vibration that frightened her, lodged within the fabric of the room and air around them, and she knew the dragon was coming forth.

-

She put her hands on his shoulders and tried to make him look into her eyes. “Listen to me, Gwydion ap Llauron,” she commanded, using her powers as a Namer. The humming stopped increasing but remained, hovering in the air as the color roared back into his face and his eyes began to glow. “This may seem awful now, but it is actually a very positive thing. The children have immortal souls, every one of them, because the Rakshas carried a bit of yours. If not for you they would have been demonic. But because of you, they have contributed to the destruction of the F’dor by having what is demonic separated from their blood, giving Achmed a tool to find the demon.”

Her words rang in his soul, at the very deepest, darkest part, that had one time been the power source that the icy form of the Rakshas had taken shape around. The memories of the incidents that generated this abomination flooded back, a series of assaults so brutal that at first they seemed as if they could only also be murders. Each atrocity flooded into his mind simultaneously, filling his head with screaming and the sound of his own insane laughter. Ashe felt the horror of it as if he were witnessing each of the acts again. He broke loose her grip on his hands and screamed himself, a roar like an earthquake issuing forth. Small items blew off the dresser and nightstand, and the basket flew off the table, spilling its contents across the room.

As the room began to shake beneath and around them, Rhapsody threw her arms around his neck and held on to him as tightly as she could. Waves of power and pain were visible now, swirling red and angry about them. She clung to him, fearing she would lose him in the vortex that was opening above them. He clawed at her, trying to shake her loose, but in his grief and fury he only succeeded in scratching her face.

Rhapsody looked over their heads into the spinning darkness and shivered. It was coming closer, threatening to swallow them together into oblivion. She tried to make contact with his eyes again.

“Gwydion! Gwydion ap Llauron, listen to me.” Her voice was calm and strong, made ringing by the ancient power of the music in her soul. “Let it go. Let it go.”

He looked into her eyes, the vertical slits of his pupils thin as a whisper. There was a moment that he would be held in thrall by his name, and then she would lose him to his anguish again. Rhapsody concentrated on maintaining the vibration, forcing him to listen a moment more.

“I love you,” she said, using the powers of true speaking. “I love you from my soul, Gwydion ap Llauron. I would not lie to you, and I tell you truly that, as much as this causes you pain, it is as it should be; good will come from this. Please, please believe me.”

Ashe did not break her gaze, but his face grew reptilian, and he began to shake from the core of his being. Rhapsody knew that the dragon was rampant, and furious, but what motivated it was beyond her understanding. She could feel him slipping from her, and she tightened her grip on him to try and stop it from happening.

It was a mistake. A bellowing shriek came forth from his mouth, open in fury, and with a strength she had never witnessed he pried her off him. He twisted away from her, turning violently, trying to pull away. The force of his attempted escape sent Rhapsody spinning across the room into the wall. She sailed through the air with a tremendous force and hit the wall hard with a sickening thud, crumpling to the floor. As she lost consciousness she cursed her stupidity, praying that he would not rampage and lay waste to the land.

The shock of her impact caused Ashe to stop for a moment, and as he witnessed what he had done, the uproar stopped. The dragon, now in control, grew alarmed to see its treasure lying limp on the floor, not responding. The human soul within him panicked and fought its way back to dominance, running to her and gathering her in his arms, shaking with fear.

The swirling power that had been rending the room a moment before shattered like a snowflake and shimmered to the ground around them as he laid her on the bed, his hands trembling in worry. He went to the pitcher on the bedside table and drew forth water which he splashed her face with, but there was no response.

He stayed beside her, growing more and more anxious, stroking her face and pleading with her to wake. Finally, after what seemed like hours, she groaned and winced.

“Rhapsody? Rhapsody, please say something. Please.”

One eye opened slightly and regarded him woozily.

“Is your temper tantrum over?” she asked, her face contorted with pain.

Ashe burst into tears that until now he had been too frightened to shed. He bent his head over her and wept, burying his face in her abdomen.

Rhapsody patted his head with a disoriented hand. “Ashe,” she said gently, but with effort. “Please stop it. I’m all right, and I understand—it’s not your fault. Besides, you’re making my headache worse and spotting my gown.”

“I’m sorry; gods, I’m so sorry—”

“Don’t,” she answered, her voice a little stronger. “Please don’t. It isn’t necessary. I knew it could happen—it was too much for you to take. I was prepared for it. But I expected you to lash out; I didn’t think you would knock me into the wall trying to keep from hurting me. A tactical error. It was my mistake for grabbing on just then.”

“Your mistake?” he asked incredulously. “How in the name of all—

“Ashe,” Rhapsody said, sounding annoyed. “Please, can we not have this conversation? For my sake. Please. I’m going to be fine in a moment. That’s why I had the wine. I expected this reaction. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me. Can we please drop it now? I don’t want our last few moments together to be spent like this. Here, help me up.”

Carefully he slid his hands around her waist, assisting her to stand and sensing the damage he had caused her. She was bruised but nothing was broken, and she had pain in her shoulder but no bleeding.

She limped to the chair and reached for the pitcher next to the bed, which he quickly got and gave to her. After splashing water on her face and drying it with the cloth he handed her, she sat down, reached out her hand to him, and pulled him over to her. He knelt on the floor in front of her to be on eye level with her, his face still twisted with anxiety.

-

“I’m really fine,” she assured him, patting the side of his face. “What I am trying to tell you is that the children are all fine, too. They are with Oelendra, and when the F’dor is dead I will go and retrieve them. They will be loved and cared for, a far better future than the one they faced before.”

“And their mothers? What happened to the women?”

Rhapsody took his head in her hands and kissed the top of it. “Their mothers are all at peace,” she said, trying not to upset him again but unwilling to lie to him. “Aria—that’s the baby—her mother got to hold her before she passed, and I know she left for the light happy.”

“You named her Aria?” His face softened, and she could see he was touched.

“Well, it’s such a beautiful thing to be called,” she said, smiling slightly. “It’s a wonderful old name that is lost to this world if no one uses it, and that would be a shame, don’t you think?”

Ashe’s eyes filled with tears again. “Yes. Yes, I do.”

“And if you’re wondering why I can forgive you for hurting me, you can find the answer in what you said a moment ago. You know I’m no willing victim, Ashe. You’ve tasted my anger and my fist before. But the reason you went raging on me was that you were overcome with the thought of the pain you witnessed, and you feel that you participated in, maybe even caused. I felt that pain too, even though, unlike you, I wasn’t there to see it. It was horrific to a level that could not be borne and remain sane.

“You are a good man, Ashe. You have nothing to make up for, because you didn’t do anything wrong. You were a victim too, in case you’ve forgotten. Yet you still feel responsible, even though you’re not. You will make a wonderful Lord Cymrian because you will be the first one with a conscience, and certainly the first one who is willing to listen to his heart. Remember that old Lirin saying? Ryle him. Life is what it is. We can only do the best we can to make it better; these children are part of the way to do that. So please, trust me. The situation is well in hand. Now, go. Be happy. Do what you need to do.”

He looked at her with an expression that broke her heart. “I don’t deserve you; I really don’t.”

She laughed. “I know, but you are stuck with me, my friend.” She rose slowly and walked to the dresser, gathered her belongings, and took her cloak from the peg by the door. From the closet she pulled a pair of boots and she put them on, tucking the satiny shoes into her pockets. She went to the door and began to open it, when he spoke.

“Rhapsody?”

She turned to see him one last time. “Yes?”

His voice was so low she could barely hear him. “Do you love me still? Even after all that time with the Rowans?”

She met his gaze, her eyes glimmering, shining like the depths of the sea.

“Always.”

He sighed, and a smile crept over his face again. “Then everything else will resolve itself.”

“It always does,” she answered simply. “Can you tell if it’s snowing? Maybe I should put on something warmer.”

He turned and went to the window, looking into the clear night sky studded with stars. “No, I don’t think it—”

When he turned to her again, she was gone. She had tried to spare him the pain of watching her go; in her last gesture, she was still thinking of him.

He closed his eyes and waited until the last subtle vibration of the closed door had died away. Then he looked out the window at the night sky again.

“Goodbye, Emily,” he said.