The Kindly One

XXV. The Threat

"The demons are regaining a foothold. They move in subtle ways now. They've learned from the mistakes of the Princes of Iron," Lieren said. Her voice was barely loud enough for Iona to catch it as she approached.

"Holland is certain that 'tis the Deceiver," a soft woman's voice said. The accent was some strange mix of Leyan and Yssan. "Our daughter's dreams are troubled yet."

"I'll do what I can, but I promise you nothing. We have troubles enough of our own."

Iona rapped on the doorframe lightly before stepping in. Now she could see the woman that Lieren was talking to, sitting on the broad ledge of the windowsill that looked out over the Summer Court. They were in Lieren's study, all still-living oak furniture and emerald fabric.

The visitor was human, which surprised Iona. She was a small, finely boned blond woman with the grace and bearing of a Yssan noble, but the cut of her deep blue dress was decidedly foreign. The lines around her eyes deepened slightly when she smiled at Iona. If the half-elf had to guess, she would have put the woman in her forties, but she still had something soft and youthful about her. Iona could feel the magic humming through the woman, akin to that of a Leyan mage rather than elf-magic. The circlet on her brow denoted status, so Iona gave a small curtsey. "Lieren, I didn't realize—" the half-elf started. She didn't really feel like apologizing for the intrusion when her host had other company, but manners demanded it.

Lieren waved a hand airily. "Think nothing of it. You are welcome to join us. After all, we did spend much of this morning in consultation about your problem." She dipped her head slightly to the human woman. "This is Iona Velane herself, darling. She has rather a lot of her mother in her face, but I'm certain that you won't hold it against her."

Iona realized she was being looked at with curiosity but not apparent judgment. "We are not what came before us," the woman said gently. "Lieren explained thy situation and some of thy history to me. I would have sought thee out sooner, when thou wast in Zaeylael, but there was much research to be done ere I had an answer."

The half-elf knew one thing: she was not accustomed to people helping her out of the blue. "I don't want to sound ungrateful, but why?" She stiffened up a little bit, mostly waiting for the other shoe to drop or the price tag to be appended.

Blue eyes looked at her with sympathy. "It is a plight I am altogether too familiar with. I was fortunate. Most are not. When the sky falls, we all need people to catch us. While I'm certain Kája Chvátal would gladly do so for thee, she cannot be expected to do it alone."

"You know Kája?"

"Aye, though not well," the blonde said. "Her father was a friend, a good man. He fought beside the old High King against the Princes of Iron. People like to Drahomír and his daughter are not easily found. Good-hearted, noble, and loyal to the bone. Thou art fortunate to have the love of one, and I am ever a champion for love."

Lieren nodded thoughtfully. "Indeed, a nauseating sentimentalist." She leaned back in her chair. "But you didn't just come here to help answer a magical conundrum. Your son is doing as well as can be expected considering everything that has happened, darling. I am no longer welcome in Tamaris, nor Yssa, but my scrying is enough to catch snippets of his life and I'm far closer to the news than you are. Not a peep in answer, of course." She glanced away from Iona to study the human's expression. Iona looked her way as well.

There was something immeasurably sorrowful in those blue eyes, matched by a wistful smile. "'Tis too much to hope for aught more, methinks. I take comfort in the knowledge he does well." It was the voice of an aching heart consoling itself as it had become accustomed to. "Is he much like to Andi?"