merely turned slightly away, as though distancing
herself from the discussion. After a hesitation one of the others spoke.
“The banshees were not created through the raising, but
were, nonetheless, a product of the Great Purge. After the Purge many of those
who had been there and saw what befell the combatants were unable to live with
the memories. This was especially true of the wives who followed their husbands
on campaign. They were offered the opportunity to forget, to start life over
with emotion and memories stripped away and trapped in the runes for eternity.
There are a few of us on the Council who know the truth. The others don’t
remember, wouldn’t care. We keep to ourselves to avoid kinsmen recognizing
those they thought lost.”
“Gràinne made the same choice as the rest of us,” Eevul
spoke again. “I don’t know what happened to her, or why. Nor do I care.” She
turned, pointed to the daybed, and Jakuta felt the air around him stir with her
power. “Take her body, and the rune. Our business is concluded here. Destroy
him if he tries to meddle.”
Jakuta readied himself for a fight but, instead of following
Eevul’s direction, the three banshees seemed frozen in place. Eevul stepped
back, her eyes not on Jakuta, but on a spot over his shoulder.
“You lie, Eevul.” Jakuta froze too, too afraid to turn, to
see whether Gràinne’s voice was just a figment of his imagination. “I didn’t
have a choice, didn’t want to forget. The transformation was forced on me—by
you.”
Finally he found the strength to turn and look, the breath
catching deep in his chest at the sight of her standing there, wrapped in the
linen drape. She seemed even more alive than before, if that were possible.
There was a hint of natural color in her cheeks, her hair was more golden and
had a slight wave. When she glanced at him, Jakuta realized her eyes were smoky
gray instead of sea-foam green. It was as though she’d been a pale reflection
of herself before and now was colorized, brought to vivid life.
And there was new power within her too, magic that hadn’t
been there before. It rose and swelled, and his stirred anew to feel it.
She took his breath away.
Eevul’s magic seemed to intensify too, pushing out into the
room as though reaching for Gràinne. He turned toward her, ready to strike out
with his power, but before he could intervene there was a rush of sensation as
Gràinne repelled Eevul’s spell, causing the head of the Banshee Council to
grunt and step back.
However, it didn’t take any time for her to recover. Eevul’s
voice was bland as she said, “Gràinne. We’re happy to see you’ve survived. But
obviously your ordeal has caused some damage to your mind. Give me the rune and
come with us. We’ll take care of you, bring you back to yourself.”
Jakuta wanted to turn back to look at Gràinne, but something
about the way Eevul held her body coiled tight told him not to take his eyes
off her.
Gràinne laughed, but it was a harsh, disbelieving sound.
“Call me Badb, as you once did, Eevul, and for once in your life speak the
truth. Taking care of me means once more stealing my life, my magic. I’m sorry
to disappoint you, but that’s impossible now. It’s too late to undo what’s been
done.”
Eevul turned her head slightly to speak to the other
banshees, even as her gaze remained fixed on Gràinne. “Search the room. Find
the rune.”
“It’s not here.” Gràinne stepped up beside him, the power
coming off her in waves to roll with amazing force over his body. “It is hidden
where you will never find it. And even if you did, there is nothing you could
do with it to hurt me again.”
There was a swish as the drape fell from her hands, and
Jakuta saw all four women’s gazes drop to her tattoo. Even the emotionless
banshees seemed stunned, and Jakuta wondered exactly how little they really
felt, if some had more capacity for emotion than others. He received an answer
to that
herself from the discussion. After a hesitation one of the others spoke.
“The banshees were not created through the raising, but
were, nonetheless, a product of the Great Purge. After the Purge many of those
who had been there and saw what befell the combatants were unable to live with
the memories. This was especially true of the wives who followed their husbands
on campaign. They were offered the opportunity to forget, to start life over
with emotion and memories stripped away and trapped in the runes for eternity.
There are a few of us on the Council who know the truth. The others don’t
remember, wouldn’t care. We keep to ourselves to avoid kinsmen recognizing
those they thought lost.”
“Gràinne made the same choice as the rest of us,” Eevul
spoke again. “I don’t know what happened to her, or why. Nor do I care.” She
turned, pointed to the daybed, and Jakuta felt the air around him stir with her
power. “Take her body, and the rune. Our business is concluded here. Destroy
him if he tries to meddle.”
Jakuta readied himself for a fight but, instead of following
Eevul’s direction, the three banshees seemed frozen in place. Eevul stepped
back, her eyes not on Jakuta, but on a spot over his shoulder.
“You lie, Eevul.” Jakuta froze too, too afraid to turn, to
see whether Gràinne’s voice was just a figment of his imagination. “I didn’t
have a choice, didn’t want to forget. The transformation was forced on me—by
you.”
Finally he found the strength to turn and look, the breath
catching deep in his chest at the sight of her standing there, wrapped in the
linen drape. She seemed even more alive than before, if that were possible.
There was a hint of natural color in her cheeks, her hair was more golden and
had a slight wave. When she glanced at him, Jakuta realized her eyes were smoky
gray instead of sea-foam green. It was as though she’d been a pale reflection
of herself before and now was colorized, brought to vivid life.
And there was new power within her too, magic that hadn’t
been there before. It rose and swelled, and his stirred anew to feel it.
She took his breath away.
Eevul’s magic seemed to intensify too, pushing out into the
room as though reaching for Gràinne. He turned toward her, ready to strike out
with his power, but before he could intervene there was a rush of sensation as
Gràinne repelled Eevul’s spell, causing the head of the Banshee Council to
grunt and step back.
However, it didn’t take any time for her to recover. Eevul’s
voice was bland as she said, “Gràinne. We’re happy to see you’ve survived. But
obviously your ordeal has caused some damage to your mind. Give me the rune and
come with us. We’ll take care of you, bring you back to yourself.”
Jakuta wanted to turn back to look at Gràinne, but something
about the way Eevul held her body coiled tight told him not to take his eyes
off her.
Gràinne laughed, but it was a harsh, disbelieving sound.
“Call me Badb, as you once did, Eevul, and for once in your life speak the
truth. Taking care of me means once more stealing my life, my magic. I’m sorry
to disappoint you, but that’s impossible now. It’s too late to undo what’s been
done.”
Eevul turned her head slightly to speak to the other
banshees, even as her gaze remained fixed on Gràinne. “Search the room. Find
the rune.”
“It’s not here.” Gràinne stepped up beside him, the power
coming off her in waves to roll with amazing force over his body. “It is hidden
where you will never find it. And even if you did, there is nothing you could
do with it to hurt me again.”
There was a swish as the drape fell from her hands, and
Jakuta saw all four women’s gazes drop to her tattoo. Even the emotionless
banshees seemed stunned, and Jakuta wondered exactly how little they really
felt, if some had more capacity for emotion than others. He received an answer
to that
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