“Are you absolutely certain that Llauron isn’t the host of the F’dor himself?”
Ashe buried his lips in her golden hair and sighed. “One can never be absolutely certain of anything where the F’dor is concerned, Aria. I can’t believe that he is, however. Llauron is very powerful, and the F’dor can only possess someone it is stronger than. In addition, he hates it with every fiber of his being, has been hunting it for a very long time. He will do anything he has to—anything—to find it and destroy it, including compromising you. You may not believe this, but Llauron is very fond of you.” He chuckled as she rolled her eyes. “But that doesn’t matter, of course, I’m sorry to say. He’s rather fond of me, too, but that never stopped him from manipulating me, either.
“I’ve come to realize over time that your friendship with Achmed and Grunthor is the only thing that saved you from Llauron attempting to make you the agent of his plans long ago. When you first came to him, he knew Achmed and Grunthor were with you, but then they left for a while, and he felt you were free and clear of them. He began training you at the Circle in all the lore of the Filids. But then they came back and took you away with them. He has never really gotten over it, though he puts on a good face about it. I think you can trust that he would not do anything to harm you, but he will manipulate you in any way he can to get what he wants.”
Rhapsody sighed. “Is that all there is to this story? There’s nothing else, is there?”
“Gods, isn’t that enough?”
“More than enough,” she said, turning in his arms and managing a weak smile. “I just wanted to be sure.”
Ashe kissed her gently. “You said you had a request to make of me. What is it? Anything you ask, it’s yours. Just name it.”
Rhapsody winced. “After all that, it seems foolish.”
“Nonsense. Tell me what I can do for you. Please, Aria, give me something to do that will prove my love to you, something to begin to make up for all this deception. What was it you were going to ask of me?”
Rhapsody looked embarrassed. “I wanted to know if—if you would let me—keep this.” She touched his chest, indicating the white linen shirt he wore beneath his mariner’s cape.
“This shirt?”
“Yes.”
Ashe let go of her and began to remove his cape. “Of course. It’s yours.”
“No, wait,” Rhapsody said, laughing. “I don’t need it now. I’m not cold, but you will be if you take it off. I just want to keep it when you leave to morrow, if that would be all right.” She took his hand and led him down the gazebo steps, back into the house.
Ashe put his arm around her as they walked. “One of the many benefits of being your lover—your betrothed—is that I am never cold,” he said, smiling down at her. “You take very good care of that, Firelady.”
“Well, that wouldn’t be true if you didn’t have other shirts,” Rhapsody replied. “But as I have made a few new ones for you myself to take with you, I think you will be well covered.”
Ashe opened the front door for her, and watched as the coals on the hearth leapt to life in greeting as she entered. He followed her into the parlor.
“So why, if you are making me new ones, do you want this old thing? It’s really quite ratty at the cuffs—I hid them under the jacket.”
Rhapsody smiled at him. “It has your scent. I wanted it to wear when I’m alone, to remind me of you. I was going to ask you for it, even when I thought you were off to propose to someone else. Isn’t that wicked?” Tears of embarrassment glinted in her eyes.
Ashe laughed. “Oh, just awful.” He shook his head, amazed at how she constantly surprised him.
“It’s a selfish request, I know.”
Ashe stroked her hair, smiling. “Have you ever done anything selfish in your life, Rhapsody?”
“Of course; all the time. You know that.”
“Nothing specific leaps to mind,” Ashe said. “Can you perhaps name an example for me?”
Her face grew solemn. “Don’t joke about this, Ashe, please.”
Ashe took her hands. “I’m not; gods, I’m really not, Rhapsody. I really do doubt that you could name anything.”
Rhapsody looked into the fire and the tears that had been brimming in her eyes overflowed. When she turned to face him again her eyes were filled with a sorrow he hadn’t seen for a long time.
“I ran away from home,” she said softly, crossing her arms in front of her waist and holding her stomach as she did when she felt sick. “I turned my back on the people who loved me to follow a boy who didn’t. I never saw any of them again. I am alive today because of that selfish act, Ashe; alive, having left them to mourn me until the end of their days. I traded my life with my family for one night of meaningless sex in a pasture and a worthless copper coin.” She stopped when she saw his face go blank, and then turn white. “What’s the matter?”
“What was his name?” he asked, looking as if the world was about to come to its end.
“Who?”
“This boy,” he said, and he voice grew stronger, and more urgent. “What was his name?”
She looked ashamed. “I don’t even know. He lied.”
“What did you call him, then? Tell me, Aria.”
Rhapsody was beginning to panic; the look on his face was turning into something frightening, and she could feel the bristling electricity signaling the return of the dragon. The air in the grotto had grown unsettlingly still, like the calm before a gathering storm, or the extreme low tide before a tidal wave.
“Tell me,” he commanded in a voice she had never heard. It was anguished and deep, and filled with alien power. She started to back away, but he seized her shoulders in a grasp that hurt. “Tell me!”
“Sam,” she whispered, not understanding. “I called him Sam.”
His fingers dug into her arms and a roar that shook the house issued forth, full of fury. His face went red and she watched in horror as he seemed to increase in size, muscles uncoiling in rage.
“Unholy BITCH!” he screamed, as loose items in the room began to fall and tables shook. The cords in his neck stood out as his anger increased, and the air charged with power as seething fury took hold of him. The pupils in his eyes narrowed to almost nothing. “Whore! Rutting, miserable WHORE!”
His hands went to his head, and he began to clutch at his hair, digging his fingers into his scalp. As he released her Rhapsody backed slowly away from him, a look of heartbreak and fear written on her face. It has finally come, she thought ruefully. I was wrong. He is the F’dor, and he’s going to kill me now. She thought about running, but decided against it. She either had to stand and fight, or give in and let it end now. Either way, she wouldn’t run. It would be no use to do so anyway.
Ashe continued to roil in unbridled rage, swearing a stream of obscenity the likes of which Rhapsody had never heard. “She knew,” he snarled, lashing out at the air as thunder rolled across the firmament that held the dome of Elysian in place. “She knew, and she lied to me.”
“Knew what? What did I know?” Rhapsody gasped, struggling to maintain her balance as the earth began to tremble beneath her. “I’m sorry—I don’t know what I’ve done.”
His eyes narrowed to slits, blue as hottest part of a flame. “ ‘She did not land, she did not come’ she said,” he ranted, his voice dropping to a murderous whisper. “But she knew. She knew you had left, you just hadn’t arrived yet. But she knew you were coming. And she didn’t tell me.”
“She? Who? Who knew?”
“ANWYN!” the dragon shrieked. Its multitoned voice rattled the walls.
Rhapsody cast a glance at the door. Achmed. She needed to get to the gazebo and call for Achmed. Killing Ashe without the Thrall ritual would be pointless.
The instruments within the cherry cabinet raided as tremors rumbled through the cottage. Ashe lashed out in a convulsive sweep of his arms; books leapt from the shelves and tumbled to the floor.