I wanted to tell him that he should have saved himself the trouble. Anger boiled close to the surface with me nowadays. Dangerously close. I swallowed it back as well as I could. "Wylend, there is nothing between us, now. If there ever was."
"Reah, I don't think that's true."
"You are welcome to think as you like." That was an insult, as far as I was concerned. I hadn't been welcome to think as I liked. Wylend had taken my thoughts and words and used them against me. Wyatt, Wylend's heir at the time, wanted to be a healer. Wylend wanted him to step up and be the warlock he desired. My privately voiced opinion had been that Rylend would be the King Karathia deserved. Wylend had written me off and revoked my short-lived Karathian citizenship over it, then went straight to Tory, telling him I'd thought him immature during my first pregnancy—the one that had ended early and in disaster. Apology or not, Wylend had destroyed something fragile between us—trust.
"Reah, I have lived a very long time. I know the intent behind those words. You are correct. You were young and trusting then, and I took full advantage of it, with my age and cynicism. I have paid a heavy price for that." I didn't respond to his words, turning to his son, Griffin, instead.
"Have you found Amara?" I asked.
"No." I hunched my shoulders at his one-word answer.
"I'm sorry," I said. And I was. They'd been together for more than a hundred thousand years. It had taken Wyatt's death to break them up. Then another thought hit me. Did he know that Garwin Wyatt rested in my womb? That Wyatt was returning, as my child? Likely he did. He was the Oracle, after all. "I won't be giving this one up," I stared at him, my anger coming to the fore.
"I know that as well as anyone," Griffin's well-shaped hand went into a pocket of his trousers. "Someone has already come to talk to me about it. I know this doesn't mean anything to you, but I'm grateful."
"For what?" I didn't understand at all.
"That he'll come to someone who will provide love and guidance. Someone I can trust."
I must have gaped at him. I must have. Did I believe him? I couldn't get my truth meter to work on any of the Saa Thalarr.
"I can't lie," he said. "I'm prevented."
"Are you upsetting my patient?" Kevis Halivar came to sit on a chair between Wylend and me.
"I probably am. My timing isn't the best, where Reah is concerned," Wylend murmured.
"Did you ever, even for a moment, really love me?" I asked, standing up. I could still skip away, but that question had bothered me for a very long time. I kept telling myself that he couldn't and didn't. If he had, how could he have done what he did? Shortly after Wylend had dumped me, there followed twenty-five years of being mostly ignored by my other mates, unless they wanted something from me. I brushed off the back of my slacks, although the cushions on my chair were clean. It was a habit, a gesture. Something to do while I waited for an answer, as painful or embarrassing as it might be.
"I did. But I let things interfere. Sabotaged it from beginning to end," Wylend said. "And then allowed something stupid to end it for all time."
"You were looking for an excuse," I said. "Doctor Halivar, your nurses laughed at me when I said I skipped. I'm skipping now." I disappeared, even as he rose and shouted my name.
* * *
"Reah, what are you doing?"
"What does it look like?" I was trimming back branches on gishi fruit trees in EastStar's groves. Someone had seen me and apparently reported it immediately to Edward Pendley, the owner.
"You were only taken away from here yesterday by your husband, Teeg San Gerxon." Edward watched as I cut through a branch and tossed it into a neat pile. Cutting back would enable the tree to bear better for the next harvest.
"He's not the only husband I have. Weren't you paying attention?" I looked for other branches that might need pruning.
"It sounds like you're not happy with all of them."
"I'm not."
"Reah, what are you?" Edward's arms were crossed over his chest.
"High Demon."
"Ah."
"You've heard of them?"
"I have."
"Tell me what you are. There's no way a mortal would have disappeared like that, to take care of a fire five clicks away."
"Ah, that." Edward lifted a hand and rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. "Have you ever heard of the Elemaiya?" His hazel eyes peered at me through dark lashes.
"Yes." I looked at him in surprise. I knew what happened to them; that was certain. Queen Lissa had removed their power and prevented them from gating between worlds.
"I was brought here," he said. "I'm half. Actually, a little more than half. It's a long story," he tossed up a hand. "I was spending time, gating from world to world, doing this and that, when I got stuck here. The gates wouldn't work any longer. So I put down roots and started planting the groves at someone else's suggestion. Then bought more land and planted more trees. My grove is the second oldest on Avendor. Before, gishi fruit grew on trees in jungles and the locals sold the fruit to passing tourists. Now, things are different." He fingered a dark-green leaf thoughtfully.
"Would you like to meet the person who closed the gates?" I asked. "She did it because the Elemaiya got a little out of hand. Now there aren't a lot of them left." I examined his face as he blinked at me in shock.
"You know who closed them?"
"Yeah," I shrugged. "Come on, I'll take you to her. It's not like her sons won't track me down eventually anyway."
"Her sons?"
"Long story. Come on. Maybe I can fix something to eat in her kitchen while she explains all of this to you." I grabbed his arm and skipped both of us to Le-Ath Veronis.
"She'll be here in a minute; the Council meeting is just breaking up," Drew gave me a grin. Lissa had the best Falchani, as far as I was concerned.
"Where are we?" Edward hissed as I led him toward Lissa's kitchen. I didn't even know who worked in it any more.
"You're in the palace in Lissia," I said. "On Le-Ath Veronis."
"The vampire planet?" Edward stopped dead still.
"What are you worried about?" I asked, stopping with him.
"They uh, wanted to turn somebody I know, once upon a time," he muttered. "Someone of my race."
"I think they're past that," I said, throwing out a hand in a dismissive gesture. "Come on, Lissa will pound somebody's head if they look at you wrong."