Smolder (Crown of Fae #3) - Sharon Ashwood Page 0,28
together. There were no locks for the keys anymore, but she kept them as a reminder of where her family had been. Besides the keys, there was a spoon for medicines, a flint, and a tiny baby rattle for the grandchildren her mother would never see. There was a vial of holy oil so the Flame would never lack fuel at their hearth. Finally, there was a second vial no bigger than her smallest fingernail, sealed with wax. Leena had never opened it, but she knew it contained a deadly poison in powdered form. It was the last weapon, and the final escape, in a world overrun by the likes of Juradoc.
Kifi finished the remains of Leena’s dinner, thoroughly cleaning the chicken from her whiskers. She hopped down from her perch on the grain sacks, then began batting the container of incense to and fro like a toy.
“Stop that,” Leena said, snatching up the box and unscrewing the lid. She dropped a tiny pinch of incense into the brass bowl.
“You are taking your time,” Kifi observed. “Are you stalling?”
“Perhaps I’m afraid I won’t like the Mother’s answer.”
And maybe she was afraid of the Shades catching her in the act, although her spell was quiet magic, barely more than a prayer. Still, her message might be powerful enough to reach its destination—and she sorely wanted the Mother’s comforting touch.
Leena drew a shape in the air with her fingers, then let that shape catch fire. She dropped it into the bowl, the incense igniting with a hiss and a plume of smoke. The glowing sigil rose, spinning in slow revolutions before Leena’s eyes.
“Temple Mother,” Leena whispered, “I am far away from your gentle guidance. Answer this plea and tell me what to do.”
She sent a silent message, capturing all that she had done and the results of her efforts. When she had finished, she dispersed the swirling smoke with a puff of her breath, sending her questions home.
Then she sat back to await answers. Kifi crawled into her lap, curling up to sleep. As the scent of the incense faded, Leena’s eyelids grew heavy. She was tired, and the effort required for the spell had all but exhausted her.
When the answer returned, it came scratchy and faint, as if the magic that powered it was encountering resistance. “I wondered where you went. Tovas is beside himself with worry.”
Leena winced, regretting she’d upset the kind Master of Revels. And yet, she’d expected worse from both Tovas and the Mother for leaving without permission.
The Mother continued, leaving her no time to reply. “You cannot balance your personal quest with guarding the source of the Flame.”
“Fionn’s future depends on me,” Leena whispered. “Tell me what else I might do to heal Morran.”
“That will not save the Great Temple.”
“But if I heal Morran, I can do both.”
“What you have told me leads in a different direction, my child. Sometimes, a blighted plant must be culled to save a garden.” The words broke, tangled with regret. “Destroy Morran before he destroys us all. Everything depends on you.”
“I’m a healer.”
“Yes, one who understands the mixing of medicines.”
Horror prickled over Leena’s skin. Her mind flashed to the poison in her chatelaine, then veered away just as quickly. “I can’t do it, not even if that’s what the prophecy means.”
Leena was arguing with the Mother, and disobedience was treason, but poisoning Morran was murder. The miles between them crackled with ponderous silence.
“Ah, yes, the prophecy,” the Mother finally said. “You are the hand destined to strike the necessary blow.”
The connection broke with an almost audible snap, the Mother’s voice vanishing from her mind.
10
Leena’s thoughts refused to quiet. As the night crawled on and the wagon grew cold, she cleared away the evidence of her spell and settled down to rest her body, if not her mind.
If the Mother asked her to strike the blow against Morran, that meant the temple’s enchantments couldn’t do the job. It was too far, or the Shades created magical interference. Perhaps, like everything else in Faery, the Mother’s power was fading. Leena went over the conversation time and again, weighing each word.
Kifi curled into the hollow between her ear and her shoulder, purring softly to give comfort. The temple cat had overheard what the Mother had said, and she seemed equally troubled.
“For a moment, Morran’s mind was as clear as my own,” Leena murmured. “Doesn’t that mean he might be helped?”