“Where are we going?” he asked, and realized suddenly he didn’t care.
“To Lover’s Cove,” said Kailani. “It is really only a cave, but it is filled with hundreds of little nooks and hideaways, perfect for those seeking privacy.” She added with a little sigh, “Privacy is something hard to come by in our city.”
“Why is that?”
“Our dwellings are small and overcrowded. We live on top of one another. Our life spans are long. The only threats we face are accidents, disease, and predators. Families may have as many as four generations living beneath one roof.”
Kailani shook her head. “But our peaceful ways may come to an end. War is inevitable, I fear. The followers of Aelon are trying to force his worship on everyone and there are those like our Queen who are faithful to the Old Gods.”
Farinn held out his arm as they floated down the swift-moving stream and showed Kailani the long, jagged, snake-shaped scar. “Back in Sinaria, the priestesses of Aelon cut our flesh and embedded us with magical crystals. If we did anything or thought anything Aelon did not like, the god punished us.”
“Truly?” Kailani’s eyes were wide, startled. “Aelon can do that?”
“The pain of disobedience was like plunging my arm into hot coals,” said Farinn, grimacing. “When we escaped, Skylan used the blessed sword of Vindrash to cut out the crystals. Our blood washed away the god’s hold over us.”
Kailani caught the lantern as it floated past. She took his arm and held the light to examine the scar. She ran her fingers along it. Farinn flinched at her touch.
“I’m sorry,” Kailani said, concerned. “Does it still hurt?”
“The memory of it,” said Farinn. “But we won’t think of such things now.”
She splashed water in his face. Playing like children, they floated together down the stream, kicking with their feet and sometimes coming together to kiss, their mouths filling with water, which only made them laugh more.
The current slowed, the stream widened. Kailani drew away from him. By the light of the lantern, he could see a gate made of the enormous teeth of some sea creature embedded in the stone wall. The teeth were set close together, leaving barely enough room for him and Kailani to slither between. Fortunately Farinn was thin for a Vindrasi or he would have been forced to dive under the teeth.
“The sluice gate will not repel invaders,” Kailani said. “But it will slow them down. A man built like your chief would never make it!”
Beyond was the sea, inky black.
“That is our destination,” said Kailani, indicating a cavern in the distance, the opening glimmering with a faint phosphorescence. “The way is not far. I have brought you a breathing mask.”
She helped Farinn put the mask over his face and attached the clamshell to his back. He felt an instant’s panic when he could not breathe through his nose, but relaxed when he drew air into his lungs. Kailani did not use a mask. She began to swim, flashing through the water as fast as a porpoise. Farinn was a strong swimmer, but slower, burdened with the clamshell, and he soon lost sight of her. He could see the lantern she was carrying, however, and he swam toward the light.
His thoughts were on Kailani and taking her into his arms and his desire building and then the sweet release. When he felt an arm wrap around his waist, he thought it was Kailani, teasing him. Farinn was about to laugh in response, but then there were more arms, strong hands clasping him.
He was not a warrior, at least by Skylan’s standards, but Farinn had been trained to fight-his father had seen to that. Farinn lashed out at his captors. He kept his wits and made his punches count and he managed to hurt one of them, for he heard a grunt of pain. Something hard, like the butt end of a spear, slammed into his gut. Farinn doubled up, groaning. When the pain eased, he raised his head and saw Kailani, treading water quite close to him, holding the lantern, lighting the way.
“Don’t fight them,” she advised him. “You will only get hurt.”
A bitter taste flooded Farrin’s mouth. Kailani’s seduction had been a ruse, a trick to lure him out of the palace and into this ambush, though why they wanted him he could not imagine. He was only a poet.
“Where should we take him, Kailani?” one of the warriors asked.
“I will guide you,” she answered. “I’m sorry, Farinn. I didn’t mean…”
He looked away, unable to stand the sight of her. The lantern light wavered and then she swam off.
Overwhelmed with shame, Farinn sagged listlessly in his captors’ arms, the fight knocked out of him. He could not hear his song and wondered if he would ever hear it again.
CHAPTER 26
Aylaen was walking a path through the forest, a familiar path. The time was winter. The trees were bare of their leaves, the evergreens green and white. The path was covered over with snow, but she knew where she was; the path led to the house of Owl Mother.
Aylaen was bewildered. She didn’t know why she was on this path, because she didn’t want to visit Owl Mother. She was back home and she wanted to go to her own mother. Aylaen tried to turn back, but no matter which way she turned, she always ended up on the same path. She came to a halt outside Owl Mother’s ramshackle house.
The day was gray and silent, the thick, heavy silence that comes with the snow. A smudge of smoke rose from the chimney, and a light burned inside the window. The snow was trampled, marked with the footprints of animals.
Aylaen knocked loudly on the door.
“Owl Mother! It’s me, Aylaen. I’ve come home. Let me inside!”
The door opened. A baby dragon stood on the threshold. The dragon’s wings lifted and its crest flattened. When it opened its mouth and hissed, Aylaen gasped and fell back in shock. Owl Mother hobbled over, flapping her skirts at the dragon and chiding it.
“Get back to the fire, you silly beast. You’ll catch your death!”
The baby dragon ran off. Aylaen stared after it in astonishment. She did not accept Owl Mother’s invitation to enter, but remained standing on the threshold.
“Come in, child,” Owl Mother called from the smoke-tinged, warm darkness. “Don’t worry about the dragon. She can’t fly; she has a torn wing.”
“I’ve never seen a baby dragon,” said Aylaen, awed.
“Not many have, child. Mostly the parent keeps the babies safe in their own world. I’ve no notion how this one came to be here. She may be an orphan who wandered through the portal.”
Aylaen still hovered on the threshold and Owl Mother scowled.
“Why did you knock if you don’t plan to come in?”
Aylaen flushed. “Forgive me, Owl Mother, I will visit you another time. Now I want only to go home and I can’t find the way…”
“Come inside. You are letting in the cold,” Owl Mother chided her.
Owl Mother had seen over seventy summers. Her hair was white as the frost. She wore a wool dress and a heavy shawl wrapped around her shoulders and tied behind her back. A fire crackled in the fireplace, and the room was invitingly warm.
Aylaen entered the house reluctantly. Everyone knew that Owl Mother was a little mad. It was said she consorted with the fae.
Owl Mother closed the door on the cold and the snow. The old woman motioned for Aylaen to sit down in a chair by the fire, first shooing away a seagull perched on the chair’s back. The seagull flew off with an annoyed squawk. The baby dragon was curled up on a pile of straw before the fire. The dragon’s eyes gazed steadily at Aylaen. The seagull took refuge in the rafters and cleaned its beak with its foot. Aylaen remained standing.
“Owl Mother, I need to find the way home…”
“So do we all, child. Sit yourself. Someone wants to talk to you. He’s come a long distance.”
“Talk to me? How did anyone know I would be here?” Aylaen asked, bewildered.