Page 62 of HeartTorn

“Mage Artoris would not have been at the Temple of Lamruil were it not to me.”

“I loved him.”

The first time I saw Ilsevel, she was with that man. Who’s to say they weren’t colluding from the very beginning? She might have been plotting to entrap me from the moment I first set eyes on her, all in a bid to get closer to our most secret and sacred places. And was I so easily duped? Did my hunger for her make me such a ready mark? Even that moment when I saw her fighting him could have been part of the scheme, intended to arouse my sympathy for a lovely, helpless maid.

It comes to me suddenly that she did enspell me that night. Briefly, or so I thought. When I sought to take her captive, she opened her mouth and began to sing, momentarily freezing me in place. Could it be that she affixed a deeper spell at that time? One I could not so easily shake as the temporary stupor? One that drove me compulsively to fight for her, to lust for her, to bind myself to her despite every rational thought?

“Taarthalor.” Halaema’s voice brings me back, my gaze locking with her. She’s used my name rather than my title, reminding me suddenly of the boy I once was, trailing after her and her mighty licorneir, hoping for even a glance of her favor. “Taar, remember, thevelraclouds your thoughts. You cannot be blamed for not seeing the truth sooner. Even now you desire to protect her. Your noble spirit does you credit.” She leans a little forward, her old skeleton crackling. “But even if you believe her powers are from the gods, she broke Licornyn law. She turned loose a hearttorn licorneir, damning her to endless separation from Nornala. If this does not prove to you the evil of her very nature, the worthlessness of her heart, I don’t know what will.”

More protests leap to my tongue. I cannot bear to hear Ilsevel described in these terms. Did she act rashly, foolishly even? Yes, but not out of any evil intent. She truly believed she could help Nyathri. “She . . .” I clear my throat painfully. “She did not understand.”

“And does the sacredness of our laws depend only on the understanding of those who keep or break them?” Onor Gantarith rumbles. “The law is the law.”

I turn on the priest, fists knotting. “So you will kill her?” I force the words through my teeth.

“Yes,” he replies. “Human though she is, it gives me no pleasure. But it must be done. We must punish the crime she has committed and, more importantly, free ourluinarfrom her thrall.”

I take an aggressive step toward him. Only Halamar’s hand, appearing suddenly on my shoulder, keeps me in check. Gantarith sees the truth in my furious eyes and flinches. But he does not break my gaze.

“Yes, yes.” Halaema reaches out to pat the priest’s hand with her wrinkled old fingers. “This is what must be done. Ourluinaris suffering even under this small separation. He must be free of her.”

My breath is tight, and thevelraaround my arm screams with pain. “When will this take place?” I demand.

“The appropriate time,” Gantarith answers, “is the turning point of one day to the next. Let the evil be ended and the new day greeted in purity. So midnight tonight.”

My gaze flashes to the curtained door and the late-afternoon light splashed across the floor. How many hours until midnight? How many hours more will I know this bond to her, this connection of souls which I never sought but which I now find myself so loathe to break? It feels as though the very seconds are racing by, faster than I can count them.

Halaema rises, slowly and with much creaking and groaning, assisted by the priest. Then she totters toward me, unintimidated by the fury so obviously brimming in my soul. “Do not fret,luinar,” she says and pats my cheek with her withered hand. “Thevelrais confusing your mind. You will feelmuch better once the bond is severed. In the meanwhile you must do us all a favor and stay here. Away from the human, away from the ceremony. You will feel sick, I know. But it will pass. Tassa here will look after you. She’s a good girl, loyal to her brother.”

I struggle to draw breath. “You mean to make Ilsevel march to her death alone?”

The elder shrugs. “You may choose to bear witness, if you believe it the right thing. But thevelramay make things . . . difficult. You could end up acting in a way that you will regret come dawn.” She looks into my eyes, the wrinkles on her forehead mounding. “For the safety of everyone, it would be better if you stayed away. But the choice is yours, dear boy.”

She turns then and totters for the door, leaning heavily on Onor Gantarith’s supporting arm as she goes. “I’m sorry for what has happened,” she calls back over her shoulder just as she reaches the entrance curtain. “I believe you meant well when you chose to rescue that creature. But humans cannot help being the monsters they are. Her true nature was always going to reveal itself. We must be thankful she caused no greater harm than she did.” With that she releases her grip on Gantarith and steps through the curtain on her own, leaving it to swing shut behind her.

The priest turns to me. There’s something uneasy in his eyes, something raw. “It is for the best,luinar,” he says. But this time he sounds as though he’s convincing himself.

“Have you done this before?” I ask, my voice low.

He doesn’t pretend to misunderstand me. He holds my gaze for a count of ten breaths before lowering his lashes and shaking his head.

“But you will do it tonight? You will slit her throat. Spill her blood. Under the watching eye of Nornala.”

“It is what the law and the elders demand,” he answers. “She has betrayed Licorna in the bitterest way, damning one of our own licorneir to eternal torment.” He lifts his eyes to mine again, and firelight gleams off what one might mistake for a sheen of tears. Damn him. Damn him and all his remorseful nobility.

I put my back to him, pace to the far side of thedakathchamber, where the shadows are deepest. Behind me, I hear the curtain move as Gantarith departs, leaving me with Halamar and Tassa. I can feel the two of them exchanging glances, silently asking each other how best to comfort me. But I don’t want comfort. The pain searing up my arm and churning in my gut is the only thing keeping me steady.

“Go,” I say, my voice a low growl.

Silence answers. Then, ever faithful and obedient, Halamar moves. I listen to his heavy footsteps as he exits thedakath.No doubt he will take up position just outside, weapon at the ready. Whether guarding or imprisoning me, I cannot say.

Tassa remains where she’s seated on a cushion near the south tent wall. She pretends to be working on a tablet-weaving, her fingers nimble and quick with the long-practiced movements. But though her eyes remain fixed on her task, her attention is entirely on me.

“You should leave as well,” I say at long last and heave a great breath. “There’s nothing for you here. I don’t care for company just now.”

Her face uncharacteristically mild, Tassa carefully condenses the three small square tablets that make up her handloom and coils the woven length she has already produced so that it will not snarl. This task complete, she sets the whole to one side and lifts her eyes to meet mine. “What are you going to do?”

I don’t speak. I can’t. I stalk to the fire and stare into it, wishing I could cast myself into the blaze. Perhaps the heat ofreal fire could distract from this burning pain in my arm and make me forget my crippling weakness.

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