Tara Geonette smiled at Lysona. She thought it held the perfect blend of seduction and charm.
Time to talk Lysona into the next phase of her plans for the order. Of her plans for her own immortality.
They were walking outside, near the back of the estate. There was a small grove of hardwoods and thin pines, giving them a sense of privacy. The day was warm, with a tender breeze caressing them and giving voice to the leaves on the trees.
Tara didn’t care for walks in nature. There was too much to do. Why waste it walking with no task in mind?
Lysona liked these walks, though, insisting they take one once a week. She spoke of feeling peaceful, in touch with the plants that bore the ingredients she used in her potions and poisons.
The things Tara did to please the woman. She almost let a sigh escape. This walk had a purpose, at least. She needed to be on her best behavior.
A giggle reached their ears as they approached the grass field near the school. Elayne Moorford was teaching the youngest children in the order this season. Teaching at this age was more about seeing which children showed natural magic abilities, a random spark or glow from their hands. Otherwise, she mostly acted as a nanny for the order’s kids for a few hours a day.
Dunore and Mira Meric, Lysona’s children born from Bedore’s assault, could be seen chasing Tara the Younger around the field. Tara had been the one giggling. The three children had recently turned three, Lysona’s children being three months older than Tara. Twins, they’d been born early.
All three were unsteady on their feet, as only three year olds could be. Tara tripped, still giggling. Flames shot from her small hands setting the grass on fire. Between the fire itself, and her shocking deep red hair, the contrast with the green grass gave Tara the Younger a captivating aura. Perhaps it was simply how much she looked like her mother.
Dunore and Mira, having stopped when Tara fell, started pointing at the fire, laughing in delight at the dancing light it produced. Elayne was there within seconds, casting ice and snow on the flames, extinguishing them before much of the grass caught.
Young Tara had been shooting flames, and also bolts, from her hands since she was six months old. Elayne informed Tara any time young Tara cast magic during school. It’d become a daily occurrence.
Dunore and Mira were showing magical abilities now, too, both having fired small sparks in the past few months.
Little Lysona and Tristand also continued to show strong abilities. Any children Bedore had fathered were. As Tara expected, hers with him exceptionally so.
Dunore and Mira were stand outs, as well. Lysona’s strength was alchemy, but members of her family were renowned for their restoration skills. Tara was glad the children showed such promise. She needed children in the order strong in magic. Spreading Bedore’s seed around had been essential to ensure the order’s descendants passed powerful magic down.
Lysona had worried Tara. Her alchemy was unrivaled. Tara admired what she could do with poisons. Her fertility potion was unique. All these years of giving it out to members of the order, and none were the wiser. Twins had abounded, and no couple trying had failed at becoming pregnant. Her potion was as essential to the order expanding as Bedore had been.
Her magic, though, lacked. Whether destruction or conjuration, even illusion spells, she was average at best. Tara had worried her children might be weak. Bedore had come through, though, in the one thing he was good at.
Now, for the next phase. Planting the seed while the children were young.
Dunore, Mira, and young Tara had resumed chasing each other around the yard.
“I love how close our children are,” Tara said. She reached out and grabbed Lysona’s hand. She caressed the inside of the woman’s wrist, a soft spot for her, much like the inside of her elbow was. She heard Lysona’s breath catch.
“Me, too, my love,” Lysona said. She’d taken to calling Tara love, interchanging it with queen. For now, Tara tolerated it.
“Remember how we spoke of having children together,” Tara said. She continued tracing her finger around Lysona’s wrist. They’d stopped at the edge of the grove. Tara leaned against a pine tree marking the end of the field.
Lysona looked at her, curious and, as always, with a deep longing. “Yes, love, of course.”
Tara deepened her smile then turned and pointed at their children.
“Dunore and Tara would be perfect together,” she said.
Lysona, already of fair skin, and a woman who didn’t spend much time outside, turned paler than a vampire.
“But…” she stammered. “Aren’t they half-siblings?” She looked at Tara with wide eyes, confused.
“No,” Tara lied. She squeezed Lysona’s hand, not too tightly, she didn’t want her to flinch away. “Dunore has yours and Bedore’s blood. Tara has mine. That’s how we combine Geonette and Meric blood. Their children, our grandchildren, would be perfect.”
Lysona had flinched at the mention of Bedore. She didn’t pull her hand out of Tara’s grasp, though. “I…I assumed…”
“After what Bedore did to you,” Tara whispered. “I could never have been with him again.”
“I was thinking you were with him…before.” Lysona’s voice dropped on the last word.
“No,” Tara said. “We’d not been intimate in some time.”
“Who is Tara’s father?”
Tara smiled at her. She hoped she conveyed a secretive firmness. “With a member of the order you don’t need to worry about.”
“What is his name?!” Jealousy had taken root in Lysona’s voice. It gave her a sharp pitch.
“Someone you don’t need to worry about,” Tara repeated. She straightened up, no longer leaning against the pine, and pulled Lysona to her, pressing her against her body. She dug her fingers into Lysona’s neck.
“Don’t be jealous,” Tara said. She let a warning creep into her tone. “I needed a third child. He meant nothing. I won’t be with him again. I’m committed to you.”
She moved her hand off Lysona’s neck and ran her fingers lightly along Lysona’s left ear, another soft spot.
“I do things for the order’s future. For our future,” she dropped her voice back down to a whisper, to a tease. “I’m laying down the order’s foundation. Our family tree. Dunore and Tara together are vital. The trunk. Your blood and mine together forever.”
Lysona’s face and eyes seemed to battle several emotions at once. That longing, so deep, so easy to manipulate, was fighting against the fear, confusion, jealousy, and anger.
“I…what about Mira?” Lysona asked.
“I’ll make sure she’s with someone not born of Bedore. I won’t let bloodlines cross,” Tara lied again. “I’m tracking every birth, all paternity.”
She gently kissed Lysona. “I know what combinations should give us the strongest mages to continue the order. Trust me.”
The longing won out.
“Okay,” Lysona said. Her breath caught. “I trust you, my queen.”
“Good!” Tara gave her a genuine smile. She let Lysona go and looked back at the children. Elayne was ushering them back inside the school.
“I have something else to discuss with you.”
Lysona had been staring out at the children, as well, following Dunore as he ran around the field, chasing a butterfly. The last child Elayne had to wrangle inside. She turned back to Tara. Her curiosity seemed more serious this time.
“Yes?”
“I’m ready to perform what we discussed,” Tara said. She pulled Lysona close again. The sun had shifted, enveloping them in deeper shadow. Anyone looking at the grove of trees from the field wouldn’t know the two women were standing there.
“It’s time the order took the next step to immortality,” Tara said. She ran her fingers through Lysona’s hair. “I want you to be the first.”
“Of course, my love,” Lysona said. That longing was back. “What have you decided to call it?”
Tara smiled. For a rare moment, her green eyes shone with happiness.
“I’m keeping it simple. We’ll call it ‘The Ritual’.”