Imryne, of House Melrae: Dark Water

[aithne]

Imryne, of House Melrae
Book One: War Child

Chapter 8: Dark Water



O swallow, sister, O fleeting swallow,
    My heart in me is a molten ember
        And over my head the waves have met.
But thou wouldst tarry or I would follow,
    Could I forget or thou remember,
        Couldst thou remember and I forget.

O sweet stray sister, O shifting swallow,
    The heart's division divideth us.
        Thy heart is light as a leaf of a tree;
But mine goes forth among sea-gulfs hollow
    To the place of the slaying of Itylus,
        The feast of Daulis, the Thracian sea.

--Swinburne, Itylus



(Imryne, in House Melrae)

Once in the privacy of the set, Imryne sagged. "Poor Sorn," she said with a bit of a shudder. "He must be desperate, if he's sending his love to me. He would usually know better."

"I would be desperate too, with her as a wife," Jevan growled. I think that is code for get me out now. But I don't think we can."

She shook her head regretfully. "He will have to stay where he is for the moment. I'm not sure we're going to be able to rescue him before she tires of him and kills him."

"He might be lost to us, but we can try." He rubbed his forehead, looking irritated. Standing in the same room with Greyanna often did that to him. "As for the infant?"

"If she's that far along, it might be almost ready to be born," Imryne said. "If you can cut it out after she dies, it might live. It might be a useful rallying-point, later. The heir of House Millithor. Might also be dangerous, but when is it not?"

Jevan raised an eyebrow slightly. "Always is. But we might need Tar for that. I am good with a knife. I know how to spill guts, not cut them open and take out a child."

The thought made Imryne's stomach do a nervous flip. "So all three of you would be out, and Zyn."

"I am afraid so. Unless Ilfryn can cut out a child?"

She shook her head sharply. "Not that I know of, and that sort of thing takes training and practice. If we want the child, it's necessary. I'll manage. Tar will probably jump at the chance."

"She probably will, and she has a better chance of keeping it alive," Jevan pointed out.

The door of Ilfryn's workroom opened, and out came the male himself, carrying the black staff in pieces. Imryne looked up, and smiled. "Ah, love. Find out anything interesting?"

"I did," he said. "Useful, very useful." Before he could say anything more, the door to the set banged open, and Tar came bouncing through, carrying Lesrak on her hip and followed by a crowd of children.

"You're back!" she crowed. She set Lesrak down, who ran to Imryne for a hug and then to Ilfryn. Faeryl was right on Lesrak's heels. The other children, a mixture of sisters and brothers and cousins, bounced around, claiming kisses from the adults in the room that they knew before deciding, seemingly as one, to retreat to Faeryl's room. "I told Jaelryn I'd take the smaller ones off her hands for a while," Tar told the rest of them. "She's a bit cranky. I'd be cranky too, if I were carrying the load she is."

Imryne chuckled. Private wagers among the family were that the child that Jaelryn was about three strands away from delivering had been sparked by her second husband, a giant of a warrior who always seemed awkward when he didn't have a weapon in his hands. Jaelryn was enormous, at least as big as she usually was full-term, and Imryne was just glad this wasn't her first child. "Poor thing. Is Mother going to take the children into her apartments?"

"Jaelryn was muttering something about that. I'm sure she'll find corners to stash all the children in," Tar said. "Ilfryn, did you find out how to work Imryne's new toy? I want to see what I spent all that time mutilating those poor corpses for."

"I was just about to demonstrate when you brought the herd in," Ilfryn said dryly. "Watch." He had two sections in each hand, and said, "Form." The pieces twitched and moved on their own, assembling themselves into a staff. "Blade." The staff's top end folded back to reveal a long, sharp blade. "Now for the big part." Ilfryn wrapped his hands more tightly, and suddenly they were on the surface.

A night sky arched above, filled with stars, and they were standing in a meadow ringed with trees. Males and females stood around them, frozen in a moment in time, and Imryne blinked to see Tar and herself there, Imryne in her green and gold mask and Tar in her white and silver one. It was an illusion, but it was a very good one. A few heartbeats passed, and then the scene blinked out and replaced by their set. Ilfryn sat down heavily on the couch. "That, though, is a drain." There were lines deeply carved on his face, and he was breathing heavily.

"It's amazing," Imryne said, going to sit next to him. "So it casts illusions, but they call on the resources of the one who cast it."

"They do. Less so if you are cleric of Ellistraee and not just a follower," he said. "It won't work at all if you are a Lloth worshipper. And the really nice part is that unless you do something like making it outdoors indoors, any Lloth worshipper is going to believe it. It's not detectable by any spell I know. I tried them all, and it registers every time as real."

She reached over to touch the staff, feeling the stone cool under her hands. "No wonder those people were willing to die to protect it, and Millithor made such a mistake trying to get it back. Can I try it?"

"I think it's yours anyway." Ilfryn took her hand and pulled it upward, to the top section of the staff. "You can't see it but right here, it's got drow script." He ran her hand over it, and Imryne stiffened as she recognized the characters that made up her name carved in relief. "It says the same on the other side in elvish."

Astonished, Imryne curled her fingers around the staff, feeling the carving of her name in elvish on the other side. "Why on earth would this have my name on it?"

Ilfryn shrugged with one shoulder. "No idea, other than that you were the first to touch it. It may have keyed to you. Some items do."

"Probably. I'm not a priestess, though. A devout follower, yes, but there are times when my actions and my faith don't coincide."

"You chose the path of mage and gave it up," Ilfryn said gently, not blaming, simply stating a fact. Imryne still flinched a little. "Maybe it's a signal that you are starting, or need to start, a new path."

"Maybe. I don't think I'll ever be able to go back to my mage studies." She had been an avid student until she had fallen into her depression, right before Ryld had died. She had never managed to get back her passion for it, even though she hadn't remembered a thing after the memories were taken. She thought about Ryld, trying to make a picture of him in her mind.

An image of him appeared, one of her fondest memories of him on the floor, propped up with pillows. He was barely bigger than a cycle-old baby, though he had been almost three cycles old. His body was slack, but his eyes were bright. There was almost a smile on his lips; it was an odd-looking expression, but it was happiness. The pain had been less intense that ilit, and for a few minutes after first meal Ryld had seemed better.

He had "died" three ilit later.

Imryne had tears standing in her eyes, and she noticed that the illusion was some effort to hold, but it wasn't all that draining. Jevan asked, "That was our baby?"

"As I remember him, right before he was taken," she said.

"He was beautiful, just like his mother," he said, and he was looking at her so seriously with those pale eyes of his. Jevan meant it, she realized. He looked at the image of her broken, fragile, unspeaking son, and he saw beauty, and the ways he resembled his mother.

It was hard to keep the tears from spilling over. "Just like his father," she said, rubbing her eyes, wiping away the tears. She let the illusion go.

"We will get him back, and make more," Jevan told her, smiling.

She took a long, shaky breath, wondering how she could feel so warm and yet still like her heart was breaking. "I hope so, at least," she said. She looked around the room, setting her thoughts in order. "Ilfryn, Zyn would like you to go along with him and Jevan to kill Millithor Lythrana. Tar, I would like you to go along, too. She's pregnant, and it sounds like she's far enough along that there's a chance to save the child. Greyanna requested that the child be cut out and burned before the body is brought to her."

"Got it," Tar said. "I assume we are keeping the child?"

"That was my thought, yes." Imryne smiled. "If you're willing to go."

Her wife's grin was sharp. "Willing. I will take the child out carefully and then make a mess of her, like I was a warrior cutting it out."

"I suspected you would be. Thank you, Tar. This needs to happen tonight, so I suppose you all should leave soon." Imryne's stomach was beginning to flutter again, and she swallowed. "Zyn knows the details and is working on getting uniforms in Jenn colors."

They started talking plans and possibilities, and Imryne sat with the stone staff, occasionally offering ideas but mostly listening. Nervousness was becoming fear, and she was fighting hard not to let it show.

Come back home, all of you. Come back home safe.



(Tarithra, in House Millithor)

"I see what the money is for," Ilfryn muttered.

They were standing at one of the walls of House Millithor, cloaked well and under the cloaks wearing the colors of House Jenn'Yxir. Ilfryn had been muttering to himself for a little while, inspecting the walls while Tar, Zyn and Jevan stood guard. Jevan had been darkened up for the occasion, still looking very strange to Tar's eyes. Tar was wearing her sharpest knives on a harness she'd had made for her when she was much younger, and she shifted and felt the leather dig in under her breasts. Her body had changed shape when she'd had Faeryl, and she hadn't had the harness adjusted. She was going to have to remember to have that done, she thought.

Ilfryn pointed at the wall. "They are protecting the walls against magic and stop people from transporting in and out. Fortunately, they are not done. This section of wall is just wall, so I am going to open up a transport to the main house." He spoke seven sharp words and Tar's stomach twisted as the space in front of him shuddered and opened. He paused, and then motioned at the gate.

Zyn stepped through, and Jevan was on his heels. Two guards nearby died without a sound before they had a chance to shout, Jevan on one, Ilfryn on the other. Tar slipped ahead, all of her senses on high alert, her heart pounding. They crept along, locating the most heavily guarded corridor.

Jevan motioned at the three of them and pointed to the first set of guards. Then he was in motion, past those guards, moving so quickly he was almost a blur. The first set of guards turned, confused, and Tar, Zyn, and Ilfryn struck. The one Tar hit went down when a spell she cast stunned him, and then a swipe of her knife dispatched him. She looked up and saw Jevan easing a body to the ground. Next to him, three other bodies lay limp, bleeding their last.

"Ready?" Jevan asked.

Tar grinned. "Ready."

The door opened to a touch, and Jevan was inside. He moved unerringly towards his target; fortunately, the matron mother of Millithor was alone. Jevan's hand clapped over her mouth as she was taking in a breath to scream. She fought briefly and then went limp, feeling the edge of Jevan's knife at her throat.

Tar stepped into the room, barely noticing the paintings on the walls and the familiar directionless starlight that illuminated the large main room of the matron's apartments. Her attention was focused on the very pretty and heavily pregnant female whose eyes were darting around, panicked. She would probably be thinking that her captors would not want to kill her. She was far more valuable as a captive than dead.

So she thought, at least. "Dead first or after?" Zyn asked, his voice a harsh whisper.

She looked at Millithor Lythrana with a critical eye. "First is kinder."

Zyn nodded and moved with his usual economy, scarred face expressionless. His knife entered her chest with a solid thunk, and Lythrana's eyes went round with surprise before glazing over as she died. Jevan laid her down and Tar went to work, first tearing away the fabric of her dress and then cutting into her belly. She had limited time, she knew. The child was large enough that it would survive its mother's death by a very short time.

So she made a large, messy incision, working as quickly as she could, then extracted the child and slashed the cord, severing the child from the dead heart and stagnant blood of its mother. The child, a good-sized girl, didn't cry at first, but after Tar turned her upside down and gave her a good spank to rid her of the fluid in her mouth and lungs, she did give a thin, high wail that grew stronger by the second.

Jevan was hacking into Lythrana's body, and by the time Tar had the baby wrapped in both a cloth and a silence spell, they were ready to go. Out the nearest window they went, wafting down to the ground and scurrying back to House Melrae.

They were met in the set by Imryne, who had evidently been pacing ever since they had left. She had a look to her that Tar didn't like. She turned too quickly, and her mouth was pressed too tightly closed. Her hands shook, just slightly. And there was a light burning in her wife's eyes that Tar distrusted, having seen it before.

Circumstances had been pushing Imryne hard. But there was no time to sit her down, to cosset and pet her and find out if this was the time that Imryne was going to break, finally and for good.

"The baby's all right," Tar said. "I'll clean her up."

"Give her to Jaelryn," Imryne said. Her hands clenched and unclenched, seemingly of their own will.

Zyn stepped forward. "Can't give you more than a third of an hour. Any longer and they will start to flee the compound. Once they find her, they will know what's coming and run."

Imryne nodded sharply. "Ilfryn, please change Jevan back to himself. I will make a visit to House Millithor."

Dismissing the change on Jevan took Ilfryn a few moments and a murmured word. Then it was out the window with Imryne and Jevan, and Tar saw him scoop Imryne up in his arms and fly towards Millithor.

Zyn left, presumably to gather the warriors. Tar was left with Ilfryn, exchanging worried glances. "She looks--"

Tar shook her head. "Don't say it. If it happens, it happens." She looked down at the baby in her arms. "I should wash you off, little one." The child was squirming, protesting her rudely rushed entrance into the world. Her eyes, open now, were a pale purple, and her dark skin was flushed and damp with birth water and blood.

There was a soft sound behind them, and Tar turned. Faeryl's door was open, and she peeked around the frame shyly. "Mama? Why do you have a baby?"

Tar looked at her daughter, and raised a finger to her mouth. "Ssh. Go back to bed, little one. It's only a dream."

"But Mama--"

"Bed, Faeryl. Now."

Faeryl squeaked and retreated, her door closing. "I think I'll go wash this one off before any of the other children get curious," Tar said.

Ilfryn nodded. "Probably wise. Can I help?"

"Of course." Tar smiled, and freed one hand to pull him close and kiss him. They went to the bathing room to give the small, nameless new daughter of a house that was about to be extinguished her first bath, and take her to the woman who would raise her as her own.



(Imryne, in House Millithor)

"I am of House Melrae. You have exactly one chance to live out the period, and that is to open the gate and take me to your matron mother," Imryne told the guard on the gate of House Millithor, a young male with pale eyes and shaking hands.

His voice was quavering. "She just died. I don't know anymore." But he opened the gate, letting Imryne in, Jevan at her shoulder.

Imryne paused, just inside the gate. "Who is in charge here now?"

"Urlryn, first daughter." His breath caught. "Only daughter."

"Take me to her, now," Imryne ordered. The young guard obeyed without thought, leading Imryne through the outer house into the inner, right into the matron's apartments.

Millithor Urlryn was crouched over the body of her mother, crying, calling out to Ellistraee to bring her back. Imryne saw the mess that had been made of Lythrana's belly, the empty, surprised eyes. The room was ringed with people, muttering, crying, mourning. A male knelt near Lythrana's body, his eyes closed, shuddering in pain.

Imryne's voice snapped out. "Millithor Urlryn. If you want your House to survive the night, you had best listen to what I say."

Urlryn's head came up, and took a startled breath. "What? Who are you?"

"Imryne, representative of House Melrae. I am sorry I did not get here in time to prevent the Jenn from killing your mother. I have bought you some time before the Jenn come to finish the job they started. You need to trust me, and come with me. And if you need reason to trust me, there is this." Imryne held out her hand, and in it was the four sections of the staff. "Form," she said quietly, and the staff moved of its own accord, snapping together. "I believe you know what this is, and why it works for me."

She looked at the staff for a few breaths, then transferred her gaze to Imryne. She was thin, built like a boy, her face with its tilted eyes torn by grief. "Very well, House Melrae. What do we do?"

"Gather your people and any valuables you can carry," Imryne said, her voice harsh. "Our House's warriors will burn this place. We will need your people to flee out into the city, and come in to Melrae in ones and twos. Our warriors will take your mother's body. We will offer you shelter, and your lives."

Urlryn stood, and there was a look of determination in her eyes that would have made Imryne smile if she had been within her own House. She raised her voice. "Everybody move, and spread the word. House Melrae, as quickly as you can. Thank you, Imryne." She turned and went to a cabinet, opening it and sweeping the contents into a bag, glittering jewelry in metals and gems. "We will get the Jenn for this insult," she said. "Will you help us?"

"I was planning on it," Imryne said, almost smiling. "Do remember that it was your house's actions that caused them to suspect you, however."

Urlryn took a breath, and nodded. "We had to try. Goddess. We had to try. Mother paid the price. At least we all won't."

Imryne judged it best to leave then, knowing that Zyn was coming with the house's guards, and she had best not be in Millithor when they arrived. In the house, pacing, waiting, she smelled the smoke from Millithor burning.

The first refugees arrived soon after, and Gaussaria in her role as house steward was very busy finding places for all of them. All night long, people from Millithor came in ones and twos and threes, and before opening bell Zyn and the guard returned. "We were forced to kill a few stragglers, but the thing is done," he told Imryne when he came to her set. "The body is in the front courtyard. As is most of the wealth of House Millithor. Abburth was generous."

"I'm sure," Imryne said. There were unfamiliar voices in the air in the inner house, females and males and children. She thought of Urlryn, who she had seen clinging to a door frame, eyes staring sightlessly. "There are about forty-five refugees here. Urlryn is Lythrana's only known living child, and her only heir. Can you collect Millithor symbols and give them Melrae?"

Zyn nodded and left to fulfill his sister's request. Imryne's breath came out of her in a soft sigh. "Are you all right, love?" Jevan asked.

She nodded distractedly. "I have to be." But her hands were shaking, and she could feel the dark water rising in her. "Filraen sent a message. It takes house blood to get through that lock into Xalyth. House blood, the door opens, non house blood, poison is injected. The poison ruptures the veins down the arm and explodes the heart. He suggested a vial with a stopper full of house blood to open the door. Chakos is working on something related to alteration spells. The components Filraen is gathering and grinding are probably workings of large polymorph spell." She paused, lifting her hand to her temple to rub it. "I think we have most of the components for a plan to get Chakos out. Now we need to figure out how to blame it on Freth a bit more conclusively."

"It might be enough that they are really the only ones that know he is alive, but we can see if we can come up with something more," Jevan said.

"We can think about it. I can contact Sorn and see if he can gather a vial of blood."

Jevan nodded. "Might be difficult and take some time for him to do so but if he can then we can see if we can eliminate house Freth before they rebuild too much."

Her hands were still shaking, and all the willing in the world could not get them to stop. "I'm hoping that he can. I have an excuse to get in to see him now, at least."

"Let's hope he is willing to do it. You may have to promise him something," he said.

"We can't get him out, but we can make things easier," she said. "Maybe give him a disease to give him a break for a few days, maybe bring in some healing supplies if he needs them. Might make things a little more bearable for a time. I hate to think of what he's needing to do to survive, in there. He isn't my favorite brother, but I still love him."

"I understand. I don't want to know either," Jevan said. "Greyanna this morning with the body? Or later?"

"This morning, I need to get this over with."

Jevan came over to put his arms around her. "I will get some extra guards to carry her, and meet you at the front gate."

He kissed her and then left. Imryne dropped down into the chaise, pulling her knees to her chest and dropping her head to her knees, just breathing for a moment. She heard a soft noise, a pair of feet moving, and then a familiar touch on her shoulder. It was Ilfryn.

Ilfryn knelt next to the chaise, putting his arm around her and kissing her hair. She raised her head. He was looking very worried. "I'm all right, Ilfryn. I think, at least. I'll get through this." I killed an allied house tonight, and my orders ended the life of a matron mother who might have been great, given time. She had saved her heir, and the lives that she could.

It was not much comfort.

"Let me know if we can do more," he said, his voice worried.

"I will. I just have to get through this meeting," she said. Ilfryn kissed her and let her go. She forced herself upright and went to get dressed.

A little while later, Imryne was in one of the reception rooms of House Xalyth, the body of Millithor Lythrana laid out on the table. Greyanna was in the room, in a dress a shade more formal than the one she had been wearing the night before, looking quite pleased.

"Millithor has been destroyed. I brought you the matron mother's body, as you requested." Imryne said, her voice formal and expressionless.

"Very well done." Greyanna stepped over to the table, reaching out to unwrap the cloth over Lythrana's face. She looked down at Lythrana's face, her empty eyes. "So pretty, but so stupid."

"Indeed," Imryne said. "We caught them in time; as far as we could tell, they had no allies in their treason."

Greyanna folded the cloth back over Lythrana's staring eyes. "That is good. Keep a tight watch out for Abburth people, in case they try to use the same drop point again."

"We will. I will be talking to Olorae, to see if further cooperation may be possible."

"Good. Again well done, any casualties on your side?" Greyanna asked. Her hands were in motion, thin fingers describing arcs over Lythrana's shrouded body.

Imryne shook her head. "No deaths, a few injuries. It was a very clean operation. We won the moment they saw who was attacking them, their spirit broke. A young house's downfall."

"Very nice." Greyanna smiled thinly. and her hands seemed pleased. "A stupid mother, ineffective Ellistraee warriors and an inferior goddess. In this city it just means death. Well, Imryne, I am sure your night has been long. I will not keep you. I will tell my mother of the news and show her the body. It will be burned and gotten rid of."

"Thank you, Greyanna. All respect to House Xalyth," Imryne said.

There was still that smile on Greyanna's face. "Thank you for your haste in this matter, House Melrae."

Imryne bowed shallowly and retreated, murmuring the Lloth words of leave-taking. She held herself stiffly upright all the way back to House Melrae, passing through the gates and the outer house, through the four heavy doors to the inner house, down the hallway and up the stairs to the set. A wind she could only hear and not feel was howling in her head as she felt the hard part of her fall away. There was so much to say, but the words were frozen in Imryne's throat, and everything felt strange. Her heart pounded, and the air seemed brittle and glass-edged. She passed Tar and Ilfryn without really seeing them, went into the bedroom, curled up on the bed.

The dark waters rose, and swallowed Imryne whole.



Tarithra, in House Melrae

Tar saw Imryne come in, body held stiffly, eyes staring into nothingness, and her stomach dropped. It dropped even farther when Imryne retreated to the bedroom without saying a word and collapsed on the bed, shaking. She looked like she was holding herself together by force of will alone. Imryne was followed by Jevan, who held worry in his blue eyes. Tar jumped up and went for her healing kit, looking for the euphorics that she kept hidden in the case, shoulders suddenly knotted.

"What's going on?" Jevan asked, his voice anxious.

"Imryne's going into one of her bad places," Tar said, pulling out her long, flat case and flipping through compartments.

Jevan glanced over his shoulder, back at the bedroom. Ilfryn was standing in the doorway, watching Imryne. "What happens? And why? She sort of explained it, but..."

Tar blew out a breath. Oh, there was the bottle. She raised it up and frowned to see that it was half empty; either she hadn't replenished her supply, or one of the children had found it. She curled her hand around the glass of the bottle, and looked at Jevan. "It's hard to talk about, for her. She has limits, and she's been pushing them a lot. She goes into these places in her mind that are really, really bad, where she can't stop crying and she thinks she deserves pain and death. She usually tries to kill herself once per episode. It's been a few years since the last one, I guess she's about due, and it's been a rough few weeks for her. As for why...as far as she's ever told me, she's had these attacks since she was young, but they got really bad about fifty years ago."

"Something to do with Ryld?"

She nodded. "I think so. From what she said, I think she thought she'd failed somehow when Ryld was born wrong, and, well, our Imryne's very prone to feeling guilty about things. And afterwards, after the memories were taken, things that got her close to remembering Ryld triggered the attacks."

He nodded, seeming to understand. "And she forced it away and became harder."

"Yes. That, I think, was when she started having the split in her personality you've probably noticed a bit of."

He glanced at Imryne again. "The hard outside Imryne and the more gentle one here. When the gentle one gets overloaded by the harder one, she has to let it release, but she does so this way. What do you normally do to help her back?"

"We hold her, make love to her when she lets us, feed her enough euphorics to choke a rothe. We don't dare leave her alone even for a few seconds, one of us is always there and awake with her. She doesn't usually sleep during her episodes," she said, and made a face. "She can get very inventive about finding things to hurt herself with."

Jevan took a breath. "Tar, I have an idea, but you will have to trust me. Can you send word to Triel about Imryne and tell her that we all will be gone for a time? Ilfryn, can you get us to the surface?"

Ilfryn turned, looking startled. "To, yes, back today, no."

He nodded. "Set it up, if you would."

"I can send a message, how long will we be gone?" Tar asked. Ilfryn was looking at Tar, an eyebrow raised questioningly.

"I hope we will be back before next council," Jevan said. "How long do they normally last?"

"Anywhere between ten and twenty days. Forty, right after the birth of a child." To Ilfryn, she said, "If Jevan thinks he can help her, I think we need to give it a try." Because Goddess knows that anything that might help would be welcome, even if we have to go to the surface for it.

"Tell Triel seven days, maybe more," Jevan said.

Tar looked at him, and frowned. "Are you going to tell us where we're going?"

"Home, my home."

She curled her hand a little more tightly around the bottle in her hand. "I'll tell her we'll be on the surface and listening for messages," she said.

Jevan smiled slightly. "Thank you, Tar. Even if this doesn't work, we are no worse off."

"And if there's a chance this might get better, I'll take it. Nobody should have to live like Imryne does, always wondering when your own mind is next going to ambush you. Stay with her, I'll be right back." Ilfryn had stepped into his workshop, and as Tar rose and went to the door, she saw Jevan go into the bedroom and sit down on the bed next to Imryne, reaching out to touch her hair. Tar's heart almost broke when she saw Imryne flinch away from Jevan's hand, curling more tightly into herself.

Tar walked swiftly down the halls and to the matron's apartments. The guards let her in without question; she was well known in this house as Imryne's wife. Triel was still in her robe; it was not yet quite time for first meal. Her hair was undressed, falling in a curling mass to her ankles. She met Tar in the front room of her apartments. "Tarithra, it has been too long since you have visited," Triel said.

Triel was nice, which was the unnerving thing about her. She was sweet and kind and gentle and had a mind as sharp as any legendary sword, and was utterly ruthless--but only when she needed to be. "My lady," Tar said, bowing her head in respect. "I hate to tell you this, but...Imryne's having one of her episodes. Jevan thinks he knows someone who can help, but she's on the surface. We're going to take her up there. I wanted to tell you, so you didn't think we'd kidnapped your daughter."

"I would have worried. but kidnap, I doubt it," Triel said. She did look worried now, fingering a ring on her left hand. "Let's hope Jevan can help. Good luck, Tar."

"Thank you," Tar said. "We'll be gone for a few days, but we hope to be back by the next council meeting."

"Good, I can stall them until then."

"Thank you, lady," Tar said. "I should go."

Triel smiled faintly. "Take care of her."

"We'll do our best," Tar said. She sketched a bow, and then turned away. But she did not miss the worried look on Triel's face as she did so, a deep sadness underlying it.

Ilfryn was ready to go when she returned, and Jevan almost effortlessly picked up Imryne, her long body stiff in his arms. Her eyes were open, but she didn't seem to see anything, and she was struggling a little. Tar collected her healing kit and Ilfryn opened the first door.

Six doors later, they were on the surface. The sun was going down, but it was still in the sky and all of the drow flinched. Imryne cried out and hid her face. "Are you all right to walk alone for a bit?" Jevan asked Tar and Ilfryn as he adjusted his grip on Imryne. She struggled again, seeming to try to fold up on herself.

"Yes, as long as you tell us where we're going," Tar said.

"Follow the sun--well, go in the direction the sun's setting--for one hour. You will come to a lake shore, turn right and follow that for maybe ten minutes," he said. "You will find a house on the shore under a lot of willow trees. You know what a willow looks like?" Jevan asked, as if suddenly realizing that they had no use for the names of trees in stone. "A tree that droops its branches down instead of up. I will be back before then, likely."

"I think I'll know one when I see it," Tar said. "We'll find our way."

"It's a pretty safe area," Jevan said. He shifted his grip on Imryne again, getting her supported on one shoulder, and then lifted off from the ground. Tar grabbed Ilfryn's hand and began walking towards where the sun was setting, shading her eyes. Jevan paused in his flight, looking down at them. "Thank you both for trusting me," he said. "I love her very much. I love you too, Tar."

He flew off without waiting for a response. Despite everything, Tar bounced a little, grinning. "That's the first time he's admitted that one."

Ilfryn glanced over at her. He had worry-lines at the corners of his mouth. "Do you?" he asked.

"Yep. Wasn't expecting to end up loving him, but I do," she said, smiling. "I'm really glad Imryne brought him in."

He squeezed her hand, and they started walking once more. "I think so, too. He pleases you both."

So they walked together in the surface world, desperately worried, cautiously hopeful.



(Imryne, in dark water)

"Hold on, love, help isn't far."

Mother, mother, help--

Flash of sky. Sky? There was no sky in Fanaedar.

"I love you too, Tar."

There is no sky in Fanaedar...

I've failed, over and over again...her death, my fault, my orders, mother I'm not strong enough for this, I am far too worthless and weak for this task you've given me.

Voices howled and sharp fingers prodded. Someone had her in a firm grip. She was flying. Then she wasn't moving. There was a hurried, hushed conversation. A fire, flickering. Warmth. Blankets wrapped around her.

Mother I'm not strong enough I can't fight this I'm so sorry.

There was a hand on her hair. Stroking. She dragged her eyes open and a female swam into focus. Brown skin, light hair, eyes blue like Jevan's. She stared, uncomprehending. Where was she?

"Hush, Imryne." The female's voice was kind. "Hush, close your eyes. Go to sleep."

Her eyes were obedient to the female, even if the rest of her had doubts. They closed. The female started singing a melody Imryne didn't recognize, softly.

Mother I'm so sorry.

The darkness came, and swallowed her again.



(Tarithra, on the surface)

There was a dark flash overhead, and Jevan landed lightly beside Tar. The sun had finished going down, but the sky was still afire with coruscating colors. A cold wind was blowing towards them, and both Tar and Ilfryn were shivering. "She is with my mother," Jevan said. "I explained the situation quickly. I told them she was my wife and Tar is, too. Ilfryn, I told them you are their husband. Mother quickly digested it." He made a face. "Father not so much, but he will be polite. My sister is young, she doesn't care. Mother can help Imryne, I think. She helped me."

Tar tilted her head. "Helped you with what?"

"My first time in the underdark, I came back up different," he said, grimacing. "Like Imryne. Split, more wild than elven. Less emotion, less guilt. Quick to anger and ruthless. Mother gave me back a part of myself, and so did Imryne. That part of me is still there, but the right half is in control, not the wrong half."

Fascinated, Tar asked, "So you think your mother can do the same for Imryne?"

"That's my hope. She, like me and my grandmother, is different. But my grandmother and I, from what I understand, have the same gift. Hers is vastly different."

"What's hers?" Tar asked.

Jevan smiled faintly. "She heals the mind. It doesn't always work, but my people come to her when other clerics have failed."

"Well, hopefully she can help Imryne. You're right, it's worth a try, at least," Tar said. They had come to a clearing, and ahead of them the land sloped away to a lake. Tar stopped for a moment, despite the wind that was now sending icy knives through Tar's wholly inadequate clothing. She watched the lake, and how it reflected and changed the colors of the sky above, fading into colors of blue and purple she wasn't sure she knew the names of. "Is it always cold like this up here?"

"It's autumn. It'll start raining soon," he said. "Come on, the house is just over here."

It was a large house, set among gracefully drooping trees on a rise over the lake. It looked like many of the walls would open to the outside in the summer; now, they were covered with shutters. Jevan escorted them inside, introduced them to his mother Nendra, his father Dantrag, and his young sister Zesstra. Tar raised her eyebrows at Nendra's name; evidently both Triel and Khaless had liked the name. Dantrag was very polite, though a bit chilly, and Zesstra hid behind her mother and peeked silently at the visitors.

Tar tried very hard to be polite and remember her elven manners, and Ilfryn, from the way every word he said was even more cautious and calm than usual, was trying to do the same. Jevan, after introductions, escorted Tar and Ilfryn to the room he'd had as a child, and helped his father carry in another bed. They would be able to push them together later, for sleeping. Nendra came in through the open door, and sat down at the edge of one of the beds.

Her skin was much darker than Jevan's, and her hair was a very light blonde. If Khaless had looked anything like her daughter, Tar thought, she could see why Triel had fallen in love with her. She was tall, with a lush figure and features that seemed halfway between the sharpness of drow and the softness of elves. "Ilfryn, yes? Tar, that is your name?" Nendra asked. "Or is that short for something?"

"Tarithra, but hardly anyone calls me that," Tar said.

"It's Nendra, or Mother," she said. "I prefer Mother, but I understand if that's strange."

Tar blinked, a confused welter of mixed feelings abruptly rising in her. "It is, a little. But we'll manage. My own mother's been dead for a bit, now. Do you think you can help Imryne?"

Nendra tilted her head a little, and it almost took Tar's breath away to see how much the motion reminded her of Jevan. He did the same thing when he was about to say something he wasn't sure if the listeners were going to want to hear. "Maybe. She has a war going on inside. Part of her has awakened that was dead for a long time. It's fighting the part that was alive for control."

She shivered a little, and reached for Ilfryn's hand. It was too close to things she'd talked to Ilfryn about in the past, too close to her own observations of Imryne's behavior. "Can those parts coexist, or does one of them have to win?"

"They can coexist, and should. The part that needs to win here is the one awakening," Nendra said. "There is something more going on, but it's too soon to tell."

"What sort of something more?" Tar asked, worried.

"I can feel the work of Ellistraee," Nendra said. "The staff she carries. She just got it?"

Tar nodded. "Yes, yesterday. It has her name on it, which is a little strange, but I figure it could just be the goddess calling her in a way she can't ignore this time."

"It is. She was supposed to follow that path, but turned from it."

Tar frowned, a little. "She mentioned once, long ago, that she had considered going into the priesthood, but she never felt her faith was pure enough. She tried to be a mage, but she honestly isn't very good at it. And she doesn't think she's a good enough person to be a priestess, no matter what I try to tell her."

Nendra looked thoughtful. "Partly, I think this is an episode triggered by Jevan and Ryld being alive, and partly by whatever recent events have troubled her so much, but I think mostly it's being triggered by Ellistraee."

"Ellistraee is doing this to her?" Tar said. "Trying to kill her, or cure her?"

"Cure, I am sure," Nendra said with a gentle smile. "I am going to need some help. What I want to do is a ritual we call Star Dance."

"Anything," Tar said immediately. "What do we need to do for this ritual?"

"You, me, Ilfryn, Jevan, and Zesstra. We will place Imryne is a sacred spot and then we perform a ritual under the stars. If it works right, the stars will rain part of themselves down into wooden bowls. That liquid, while it may not cure her permanently, will resolve the situation this time," she said. "And with the doses you get, it will help her for a long time to come, shortening these episodes considerably. The only true cure is for her not to have to call on that darker side of her nature."

"I don't think not calling on that part of herself is going to be possible for a long time, but maybe some day," Tar said, grimacing. "I'm willing to do whatever it takes to help. Zesstra's a little young to be participating in ritual, isn't she?"

Nendra's mouth curved a little bit. "It's a different kind, naked dancing mostly. You three will be the ones making love to Imryne to end the ritual."

Tar took a breath. "That sounds good," she said, flashing a smile. "So, when do we start?"

"The sooner the better. Half an hour," Nendra said. She got up and came over to Tar, pulling her into a hug. That hug brought tears to Tar's eyes. It was like being hugged by her own mother, and Tar suddenly missed her mother, dead these twenty cycles, very, very much. Nendra released her and hugged Ilfryn, who looked startled but quickly enough relaxed into the hug. "I'll go prepare," the elf said after she released Ilfryn.

A little while later, Tar had found Imryne, lying on her back on a mat in front of a fire in the kitchen. Her eyes were closed, and only the fact that her breathing was a little odd told Tar that she wasn't asleep. She had never seen Imryne this calm in an episode, ever. She was used to the screaming and fighting, not this silence. It was eerie.

Tar slid her hand into Imryne's, picking it up and curling her own hand around the familiar and beloved fingers, scarred just as Ilfryn's were with the legacy of learning how to be a mage. The inner part of the arm was scarred, too. The scars might be mistaken for roughened skin, if you didn't know. Even sleeping or close to it, Imryne looked tired. It'll get better, honey, she thought. It has to.

She looked up as Nendra came into the kitchen. She came over to sit down on the floor next to Tar, looking into Imryne's face, studying it briefly. Tar wondered what she saw. "Is she really asleep?" she asked.

Nendra nodded. "Close enough. I slowed down her functions to the point that she can't do much else. Hibernation might be a better word."

"Well, it's better than us having to hold her down so she doesn't hurt herself."

"Much better. I assume this was much worse longer ago?" Nendra asked.

Tar wondered how she knew, if whatever she had done to Imryne had let her see the scarring in her mind, or if she'd seen the scars on her arms and deduced that there must be worse damage elsewhere. "I think the worst I've seen was after Challay was born, but from what she's said the worst time was after she thought Ryld died, fifty years ago. Before then, you'd have to ask her mother." She paused, took a soft breath in. "Ryld was her son, her first. Sparked by Jevan. He was born wrong, and he sickened and died, so she thought."

This didn't seem to surprise Nendra. "She broke, right there. This should help, and if you can ever manage it, she will fully heal when she doesn't have to be that other part." She paused, looking at Tar with those blue eyes that looked so much like Jevan's. "You are pregnant, aren't you?"

"Pretty sure I am, it's very early yet," Tar said.

"You are, I am sure," Nendra said. "Ilfryn's or Jevan's?"

"Jevan," she said. "I'm hoping, if the mixing of blood makes the child wrong, to be able to heal it so it's all right once it's born."

Nendra shook her head. "Only one in a hundred is born right if left alone. Khaless was one such child. But she wanted children, and when forced above she asked Ellistraee for them. Ellistraee showed her Star Dance. Khaless performed it centuries ago, and until tonight it's never been done again. I had enough from my mother left over to birth both Jevan and Zesstra."

"So the liquid will also help mixed blood children be born right?" Tar asked, sitting straighter and holding onto Imryne's hand hard.

"It will." Nendra was looking not at Tar but at Imryne. Imryne's hair was tangled; it would take a lot of work to untangle when she woke. "It will take their bodies that would be formed wrong and straighten them," Nendra continued. "It will enhance their gift. It will heal things that are wrong with them. It will heal things in general, which is why we do it for Imryne tonight." She paused, and glanced at Tar. "I know that drow are less likely to know their fathers. You don't happen to know Imryne's?"

Tar shrugged. "As far as I know, there are at least four candidates. She's got no idea which of her mother's husbands at the time sparked her. Why?"

"She seems more like Jevan than a true drow. I thought maybe she was a ritual baby. but it sounds like not."

She looked down at Imryne, seeing her fingers wrapped around her hand. Imryne's skin was a few shades lighter than hers. "Hunh. She'd have to ask her mother. Goddess knows I'm not that brave. She's never displayed any talents like Jevan's, though, and she's had a couple of children with Ilfryn who were all right. Imryne did mention that her mother knew Khaless, centuries ago."

Nendra raised an eyebrow. "Was her mother the one that helped her escape?"

Tar thought back, trying to remember what exactly Imryne had said. "Yes, but that was all she really said about it, other than that Khaless was a member of the family that founded the city."

"Fanaedar. My mother told me stories. How Xalyth drove them from the city and took their house." She smiled a small, secretive smile. "But not all the secrets. Do you think Imryne would mind me borrowing the staff?"

"Can't see why she would. Careful, though, using it takes the wind right out of you."

"I wouldn't doubt it." Nendra stood and gathered up the pieces of the staff, which were lying on the table next to the bed. with a word she formed the pieces into a staff, then took Tar's free hand and wrapped it around the staff, her own hand on top. Am image formed in the air, a small version of house Xalyth. Then it was if the skin of the building was stripped off, the floors resolving into lines, a sketch of the house that seemed strangely naked. "Mother told me that the house held secrets, it's here. Xalyth is riddled with tunnels in the walls. It's how she got out." Tar's eyes were wide, and she could see several tunnels already that went to places that might be useful. "The clerics sealed the walls with spells that will only open to one of us. I doubt Xalyth knows."

"I'm sure they don't. Fanatical spider worshipers, they are. Is there a way to get in and out of the lower levels through these tunnels?"

"The old Fanaedar burial cave, is where it goes." Nendra gestured, and part of the sketch lit up, down at the bottom. "There, sealed the same way. I doubt Xalyth has found that either."

"Well, look at that," she said, marveling. "We may be able to give Xalyth a very bad surprise, one of these days. This is maybe more useful than you realize. Thank you."

"Quite welcome. Shall we get going, daughters?" Nendra asked.

"The sooner the better. Mother." Tar smiled, and Nendra's hand tightened on hers briefly.

Jevan carried Imryne out, and they walked for a little bit to a clearing hat held the feeling of ritual about it. It was not the ritual grounds that they met with the local grounds at, but it still felt sacred, actively so.

Imryne was laid on the ground with blankets under and over her, pillowing her head. They had taken her dress off, and stripped down themselves. Nendra walked them through the ritual, once and then twice, and then they set out bowls around the outside of their circle and began for real.

Like all Ellistraee rituals, this one began with a silent dance; then, Nendra led the chant. The sky above was full of stars, and the light they shed was trembling and silver. It felt like the trees themselves bent in close to listen.

Their voices played off of one another, Ilfryn's tenor counterpoint to Jevan's deeper voice, Tar and Nendra's voices holding the midrange while Zesstra, in her high, childish voice, occupied the high end all by herself. They danced around Imryne's prone, silent form, each of them pausing once in a while to reach down and brush their hands against her hair, her face, her breasts. It took an hour to complete the whole ceremony, and when their voices finally fell silent and their bodies stopped moving, Tar's blood was loud in her ears as she prayed.

Please, Goddess, we need help.

There was a plink behind Tar, a drop of liquid splashing against metal. Then another to her side. Then another and another all around them, rain falling from the starlit sky, shimmering silver with reflected light.

The rain lasted perhaps a hundred heartbeats before it slowed, then ceased. Nendra made a slow circle of the perimeter, where the rain had collected in the bowls. Zesstra was watching her mother, her eyes bright. "Twenty bowls. More than the last time it was performed. I think Ellistraee is pleased." She paused and looked up, her smile soft. "Each bowl will give you a dose. Give one to Imryne and take one yourself, Tar. Then finish the ritual. Zesstra and I will be going. She is still a bit young to watch."

"We will. Thank you, so much." Tar watched Nendra drape a cloak around her daughter's slight shoulders and lead her away. Then she turned to where Imryne was lying in the center of the circle. She stooped to pick up a bowl and carried it to her wife, kneeling. "Jevan and Ilfryn, could you sit Imryne up for me? I think I can get her to drink."

The two males did so, Ilfryn supporting Imryne's head, Jevan with his arm around her shoulders. Both of them looked anxious. "All right, baby, drink a little of this for me. A little at a time..." She set the bowl to Imryne's slack lips, pouring a little bit of the liquid into her mouth.

Imryne's lips twitched, and then she swallowed. She took a breath, then a deeper one, and her eyelids fluttered open.

"Tar?"


(Imryne, on the surface)

"It's all right, Imryne," Tar said, looking profoundly relieved. "Drink the rest of this, honey."

The liquid in the bowl that was pressed to her lips had a vaguely metallic, salty flavor, and as Imryne swallowed, a strange feeling was suffusing her, a warm, sweet lethargy that very quickly began to turn into a tightening in her groin and a heat in her belly. She was on the surface, her lovers were surrounding her, and when she finished drinking she reached for Tar with one hand, pulling her down for a hard kiss.

"Mmm. You play with one of the boys, I'll be right back," Tar murmured after she broke the kiss. She got up and scrambled away, but Imryne didn't see where she went. The scent of her lovers was surrounding her, and she reached out. Ilfryn's shoulder was under her questing hand, and she curled her fingers around him and pulled him down, the heat in her suddenly filling her whole being.

A moment later, as Imryne found herself tangled between Ilfryn and Jevan, Tar returned and wriggled into the center of the pile. All of them were naked, the ground was relatively soft, and though the air was cold Imryne could barely feel it. Imryne found herself wrapped around Ilfryn, breathing hard, and as he bent his head to kiss and then bite her neck, she dug her fingers into his shoulders and then moved her hands lower, wordlessly urging him onward.

Time seemed to slow, and then almost stop, as the effects of whatever the liquid was that Tar had given Imryne fully took effect. She felt like she was made of that liquid, wrapping around Ilfryn, closing her eyes and feeling him enter her, pleasure washing over her like a wave. She heard Tar's gasps, glanced over to see her astride Jevan, head thrown back, eyes closed. Glorious-- was Imryne's only thought before Ilfryn moved and she lost the ability to think coherently.

So familiar, so dear, so close ah, Goddess, Goddess she tensed and her toes curled as a wave of release came over her unexpectedly, gasp inward and breath released in a cry that began low but rose rapidly as her whole body clenched and shuddered, as she felt Ilfryn harden even more inside her and breathe out with a hoarse moan, burying his face in the place where her neck met her shoulder.

It sounded, beside her, like Tar and Jevan had just reached the same conclusion, and Imryne glanced over again to see Tar lying atop Jevan, her eyes closed and a happy smile on her face. Imryne took a breath, and Tar opened her eyes.

The fire had not been assuaged by Imryne's first bout of lovemaking, and from how Tar's pupils expanded in the starlight, she was in much the same state. Imryne shifted, moving partially out from under Ilfryn as he rolled to the side, and reached for Tar. She loved the smell of her when she had just finished orgasming, a sweet musk that had just the faintest tang of her sweat to it, blood and salt. They kissed each other and Imryne traced a path with her tongue, down her neck, down the obsidian skin over her breasts and belly and lavishing attention on each breast, each small, crinkled nipple.

Then she slid down farther, kissing her stomach and her navel, sliding down even farther where the white hair curled around the slick portal that smelled richly of Tar and Jevan commingled. Tar gasped as Imryne slid a finger then two inside of her, her mouth fastening on the hard nubbin that her questing tongue had found.

Tar was usually very responsive, but now she seemed even more so. She pressed her hips upward, after a very short period of time crying out her release. But Imryne had no intention of letting her off so easily. She knew that Tar, as orgasm piled on top of orgasm, got more and more sensitive until it seemed to take only the very whisper of breath across her skin to send her into shuddering climax.

Her wife was not complaining, not one bit. After a bit, though, she curled her body upwards, taking Imryne's shoulders in her hands and pulling her upwards. "My turn," she said with a grin. "Lie down, baby."

Imryne was quick to obey, and Tar was even quicker to slip down and ease the ache in Imryne's nethers that had been building as she had enjoyed her wife. Time slowed again as she concentrated on the pleasure, the fire that traced its way through her body and along her skin. As the pleasure built in her, she felt another body next to her. From the texture of the skin and the muscle underneath, it was Jevan. Tar made a startled noise and paused for a moment, and Imryne raised her head to see Ilfryn behind Tar, one hand on her hip and the other busy between her legs.

She took a sharp breath. "You recovered," she murmured as she pulled Jevan closer, then gasped as Tar resumed her ministrations.

Jevan chuckled. "How could we not, with such a sight before us?" And then Imryne was swept away as Tar hit exactly the right spot at the right time, and all she knew was pleasure, shuddering as Jevan shifted to hold her.

So it went on like that, changing configurations, sometimes three focusing on one of the others, sometimes pairing off, ending in a complicated four-person configuration that was only possible because Jevan was very strong, Tar was very light, and Ilfryn and Imryne were both tall. Arousal and pleasure seemed to pass between them like water running through their bodies, communicating itself like light, like music.

Finally, the urgency seemed to wear off, departing them. Imryne had her head on Jevan's chest, Ilfryn curled on her other side, Tar draped across all three of them. She was going to be very sore later, but she didn't care. The sky was getting light. "Dawn is coming," Jevan said quietly. "We should get inside."

They picked up the bowls that for some reason were scatted around the perimeter of the ritual circle, pouring the contents into bottles that had been left nearby. Then Jevan led them away, heading down a long slope towards a lake.

On the way back, the others gave Imryne the summary of what had happened. Imryne had had an episode--that much she remembered, at least the beginning--and Jevan had thought his mother could help. They were staying with his parents up on the surface, and it had been only an ilit since she had started the episode.

She was astonished, trying to think back to the scattered memories she had since she had come back to the house after displaying Millithor Lythrana's body to Greyanna. There had been a woman, an elf, who she thought had been a dream. "I don't remember much, but...Jevan, that elf who was sitting by me is your mother, right?"

"Yes, that's Nendra, my mother," Jevan said.

Imryne felt her shoulders bow. "I owe her, quite a bit. This is more than I ever dreamed of asking for."

"She said it won't go away until we are done with this down below, one way or the other, but this will help resolve the problem more quickly." He smiled briefly. "And help Tar with the baby."

Ah, that was what Tar had been off doing. "So this should help the baby be born right, then? And you're officially pregnant, Tar?"

Tar grinned and bounced on the balls of her feet, which made other parts of her move quite appealingly. "So says our elven mother."

Imryne raised an eyebrow. "Our elven mother? She certainly accepted us quickly."

Jevan chuckled. "Not much choice, really. Tar is having her grandchild."

Imryne smiled, and it felt so good to be able to smile, to not be lost in despair, that the smile grew into a grin. Another baby around will be good, she thought. She had enjoyed all of the children when they were small, immensely. "True enough. Well, I'm looking forward to meeting her when I'm not, ah...not myself."

He pointed his chin at the house that they could see now, as they rounded a corner. "Now is a good time."

There was an woman waiting outside the house, with dark skin, light hair, and Jevan's light blue eyes. His mother. Had Jevan said her name was Nendra? The same as Imryne's youngest sister. Nendra held out her arms, and without thought or volition Imryne stepped into her arms, enfolding her into a hug. "Thank you," she murmured with heartfelt gratitude.

"Any time, daughter." Nendra stepped back, held her at arm's reach for a moment, looking at her. Imryne wondered what she saw.

"I wish my mother could meet you. Some day, maybe."

She smiled gently. "Some day, when you rule the city, I will come down."

Imryne chuckled. The thought of her ruling the city was a little remote right now. "That'll be a long time from now, if it ever happens."

"It will. Ellistraee wouldn't have given you that staff is she didn't think so," Nendra said, her voice firm.

Surprised, she stiffened. "Is that what she was trying to tell me?"

"I think so, but you can call it coincidence if you like." She reached out to stroke Imryne's hair. "I think you get to be the chosen one, here. Just my opinion, but I think that is what she meant. Star Dance, the last time, produced four doses. You got five times that. And a staff with your name on it in both drow and elven."

"It certainly sounds like it, doesn't it?" Imryne admitted, ruefully, even though something within her was protesting violently. All I ever wanted was to serve my mother and my goddess, live at peace with my family. "Well, I'm hoping I can live up to what she wants from me. I can only try."

Nendra's mouth was curved in a smile that was very reminiscent of Jevan's. "You have your family to help you, and me for refuge when you need it up here."

"Thank you," Imryne said, meaning it once again wholeheartedly. Knowing she had a place to go when he needed to retreat made the thought of the fight ahead easier. The sky was getting brighter, and Imryne squinted. "Can we go inside?"

"Certainly. I have made an elven breakfast that will probably make your stomach roll, but I don't have a lot of drow recipes," Nendra said.

"I'm sure it'll be fine," she said. And it was, though the food was strange, Jevan's father was silent, and his sister shyly peeked at them all though Tar mentioned under her breath that she had danced with them at ritual. Nendra fussed and fluttered, moving from guest to guest, touching them with soft hands and stroking their hair. It was an odd habit, but a pleasant one. Imryne and her spouses ate and then slept, woke when the sun went down again, went out in the chill of the evening to make love under the stars once again.

They needed the time away, Imryne to feel steadier on her feet, the rest of them to forget the troubles they faced for a little while. They stayed three more days, sleeping during the days and being awake during the nights, though as the days went on they were awake more during the daylight, their eyes beginning to adjust.

It was dawn of the fourth day when Nendra found Imryne standing on the shore of the lake, watching the sky change colors and the reflection of those colors in the water. It was so strange to have something other than stone to see when she looked up. Imryne doubted she would ever get used to it.

Nendra was wrapped in a thick cloak, walking with her feet crunching on the pebbles of the shore. "You could stay, you know," she said softly.

They had all been so happy here. Ilfryn had smiled more, Tar had been bubbly despite the edges of early pregnancy fatigue setting in. Jevan had seemed uncomfortable at first, but had relaxed after a day or so, and now seemed perfectly happy to be where he was. Imryne took a breath. "I know, but...my mother needs me. I can't run away from this, no matter how much it takes out of me." It was a truth, a painful one.

The other woman nodded. "Another sign, I think. You were chosen to do this. Come visit when you can, and bring me my grandbaby to see when she or he is born."

Imryne smiled. "I will. If nothing else, I may need to take refuge here for a few days when things get bad below."

"Good, and bring your own children if want. You and your family are always welcome."

She almost chucked at that, imagining Challay and Faeryl and Lesrak and their delight at being on the surface, at seeing the sky and trees with leaves on them and lakes that changed color with the light. "Thank you, Nendra. Mother."

"Good luck to you," Nendra said, and hugged Imryne. "I think Ilfryn is done setting up the transit spells."

Imryne turned towards the house, seeing her loves there; Ilfryn setting a last few things in place, Tar holding up one of the glass spheres he used for the transit spells and looking through the bubbled glass, Jevan standing by, watching silently with a small smile on his face. Her heart contracted painfully with love, and with longing.

Some day, we will live in peace, or I will give my life trying to bring it to you. I swear to you. All of you.





Here ends Book One of Imryne, of House Melrae.

Comments

[miryai.livejournal.com]

I love the ending to the first book... that it ends on the surface is very poignant.

*wonders at the geometry of the four-way* *grin*

[silenceleigh.livejournal.com]

Thank you. :)

I've left the geometry of the four-way as an exercise for the reader, mostly because I just didn't have the space to describe it fully. Think of kind of a cross between a cheerleader pyramid and a daisy chain, and remember the configuration that they ended up in afterwards.

(Hey, Imryne *said* it was improbable. :)

[dark-infidel.livejournal.com]

I can see it.... but Jevan would need to be _really_ strong.