Ban looked around his father’s broad body and saw her.
Elia did not care about the consequences: she ran and threw herself at Ban, arms around him desperately. He was ready, holding her tight back. “I didn’t know,” he whispered fast in her ear. “I’m sorry. I would have warned you.”
“No,” she said, clutching at him. “Why do you leave?”
“Elia, stop,” her father said, putting a hand on her shoulder and squeezing.
She shook her head, buried her face in Ban’s neck.
“Let the princess go, my wayward son,” Errigal commanded, jovial, as if this were all a humorous mistake. “You’ve parted before, and this is no different.”
Ban shifted, loosening his grip, but Elia put her cheek to his.No, she whispered in the language of trees.Mine.
The king jerked at Elia. “Now, daughter,” he said, voice deep with authority.
“It is different,” she said, leaning away only slightly. She looked into Ban’s eyes. Pain haunted them, and she knew she was right.
“The boy goes to Aremoria,” King Lear said, “to join his cousins’ retainers. It is a good position for a bastard, especially for one with his stars. It is the best he can hope for in this world, and both of you should appreciate that.”
“It’s too far! He won’t be able to hear the island wind at all.” Elia whirled to face her father. “He is part of Innis Lear, Father. Don’t send him away. Let him join the retainers here and learn amongst his own people.”
Lear’s nose wrinkled. “My retainers are all star-blessed; this boy is not. His wrongful birth and dangerous stars offend us. And he must be fartheraway, so as to end the influence his stars have upon you. Your stars deserve more from you both.”
Horror opened up her face. “Father!” she breathed, eyes wide, having never before realized how deeply he scorned Ban.
“You’re jealous,” Ban said quietly. “Elia doesn’t love you best, and she doesn’t hate wormwork like you do, because she’s not a coward.”
The king stepped forward, hand raised, and Elia threw herself between her father and Ban, ducking, waiting for the explosion of pain.
It did not come.
“Get away from him,” Lear said, dangerously soft.
Fear slid through her blood, freezing her still and silent.
Ban was wrenched away from her as Errigal dragged him to a horse. “Get on, boy,” he growled, rough in his attempt to boost Ban up.
Lear took Elia by the back of the neck and held her. “This is the right thing,” he said. “The dragon-tail moon set too near Calpurlugh on your birthday, too near those base roots—that influence will ruin you. And if it poisons your heart, it will poison all the island.”
Tears fell hot and straight down Elia’s cheeks. She said no more, staring at Ban.
He returned her stare, face ashen in the dawn light, and Elia remembered leaning against the rose-vine-covered wall in the garden only yesterday, Ban’s head in her lap; she’d toyed with the ends of his thick hair and traced the shape of his lips. He’d said,Tell me a prophecy for us,and she’d replied,I am the stars to your roots, Ban Errigal. Together we are everything we need.
But if she’d taken the time to think through the star patterns as they had been, instead of answering merely as she wanted, would she have foreseen this? In enough time to change it?
Why hadn’t she taken the star-signs seriously before now?
Had Elia lost her way in the worms and roots? Could her father be right about her focus?
She moved her lips in the shape of his name.
Rory was beside her, suddenly, taking her hand. “I’m sorry,” he said very softly, voice thick with regret. “I’m so sorry, Elia.”
She nodded. Of course he was sorry; he’d miss Ban, too. But not like she would, not as if his heart were sliced in two. Then Rory was gone, joining his brother and father, and Errigal’s party left through the thick gate.
The wind teased at her ears, licking her hair, and said,Don’t let me go, Elia.
Elia could not speak a response, in any language. Her heart too full of tearing, crashing pain. She gasped and held her breath, held everything still.
