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Olivia, Page 3

Robert Oliver


  This was a near nightly occurrence. It restored warmth to Niv and gave her time before sunrise to ponder her day. It was different than her daily meditation—where she strived for mental stillness. Instead, she used the time to plan.

  She couldn’t get Kytis out of her mind. His sudden appearance troubled her, and she was even more concerned that Niv took this in stride. She felt safer with the ward around their bedroom but feared more would be necessary. She decided a thorough study in the temple records might shed some light on the mystery.

  The sun peered through the stain glass window, casting warm colors on the opposite wall. The early morning bustle of Selandis permeated even the thick temple walls. Niv started to stir yet remained wrapped in Shareis’s loving embrace.

  “Good morning,” she said.

  “Morning,” Niv replied.

  “I hope you slept well.”

  “I did. I was warm as toast.”

  She chuckled. “Do you have a busy day ahead of you?”

  “Always.”

  She nestled closer, catching a hint of the rosewater she washed Niv’s hair in the previous night. She kissed her shoulder.

  “I don’t want this to end,” Niv said.

  Shareis lowered her hand and rested it on her leg. “It doesn’t have to.”

  “Mmm.”

  She parted her thighs and slowly stroked her lover. Her heart raced as Niv’s hips rocked in time to her movements.

  Suddenly, Niv tensed. “You’re making this difficult.”

  She kissed her neck. “I know.”

  Niv pulled away. “I can’t. I’ve got too much to do this morning.” She sat upright on the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry, Shareis.”

  “I understand.”

  Niv stroked her face. “I promise I’ll make it up to you this evening.”

  She reached up and kissed Niv. “Then you’re off the hook.”

  Niv walked to the basin and washed her face. She laid on the pillow, keeping a lingering gaze on her lover’s backside.

  “The council is becoming more demanding of my time. Fortunately, Emira picked up some of the slack.”

  “Good. You work too hard.”

  Niv scoffed. “Me? You have me beat, by far. They’re shoving papers in my face and boring me with meetings, but you, love, have been doing the heavy lifting that Selandis has needed. The captain of the guard told me you have completely revitalized the city forces.”

  “He’s giving me too much credit,” she replied. “The people here are highly motivated, and their spirits are high. That’s because of you.”

  Niv adjusted her dress and leaned to give Shareis a kiss. “Maybe we’re a good team.”

  “Indeed.”

  “What are you doing today?” Niv asked.

  “I have some research to do.”

  “If you need any help in the archives, ask Aiden. Lately he’s been poring over them.”

  “I will.”

  “Oh, I won’t even be able to meet you for lunch today. The council will have me tied up until late this afternoon.”

  She frowned. “That’s a shame. I quite like our lunches. It has usually been me that had to cancel them. I suppose I owe you a few.”

  “We’ll make up for it with a nice dinner.” Niv gave her a lingering kiss. “This will have to last until then.”

  She flashed a sly smile. “That, and…” She put her finger in her mouth.

  Niv’s pupils widened and her pale skin flushed. “You are incorrigible.”

  “You’d better go, Niv, or we’ll never get out of here.”

  The two headed for the door. “Have a good day, love,” she said.

  Before Niv rounded the corner, an adept started walking alongside her.

  Another busy day.

  She picked up a scone with cream in the kitchen and headed to the library. To her surprise, Aiden was already there, reading a large volume.

  “Good morning Shareis.”

  “Good morning. Please, don’t let me disturb you.”

  He stretched. “I could use the distraction. I couldn’t sleep well, so rather than wait for the sunrise I came here in hopes these records would lull me to sleep.”

  “I heard you had a date with Frasie last night.”

  He smiled. “I did. That’s why I couldn’t sleep.”

  “Congratulations.”

  “Oh, I don’t mean that. No, we… we just kissed. But… we had a wonderful time.”

  She tried her best to suppress a grin at his squirming. “I wasn’t implying anything otherwise.”

  He ran his fingers through his hair. “Frasie is amazing, Shareis.”

  “She is a formidable huntress and a kind soul.”

  “Well said.” He pointed to the tome. “I found something interesting. This is a collection of all the deeds in Masola township. Note the age. Some of them are several centuries old.” He flipped a few pages. “Except this one.”

  “That one is two hundred years old as well,” she replied.

  “But look at the paper. It’s newer than the rest.” He pointed to the edges. “And it’s been pasted into this book after the fact.”

  “Kytis,” she said.

  “Mmm hmm. Our new friend.”

  She sighed. “Niv doesn’t see any problem. But there is something about that man that bothers me to my core.”

  “It’s the same with Frasie,” he replied. “He bought her wine on our date last night. I wanted to break it over his head.”

  “Sounds like a planned encounter,” she said.

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. I don’t want to start thinking like the jealous boyfriend.”

  “It’s not just you, Aiden.”

  She took a closer look at the deed. “This says he’s married to a woman named Rachel.”

  “Was,” he corrected. “She died almost two years ago.”

  “What do you know of this Rachel?” she asked.

  He pointed to another book. “That’s in here.” He thumbed to the page. “A report from the Proctor Wars. She was a child. Only lists her father, Sam. Oh, here’s a description. She had red hair, green…”

  “Green eyes, right?”

  He nodded.

  “I know this property,” she said. “The mayor of Masola used to own it. It’s a nice piece of land.”

  “I don’t understand why he’d try to backdate his deed.”

  “It’s one of his many deceptions and misrepresentations.”

  “I’ll keep digging,” he said. “There’s got to be more. If I can find some proof of his lies, I can show Frasie, and—”

  “You don’t need to prove anything to Frasie.”

  “But he’s manipulative, rich, and—”

  “And you helped saved the world, my friend.” She put a hand on Aiden’s shoulder. “Don’t underestimate yourself.”

  He smiled. “Thank you. I’m a bit embarrassed he has me flustered.”

  “I understand completely.”

  “There’s one other person that might have some insight into Kytis.”

  “Olivia,” he replied.

  “Precisely. She was Narelle’s friend. She had to know something. Thank you for your help, Aiden.”

  “Let me know what you find.”

  “I will.”

  Chapter 8

  “Fire!” Frasie yelled.

  An archer from the Selandis guard released an arrow into his target.

  “Got ‘em!” She walked to the straw dummy and plucked an arrow from the center. “Absolutely perfect. You have really improved, James.”

  James smiled. “With your help.”

  She closely inspected the arrowhead. “This one isn’t as sharp. I’ll have to speak to the fletcher.”

  The archery commander approached. “Our men’s accuracy has improved dramatically since you started training with us. We owe you a tremendous debt of gratitude.”

  “It’s not me. It’s the extra practice. My father told me once that no one was born a good archer,
but time and patience will make one.”

  “Perhaps, but your skill is unmatched in all the content.”

  She blushed. “Thank you.”

  James nocked another arrow. She watched intently as it gracefully left his charge. The shot was good, but wind sent it a bit to the right of center.

  James sighed. “Rotten luck.”

  “You could have predicted that.”

  “Predict the wind?”

  She put her finger over her lips. “Listen.”

  James shrugged. She gestured for him to remain still.

  “There’s a pattern to the wind. Listen for it. Fire when it’s about to stop.”

  She caught Kytis out of the corner of her eye. He sat on a bench above the archery training grounds.

  She moved her arms in a broad circle. “Feel the wind, James.”

  He gave her a strange look.

  “I’ll be back.”

  She climbed the steps and approached him. He didn’t look up from his drawing. “Good morning,” she said, then sat beside him. “How are you, Kytis?”

  He feverishly drew a moment, then handed her a paper. Her mouth fell open in astonishment as she admired his extremely detailed drawing of her firing an arrow.

  “That’s incredible! You’re very talented.”

  “Thank you. My apologies for not answering you immediately. I wanted to make it perfect before you saw it.”

  “I’ve never seen such detail.”

  “It’s a hobby of mine,” Kytis replied. “Actually, I prefer painting, but it’s a bit of a hassle to drag my supplies through the city.”

  She handed it back to him. “It’s so amazing. And I’m honored you would draw me and my bow.”

  “No, please keep it. I should thank you for being an excellent model.”

  “Me, an art model?” She laughed. “You need to get your vision checked. We have an optometrist in Selandis.”

  “Painting a vase and a bowl of fruit is boring,” he said. “A porcelain art model a challenge. But a skilled huntress in the middle of a hunt? Pure exhilaration.”

  “I suppose. I can’t draw at all. Not even a circle. Nivvy can sketch fairly well, but not like this.”

  “Perhaps she acquired a talent for art from our father.”

  “Farius can paint? Hmm… He never mentioned it.”

  “Ah, yes, my father’s other talent. The art of omission.”

  She didn’t want to dig any deeper, so she changed the subject. “I want to thank you again for the wine last night.”

  “Think nothing of it. In fact, I was going to apologize to you. It dawned on me later that I might have disrupted your evening and perhaps antagonized your friend.”

  “Aiden? No. At least, I don’t think so. I’d know for sure if I knew what antagonized meant.”

  Kytis chuckled. “It means to annoy or irritate.”

  “Oh no, not at all. He’s not like that. In fact, he’s very patient. He puts up with me.”

  “I would hate to think I caused a rift.”

  “Nope,” she said. “Wait until I tell him you’re an artist. He’ll love that.”

  “Does he draw as well?”

  “Yes, but it’s a different kind of drawing. He sketches machines and inventions.”

  “How interesting,” he said. “I could use an engineer on my estate. I’d be happy to employ the boy.”

  “He works for Selandis and helps Nivvy.”

  “I see. Nevertheless, I shall make him an offer.”

  “We’re pretty busy here. You’d have to talk to him about that.”

  “We?” He paused. “I must be mistaken. I didn’t realize you two were married.”

  “Oh, we’re not.”

  “No?”

  She noticed his probable relief. “But Aiden is my boyfriend.”

  “You were on a date last evening?” He put his hand on his chest and inhaled sharply. “And I interrupted you two. Oh, dear. Aiden must think me intolerable.”

  “Aiden will realize it was a misunderstanding. Besides, it was just a friendly gift. We both appreciated it. Please don’t feel bad, Kytis.”

  He stood. “Too late.”

  “It’s alright. I’ll explain it to him. He’ll see. You worry too much.”

  “No, it is my mistake, and thus my responsibility. Where may I find him?”

  “He spends most of his days in the Varesh helping with various city projects. Or the archives. He’s been reading a lot.”

  “The archives? Hmm… interesting. He doesn’t strike me the type to be interested in tedious paperwork.”

  “He is a man of many talents,” she proclaimed with pride.

  He gave her a thin smile. “You deserve nothing less.” He gathered his art supplies. “I hope we can spend another delightful morning together, Frasie.”

  She nodded. “Of course. I’m always here in the mornings. Well, almost always. Pretty much every day, really.” She stopped herself. “Anyway, thank you again, Kytis.”

  She sat on the bench and studied the drawing. She had always pictured herself as an awkward girl, but his sketch said otherwise. Gone were the messy curls that flung every direction from her head and her lanky fingers that grabbed the bow like a man. His pen had eased a graceful figure from the page representing the talented archer everyone claimed her to be.

  Fiery red locks flowed with grace. Slender fingers tugged with precision on the string. These things changed her self-image, but not nearly as much as the eyes. Those eager, carefree eyes had narrowed. In his painting she stalked her prey. She knew, beyond any doubt, that when her arrow flew it would strike its mark.

  Truly Kytis had some sort of magic, because the spell he had inscribed had transformed her view of herself. For a moment, she saw past the doubt.

  She was the huntress.

  Chapter 9

  Niv flicked her meditation blanket and let it fall gently on the grass, then sat on it cross-legged. The small group of adepts with her did the same.

  “Why do you meditate in the temple garden?” one asked.

  She pointed to the ground. “The temple is wonderful, but I cannot touch nature inside its walls.” She looked up to a mighty oak tree that towered above her. “And it reminds me of home.”

  Emira pointed to the sky. “Do the Jeweled Woods have oaks like this?”

  “Yes, but they are far more numerous and colorful.”

  “Maybe we should all meditate outside,” another adept said.

  “No. You should meditate wherever you feel most comfortable. Most of you have been practicing magic for far longer than me. I, nor anyone else, is more qualified to tell you where to be.”

  “But you are High Priestess,” Emira said, then pointed to her neck. “And you wear the Amulet of Balance. I know it wouldn’t have chosen you if you were not special.”

  “Even if that is true, you are still an expert on your own practice. I am only here to assist.”

  Emira picked a blade of grass and rolled it between her fingers. Her thin brown hair blew in the breeze. She could tell that her assistant wasn’t satisfied with her answer.

  “What kind of teacher would I be if I told you all the answers?” she asked. “Even if I wanted to it would be impossible because I don’t have them.”

  “We aren’t used to that,” Emira admitted. “Vorea never taught us anything. Maeva gave us little room to experiment, and—"

  “That is the High Priestess’s mother,” another adept warned. “Do not speak ill of her.”

  “Maeva is very special to me, but she is not perfect by any means. I want you to speak your minds, not fear my reactions to your thoughts.”

  “You give us great freedom in your teachings, High Priestess,” Emira said. “We do not know how to use it.”

  “Don’t know, or are afraid?”

  Several adepts hung their head. Emira’s hazel gaze darted around as she pondered her words.

  “I do not benefit from the formal magical education each of you has received
. Maeva taught me only a fraction of what she knows in the short time I had with her. I fall asleep each night reading a book from the library. I am learning just as much as you. It would be foolish of me to assume I am somehow better because I wield this necklace.”

  “But you defeated Vorea,” Emira said.

  “Yes, with a lot of help. I couldn’t have done it alone.” She pointed to Emira. “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-four.”

  “I am twenty-one. At what age did you first meditate?”

  “I was six, High Priestess.”

  “And your first spell?”

  “Eight or nine.”

  “I was swimming in ponds when I was eight or nine. Catching bugs in jars. Fishing. These are magics, for sure, but of a different kind. It is you, my bright adepts, that must teach me. I can only share my experiences and my talent in hopes it will be of benefit.”

  “Vorea never had us meditate outside,” an adept said.

  “Vorea was not a teacher. I am not even sure I’m cut out for the job.”

  Emira bowed her head. “You are the High Priestess, mother of us all. You will always be our teacher. We serve at your pleasure.”

  “Then it be my pleasure you each surpass me.”

  Emira pondered her words, then smiled. “That is why you are the best teacher we have ever had.”

  She blushed. “Let us do what we came here to do, shall we?”

  They all closed their eyes. She was now proficient in meditation and could quickly clear her mind. In the stillness, she felt the tug of the amulet. It was the only time she was acutely aware of its presence. The promise she had made months ago to the avatar embedded in the shining red gem to release him had gone unfulfilled, but not forgotten.

  I am not finished with my work.

  She knew the avatar could hear her thoughts, so her reassurance was for both. Her acknowledgement always squelched the energetic hum from the Amulet of Balance, allowing her to fall deeper into her meditative state.

  Her moment of silent bliss was soon interrupted.

  Niv’leana

  The voice was crystal clear and had the familiar metallic ring of telepathy. She knew the voice even in her deep trance. It was her father, Farius.

  Rather than reply, she opened herself further to his communication. She didn’t want to retreat into her analytical mind to form a response, rather receive his message. He repeated her name and a surge of loving warmth circled her shoulders.