“A good thing I’m not interested in a throne, then,” he returned equably. “And you’re frowning again.”
We’d ascended several internal staircases as we talked, and Phyra elegantly gestured Dafne toward an open doorway. She curtsied to me. “On that note, Your Highness, I think I will excuse myself to rest my tired legs. I’ll be either in my rooms or in this promised library, should you have need of me.”
“Coward,” I muttered after her.
Phyra continued down the hallway, showed us into a large suite of rooms at the end, said something gracious sounding, and left via another door. It took me a moment to realize she wasn’t coming back. Harlan looked toward the one great bed, folded his arms, and raised his eyebrows at me.
“Andi and I are going to have words,” I said, wandering over to the wide windows, with more of the amazing view and a surprising amount of privacy. Only someone out at sea could look in to see us.
“She loves you and wants you happy.”
“And she figures me sharing a bed with you will see to that?”
He’d moved up behind me, bracing his hands on the window ledge to bracket me with his arms. His lips brushed the back of my neck, sending shivers through me. “I love you and want you happy, too. I can sleep on the floor, if you prefer.”
The tranquil sea glittered. Had my mother sat in a window like this, watching it, the way she had in the western windows of Ordnung, always gazing off toward Annfwn?
“I can’t think about these things, Harlan. The future feels too far away. I need to keep my focus on the next immediate step. On the moment.”
“Let’s enjoy the moment, then.” He kissed under my ear, in the soft, sensitive hollow. “What would you most like to do? A run on the beach? Some sparring? Stay here and make love?”
I could almost imagine that, sinking into the netting-draped bed with him and indulging in some love play with the warm breezes blowing in. The way his mouth caressed my neck, the delicious flutters that sent through me, made it seem possible. But I couldn’t face coming apart again like I had the night before.
“I’ve never run on sand before.”
“Then you’re in for a treat. Let’s see about changing clothes and do that.”
The closet boasted a selection of the typical Tala gear, though, as I’d predicted, none were large enough to fit Harlan. He solved the problem by doffing the leather vest and using a blade to cut off a pair of trousers he’d brought. In his white sleeveless shirt and the shorts, he looked even more impressively muscular. And enticing. He raised a brow at my attention.
“Change your mind?”
“No. Though I feel silly in this getup.”
None of the trousers provided would fit me, either—all ending at the knee so I looked like the quickly growing child of impoverished parents. I’d resorted to one of the filmy gowns—relieved to shuck my own stifling fighting leathers—with a flowing uneven hem and ribbon ties at the shoulders.
“You look gorgeous in it, actually. Though the sword belt diminishes the effect. It doesn’t look comfortable.”
I’d taken off most of my knives, keeping only a few, just in case. I hesitated to leave the sword behind, however. Not just because I felt naked without it, but I didn’t like to let the Star out of my reach, especially given the great interest in it. Then again, nobody but Andi and I knew where I had it.
Harlan, with his uncanny perception, seemed to follow my thoughts, gaze dropping to the topaz. Moving slowly, as if not to startle me, he came close enough to rub a thumb over the jewel, which still glowed with a constant heat.
“Very beautiful,” he said. “And very clever.”
My mouth had gone dry and I wasn’t sure what to say, even had the words come easily to my tongue.
“Would you trust me to wear it for you? That way we can have it at hand, but you won’t be so encumbered in the dress.”
“All right,” I agreed, surprising both of us. I unbuckled the belt and the gown unbunched, definitely better, unthreaded the sheath from it, and handed the sheathed sword to Harlan, feeling much as I had when he’d gazed on my bare breasts. Oddly intimate. As if he felt the same sense of ceremony, he added my sword to his belt on the opposite side from his.
Then he grinned at me and touched my cheek. “Thank you.”
“I should be thanking you—you’re the one acting as my page and sword bearer.”
“It would be my honor.” He bowed ostentatiously, a mischievous bent to his smile. “Let’s go play.”
Funny that he called it play—just as Andi had—because the afternoon felt that way. It took a while for me to banish the nagging sensation that I’d forgotten something, so rarely did I go without my sword. In the light gown, going barefoot because boots would not do, I also felt more free and unencumbered than—well, maybe ever.
We followed the road down the cliff face, discovering ladders here and there that let us cut through some of the endless loops. Harlan spotted them, seeing children clambering up and down and goading me to try it also, whooping in delight when he discovered a rope one that worked like a pulley system, dropping him quickly down an entire level.
No one bothered us. In fact, they gave us the studious inattention we’d encountered everywhere. A Tala version of privacy in close quarters, I suspected. The kids showed more open curiosity, tagging along behind us and then, once they grew bolder, showing us more of their shortcuts, including a final dripping series of tunnels that opened onto the shimmering sands of the beach.
It burned my feet some, having absorbed sun all day, and sucked at my leg muscles, forcing me to work harder just to walk. “I might not be doing much running,” I commented, feeling the burn already. “This is more of a workout than climbing that road.”
“Very good for leg strength, yes.” His powerful legs churned through the loose sand, thigh muscles working easily. “In Dasnaria we have beach running as part of our training program. It weeds out the . . . less committed.” He grinned and I nearly felt sorry for those soldiers. “However, we need not go through that today.”
Instead, he showed me how to run where the waves had wet and dampened the sand, at the edge of the gentle surf. It felt odd, with my breasts unbound, but they aren’t large, so they didn’t bother me overmuch. We jogged companionably for some distance, passing more and more of the extensive cliff city. The soft, moist air made for easy running, flowing gently in and out of my lungs, as nourishing as the sunshine on my skin. After a time, however, my feet grew sore.
Ruefully, I examined the reddening sole of one foot, holding my ankle in my hand as I looked over my shoulder. “Clearly I have worn boots too much—my feet need toughening.”
Harlan traced the arch, where my skin looked as pale and wrinkled as a fish, making me jump. “Ticklish? At last I’ve found a weakness, a chink in your formidable armor.”
“Don’t even think about it, or I will cut your throat as you sleep.”
“Is it any wonder I’ve fallen in love with you?” He took my hand and guided me into the shallow water. “The salt will help.”
The sun lowered toward the horizon, the sea darkening from that brilliant aquamarine to a deeper violet, as we walked back. Other people walked as we did, some holding hands. Others in family groups, chattering and enjoying the evening. A shouting group of kids cut directly in front of us, running at top speed for the water and shape-shifting in midair into brightly colored fish that plopped into the water, leaping and swimming.
Harlan shook his head in bemusement. “I wonder when I’ll become accustomed to such sights.”
“I’m sure I never shall.”
“If the enemy we chase possess similar abilities, they’ll pose quite a challenge. I’m envisioning trained fighters with your speed and flexibility, plus the ability to shift into a lethal predator.” He huffed out a breath. “I wish I had more men with me.”
I felt much the same, missing my Hawks and being able to count on them. “It sounds as if Andi and Rayfe pla
n to accompany us—and they’ll bring loyal fighters of their own.” I hoped.
“I’m sorry I said anything. You weren’t worrying for a while there.”
“Tomorrow will bring what it will. This has been a nice afternoon. Relaxing.” Something I’d never seen myself doing. “I’ve liked spending it with you.”
He stopped and tugged me into an embrace, smiling. “I’ve liked it, too. An unexpected treasure.” He kissed me, softly at first, then deeper when I wound my hands behind his thick neck and opened my mouth to him, to the deep, drugging sensations that swam through me. His hands roamed over me, carefully keeping to my back, my waist, the outside line of my hips, but in the thin fabric of the Tala dress, every caress penetrated to my skin as if I wore nothing at all.
Though people occasionally passed, talking softly, one man singing, their presence didn’t bother me. It seemed that Harlan and I existed in an amber bubble of sunshine and heat, untouched by the rest of the world.
By the time we returned to the house high on the cliff, it had grown full dark—but Andi and Rayfe had not returned. Smiling Tala brought us a meal, so Harlan and I dined on the balcony of our rooms. We put out all the lamps, keeping only the candle on our table to eat by, all the better to enjoy the startling starscape descending to the calm waters. As with the night before, the food tasted sublime—brighter and fresher than even Ordnung could command. With such a bounty, we could relieve much of the hunger of the Twelve Kingdoms.
A thought that no doubt would make Rayfe and his Tala council feel justified in their suspicions. Still, I found it difficult to reconcile that Annfwn enjoyed so much while my own people suffered.
“Were I King of the Tala,” Harlan said, in an uncanny echo of my thoughts, “I would never agree to take down the barrier. To do so would only invite pillaging of the richness of this land.”
“How would you carry the goods over the mountains, though?”
He squinted out at the sea. “The oceans all connect. The magical barrier must extend all around, else the water would not be so warm. Take that barrier down and you could sail all the ships in that you pleased.”
It made for an interesting puzzle. “The Twelve has never needed much of a navy, so our ships are primarily for fishing and trade—and those are located mainly on the southern and eastern coasts. I’m given to understand that sailing around the Crane Isthmus is a challenging voyage. Though I believe only the adventurers have tried it. There has never been a strong incentive to ply trade along the west coast.”
“Or not one anyone knew about before.”
“I really hope you two are not plotting how you’d invade Annfwn by sea,” Andi said, emerging into our ring of candlelight. She looked tired and irritated.
I sat back in my chair. “Would you believe that it was more of an academic exercise?”
“Actually, from you, yes.” She poured herself a glass of wine. “But do me a favor and don’t let Rayfe overhear that sort of thing.”
“Difficult council meeting?”
She sighed. “Yes. Certain factions . . . are not happy. News of this Temple of Deyrr has people shaken. There are some among us who know something about them. Nothing good.”
“You told them about that?”
She returned my gaze steadily, without flinching. “Did you think I wouldn’t?”
In truth, it hadn’t occurred to me, or I might have attempted to extract a promise of secrecy from her. Water under the bridge now. “We may not have a formal alliance, beyond your marriage—which goes a long way in my mind—but I’d like to think we’re on the same side of this. I’d appreciate any information or assistance your people can provide.”
“I’m working on it.” Her dry tone spoke volumes about the resistance she’d encountered. Her gaze fell to my sword, which I’d laid on the bench beside me. “May I see it?” she asked. She said it carefully enough that it was clear she appreciated that Harlan might not know.
I handed her the sheathed sword, pommel up, the depthless topaz gleaming like its own candle flame. “The Star of Annfwn,” I said, for both their benefits, and in the interest of all being on the same side. “Whatever that means.”
She rubbed the pad of her thumb over it, the same way I had a habit of doing. “It’s hot.”
“Has been since we crossed the border.”
Raising her eyebrows at that, she held it up to the light, turning it. “And it’s a perfect sphere?”
“Yes, very smooth. No facets.”
“She didn’t tell you anything about it when she gave it to you?”
“Not any more than I’ve already told you. I was young. You were still in the nursery and Ami not yet born. There might have been more that I don’t remember.”
“Doubtful. You remember every thrice-damned thing.”
“Can you tell me more about it?”
“Nothing specific. It sort of focuses and orders magic, much like other parts of Annfwn do, so I recognize it in that way.”
“You were born and she knew you were the one with the mark when she gave it to me—why didn’t she give it to you instead?”
Andi handed the sword back to me and briskly rubbed her palms together, as if wiping off water. “Salena didn’t do anything without a plan—long-range ones that stagger me to imagine how she followed visions from that far out. Clearly she knew you’d need this tool to focus your own magic, for something you’ll need to do.”
“Except I don’t have—”
“I know, I know.” She rose and, with an affectionate smile, surprised me by bending to plant a kiss on my brow. “You think you don’t have any magic. We’ll leave at dawn, so I’m off to bed in the hopes of being awake enough not to fall off Fiona.”
“As if you’ve ever fallen off a horse in your life.”
She laughed. “See? We know each other well. Good night, Captain Harlan. Rest well and be good to my sister.”
“She’s a very interesting woman,” Harlan commented. “I did not hear her approach.”
“Andi has always been very good at not being noticed when she doesn’t want to be. Rather the opposite of Ami, who stands out like the sun breaching the horizon, turning night into day.” I yawned, surprised that I was sleepy. The good food, better wine, sunshine, and relaxation, no doubt.
Harlan rose and blew out the candle. “Let us follow your sister’s example, then. Dawn will come soon enough. Do you want me to sleep on the floor?”
“No.” It would be silly, given that we’d already slept in each other’s arms, more than once. “But, I don’t think I—”
He stopped me with a tender brush of his fingers on my cheek. “I read you well enough now, and you’re hardly shy. When you want more of me, I’ll know. Until then, I’m happy to feel you beside me.”
I found a short, light gown to wear to bed. Harlan simply stripped and climbed in. After a moment’s hesitation, I laid my sword next to the bed on the floor. If only the punsters could see. I thought he might have fallen asleep already, but he shifted when I slid under the sheet, extending his arm so I could snuggle against him, my head pillowed in the fold of his shoulder, which had already begun to feel natural and right.
I drifted into an easy sleep and vivid dreams.
I stood in the court at Ordnung, empty but for me. In my hand, I held the Star of Annfwn, a perfect sphere unfettered by the metal setting of the sword hilt. It burned my palm, glowing as hot and bright as the star it was named for. Though the white marble hall blazed clean and bright, shadows fluttered around the edges, disappearing when I tried to look at them directly.
I tried to draw my sword, but I couldn’t seem to move. Something whispered behind me, and though I attempted to spin to face it, I couldn’t. As if seeing myself from another’s eyes, I realized I wore a gown fashioned of metal. Like my battle armor but welded at the joints, covering my whole body. Instead of having articulated limbs, the sleeves, bodice, and long skirt were frozen metal—appearing to flow, but rigid and unmovable. It encase
d me like a cage. I couldn’t move no matter how I fought to, to fight the thing crawling up behind me, breathing hot on my neck.
Flinging myself awake, I found I’d turned in my sleep, so my back was to Harlan. He’d draped an arm and leg over me and breathed heavily in sleep, his warm breath the obvious trigger for my dream. Still, the dregs of the nightmare clung and I couldn’t bear to lie still. Easing out from under his bulk, I slipped out the open doors to the balcony and the soft, warm night.
I poured myself some wine and paced the length of the balcony for a while, steadying my pounding heart with even breathing, walking off the dregs of the dream. If I’d known the place a little better, I’d have found a place to run a few forms, sweated out the dread those flickering shadows had left behind. Instead I finally sat and watched out over the sea.
And waited for dawn to arrive.
28
“You should have wakened me,” Harlan grumbled.
“Why should we both miss sleep?” I returned mildly as I strapped on my sword and made a final check of my various blades.
“Because, Ursula, you don’t have to face things alone.”
“I wasn’t ‘facing’ anything. I woke up early is all.”
“What woke you?”
“Probably the fact that you were crushing me and hogging the bed. You’re just annoyed that you didn’t feel me get up.”
“What ‘annoys’ me is that you continue to lie to me about how you feel.” He came over and grasped my arms, searching my face. “Do you think I can’t see the shadows in your face this morning, can’t smell the wine on your breath or feel the tension coming off of you?”
I pulled away, shrugging off his hands. “Don’t worry—I’ll be fine to fight if we encounter trouble.”
He barked out a laugh. “That’s my last concern. You would no doubt find a way to kill all the Tala rather than fail to protect your sisters. But you’re not ducking this so easily. What upset you?”
The Twelve Kingdoms Page 27
