Shadow of the Avatar

Chapter 14 -- Confrontations

Since I was a teen my mouth has been getting me in trouble. It's a trait that hasn't improved with age...

--Wren

Wren opened her eyes. She lay on her side on a marble floor. Her neck ached and everything looked fuzzy. She felt cold, as if her bones had turned to ice. The giant corridor filled with artwork and mirrors was quiet except for a plaintive piping sound. The dagger, Corona, cried on the floor by her. The glow from it flickered.

A banging sound drew Wren's attention away from the dagger. Forehead resting on fist, Cassandra leaned against the wall staring into one of the mirrors. It didn't appear that she liked what she saw.

Wren felt so serene, as if all the hurts of the last week were burned out of her by the tirade she directed at Cassandra. Apparently, the dream she shared with Grahm hadn't dispelled her pain over his death and those of the Brethren. The agony of seeing her family destroyed had been bottled up and walled off so she could function. Cassandra had tested that barrier and the dam had broken, letting out a flood of frustration and fury. A fine chimera the mage had broken loose.

She couldn't believe she'd challenged Cassandra, daring the mage to do her worst. Had she gone crazy? Wren shook her head, trying to shake off the grogginess. She picked up Corona. "Hush," she said. "Shhh."

With a tinny sounding sniff, the weapon stopped its noises. She belted him back on. What had the mage been thinking when she made this thing? A dagger that cried? Wren struggled to her feet.

She held out a hand; not the slightest tremble. She'd almost died, where was the pounding heart, the shakes? It made no sense.

Cassandra turned. The mage's gold skin looked pale. The staff lay at her feet. She focused on Wren. "I nearly killed you."

The calm in Wren's mind felt as icy cool as the rage had been hot. She felt the phoenix throbbing like a second heart between her breasts. "You'll have to finish the job if we don't agree. I am a person, not a toy. All I ask is a little courtesy."

Cassandra narrowed her black eyes. Wren felt a tingle shoot through her again. The mage's body went from stiff to bowed, as if a great weight settled on her shoulders. "I had no idea you suffered such..." Her voice caught. "I did not sense it." She laced her fingers, knuckles whitening. "I--" the words seemed to stick in her throat. "You were right," she bowed her head. Her tone became formal, enunciated in a mage's ultra-precise diction. "I took liberties with my station. I hope you will accept my--apology." She said the word so faintly, Wren barely caught it. This woman probably never apologized. "Your mission is humanitarian, and my pretenses petty. I hope you will forebear."

What made such a dramatic change in Cassandra? Wren guessed it was because the mage could read her mind. She'd thrown her emotions in Cassandra's face, blasted her with every bit of the anger, pain and fear in her body. She'd made the woman feel as she felt. That would have been as startling and as hurtful as any blow.

"I'm sorry too. I overreacted. I apologize."

Cassandra swallowed. "You're strong. You've been through so much. Please." She held out a hand.

The woman's fingers trembled. Her face, could Wren be reading it right? The mage looked scared. Wren approached and gripped the offered hand.

Cassandra surprised her again by giving her a hug. "Lords, I cannot believe my own coldness. I have two daughters your age." She held onto Wren rocking her. The mage trembled.

At first, Wren couldn't forget she'd only moments ago tried to strangle her. Her tone sounded near despair. Apparently, Cassandra had seen something frightening in herself. For a few moments, she wasn't a deadly sorceress but a person in need of consoling.