Early the next morning, Jonmarc and Carina rode out from the manor house. The rolling hills were covered with snow under an overcast sky. Wind rustled through the bare trees. "Over there," Jonmarc said, pointing to the far left, "you can see the vineyards. Not too long ago, their wines were the pride of Principality. Nidar and I want to make that true again. Down there's the town of Dark Haven. Mortals and vayash morn live and work together here—and they intermarry. More than a few ghosts around, too. If Tris ever makes it back this way, he'll have a crowd waiting."
Carina's horse snuffled in the cold. She tucked her cloak closer around herself, shielding her face from the wind. "That's going to take some getting used to," she confessed.
"Vayash moru feel different to a healer. They're not alive and they're not dead. They're—empty."
"I've had a few months to get used to it myself. Most of the time I don't think about being food."
"There was something odd last night, when I healed Eiria's hands. Even being vyrkin, her life force didn't feel right."
"Eiria doesn't have much time left. Riqua told me that Shifters eventually get stuck in their other form. When that happens, they die or go mad. Eiria's starting to lose control" over when she shifts. Yestin doesn't say anything, but you can see it in his eyes when he looks at her. They've been together a long time. The problem with the Flow makes it worse."
Carina turned to him. "I'm surprised to hear you talk about the Flow. I thought that was just the Sisterhood."
"Yeah, well I was ready to leave it to the witch biddies until I started living on top of it. I can't feel it—at least, not like you or Tris can—but from what everyone says, even the non-magic users get affected after a while. It runs right beneath Dark Haven—that's how the last lord was killed, when Arontala stole that damned Soulcatcher orb. He warped the Flow, and since then, nothing's been quite the same, not the land, nor the livestock, nor the crops."
"I felt something odd last night, but I was so tired, I figured it was the long ride."
"That's one reason why our rooms are on the top floor, in the far wing. Gabriel and I thought it was a good idea to keep both of us as far away from it as possible."
Jonmarc smiled. "Maynard Linton stopped by just before Gabriel and I headed for Mar-golan. I told him about what we're trying to do, and I took him down to the village to see the crafts people. Potters, glass blowers, and some of the best weavers outside of Noor. Not to mention the vayash moru goldsmiths and sword smiths. I haven't seen Linton that excited in a long time. Seems he's been itching to get back on the caravan trail now that Jared's gone. Plans to keep his ties to the river as well. So he put in a big order and he'll be back at the thaw to pick it up. Wants to trade it on the main caravan route plus down the Nu to Jolie's Place. That alone will go a long way toward putting some gold in the townspeople's pockets. Enough for them to rebuild their herds and make some improvements." "I knew you weren't the average mercenary." "I used to watch my father do his accounts every month. He ran a very successful forge, and mother's weaving brought customers from all over the Borderlands. If accounts were good at month's end, we roasted a goat or a lamb. If things were tight, all we got was chicken. We had four boys in the family—we did everything we could to make it a goat month." He looked out over the windswept hills. Snow glistened in the air; the winds dusted it up until it shone in the cold winter sun.
"I think they'd approve, if they could see Dark Haven," he said wistfully. "My mother and father. Been a lot of years that I hoped the dead couldn't see me. After being around Tris, I know they could. But now, maybe I've started to make up for all that."
Carina reached out to take his gloved hand. "You're the one who told me that the dead forgive us."
"I know. But it's harder to believe when there's more to be forgiven. Let's get back before we freeze. I still haven't shown you everything in the dependencies."
Jonmarc took her through the stables and the forge, the granary and the wine cellar. While Dark Haven was not as large as many of the noble houses Carina had visited, it was solid and compact, and she had no doubt that it would quickly be as self-sustaining as Jonmarc hoped.
"Here's where Arontala destroyed the old foundation," Jonmarc said, pointing to a jumble of rocks behind the west wing of the building. "Gabriel says that underneath there's a vault—the chamber is still standing—and the Flow runs through the chamber. No one goes down there—it's dangerous since the Flow was damaged. Gabriel says it surges and wanes for no reason. Goddess knows I've got no magic, but when I stand here, I could swear I feel something—like the crackle in the air when lightning's near."
"You do." Carina closed her eyes and extended her healer's senses. While she had power of a different sort than Tris, she had long ago become attuned to the working of magic. The vast river of power that flowed beneath their feet was the most powerful energy she'd ever sensed. "I agree—I wouldn't want to go any closer. I can almost hear a buzzing, like a big nest of bees. Let's go back to the great room—surely it's time to eat by now."
When Carina and Jonmarc entered the courtyard, there was a large group lined up outside the manor. "What's going on?" Jonmarc asked a stable hand.
"Beggin' your pardon, m'lord, but it's the line to see Lady Carina. Word's gotten out to the village that there's a healer here—and a fine one, too. They've started lining up since this morning."
"She's only just arrived," Jonmarc protested, but Carina touched his hand.
"It's all right. If they're willing to come out in this weather, they must need a healer pretty badly. I'll get my things. Is there somewhere— maybe in the granary—where I can treat them? Somewhere we can get them out of the wind?"
Jonmarc leaned down to kiss her. "I'll have the kitchen send down your lunch. I've got some work to do before this evening myself.
Only finish up by sixth bells—you're the guest of honor tonight, and the Blood Council is coming."
By the time the tower tolled fifth bells, Carina had seen dozens of villagers with complaints from ague to badly-healed bones, and the usual bouts of flux and worms. Carina did not doubt that the vyrkin would come soon. She climbed the stairs, to her new rooms wearily, dusting off her hands on her robe. Carina was surprised, and pleased to find Lisette waiting for her, with a hot kettle o'f tea and a small plate of cakes.
"I think I'm frozen through completely." Carina moved near the fire. Lisette took Carina's cloak and returned with a warm wrap.
Lisette's smile was genuine. "I hope m'lady finds Dark Haven to be her home for a very long time. We'd heard so much about you as we readied your room, I feel as if you and I had already met."
"Really?"
Lisette nodded. Her red hair was wrapped around her head in a long braid, and she was dressed to accompany Carina to the party in a slim-fitting dress of dark blue. "Lord Gabriel's told us quite a bit about your healing skills, and if I'm not overstepping my place to say so, Lord Jonmarc certainly looked happier the nearer the day came for him to go to Margolan to get you."
Carina lifted the hot cup of tea and cradled it in her hands. "Lady bless! I never expected there to be so many people who needed a healer on my first day." She sipped her tea. "I think I understand what Jonmarc was trying to tell me about the Flow. As soon as I started to heal, it felt like there was something draining my energy. Everything took twice as much effort as it should have—like walking against the wind."
"They're lucky to have you," Lisette said, fluffing out the skirt to Carina's party dress.
"Are there no vayash morn healers? I know that vayash moru can be mages."
Lisette shook her head. "Healing magic wars with the Dark Gift. A healer can't be brought across." She paused. "Tell me, m'lady, are you also a mind healer?"
"Not yet, although perhaps some day. Why?"
"My kind have no need for the usual gifts of a healer. But over many lifetimes, it would be a kindness to be able to forget. I sense that you're not yet comfortable among so many vayash moru."
"It will take some getting used to," Carina admitted. "I don't know how to explain it. To my healer's senses, you 'feel' different. I've never been around so many at once, and it has me a bit off balance."
"T'will be no different tonight. The Blood Council will be here, and their 'families.'" She grew serious. "M'lady, please don't wander off alone tonight. Not with Uri in the manor."
Carina frowned. "Why not?"
"I'm talking out of turn to say this, m'lady, but Uri's bad seed. He doesn't think there should be a mortal as Lord of Dark Haven, and his brood's worse than he is. Please make sure that you're with someone you trust tonight at all times."
"Thank you." Carina set the tea aside. "I guess I'd best be getting dressed. Wouldn't do to be late." -
The great room glittered with candles and mirrors. Carina took Jonmarc's arm and entered to a round of applause and cheers. Tonight's guests were dressed for court, in sumptuous velvets and the rich, muted brocades of winter. Above the smell of wassail and warmed wine, Carina could detect the tang of fresh blood. And while the previous night's guests were a nearly equal mix of mortals and vayash moru, Carina was sure from a glance around the room that few mortals were among this evening's crowd.
"You look quite beautiful, m'lady." Yestin bowed low in greeting. Eiria made a courtesy. "Mind if we join you?"
"That's his very polite way of saying they're our bodyguards for this evening," Jonmarc said.
"That sounds so harsh. Lord Gabriel just asked that we help make introductions."
Yestin held a glass of port. Eiria left and returned with glasses of warm wassail for both Carina and Jonmarc.
"Is everyone here?" Jonmarc asked quietly.
"Of the Council, everyone except Uri. Typical."
Jonmarc drained his cup of wassail. "If we're lucky,.he's got an alehouse gutter to raid."
"We should be so fortunate." Riqua spoke from behind them. "Welcome to Dark Haven, Lady Carina. And congratulations on your handfasting."
"You're very kind," Carina replied. "You had no difficulty making the trip back from Shekerishet?"
"I'm sure we made better time than you did. Gabriel slowed his speed for your comfort."
Gabriel and Laisren were talking on the other side of the room, and Carina noticed that Lisette stayed close to Laisren. There's a story there, I bet, she thought. Jonmarc guided her through the crowd, accepting the greetings and congratulations of well-wishers. Rafe and Astasia arrived together, and although Cailan was noticeably pouting, they did not seem to care.
Uri arrived late, accompanied by a dozen of his brood. Malesh, the dark-haired young man Jonmarc had spotted at their last meeting, hung back a pace from the others. They laughed loudly enough to draw annoyed looks from the other partygoers as they poured themselves goblets of goat's blood, carrying on as if they had just come from a night on the town. Jonmarc drew Carina closer to him; Yestin and Eiria stayed near. It took Uri a full candlemark to make his greeting, a show of calculated disdain Jonmarc doubted was accidental.
After a long while, Uri ambled toward them. He smelled of absinthe, and the scent of pipe smoke clung to his satin coat.
"So this is the new Lady of Dark Haven." Uri's voice was as smooth as brandy. "What an honor to meet you." He made an unnecessarily low bow, pressing his lips to the back of Carina's hand. "King Donelan's court healer, am I right? How interesting that you've chosen to come to Dark Haven. Bit of a step down, isn't it? Surely someone of your standing could have done much better." "That's enough, Uri." Jonmarc said. "Then again, if blood is the qualification for becoming Lord of Dark Haven, you're certainly fully qualified," Uri said to Jonmarc, his dark eyes glinting a challenge. "Have you told her how many men you had to kill to be the general's great champion, back when you were a fight slave? Some of them may have given you a challenge, but surely most of them were no match for a fighter like yourself— the captives nor the prisoners. Did you kill them quickly, I wonder, or did you make it last for the entertainment of your keepers?" Uri clicked his tongue in mock horror. "Hard to see why the Lady would choose a mortal like you. You've probably killed more of your own kind than I have." Uri leaned close enough that Jonmarc could smell the rancid blood on his breath. "At least I eat what I kill."
"I said, that's enough."
Uri smiled unpleasantly, glancing toward Jonmarc's sword and his balled, white-knuckled fist. "Think you're good enough to challenge me? Go ahead. You want to. Let's see how the general's great champion holds up in a fight with a real opponent."
"Get out."
Uri laughed. "You must be learning from Gabriel. I seem to get thrown out of the best places these days." Uri leaned toward Jonmarc. "Bride or no bride, don't count just yet on passing the title to an heir. None of the last four lords have lived that long. You might find that the Lady's will is more elusive than you think."
Uri motioned to his brood to follow him and they moved to the door at human speed, intentionally crowding through the partygoers. Malesh lingered for a moment longer, and his eyes met Jonmarc's with a gaze that sent a chill down Jonmarc's back. Jonmarc watched him go, consciously forcing himself to unclench his fists.
"We'll make sure they're gone," Yestin volunteered, and he and Eiria hurried out.
Gabriel and Laisren joined them, with Lisette close behind them. "You handled that about as well as it could be done," Gabriel remarked dryly.
"Given that Uri's spoiling for a. brawl, I agree. Although the odds are against him with the crowd tonight." Laisren looked around at the other guests who had ignored Uri's outburst and gone back to their conversation.
Jonmarc took Carina's hand, but he avoided her gaze. "I don't think even Uri would be fool enough to strike here,, but just in case, let's keep vayash moru guards around the manor tonight. I don't want to take any chances."
"It would be a pity to let a boor like Uri ruin this evening," Gabriel said. "This is a celebration. You've suffered through enough introductions. Come and enjoy."
Jonmarc allowed himself to be steered to where Gabriel's family and Riqua's brood mingled near one of the tall banks of candles. He found the questions in Carina's eyes unsettling.
Just before dawn, the party ended. Gabriel, Laisren and the vayash moru close to Jonmarc left for the day crypts within Dark Haven. The others took shelter in their secret places before light broke through the winter night. Carina grew quiet as they climbed the stairs toward their quarters. As tired as Jonmarc was, a sense of dread filled him.
"Here we are," he said, opening the door to their rooms. The corridors of Dark Haven were nearly empty. It was too close to sunrise for the vayash moru, and still too early for most mortals. Jonmarc noticed that someone had laid out their night clothes and a small plate of sweet cakes, along with a kettle of hot tea near the fire. He unbuttoned his doublet and laid it aside, too restless to relax.
"Aside from Uri, that was a very nice reception," Carina said. "Although if these are the hours you normally keep, it's going to take some getting used to."
Jonmarc forced a smile and took the cup Carina offered. "Except for Uri and his brood, Dark Haven is a decent group of folks."
"What's Uri got against you?" Carina asked
"Uri never believed it was right for Dark Haven to have a mortal lord," Jonmarc said. "That's part of it, but I don't think Uri actually wants to be lord. I think he likes the attention complaining about it gets him." Through the frost on the glass, he could see the first light of dawn above the mountains in the distance. "Uri's spent a lot of time along the river. He was a gambler and a cutpurse before he was brought across by someone he cheated. He's gotten rich being vayash moru, but he's never earned anyone's respect. He can't figure out why I've gotten what he hasn't."
Carina set down her cup of tea and moved toward him. "I don't need to be a healer to know that something's bothering you. What Uri said back there—that's it, isn't it?"
"I've been things I'm not proud of, Carina. Done things I wish I could forget. I never wanted any of that to taint what we have. I thought it was dead and buried."
"Things don't seem to stay buried around here." She moved back towards the fire. "When you helped me heal Harrtuck, that's what you were afraid of, wasn't it? What I might see if I could read your mind."
"For so many years, I tried to forget what happened in Nargi. Being back at Jolie's this spring, back in Nargi, made it all real again. Uri's right about me."
"This would make a little more sense if you started from the beginning," Carina said.
"Kiara told you what happened at Chau-vrenne. I was trying to get out of Eastmark, back to Margolan. There was a king's warrant on me. I ran. I made it across Dhasson, but I lost my bearings and accidentally crossed into Nargi. Big mistake. I realized it when I was attacked by one of their scout teams. I was desperate, and I fought like a wild thing—took down three of them before they got me. I was twenty.
"Their general was impressed. Life is cheap in Nargi. He gave me the choice between being burned alive or getting to earn my life week by week in their games. So I fought.'' He grew silent for a moment, looking out over the shadowed hills.
"At first, he emptied their jail. Sent me up against the ruffians and the cutthroats and the brawlers. They could earn their freedom by beating me, while I'd still be the general's slave, win or lose. They fought like dimonns. But I still won. Sometimes, the general sent the bad seed that he wanted to cull out of his ranks.
"I hated being his executioner. I hated the way the audience bet on the fights, how they cheered every time we bled. They bet on me to win, and they bet bigger against me to die. But I fought, and I hated myself for fighting.
"Nargi fought border skirmishes with Dhasson, trying to push out their holdings. And when the general took captives, he sent them up against me. If he didn't think they'd fight or he thought I might refuse, he had his priests dose them with drugs—like the asbteneratb— so they were out of their minds with rage. I could see it in their eyes. It was a kindness to end it for them."
Jonmarc's voice grew quieter as the memories returned. "I won big for the general, and he rewarded me with enough brandy and absinthe to get me through the week. When I'd sober up for the games, I promised myself every time that I'd throw the bet, end it. It would have been so easy," he said, his voice thick with self-reproach. "Just react a little slower. Let them take me. But then the fight would start, and something would take over, and then next thing I knew, I won again.
"The night the general let me escape, the guards chased me into the Nu. It was winter. I didn't care. I figured at least I'd die free. Washed up on the shore near Jolie's Place. Found out later that she almost had Astir slit my throat because I was wearing a Nargi uniform. But Harrtuck was there, and a friend of mine named Thaine. Harrtuck got Jolie to let me stay. I took fever—too much water in my lungs. Almost died anyhow. Harrtuck and Thaine stayed with me." His voice was bitter. "I was so angry at Harrtuck when I woke up and found out I was still alive.
"My soul belongs to the Crone for what I've done. Every night in my dreams I see the faces of the men I killed in the games. From the time my family died, fifteen years, I've been cursed. I don't know why. But things started to turn around when I met Tris—and you. I should have told you before. You deserved to know before you made the decision to come here. If you want to break the handfasting, I understand."
He thought the silence would last forever. She's probably too disgusted to reply. Can't blame her.
Carina stepped up behind him. Her hands slid across his back, over the smooth satin of his shirt and the scarred skin beneath. Her touch moved with the care of a lover, and the healing warmth of her gift reached into the knotted muscles, releasing their tension. "I used to wonder, when you'd startle awake in your sleep, what you were seeing in your dreams," she said quietly. "I wondered why I saw terror in your eyes. I couldn't read your mind, but I could read your body. Now I understand."
She slipped her arms around his waist and laid her cheek against his back. "I'd heard about the Nargi games when Cam and I were with the mercs in Eastmark. Some of the mercs were Nargi deserters who'd made it across the border. Their stories were almost too horrible to believe. Some of those stories were about the games."
Jonmarc turned toward her, wrapping his arms around her. "So you knew—and you came anyhow?"
"How many times have I healed you? Even mercs don't have the scars you've got. I'd guessed that you'd been used as the quintain— I've heard of commanders who'll do that as a punishment. I couldn't figure out how you could still be alive and be so beat up. Then you mentioned the games, and I knew what it would have taken to survive." She looked down. "Sometimes, when you're sleeping and I know that you're dreaming, I'll trance with you. I can't see what you're dreaming, but I can feel your reaction. I can blunt the effect." She shivered. "It's as close to the abyss as I ever want to come.
"I love you, Jonmarc Vahanian. Scars and all. And I agree with Gabriel. It's Istra's hand on you that's brought you this far, not the Crone. You'll see. Things will be better."
"It's already better," he murmured, bending down to kiss her, knowing she could sense the relief that flooded through him, no longer caring that she could read him so well. Nothing at all mattered, nothing except that she knew everything and wanted to stay.