Keystone

by Chloe Adler

  Chapter Nine

  White light twinkles behind my eyelids, like little fireflies, and then a flash, brighter than the sun but without the warmth. My eyes fly open but I can’t see anything it’s so bright, so I pin them shut, letting go of my man. But he clings to me, the hard sheath of Sanne pressed between us.

  “Hold on,” he growls in my ear and I wrap my arms and legs around him once again, holding on tightly, even as the cold blade begs me to let go.

  We fall out of the tree and land with a thump in something soft and warm. I shriek and Vasily lets go of me. Sanne falls from my hand and I slither backward but can’t escape the soft, warm . . . sand? I peek through slitted lids, ready to be blinded again, but the area is hazy orange instead. My eyes shoot open and I leap back again, surprised to find myself no longer in the forest of Calixto at the base of the loke tree. But there is another tree looming above us. It looks dried and dead, a shell of something long passed. White branches reach up, trying to spear the overly bright sun. Small boulders and tiny rocks surround its base.

  Vasily stands over me, his hand extended, and I reach for it, then grab Sanne and stick her back into the sheath on my hip.

  “Intruders, advance,” a sharp voice slices through the haze.

  I clutch at my king’s hand and he pulls me against his half-naked body as sounds of metal on metal march toward us.

  In moments we are surrounded by knights, actual knights, dressed all in black armor with long black lances.

  “Ready, aim,” the sharp voice commands and they pound their weapons on the ground and then all at once point them toward us.

  “You will stand down,” Vasily commands. “I am your king. Take me to Lady Katrina.”

  One man dressed in copper armor takes a step forward and lifts his visor. “You do not look like our king. You’re not even wearing a shirt. Our king . . .”

  “It’s been many years since you’ve seen your king,” Vasily says. “Take me to my sister immediately.”

  “Seize them,” the man in copper says.

  The men close in. Vasily pulls me tighter, leaning close to whisper in my ear, “I’m sorry.” I freeze, my entire body shaking.

  “Let go of the girl,” the copper guard commands.

  “I won’t let them hurt you,” Vasily says. “Be brave.”

  Really? He’s telling me to be brave right now? I have no idea where we are, not really. I mean, this must be Juna, but it’s completely unfamiliar to me. I don’t know how stable these crazy guards are. I don’t know what they plan to do to me. They don’t believe Vasily is their king. Shit, even I don’t believe Vasily is their king.

  Two men tear me from Vasily’s arms and I scream, kicking and flailing, but it’s not use. They’re bigger and stronger. I’m barefoot and my feet slam into their metal armor, which hurts like hell. Forget about scratching, biting and hair pulling.

  “Vasily, help!” I scream and the men freeze.

  Vasily uses the moment to wrench his arms free of the guard restraining him, then takes several steps toward me, holding my gaze, his eyes tight and rimmed with fear.

  “What are you doing?” the man in the copper armor says.

  “Commander, she called him by the former king’s name,” says the guard who let Vasily go.

  “Fine,” says the commander. He looks at Vasily. “Come with us willingly, and we’ll have the queen sort this out.”

  Vasily nods. “Please unhand my mate.”

  “We will do no such thing,” says the commander. “Men, take her to the dungeon.”

  Really? They have a fucking dungeon? “Vasily, no.” Oh . . . and he called me his mate. Unfortunately, now is no time to swoon, but I do love the sound of that word.

  “Wait,” Vasily commands and the guards halt. He turns to the commander. “You will swear on you life that she will not come to harm.”

  The commander sways for a moment and I hold my breath. Finally he grunts, “Yes sir, I swear.”

  “Remember, you serve the entire kingdom, not just the queen.”

  The commander grumbles and motions a gloved hand at the guards holding me.

  Vasily catches my eye, mouthing, I love you, hold on.

  “No,” I cry, cranking my head to look at him. He never breaks eye contact with me but the men carry me away down the sandy beach, Sanne bumping against my side. Within a few seconds, Vasily disappears behind a thick orange haze. At least they haven’t taken it from me. Come to think of it, why haven’t they? Why haven’t they even noticed my sword?

  One man throws me over his back and I lie there, humiliated and shamed. There’s no point in hurting my hands and feet by fighting it. I could pull out my sword but slashing and hacking my way through Juna and Vasily’s men would not endear me to anyone. Plus, my lack of sword-fighting skills would likely end up with me impaled on the end of their weapons. Besides, if they can’t see Sanne for some magical reason, I don’t want to draw their attention to it prematurely.

  They turn onto a cobblestone path and head toward a mountain. There’s no castle. There are no houses. No town. No farms. Nothing but an enormous mountain that stretches out of the haze to touch the sky. Several openings dot the base of the mountain, and the brute veers to the left, ducking into one of the doorways.

  He deposits me on the ground and I roll away, trying to stand so I can attempt to run back out, but the other one takes up the entire doorway.

  “Stay,” the beast huffs and then turns to leave.

  “Wait!” I cry out and run after him but he turns to glare at me.

  “Do not make me use force on you.”

  I stop in my tracks. The other man steps aside to let the first one out and I have only a second to wonder how they plan to contain me here before a boulder is rolled across the doorway, leaving me in total darkness.

  Chapter Ten

  I hold my hands out in front of me, trying to find a wall, and then sit down on the hard floor with my back to it. Shuddering, I scoot away from the wall in case there are spiders, insects or worse, dangerous creepy crawlies about. I pull my legs to my chest and wrap my arms around them, not worried about water or food. For now, anyway.

  I fume with white-hot anger. This is no way to greet a long-lost king and his mate. The warm, fuzzy glow the word gave me before is gone now, pecked to death by distrust and discomfort. This is how his people greet strangers? Will his sister be understanding? Will she be happy to see her brother and to meet me? Will she knock the teeth out of her guards for the less-than-stellar accommodations I’ve been left in?

  I tear at the ground over and over. So hard that my nails split but I don’t care. I take my distress out on the hard dirt floor but no one comes to rescue me. I crawl around the room on my hands and knees, less worried about insects now and more worried about escaping this prison. When I find the boulder, I push as hard as I can to move it but it doesn’t budge. I pull Sanne from her sheath, slicing at the rock to no avail. Eventually I lean against the wall and practice one of the meditation techniques that Bodhi taught me. Breathe in, hold my breath low in my belly for the count of two and exhale. Breathe in and count, one. Breathe out and count, one. Breathe in, two. Breathe out, two . . .

  I awaken on the floor. The boulder next to me slides away to reveal a tall woman standing just outside, her hands on her hips, eyes narrowed and nostrils flaring.

  “Jorry, pull her out of there.”

  I stand up. “I can walk out on my own.” I match her angry tone. “Where’s Vasily?”

  “That’s none of your concern. You are nothing, no more significant than a speck of dirt on the bottom of my shoe. You are the help. You will do as you are ordered to do or you will be cast out,” she snarls. “And rest assured, whatever spell you’ve cast on Vasily will wear off or be removed. Give me a reason and we will remove you. Permanently. So tread lightly, human.”

  I bite my tongue, for now. So it’s not just the guards who need an attitude adjustment. What is wrong with this woman? I sincerely h
ope she’s just a court lackey and not Vasily’s sister. But from the looks of her getup, it’s doubtful. The tall, proud woman is draped in a long, black number, but in the dim light I can’t make out the details. Her eyes are heavily lined in jet-black kohl, completing her angry dominatrix look.

  Jorry ducks inside and reaches for me but I duck out of his grasp and walk toward the door, exiting of my own free will and standing next to the woman.

  “I will walk with you. There’s no need for your guards to manhandle me.” I drop my hand to the hilt of my sword.

  “We’ll see.” She narrows her eyes, ignoring my sword. She turns and walks around the mountain and I follow her. The guards take up position behind me.

  She can’t see Sanne either? I’m tempted to whip it out of its sheath in order to find out, but what if it’s the sheath that makes it invisible? But if so, how did Vasily locate it on the grass below the loke tree? Still, nothing has changed. Best to wait and see what happens.

  We walk for a long time. The mountain is much wider than I thought. We pass other openings. Some are blocked with boulders and others aren’t but are too dark inside to see beyond a few feet. The longer we walk, the more I’m sure this woman is no lowly guard. The woman moves like an aristocrat, graceful and erect and utterly convinced of her right to go anywhere. In the dim light, the lace of her long black dress reveals patches of pale skin. Her skin glistens in the orange haze and she turns to look at me, black eyes squinting.

  “What is your name?” I ask, hurrying to catch up to her.

  “Why should I tell you?” she sneers. “You won’t live long enough to use it.”

  Yikes, I pray this nightmare isn’t Katrina. But if she plans on killing me anyway . . . “I could use it right now to address you properly.”

  She makes an unpleasant sound in the back of her throat. “I am Queen Katrina, rightful heir and guardian of this world.”

  My stomach sinks. “But you’re only queen now because Vasily was the king in Tara.”

  She stops and twists around to face me, clenching my upper arms. Though her grip has nothing on Oceane’s. “What do you know of Tara? You’re a human witch not born of our land.”

  I shake her free. “First of all, I’m not a witch, and secondly, I’m the one who helped Vasily get back to Tara.” I jut my chin out. “I’m a synergist.” As soon as I’ve said the word, I regret it. Her mouth gapes open but I can’t reverse the mistake.

  “Liar. But it makes no difference, you’re still beneath me. Beneath us all. Men.” She snaps a finger in the air, and within a second both men flank me, grabbing me where she just let go and lifting me off the ground. I really hope Betty’s curse was a bluff to scare me because there is no way I’m getting this harpy’s consent.

  They march behind her as she turns into a large hole in the mountainside, this one arching and soaring taller than any I’ve seen yet. More guards flank the entrance. I’m carried inside, dangling between the men.

  An array of haphazard naked bodies accosts my eyes. At first, my brain can’t process the sight, so many limbs writhe all over the place. But then understanding arrives with a shock. It seems like I should look away, but there’s nowhere to look. The room is full of a dozen or more young, nubile people engaged in every sexual act I’ve ever heard of and a few I haven’t.

  “Stop!” the queen yells and at once, everyone freezes. The few armored guards—the only ones with clothes on aside from the queen and I—stand at attention as Katrina enters. I crank my head around, looking for Vasily, but I don’t spot him anywhere. Not that I’d expect him to be part of what must be a massive orgy. The cavernous room is lit by candles that sit in niches carved into the walls, their milky wax dripping onto the yellow dirt below. There’s a treacherous-looking staircase cut into the side of the cave wall, winding its way around the room in a circle. At the far end of the room is a throne, also carved from stone, and Katrina moves toward it, dropping onto the seat with a sigh as though she’s the one who just spent hours in a hole in the ground.

  She motions with one lazy twist of her hand for the men to deposit me near her and they do. Then she snaps her fingers at the still-frozen naked bodies. I try and count them as they resume their monkey business, but I’m too embarrassed to keep watching and end up standing at attention, my eyes trained on my feet. My mind whirls. What the hell is going on here and where is Vasily?

  “What’s your name?” The queen eyes me up and down.

  “Amaya.” I look up but keep my gaze soft.

  She snaps her fingers. “Wyclef and Tiernan, now.”

  Two naked men leap up from a floor pile and briefly disappear through a doorway behind her throne. A few seconds later, they return. One clutches a clay bowl filled with unfamiliar yellow berries. The other holds a fan made of feathers. They flank her, and the fanner gets to work fanning while the berry holder feeds her. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Did I just step into the dark ages? Caligula called and wants his shtick back.

  “I’m Vasily’s girlfriend.” I may as well try.

  “Vasily wouldn’t stoop so low. You have no royal blood.”

  “It’s true. Ask him.”

  “Do not. Tell me. What to do.” She turns to one of the guards. “Where is my brat of a sister?”

  I suck in a long stream of air and hold it, tight in my lungs.

  The guard bows. “She’s been summoned, Your Majesty.”

  “Excuse me, Your Majesty.” I drop to one knee and lower my head. Bending a knee may not come easily, but self-preservation does. “Please forgive my insolence.”

  “Well that’s better. You look much more at home on the dirt floor at my feet.”

  I peek up through my hair, thankful the frizz hides my face. She’s smiling. Gag.

  “You may speak.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty. I have no excuse for my disrespect. I’ve never met a queen before.” A lie. Oceane may have scared the crap out of me, but she was ten times the queen this woman is. “I’m confused, out of sorts. The last thing I remember is being in Tara. May I ask where I am now?” Sometimes it’s best to feign ignorance.

  “You are in Juna.” She looks at the man fanning her—Wyclef or Tiernan?—and flashes him a savage smile. When she turns back to me, he winces.

  I lower my head even further. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

  I peek up. She’s running one hand along the backside of the man feeding her berries, her other hand up the leg of the man fanning her. When she reaches his soft bulge, she squeezes cruelly. Ouch. Moans and grunts rise from the floor around me. I do my best not to look.

  Chapter Eleven

  Vasily strides in with another woman following him. I look up and choke on my own saliva, coughing and swallowing quickly. The woman he’s with looks so much like him, there’s no mistaking their familial relation. She wears her long black hair in cornrows, the braids cascading down her back. Her face is a female version of Vasily’s. The same full, berry-colored lips. The same wide, dark brown eyes. The same aristocratic nose and high cheekbones. She is so beautiful to look at it physically hurts, as though she is carved from stone. Vasily is clean and clothed in all white, looking more regal than I’ve ever seen him. His sister wears a similar white robe.

  “Katrina, what have you done to my mate?” He rushes over, lifting me gently from where I’m crouched and running his eyes over me, flinching.

  “So it is true.” Katrina scowls. “You’ve stooped far lower than I imagined.” She raises her chin and looks down on the twins.

  A woman from the floor yelps. “Please no, not that,” she cries.

  I glance past Vasily, my eyes widening.

  A man wielding what looks like an enormous piece of wood clamps a hand over her mouth. Two other men latch on to her arms and flip her over. A third man spreads her butt cheeks, while two others leap in, grinning, to hold her legs open.

  “Oh my God,” I gasp.

  Vasily’s head turns toward the group and his features scrunc
h. “Katrina,” he hisses. “Cease your pleasure slave display, now!”

  Katrina glances at the now writhing, screaming woman. “I’ll do no such thing. It’s just getting to the good part.” Her lips curve in a cruel smile.

  Vasily stands up and takes a step toward the group of out-of-control men. One has the piece of wood poised at the entrance to her backside.

  “No.”

  Vasily’s voice is cold steel. The men look up, glazed eyes going wide. The man wielding the homemade dildo, drops it. “Let go of her,” my king says through gritted teeth. They do, immediately, and the woman scurries away without looking back.

  “Spoilsport,” Katrina mutters.

  Vasily moves back to me, ignoring his sister. He reaches for my limp hand and places it into the hand of the new woman. I shake my head to clear it. Who knows how many other times such a horrific thing was not stopped? I shudder.

  Vasily clears his throat. “Amaya, this is my twin sister, Verity. Verity, this is my life mate, Amaya.”

  Focus, Amaya, your man averted the problem. Verity clutches my hand tighter, holding my gaze. It’s like peering into Vasily’s dark eyes and I let the comfort and safety of those eyes pull me out of the atrocity I just witnessed. In moments, I’m feeling more grounded.