Talia shivered. What would have happened if she’d touched it? “Thank you for stopping me.” Thank you for saving me, she meant.
He nodded, the serious expression not leaving his face. “I’m glad I was there in time.”
“Do you know anything about the jar of light down there? The … Star-light?” She could still feel the echo of its warmth on her skin where she’d touched it.
“Supposedly it was a spark that fell from the last Star when it was dying, after the gods stole the other two, before the One made it burn hotter and it became our sun. A child caught the spark in a glass and made an offering of it to the temple, so the story goes.”
They looked at each other, and Talia suddenly saw in him a soul as lost as she was.
“Will you help me shut the temple up again?” he asked her.
Her skin crawled at the idea of going back in there, but she nodded.
Wen stood and offered Talia his hand. She took it carefully, and he pulled her up. He held her hand a moment too long, but when he let go she regretted the loss of his steadying warmth.
She followed him outside and back down to the ancient chamber. Rain dripped over the door.
Talia lit another candle and held it up for Wen, hardly daring to breathe as he shut the lid of the glass-and-iron casket. He returned it to the hollow in the marble pillar, and then they stepped out into the rain. It took both of them to drag the stone door shut. They hammered the chains back into the hill, and Talia grabbed Ahned’s keys from where she’d thrown them in the grass. The rain tapered off, dwindling to a few icy drops.
“Thanks,” said Wen, as they trooped back into the house. “Ahned will never know.”
She looked over and he was smiling at her, an unguarded, genuine smile.
The strangeness of the temple still pulsed through her, but her panic had faded. “Thank you for saving me,” she said, brave enough now to tell him what she really wanted to.
In the vestibule, they heard the sudden clatter of wagon wheels on the stones in the courtyard. Talia’s heart seized up—was it possible Caiden was coming back in a carriage?
The guardedness returned to Wen’s face and he abruptly stepped away from Talia, bowed uncertainly, and disappeared down the hall, mumbling something about his symphony. She stared after him—she’d had a glimpse of what it might be like to be his friend, and she didn’t quite want to let it go.
But every nerve was humming with the possibility of seeing Caiden again, of kissing Caiden again. She flushed and stepped out of the house, not even caring about her filthy dress.
She peered into the gathering twilight as the carriage drew near. It was made of light wood, with gold trim around the roof and the door, and was pulled by a handsome pair of matching grays. Avial was nowhere in sight, and Talia tried to shake off her disappointment—definitely not Caiden.
The carriage lurched to a stop in front of the house and before the footman could even jump down, the door opened and a young woman stepped out. She adjusted her green felt hat, an ostentatious mess of ribbons and feathers finished with a large silver buckle. Talia thought it was extremely ugly.
The young woman herself was a tall, pale beauty, perfect yellow curls cascading out from underneath the horrible hat. She wore a bright-green gown, with a voluminous skirt, and delicate lace gloves.
Talia took all this in at a glance, staring at the newcomer and trying to make sense of her sudden presence.
The young woman saw Talia, too. She frowned, deeply, but didn’t offer any comment.
A demure-looking maidservent stepped out of the carriage after her, and the footman hefted a trunk from off the roof. “Shall I start bringing these inside, my lady?” he asked, nodding at the remaining three trunks.
“Inform Lord Estahr-Sol of my arrival first,” the young woman replied.
“At once, my lady.” The footman set the trunk down beside the carriage and bowed smartly.
“Caiden isn’t here,” said Talia, folding her arms across her chest.
The footman, maidservent, and lady in the green dress all looked at her in surprise.
“Who are you?” said the young woman, frowning. “Did the Ruen-Dahr hire a new servant?”
Talia shoved down her flare of temper at the insinuation. “I’m a guest of the Baron’s. Who are you?”
“Lady Blaive Nahm-Aina, of Shold. The Baron sent for me, and he certainly didn’t say anything about you.” Her words were clipped and cool. Her eyes were green, a perfect match for her gown—and that awful hat. “Where is Lord Estahr-Sol?”
“Gone to settle a dispute about a cow.”
Blaive’s frown seemed to have taken up permanent residence on her face. “When will he be back?”
“I don’t know.”
Blaive let out a little huff of breath, peering closer at Talia in the fading light. “Who did you say you were again?”
Talia didn’t answer. “What do you want with Caiden?” Blaive’s eyes grew hard. “I’m his fiancée.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
TALIA FELT HERSELF GROW VERY STILL, AN icy coldness settling in the pit of her stomach. “His—his what?”
“Fiancée.”
Talia glanced at Blaive’s right hand—whatever her claims, she wasn’t wearing a ring. “Caiden never mentioned you.”
The girl looked irritated. “I’m sure you’re mistaken.” She turned toward the waiting maidservent and footman. “Take my things inside. It seems I’ll be welcoming Lord Estahr-Sol home instead of the other way around.”
The footman bowed and, hefting the trunk, brought it up the front steps. He returned a few moments later and unstrapped a second trunk from the carriage roof, carrying that inside as well.
The whole time Talia stood staring at Blaive, completely at a loss for words, trying to figure out how she could possibly be Caiden’s fiancée.
When all four of Blaive’s trunks had been taken inside, the footman hopped back onto the carriage, and she dismissed both him and the coachman with a regal nod. The driver turned the carriage around, and it rumbled back down the road, disappearing into the dusk.
A gust of wind blew suddenly over the stones, and Blaive grabbed her hat to keep it from flying off. She gave Talia one last, fierce look and swept into the house without a word, her green skirts swishing, the maidservent at her heels.
Talia followed. She was halfway across the vestibule when the sound of hoofbeats sent her darting back onto the front steps again.
It was almost wholly dark now, but there was no mistaking Caiden’s bold silhouette coming up the drive on Avial. He had another horse tied with a line to his saddle.
Her heart leapt. Suddenly she didn’t care that she was still upset about him leaving without a word, or about the young woman inside claiming to be his fiancée. She practically ran down the steps to go and meet him.
“A welcome party!” he said, swinging down from his gelding and flashing a grin at her. “I figured you’d forgotten all about me by now.”
She couldn’t help but grin back. “As if I could.”
“I bought you a horse.” He waved at the extra mount behind his. “Only a quarter Enduenan, but it was the best I could do.”