The tree was the origin of it all. She stared at the silvery bark, the tempting fruit that seemed to whisper to her to snatch another one.
“You feel its compulsion,” the Seneschal announced softly. “For all ages and in every civilization scattered amidst the myriad worlds—of which this one is but a type—there is a relentless hunger for immortality. They all search for this tree.” He put his hand on her shoulder, a tender gesture. “What they never understand is that there is bitterness amidst the sweetness. There is suffering betwixt the joy. I was given the Voided Keys as a steward, to protect this tree from those like Shirikant who rule with terror and destruction because of their benighted pride. Unwearying Ones from other worlds will visit this one and learn for themselves the fruits of consequence caused by men like Shirikant and the despair that follows. Some worlds are wiser than this one. And there are some that are even worse.”
She turned and looked up at him, seeing the look of wisdom in his deep-set eyes. “Are you from this world, then?”
He shook his head. “No, child. I am a custodian. My intention has been to deliver the Voided Keys to someone who will take my place. I will pass to another realm eventually. And so will you.”
“You desired that Prince Isic would take your place. Has he forfeited that chance?”
A small smile lit his face. Thunder rumbled overhead, followed by thick, billowing clouds. As Phae stared up into the sky, she saw an enormous gathering storm, with huge anvil-shaped clouds that loomed higher than the heavens. Lightning flashed and struck. A bulge appeared in the clouds, and she watched with fascination as the bulge began to swirl.
“He comes,” the Seneschal said, motioning toward an archway.
Shion appeared through the gap, as if he had stepped from another existence into this one. He staggered with heaviness, his countenance matching the storm clouds. He had the look of restless determination in his eyes, the focus that had always made her shudder.
“His brother attempted to stop him,” the Seneschal whispered to Phae. “Shirikant sent hawks and doves ahead, warning his servants to forestall him. The safe road was guarded, but the Prince would not be halted. He is a powerful Druidecht and summoned creatures from the woods for assistance. Shirikant’s minions tried to subdue him but failed. Now Isic comes again, burning with determination yet clinging to the seed of failure—the doubt his brother planted in his mind. Watch it fester. Watch him fail.”
Shion tramped up to the bridge, his face flushed with emotion. He stood there, nodding in respect to the Seneschal, but he could not meet his eyes. His hand trembled on the railing of the bridge. He cast a quick, furtive glance at Phae and she realized she was visible to him.
Shion’s voice was hoarse. “I come with grievous news,” he said, sinking to his knees in front of the Seneschal. “Your daughter is dead.”
“I know.”
Anguish of the deepest kind was etched into Shion’s brow. He struggled to breathe, to inhale past his tears. “I failed to protect her.” He wiped his mouth, his cheek muscles twitching. “I beg you to give her soul back to me. I know her spirit magic persists for three days in the mortal world. Let me revive her, my master. I have already given my oath to serve you. I only ask for this one boon.” He wrung his hands together, still unable to meet the Seneschal’s gaze. “I beg you.”
The Seneschal was quiet, considering. “Your heart is grieved, my son. My daughter accepted her fate when she chose to leave Mirrowen. Would you undo that choice?”
Shion winced at the words. “I did not know . . . I could not see the future. I was careless, but do not let my error allow her life to be purged.”
“Was I careless to let her go?” the Seneschal said, his voice deep with meaning. “I—who can see the future? Do you trust my judgment, Prince Isic?”
A spasm of pain seemed to burst open in Shion’s face. “If you knew it, how could you allow it?”
“How could I not allow it?” came the reply. “I cannot force a person to choose.”
“You once told me that the Unwearying Ones who created us without our help will not save us without our consent. I ask you . . . I plead with you! Save her. You were her father. Surely it grieves you as well? I ask for this one boon. I will ask nothing else from you. I will give my whole heart to you, even if you reject my plea. There are no conditions. I submit to your judgment. But please . . . if it is possible . . . give me my wife.” Choking sobs erupted from Shion’s throat.
Phae felt tears trickle down her own cheeks.
“Persistence is powerful magic,” the Seneschal said in a near whisper. “You know I can do as you request. You know I have that keramat. You know it is possible. Bid me again, and I will grant it. Compel me with your magic, and she is yours.”