Destiny

Against her better judgment, Kerian had obeyed his order to lead a company to survey Inath-Wakenti’s fitness as a new home for their people. The passage of her expedition through the desert had precipitated violence from the Khurish nomads, and its brief time in the valley had led to wholesale disappearances and a battle with a rare and vicious sand beast. In the end, far more questions had been raised than answered. For Kerian one fact had been made plain: the valley was no fit home for the elf nation.

Then had come her decision to depart the valley alone on Eagle Eye, after she received a vision of danger stalking Gilthas. He had survived, but their marriage nearly did not. He dismissed her as commander of his army for abandoning her warriors in Inath-Wakenti. Only eight were ever seen again. Gilthas’s archivist, Favaronas, was lost, as was Glanthon, brother of Planchet, the Speaker’s late bodyguard and close friend. According to the survivors, the company became lost in the desert, so Glanthon divided it into bands of ten and sent each in a different direction. Eight stumbled into the Khurish town of Kahn Ak-Phan; none of the others was ever seen again.

“What of you? What choice will you make today?” Gilthas asked.

“There is nothing to choose.”

“But you want to go.”

She didn’t answer, only shifted position on the rock and dipped her bare feet in the creek. That put her back to him. She wanted a bit of privacy, time to collect herself. The question of going or staying was one she had preferred not to address until absolutely necessary. The decision wasn’t a matter of head versus heart; that was a battle Kerianseray fought frequently. It was heart versus heart.

For much of her adult life, she had battled for the freedom of Qualinesti. She’d plotted and planned, fought and maneuvered to return home with an army behind her. Only the most extreme events had forced her to leave. Her desire to free their homeland had been the cause of a longstanding disagreement with Gilthas. She wanted to take the army back to Qualinesti. He wouldn’t allow it, saying that while the elves lived in exile in Khuri-Khan, the army could not be spared.

After many complex developments, it was going to happen. The army would march to Qualinesti, and the Lioness would not be with them. She must stay behind, in a place she loathed, carrying out a mission she felt in her heart to be utterly pointless. Yet no amount of railing against fate could change the single most important fact: she would not leave Gilthas while he was riddled with consumption and marooned in the lifeless cemetery of Inath-Wakenti. Strong as her ties to her warriors were, the tie to Gilthas was far more powerful.

“Go if you want.”

His attempt at a careless tone infuriated her, but still she didn’t reply, only looked beyond the wide, slow-flowing creek into the valley. The mist was evaporating, thinning to reveal stunted trees and the standing stones beyond them. Her keen ears detected no sounds at all. Even the noises made by the great mass of elves some distance behind them were swallowed up in the deathly stillness of Inath-Wakenti.

“Keri-li.” Gilthas used the most intimate form of her name. “I won’t allow my sickness to keep you here. Go to Qualinesti. Win it back for us.”

It was the final straw, his selfless offer of the one thing that could tempt her from his side. Shame washed over her, and pain clamped itself around her heart and would not be dislodged. For all their differences—and they were legion—she loved him still, and he might very well be dying.

As was usually the case with the Lioness, strong emotions manifested as anger and action. She came swiftly to her feet and stalked to him. With shocking ease, she hauled his wasted frame upright, her hands knotted in the front of his Khurish geb. His eyes widened in surprise.

“Hear me, Great Speaker! I am not going anywhere! Do you understand? You are cursed with me forever! We will cross this creek, battle ghosts and dancing lights and anything else that gets in our way, then plant every seed we’ve hoarded since leaving home. We will make this damned valley bloom, and then—” She kissed him with fervor. “Then I will go to Qualinesti and return it to its rightful king!”

He smiled into her flushed, angry face. “What a curse,” he whispered.

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