Light of the Heavens

XXVI. Illusory Longings

Seben scrubbed at her eyes with her hands before turning to face the Kingsguard. "Why are you arresting him?" she asked the leader as he approached Vassa and the bard still seated on the steps, his pale hands wrapped tightly around the neck of his instrument.

"And why does it need six of you?" Rhujag asked, eyeing the group carefully as they advanced towards the bard.

"He is a poisoner, an assassin, Your Highness," the sergeant said bluntly. "And elf-blooded at that. He is dangerous."

The crowd, once spellbound, flowed out of the way of the Kingsguard at that declaration. Vassa, however, stayed rooted to her spot between the guards and the bard. Whether or not the accusations of evil intent were true, the comment on his ancestry left a cold fury burning in her heart. The kingdoms of men all but worshipped the purity of their own blood, perceiving as much of the starlight that was elven power that ants toiling in the dirt might.

They corrupt everything they touch, Lysaerys's voice whispered in her ear as if conjured by the music. Their every breath pollutes the air, their every footstep contaminates the earth. At least I treasure the beauty of the butterflies whose wings I pluck. They rip them apart with mere brutality and painful ignorance that defies any illumination.

Vassa's eyes narrowed in the shadows of her hood as the Kingsguard advanced. "Move aside," one said firmly.

Seben's eyes widened when the bard staggered up to his feet and reached out for Vassa. His fingertips caught her hand, delicate warmth brushing against a scarred ivory palm. "Please," he said in elvish beside her ear, stepping into her space. "Help me."

The masked woman had a choice. She could ignore his plea and surrender him to Userkare, to the devouring magic that hungered for even the barest taste of such ancient power. It would shred his soul at a touch, consume all that he was and leave not even ash. The alternative, however, was to risk herself.

His grip tightened on her hand when the Kingsguard stepped forward.

"As you wish," Vassa said, bowing her head to the Kingsguard. She went to step to the side and the bard cried out. The lights of the fires abruptly snuffed themselves all down the street, plunging the crowd into shadow.

Naji flared reflexively to illuminate the darkness for Seben, revealing no trace of Vassa or the bard anywhere to be seen. The Kingsguard cursed and looked at each other, no doubt weighing the consequences of their failure. Their leader looked to Seben and Rhujag. "Your companion, where did she go?"

"I don't know," Seben said.

"He could have taken her somewhere," Rhujag said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Elves are dangerous and powerful. They have more magic in their little finger than all the bloodmages of Zaeylael put together, and none of it's the nice kind."

His words only intensified Seben's worry. "We need to find her," the young woman said firmly. She turned to the Kingsguard and swallowed hard. With all the confidence she could muster, she ordered, "I am certain the King will want to know of this. Report back to him. We'll go looking for Vassa. She always turns up, and she usually has answers when she does."

Across the city, on the balcony of the Ashen Tower overlooking the Sea of Pearls, Vassa stepped out of thin air with the young musician clinging to her arm. He fell to his knees, trembling and clutching his delicate, lute-like instrument to his chest. Brilliant emerald eyes looked up at her, his expression of awe and fear half cloaked in shadows. "You...you saved me," he whispered. "Why?"

Vassa knelt down in front of him, still very conscious of the ache in her chest from his song. "They would have taken you to a fate worse than death," she said gently. "Do you know how precious you are? How rare?"