the goddess of fertility and prosperity, so I’m sure you can see her appeal. Her brother, Marton, controls war and conquest. He is also popular.”
She gradually turned to face him. Why had he brought her here? Nothing she could say would change his ultimate goal, so why waste time “getting to know each other”? She had no objection to wasting time. The longer he delayed, the more hope she had that her parents would find her. Still, it was puzzling.
“If this isn’t a temple, why do people come here?”
“To remember, to meditate, and to mourn.”
“Who are we going to mourn?” She took a step back and reached for E’Lanna. Had he only brought her here to give his men time to… E’Lanna responded with a calming wave, assuring Echo that she was well.
“Your sister will not be harmed,” he snapped. “My orders are obeyed. We are here to mourn my brother.”
“Your brother?” The sudden surge of fear receded, leaving her weak and shaky. He took her arm and led her to the smooth bench extending from the crystal wall.
“His name was Sekall.” He sat beside her, his hand sliding down to interlace their fingers.
“What’s your name?”
He hesitated, his thumb lightly caressing her skin. “Call me whatever you like.”
“I think you’ll get tired of hearing ‘bastard’.”
“My name is Varrik, but I’m breaking the rules just to tell you. Females are claimed by one master, so that is the only name a female needs to know.” One corner of his mouth curved as he continued to stroke her hand.
There was no way she would ever call him master. Still, rekindling his temper didn’t seem wise. “How did your brother die?”
Raising his head, he met her gaze as he explained, “He was executed when I was twelve. They bound him in the sparring area, forced him to his knees, then slit his throat and allowed him to bleed to death. The stain remains to this day, a reminder to all of his treachery.”
His voice never faltered, but anguish erupted in his gaze. Her hand was halfway to his face before she realized what she was doing. “Why was this done to him? What were his crimes?” She lowered her hand to the bench beside her, refusing to respond to his pain.
“He spoke out against the elders and encouraged others to question the Customs. He claimed we had once been slaves to the House of Joon, and now we were laosters , living ghosts, hollow and obsolete. He spread discontent and promoted rebellion, so they had no option but to silence him.”
She held her breath, afraid to shatter his restrained mood and bring back the aggressive seducer. Why was he telling her this? What did he expect her to say? Dear gods, had they made him watch his brother’s execution? She didn’t need to ask. The torment in his eyes told her all she needed to know.
Releasing her breath in a slow, steady rush, she asked, “Who are ‘they’? Who silenced your brother?”
“The Council of Elders.” He turned his face away, his hand still clutching hers. “They preserve the Customs and enforce the laws. Sekall had been warned, he had been punished, but he wouldn’t alter his course. He wouldn’t…”
Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she chose her words carefully. “Did you agree with Sekall’s teachings?”
“There was logic in what he said. There was hope. Still, there is no place for us in the world above, so that hope was cruel and meaningless. We are what we have always been.” He looked at her again, his gaze intense and commanding. “I am not strong enough to challenge the elders, but my son will be.”
She tugged against his hold as the pieces fell into place. “My lineage doesn’t guarantee your son this power. Mystic abilities are a fickle thing.” E’Lanna had been gifted with prophetic dreams and the ability to see events as they unfolded in distant locations, while Echo’s only significant gift was her extraordinary memory. All of her other abilities amounted to little more than