Lightbringer (Empirium #3) - Claire Legrand Page 0,110

blood, her hands pinning Obritsa to the dirt. A ruin of ash and death encircling them.

The last time he had seen her had been on her wedding night. She had been a gilded creature, trussed up in lace and velvet, stupid and happy, and she had still been slender then, her belly and face not so plump as they were now.

“Rielle! Oh, sweet saints, thank God you’re all right,” he said, the words bursting from him. When he reached for her, a bolt of terror cracked through her like lightning.

“Get away from me,” she snarled, not releasing her hold on Obritsa. The girl would run; the strange little alliance between them had doubtless been shattered the moment Rielle attacked her. Without her, if Rielle couldn’t snatch Garver or his friend before they threaded themselves to safety, she would be stranded here on this awful, storm-bitten coast, and it would take Corien months to retrieve her.

Tal startled to a stop, the joy falling from his face. His gaze flitted across the cliff-side, the blood-sprayed rocks.

Their eyes met. “Rielle, it’s all right,” he said, as if placating a child. “I understand what happened here.”

She laughed. As if, with his simple mind and unexceptional talents, he could understand anything of what she felt or what she was.

He approached her, hands raised. “You don’t have to be ashamed. You’re destroying the saints’ castings, aren’t you? You’ve chosen not to open the Gate.” There was a small smile on his lips. “I knew you wouldn’t help him. I knew you would come to your senses. You were angry and afraid. I understand that.”

“Come to my senses?” She glared up at him through her lashes. The world pulsed in shades of amber and bronze. “You know nothing of my mind, and you never could.”

“But I want to, Rielle.” He slowly knelt, so their eyes were level. “I want to know what you see. I want to understand everything that hurts you.”

Between them, Obritsa struggled in Rielle’s grip, her breathing fast and thin.

“You can’t.” A great frustration reared up in Rielle. Tal’s ignorance disgusted her. “My might is beyond the reach of any man who lives.”

“Maybe, if you come home with me—”

“Home?” A tiny laugh escaped her. She drew in a shuddering breath, which pulled tears from her eyes. Her voice was a mere quaver. “I have no home.”

“Yes, you do.” Tal’s voice held an immense gentleness, and she couldn’t bear it, that he would dare to be gentle when she felt so brittle, so sticky with blood.

“Get away from me, Tal. You’ve said you love me. Show me that, and obey my wishes.”

“Your home is in Âme de la Terre,” he said, undeterred, “with me, and Audric, and Ludivine. Queen Genoveve, Sloane, Miren.” Tal glanced over his shoulder, where Garver stood grimly. “Your friend Garver Randell and his little boy.”

Rielle felt the moment Corien took hold of Obritsa’s mind. The girl’s body slackened under her hands, and with relief Rielle scrambled away from her, left her sprawled. Garver started toward Obritsa immediately, but Rielle flung out her arm and shoved him back into the tangled brush, far from the cliff’s edge. The pale woman, his companion, ran after him with a sharp cry.

Tal tensed. “Rielle, please. Come home with me. You don’t have to run anymore.”

“And what shall I do, when I go home with you?” She crouched in the dirt, her smile turning vicious. “Shall I parade through the streets, greeting my many admirers? Shall I compose a song to accompany the curses they will throw at me? Tell me, Tal, what rhymes with Kingsbane?”

“Rielle. It won’t be like that.”

“You’re lying to me.” She shook her head, harsh laughter rising, and touched her aching temple. “Everyone’s always lying to me. Audric said he didn’t care, that it didn’t matter, but it does. He can’t hide that from me.”

“If you come home, if you tell everyone what happened, they’ll understand. They will accept you.”

“They hate me,” she whispered, “and they always will, and you know it.”

Tal opened his arms to her, and his face was so soft, so open with love, that Rielle, tired as she was, her head pulsing with pain and her mouth sour with death, let him come. He held her against his chest, his hand gingerly cupping her head. He pressed his mouth against her hair, heedless of the blood.

And for a moment, Rielle closed her eyes and allowed it.

But then Tal began to speak.

“You were confused,” he said softly. “He slipped