They spent several fun hours shopping in the market, and Phoenix and Starlight were kept in stitches at the continuous banter and byplay between Storm and Kari. They seemed to be in a permanent contest to one up the other in verbal battles, and Storm was winning so far, even when some of Kari's sly remarks bordered impolite for company. He would just get a very dry expression and promptly say something even more outrageous.
Grinning as she watched Storm and Phoenix buy ice cream, Starlight turned to Kari and said, "You two are horrible but fun."
"Everyone says that," she responded innocently. Her eyes narrowed suddenly as she saw an unusually masked man coming up quickly. She didn't like the feel of his presence any more than she liked the odd sensation now in the air. It felt as if everything had gone still, and the air just waited for . . . something. "Starlight."
Starlight started to turn, but she was not fast enough. Glacia clamped a hand around her wrist and jerked her arm back to twist it upward. She gave a pained cry, and Storm and Phoenix whirled around sharply. The entire marketplace seemed to empty as people realized there was danger. Kari reacted on sheer instinct, and her fist flew for Glacia's face. "Let her go!" she ordered.
He caught her fist and flung it away from him. Before she could recover, he blasted her point-blank in the chest and sent her flying back into the fountain. It shattered in the impact, and water spewed in the air.
Storm scrambled across the ground and waded into the fountain with her. "Kari!" She had lost consciousness in the impact and did not respond as he eased her into his arms. Blood covered the back of her head and arms and ran down her face. Fury churned inside his heart though he could not be surprised by what his lover had done. She had just proven that Beth and Ashe needed to work even faster on the boosted uniforms; even without skill in combat or attacking magic, Kari had instinctively dived right in without cost or care to herself. "You are a bastard," he told Glacia almost calmly. "You know full well that shot was overkill for someone without any protections—Caretaker or not. She had to respond to a Cultivator's need by nature of what she is."
Glacia said nothing, and his mask hid his face from view so there was no knowing how he felt, but what could be seen of his eyes seemed to hold remorse. Phoenix's entire body stayed tense as he waited for an opportunity to attack and free his twin. The way Starlight was being held, he did not dare; Glacia could do any number of terrible things before any attack landed. Phoenix grabbed his Mask from the earring he wore it on and enlarged it. It was of course identical to Starlight's own Mask, and the armor he called looked much alike to hers with obvious differences between genders.
Storm also grabbed his Mask to call his armor, and he did not release Kari. "Glacia!" His chin lifted slightly. "You know who I am. You know who Emily and Ryan are. You want to say you don't know who our leader is? Who we willingly follow in or out of battle? Every action you have made over the last twenty some odd years has been terrible karma and bad energy. I can see it. Karma's judgment is coming for you." His eyes narrowed behind his Mask. "And I think you know well who Karma is, don't you?"
Phoenix glanced at Storm and then at Glacia as his eyes darkened visibly. "That's why I'm doing this in this way," Glacia said thinly. He didn't loosen his grip on Starlight. He knew damned well she would find a way to get free if she could. "I'm taking Starlight to the place where she first appeared. We'll settle this there. Any two members of your team can come, as well as Phoenix, but . . . keep Tasia out of this, Storm. Please."
He disappeared with Starlight, and Phoenix very nearly snarled as he whirled on the younger Cultivator, but his anger faded as he saw Kari's condition. She had been injured trying to protect Starlight. He frowned and waded into the fountain as well. "Damn it. Damn him. What the hell is Tasia to him?" he demanded as he helped Storm block the spraying water from hitting Kari's face.
"He's my father," came Tasia's very neutral voice from their left. Both Defenders turned their heads to see her walking toward them with Haeth and Striker circling her in looping circles as they responded to her distress. She stepped into the fountain with them, and the water began to pull away from them as it stopped flowing. She knelt next to her little brother. "I heard you call when Kari was hurt. In fact, I heard her call."
"It was instinctive for both of us probably," Storm admitted. He frowned as she saw the depths of icy hell and uneasy shadows churning in his sister's eyes. "Tasi . . ." There was no response, and he knew his sister well enough to understand pushing would do nothing. She would do her duty as the force of Karma, even if destroyed her too.
They transported back to the castle, and Kari was immediately rushed into a medical room for the healers. In the confusion of all the bodies and voices in the foyer, Tasia silently left the castle to head for the fight alone. She did not make it far down the pathway before Phoenix caught up to her with LeAnn and Beth. All three wore expressions that dared her to argue, and she said nothing. They were not a surprise. What was a surprise was seeing Chance, in uniform and armed, approach as well. Rather than his normal neutrality, he looked highly annoyed. She blinked. "Chance? We probably don't need any, hmm, helpers for this."
The others turned and LeAnn's eyes widened briefly before her lashes lowered slightly. "I'll bet my mother ordered him to come along just in case. Better him than Rodi, after all, because it's easier to underestimate Rubeo than it is Rodi."
"Which is exactly what Shanae, and Rodi, said to me," Chance said shortly, distinctly displeased with the situation. "That it doesn't hurt to have extra help, and Glacia's lack of real interaction with me means he knows nothing about me, and he knows at least something of what Rodi is capable." He crossed his arms and shot Tasia a narrowed eyed look as she hid a quick smile. "I'm just going to watch. Unless and until one of you expressly is in a mess you can't get yourself out of, I'm just there to watch."
It was literally impossible for a Caretaker to 'just watch' while their Defender waded right into battle, and they all knew it. In truth, though, Tasia didn't really care one way or another who was there with her. Her father wanted her to stay out of the fight? She looked at her Mask and then pulled it on. Too little, too late, and he had to know it.
She closed her eyes for a moment and let herself remember the past for the first time. It had always killed her, always cut her deeply, to know that her earliest memory was of her father. She could remember the whiff of his cologne and how he had tossed her high in the air while his eyes laughed at her. She knew now that it had not been a lie, that he had truly loved her, but she also knew all too well that perhaps it had been the last unselfish love he had felt.
She could not stop his death, and she honestly did not feel the urge to try. It hurt, but what hurt more was the necessity. When she had confronted him with her reality, she had deliberately looked at him not as a daughter but as the High Priestess. All witches answered to her—and he had used his majik for terrible things. Was he good in his soul? Yes. Did that outweigh the evil he had done at Cashlin's side? No, not this time. A soul that was good that was forced to do evil existed apart from a soul that was good that chose to do evil—and even then, whether those choices were selfish or unselfish could make a difference.
Arthur had chosen to do evil for selfish reasons, and now it was her duty was to balance the scales. His being her father did not soften her stance. Perhaps . . . it hardened it. He had shamed their lineage, had gone against everything they ever stood for. More than any, he needed to be slapped back by karma so he could be reborn and try again. Maybe next time they met, he would do only good with what he had been given.
* * * * *
Starlight sat bound in the middle of the hilly plains between cities and watched as Glacia paced in visible agitation. She could have used her magic without her Mask or aiming her hands, but being armored was a safer bet, and she sort of wanted answers before she tried anything. "What is Tasia to you?" she asked gently. "Obviously you now know who all of the Resurrection Defenders are, and you want to keep her out. You may as well remove your mask now."
He hesitated and then removed the mask. A face with more than passing resemblance to Tasia's was then revealed. "My real name is Arthur Martine," he admitted very quietly. "Tasia is my daughter."
"I see. I am sorry," she said with sincerity. "It must hurt to know that your daughter is your greatest enemy. You only just found out?"
"Only for sure very recently. But I . . . I was fairly certain all along. I just never wanted to admit it." He turned to face her, and there was already grief in his eyes. "It would have been simple if she'd never gotten involved, but now I can't stop what's started, and I can't stop myself from hurting her no matter how hard I wish otherwise."
"So you would kill her if she got in your way?"
His lashes flinched. "If she left me no choice."
She felt her stomach churn a little. Perhaps Destiny had been wise to give Tasia two additional fathers to love her so unconditionally in a way Arthur clearly could not. She had seen Tosh and Dane alike interacting with her, and she believed wholeheartedly either would sooner give their own life than ever hurt her. Perhaps also there may be irony in the scenario. Arthur's resolve to follow through with his orders may have become the resolve inside Tasia to do only good, and to balance the scales when they tipped either way. She said nothing about it, though. Instead, "How did you jump dimensions anyway?" she asked curiously. "I mean, you came to mine from here, and you sent me here and then followed me—repeatedly I think. How do you do it?"
"I found a scapolite globe sitting in a corner of my house one day. It gave me this incredible craving to travel, and it unexpectedly shoved me between dimensions one day. I discovered a fondness for Aluria." He shrugged. "Cashlin gave me a place to live and was much interested in my gifts. As first his assistant and later general, I could travel and do whatever I liked. I admit, his orders are distasteful now and then, but I have determined not to regret my choices because I rather like where I am. Well. Most of my choices. I do regret leaving Tasia, but bringing her with me would have been worse."
"I imagine so," Starlight muttered. "I can't shake the feeling that her presence is part of the glue holding existence together."
He had to smile even though it came out strained. "She is special, yes." He felt the familiar sensation of dimensions being crossed via the globe he had left with Cashlin and turned his head to the side just as the king appeared, looking highly pleased with the situation. "Ah, there you are. Starlight as ordered. I figured you want the honor of killing her yourself."
"You figured right. Well done, Glacia." Cashlin took two steps toward Starlight when a thick vine lined with thorns cut through the air right in front of him and prevented him from coming any closer. He cursed as he turned to see the three Resurrection Cultivators approaching quickly with Phoenix and another man who looked like a member of an army. "I thought they wouldn't get here this fast!" he accused Arthur. "I was to have the time to kill Starlight before they arrived!"
"That's what I thought!" Arthur's stomach rolled as he saw Tasia, and then his heart clenched as she looked at him without any surprise despite only now seeing him unmasked. Too, whatever spell had been muffling him from identifying any characteristics on the Defenders had been lifted, and he could see her long chocolate hair packed into the tight braid trademark for any Defender whose hair reached a certain length. He could even identify LeAnn and Beth as well—and the former explained a lot.
"You thought wrong." Tasia held out a hand and called for her sword. The ancient blade of divine power had been in her lineage for millennia, and had belonged first to Liena, and then Jean, and now herself. A mark of their being descended of a god and a demi-goddess. She could have told Arthur about the dragon blood in their veins, but he did not need to know. "Let's finish this, Cashlin." LeAnn flanked her left and Beth her right since Phoenix was slowly edging his way toward Starlight to free her. Cashlin only looked at them with distaste, and a little smirk touched her lips. "Oh? Are you not enough of a leader to fight your own battles?"
Cashlin was so busy glaring at her that he almost missed Phoenix's movements until the Defender freed Starlight and moved her quickly to a safer spot. Cashlin's temper stirred at losing his second opportunity. He walked forward until he was only a few feet away from Tasia. Up close, there seemed to be something about her that looked very familiar to him, even around her Mask. He could not put his thumb on it. "You think only the three of you can take me on?"
"Actually, I think I could do it alone, but it's more fun this way." Her hand shot up and ice flew from her fingertips.
He dove out of the way and rolled up to his feet lithely only to immediately find himself having to duck and dodge as LeAnn attacked with hands and feet. She was lethal, and more than he had been expecting even with Glacia's mention of her skill. Her fist cracked across his jaw, and he saw stars. A second blow hit his stomach hard enough that he tasted blood in his mouth. Rather than risk losing, for she clearly had the advantage, he put all his effort into evading and finally managed to get away only to whip around and give her a hard shove from behind. She pitched out over a particularly steep hill and then went tumbling down the rock-strewn side. She rolled to a stop at the bottom, dazed and bruised, and did not initially move. Her armor had protected her from the worst of it, and she had tried to protect her head, but very dark red blood still stained her hair and her armor in places.
Cashlin realized a little too belatedly that the redheaded man present had to be her Caretaker when the other man draw a sword whose blade turned as black as his blue eyes had gone. Tasia's own face had lit with a similar, and familiar, fury that meant she might well be the fallen Defender's twin soul, and ice shards lifted around her body.
A snarl on his lips and blood in his black eyes, Chance shot toward Cashlin as the ice shards flew around him. He ran the risk of being harmed by them—allies were only safe from area effect abilities—but it was not a true concern thanks to their combined skill. He worked seamlessly with Tasia, and her magic with his sword was enough to drive Cashlin into a retreat. A fatal blow became merely a nasty gouge across Cashlin's arm when he dodged hastily, and Chance abandoned him to Tasia to run down the hill to LeAnn. She still had not moved.
Beth felt a combination of power and fury rise in the enemy and realized he was about to throw something nasty. She ran swiftly across the grass to leap in front of Starlight and Phoenix and throw out a shield of Glass magic. She was just in time. Cashlin's attack cut across the field in a deadly sweeping circle that smashed into her shield. She held on desperately to her magic, but by the time the attack ended, her shield had almost shattered and she had burned far more magic than she expected.
Her knees buckled as her shield dissolved, and Phoenix hastily caught her. "Beth?" he asked softly.
"Tired," she managed. "I'll be fine. That . . . was nasty. He's much stronger . . . than any of us realized . . ."
Phoenix turned to snarl at Cashlin but found him staring in horror at something. The Defender followed his gaze and stopped breathing as well. Tasia had somehow remained on her feet. Her Mask had been cracked and her armor had been torn terribly, but she stood. The visible wounds lining her skin slowly bled gray blood. As the blood dripped off her skin and touched the ground, clover began to bloom. Phoenix had never seen the like before. "What is she?" he whispered. What was in her blood that Protea herself so deeply loved?
Cashlin could only continue to stare. One of his mostly deadly attacks, powered by the pure force of evil he had obtained, had not felled her. It had left Starlight near for dead, had drained the Carnation Defender's shield, but this . . . sorceress Lead still stood. Perhaps only majik would take her down. That made sense. He turned to demand Arthur help him only to discover a look more of concern than horror on his face. The puzzle began to connect as Cashlin looked back and forth between the two faces. He could see more of Tasia's with her cracked Mask, and he could see similarities—especially in their eyes. "Is she your daughter?" he demanded sharply.
Arthur slowly nodded. "She—she is. I only just found out."
"Then I cannot count on you to do what is needed!" Cashlin whirled on Tasia in a rage and began to send blast after blast of furious power at her until she was forced to cross her arms over her face defensively. Her armor continued to crack or tear in the punishing rain. "Do you think you're better than I am?" he snarled.
Her eyes opened slightly and her lips curved. "I have it on good authority I'm one of the best." She ducked the next blast and lunged toward Cashlin barehanded.
He could not block the punishing rain of strikes. When he finally managed to block her fist with his palm, her blood stained his hands. He screamed in agony and released her as the smell of burnt flesh filled the air. He staggered back and stared at his hands in horror as disgusting scars formed in the places her blood had burned him to the bone. "Wh-what is this?!"
"It's called arcanistry. Magic and majik and arcane power. It infuses everything about me, even my blood." She bared her teeth mockingly. "Evil just can't seem to stand it. I don't know why. It's not like I'm Karma itself. Or, maybe, I am." Her hands shot out and clamped over his face without remorse. She listened dispassionately as he screamed in pain. The sound was high-pitched and terrified as her blood ate like acid through his flesh. Planets soaked in her arcanistry like rain, but evil could be torn to shreds. She dropped her hands and took several steps back. "Evil should be as ugly as its deadened soul. You will lure in no others with your false beauty and sibilant lies."
Beth had burned her magic, but not her majik, and conjured up a large hand mirror that hovered in the air in front of Cashlin. He lowered his hands to stare at his own visage, and bile rose. The face that greeted him was deformed and hideous, the scaring vivid and terrifying. The evil inside his soul had been stamped on his face. He looked like one of his own monsters; a monster of his own making.
Hatred and rage mixed in him, and he whirled with a guttural sound of fury as his hands filled with necrotic power. The blast was simply too big to avoid, and Tasia went tumbling backwards across the grassy field. Her blood stained the land, and clover sprang up around where she landed. She stared at the sky sightlessly for a moment and then her hands curled into fists as Cashlin staggered toward her with his sword in his hand.
Chance set LeAnn on the grass next to Beth and began to move across the field quickly. He honestly did not know if Tasia could get off a spell fast enough to save herself, and he would be damned if he lost one of the Cultivators he was compelled to protect. Tasia, because of her connection to LeAnn, was especially important to him though he would not admit it. Reciprocity always existed between those who shared someone else's soul.
Cashlin lifted his sword over Tasia and saw silver-gold majik fill her hand. He snarled and shoved the sword toward her chest, and at the last second, Arthur dove into the pathway of the blade. It pierced through his armor as if it did not exist and then continued all the way through his body until emerged through the front. Shock briefly froze Cashlin but not long enough for him to miss Chance closing in. He scrambled out of the way before the Captain's sword nearly took his head.
Chance didn't bother to go after him. He knelt next to Tasia and helped her sit up with her father's body in her arms. They lowered Arthur gently to the grass and Chance removed the breastplate of the armor. He grimaced. The wound looked more horrific than he had expected. "Can you heal him?" he asked Tasia. "Or should we call Sayena?"
"Yes, and no." Tasia touched Arthur's face. "Papa?"
Arthur's eyes flinched and then slowly opened enough that he was able to look up at her. Somehow, amazingly, his lips curved into a faint smile even though blood stained them. "You haven't called me that in a long time."
"You earned it again." She smoothed majik across his chest to ease the pain. "One life given cannot make up for a lifetime stolen or for the dozens of other lives you took. Sacrificing your majik for the speed to protect cannot make up for a life of selfishly using majik for terrible deeds. But . . . it is a start. I suppose our Goddess wanted to spare me spilling your blood. I can be grateful for that. I still love you, Papa. And because I do, I can let this happen. Let the balance be made. So mote it be."
He carefully lifted a hand to touch her cheek. "You are more than I could ever be. And your fathers have helped make you that way. I never stopped loving you . . . but you were never mine. I accept Karma's judgment." His breath caught and then unraveled as the rest of the pain began to go away entirely. It had been replaced by a gathering warmth that felt like being bathed in light and dark alike. "My baby girl." He tightened his fingers on her cheek while he could. "Maybe . . . this had to happen."
His hand slipped from her cheek and his eyes closed. The last breath left his lungs and she felt pain welling inside. Necessity, need, made it hurt no less. Perhaps it made it hurt more. The agony welled until it constricted her soul and stole her voice. Her emotions, always so volatile, only seemed to churn harder inside her heart and soul. Why? Why did this have to happen? What need had Destiny filled by laying out these events?
A mocking laugh reached her ears. "Daddy's girl," Cashlin said snidely. "Poor little daddy's girl."
Agony drowned in a searing wave of fury the likes of which she had never felt before. Her head jerked up and her eyes had turned solid gray. Her pupils had disappeared into the swirl of power and it had spread to consume her irises. It was as raw and untamed as the forces of Light and Dark themselves, and the flicker of warning black and white lightning came again.
"Tasia." Chance touched her shoulder. "Tasia." She neither looked at him nor in any way acknowledged him. Sharper, he said, "Anastasia!"
She slowly got to her feet and felt something sparkling inside her blood. Something oddly soothing and familiar, much like the sparks made when she touched Shanae or Sayena or Rodi, and the opposite force of Light and Dark met. Tasia's arcanistry held True Shadow which was both Light and Dark, yet she held Light and Dark individually as well. Her Light sparked to Shanae's Dark, her Dark sparked to Sayena's Light, and both sparked against her husband for he was also True Shadow.
Her first step forward made the sky darken with gray storm clouds. White and black lightning flickered warningly and became the only illumination in the suddenly shadowed area. Cashlin looked at her . . . and felt true terror for the first time in his life. He scrambled back across the grass as hard as he could and nearly tripped over his own feet.
A mocking smile touched her lips. "I'm not going to kill you yet, Cashlin." Her Mystic voice was soft yet still cut the air so that it quivered. "Long live the false king, majesty. One day you will turn, and I will be there." Her eyes narrowed. "And I will enact judgment."
He disappeared abruptly, and a glowing orb of scapolite appeared in the air before softly thudding onto the grass. She stared at it for long moments and then she began to sink onto the ground bonelessly as grief and blood loss finally sapped her strength. She landed in Shanae's arms instead of on the ground, however. "Shanae?" she managed to ask.
"Shh. I've got you." Shanae gently lowered Tasia to the grass since she could not carry her; majik added immense amounts of weight to Tasia's already tall and muscular form. In fact, it felt a little as if maybe she had just gotten a little heavier. "Just rest, Anastasia."
Tasia tiredly stared at her and then at Rodi as he knelt on her other side. "Why?"
"I knew you needed her support." Rodi removed her Mask and fought back a wince at how she looked. He brushed her bangs out of her face and then rubbed his thumb over the bruised skin under her eyes. He had seen her this way before, and he prayed to all deities he knew that he never saw it again. He could take little comfort in thinking she had not shattered; she still felt a little cracked. He gathered her into his arms as gently as he could. "Rest," he urged softly. "Just rest."
Shanae clasped Tasia's hand and the familiar sparks flew as their cores touched. This time, however, she still felt the sparks even after they faded; they always faded after that first contact so long as they did not actively use their power. That could be dangerous, actually, for those sparks represented the birth of Chaos, the force born where Light and Dark clashed against each other; Shadow represented where they harmoniously merged. In fact, the Shadow Flower Element was considered a derivative of the uncontrolled and unowned Chaos Flower Element. Chaos power could be utterly detrimental and lethal to anyone in existence, but most especially the two Apexes for neither could protect themselves from their opposing force within Chaos. Whatever sparks may be inside Tasia, however, caused no harm to Shanae. "There's something different inside you, Tasi," she said softly.
"It feels . . . inevitable," Tasia murmured softly. "My . . . emotions . . . always seem to effect my power. My True Shadow keeps splitting into Light and Dark, and my Gray core keeps pulling it back together. S'how I have all three now. Maybe . . . it's coming back together hard enough to spark against itself. It feels . . . nice. Familiar and comforting."
Shanae looked over and saw Chance picking up LeAnn, and Maxim had retrieved Beth. Phoenix and Starlight hovered anxiously around the two fallen Cultivators. When Logan and Rodi had picked up Tasia's severe wounding, they had agreed Rodi had the better odds in any fight, and he had immediately grabbed Shanae for backup who had grabbed Maxim. They had genuinely not known what they would be entering, and that meant it had just been too dangerous to bring Terry, no matter how badly he wanted to be by Beth's side. "I think," she murmured, "that this may be the turning point. The Caretakers of Resurrection must make themselves capable of entering battle somehow. Uniforms, enhanced or not, will not be enough."
"If they ask," Rodi agreed quietly, "then the others of us will teach."
Shanae looked up at the sky as the clouds began to disperse, and her eyes lingered on the remaining bits of lightning. They were damn lucky Tasia had not lost control; she could have destroyed the entire landmass. There was no need to ask what had happened. Arthur's body said it all. She spotted the globe laying in the grass and picked it up. She set it gently in Tasia's hands. "I think this is yours now, honey. He would have wanted you to have it."
Tasia focused on the globe and tears welled up in her eyes as she felt her father's presence surrounding her. "It feels like him," she managed to say. She could almost smell his cologne. The pain boiled up and overwhelmed her, and it left her clinging onto Rodi as the tears poured out of her without stop. It felt almost a relief to see it happen for it would prevent the wounds from festering inside her soul. Unlike Light cores, she did not tear up all the time, but also unlike Dark cores, she could cry with relative ease if her musical soul could not heal itself. The blessing of being Gray.
No one said anything. She needed to purge the pain, and there was nothing any of them could say anyway. Shanae especially understand completely how Tasia felt; when you were the one who felt the most, who gave the most, then you were also the one who hurt the most. It was the cruel double-edged burden of those that had great power, and though only a few of them knew it for fact, Tasia truly was just as powerful as Sayena and Shanae.
Kindred spirits, Shanae thought again as she gently brushed at Tasia's bangs. It was something to help them both through the pain. Sometimes Destiny was kind after all.
* * * * *
Tasia awoke to find herself tucked into her own bed inside her suite in Delphinium Castle with the covers gently spread over her shoulders. She sat up carefully and took stock. She had been dressed in her nightgown, and there were no aches or pains in her body; the healers had gotten to her while she was out, though she may well have healed some of it on her own. Her soul also felt to be healing inside her own power, though she would ask Ryan to help her mend the rest later. Just because she could heal herself physically or spiritually did not mean she had to do it, and she indulged her friends' need to baby her even when she didn't need it. She pushed the covers aside and got to her feet to walk over to the open balcony doors and look across the vast gardens below her.
She didn't know how much time had passed, but she knew it had been at least a few hours because it was dark out. She could not see Protea, so it wasn't between twenty-one and twenty-two hours, though whether it was before or after it, she could not determine. She had no desire to majikally find out. Her senses told her that all of her friends as well as her husband, kids, and dragons were in residence at the castle as well, but she didn't call to any of them. She just sat silently on the swing of her balcony.
Anira flew up to land on the railing and then tumbled off and into her lap where Tasia began to gently stroke her head and take what comfort she could from the baby dragon. She closed her eyes and let the night wind blow around her. It was somehow soothing.
Her door opened, and she didn't look up. She listened as LeAnn softly crossed the room to sit on the swing next to her. They were both silent for long moments, then LeAnn leaned against Tasia's shoulder and the other woman put an arm around her to take comfort from her as well. "He loved you," LeAnn said softly. "I think that's the most important thing, no matter how late it was learned."
"I know." Tasia rested her cheek on her hair. "And while his final actions could not erase all he had done before, it could bring me some ease. My first and last memory of him will forever be the good left inside him. I can accept that." She rocked the swing lightly. Music softly welled inside her soul until it spilled over into the night, but she did not call it back. Sometimes it just happened that way, almost like another way of crying. She let it spill out and then lifted her voice in harmony. No words were needed. All of the words had already been said. This lullaby merely said goodbye.
* * * * *
The music crossed between dimensions as if the walls did not exist and found Cashlin. It curled around him tauntingly as the mystical voice rooted itself into his mind so deeply that he couldn't remove it no matter how he tried. It was like the face that greeted him when he looked into a mirror. Inside him, he hated Anastasia Aria with a passion that most people reserved for love. He had only wanted to kill Starlight and take Aluria for his own, but now he wanted the Resurrection Cultivators dead in general and that sorceress in particular.
Without turning away from the moonlight outside his window, Cashlin said sharply to the man behind him, "Kill them. Kill them all. I don't care how, just do it. Don't fail me like Glacia did, little brother, or I'll kill you myself."
Minstrel just smiled, and the light of the moon illuminated his face like a death head's mocking and cruel laughter. He wore insanity like most wore clothes, and like clothes, his insanity changed day to day. Some days it was better and some days it was worse. It became a game of roulette where the stake was your life and he held all the markers.
He loved a good game, especially when people made the pieces. It was so much fun to watch them die. He had learned to enjoy death ever since it had so violently invaded his life many years before. He could think of nothing better than killing the Resurrection Cultivators, one by one by one.
"Eeny meenie miny moe," he said softly in a little singsong voice, "which Defender will be the first to go?"
©Stacy J. Garrett. Do not reprint or redistribute without permission.
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