Harlequin Nocturne May 2016 Box Set

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Harlequin Nocturne May 2016 Box Set Page 40

by Susan Krinard


  “One of the first principles of the Alliance is democracy. Each dynasty is to be given a vote to choose its own leader.” Cal’s voice was somber.

  Lorcan caught on fast. “And if the faeries vote for Moncoya, that’s the end of the Alliance?”

  “None of the other leaders will sit at a table that includes the man who has for centuries tried to systematically destroy them by invading their territories. I have to find this challenger and at least offer the faeries an alternative to Moncoya. King Ivo was loved and is still remembered.”

  Lorcan nodded. “No promises, but I’ll try.” Even as he said the words, his thoughts went to Tanzi. What would she make of this new turn of events?

  Cal’s unusual light silver eyes scanned Lorcan’s face again, as if reading his thoughts. “Take care on this mission, my friend. Princess Tanzi is not just any girl.”

  The somber mood dispersed with Lorcan’s laughter. “Don’t I already know it?”

  CHAPTER 11

  “The oak tree is the guardian of both worlds. Rina told me that in ancient times, mortals believed its roots anchored it in the mortal realm while its branches reached into Otherworld. That gave it a unique role, spanning both psychic vision and soulful thought.”

  They were standing in the garden at the rear of the palace. Darkness was looming and the first silence of night was descending. Inside the palace everyone was preparing for dinner, and Vashti had assured her that they would be the only ones around.

  Tanzi regarded the huge tree thoughtfully, then turned to her sister with a shrug of her shoulders. “I’m getting nothing. You?”

  “Have a little patience.” Vashti spoke to her in the tones of a parent chiding a disobedient toddler. Reaching up to the lower branches, she pulled two acorns from the tree and held her palm up so that Tanzi could see them by the light of the flashlight she carried.

  “The acorn is a psychic talisman. Rina said if we exchange acorns, it will help to strengthen our bond.”

  “The bond we don’t have, you mean?” Tanzi asked gloomily.

  “Look, I’m not the one heading off into uncharted waters with a man I barely know so that I can join the Valkyrie and spend the rest of my life lurching from one bloody battle to the next. Now, do you want to do this or not?”

  “Sorry. Let’s do it.” She took an acorn from her sister’s hand and closed her fingers around it. Was it her imagination or did she feel something? The faintest tingle, a slight heat against her skin? “What now?”

  “Now we swap acorns.” Vashti’s voice was solemn.

  “Don’t we have to say anything? Isn’t there an incantation that goes with it—?”

  “I love you, Tanzi.” Hearing those words from her sister for the first time shocked her into silence.

  “Oh.” She opened her palm. Vashti took the acorn from it and replaced it with her own. “I love you, too.”

  “Say it again, but not out loud this time.”

  They faced each other in the sweet, pine-scented darkness of an Otherworld nightfall, each clutching the other’s acorn in her hand. Tanzi closed her eyes and felt it immediately. It was a surge of emotion so powerful, so all consuming, it almost knocked her off her feet.

  The acorn isn’t a magic charm. Our love for each other is the talisman. That was what we were missing all those years ago.

  The thought was answered instantly by Vashti’s voice inside her mind. We always had it, we just never knew it was there.

  Tanzi opened her eyes and smiled. You think we can do this no matter how far apart we are?

  I think we can do anything.

  “I’m glad you said that,” Tanzi spoke aloud again. “Because there is something else I need you to do for me.”

  “I’ve already said I’m not going to marry the devil in your place.”

  “Just keep repeating those words each time our father asks and you’ll be fine. No, this task is easier...but not much. You must take my place as the faerie representative on the Alliance.”

  Vashti shook her head decisively. “I wouldn’t know what to do. And I will not betray our father by being part of an organization that seeks to destroy him.”

  Tanzi tried to recall a time in the past when she had managed to convince her sister to change her mind. It must have happened at least once, surely? No, she couldn’t remember a single occasion when she had succeeded in getting Vashti to consider a different point of view. Vashti was as stubborn as their father. One thing was for sure, arguing with her was time-consuming, and time was something Tanzi didn’t have. She wondered if Lorcan might, even now, be down at the lakeside wondering what the hell was keeping her. “Very well, I will ask Cal to find someone else.”

  “Who?”

  “Does it matter? I can’t do it, you won’t do it. The faeries must be represented. I’m sure Cal will choose someone suitable.” She picked up the gym bag. “I have to go.”

  “Wait a minute. When did suitable become good enough for our people? When did Merlin Caledonius become the right person to make faerie decisions?”

  Tanzi paused. This was the moment at which she would normally wade in with an angry riposte about her sister’s contrariness, the conversation would deteriorate into an argument and one of them—usually Vashti—would storm off. A few days of sulky silence would generally ensue. Some newfound perception, aligned perhaps to her recent discovery about her ability to experience emotion, made Tanzi decide to try a new approach. “You’re right.”

  “What?” Vashti regarded her with suspicion.

  “Cal is only half faerie. So is Stella. What do they know? Whom do you think should do it?”

  “How am I supposed to know?” The yellow glow from the flashlight made Vashti’s expression appear belligerent. Scratch that. Made it appear more belligerent than usual.

  “How about General Thomasin? He is well respected.”

  Vashti snorted. “That old toad? He would roll over and show his belly at the first sight of a wolf.”

  Tanzi bit the inside of her lip to hide a smile and searched around for another, equally unsuitable name. “Lord Cornelius?”

  “Have you taken leave of your senses? It’s well-known he’s been in league with Prince Tibor for years. We’d be ruled by the vampires the day after tomorrow.” Vashti heaved a sigh of resignation. “Very well, if those are our only choices, I will have to be the one to do it.”

  “Your sacrifice for our people does you great credit.” Tanzi hoped the note of amusement in her voice wasn’t obvious. “Now I really must go down to the lake to meet Lorcan.”

  “Did you just manipulate me?”

  “I don’t think so. I’m not sure I would know how. Do you feel manipulated?”

  “All I know is I just agreed to something I didn’t want to do and I’m not sure how it happened.” Vashti fell into step next to her. “Has your necromancer friend been teaching you the skill of finagling while you’ve been in the mortal realm? Or is it something you’ve acquired through your familiarity with the earth-born?”

  “If I have, I was unaware of it. But—who knows?—maybe the ability to get people to do what I want might come in handy on the journey ahead.”

  A shiver of anticipation ran through her. Getting Lorcan to do what she wanted was a very interesting proposition, particularly as they were going to be alone together for some time to come. The searing heat between them just before Lisbet and Aydan had interrupted them burned its way into her memory. Every fiber of her being was crying out to explore it further. Whom was she kidding? She didn’t just want to explore it...she wanted to increase that heat to molten-lava intensity, let it scorch her to the point of spontaneous combustion, quench it and then repeat the cycle. Over and over. Would she give in to that impulse or spend her time fighting it? Either way, this was going to be an interesting journey.
She choked back a laugh, so that it came out as a sound somewhere between a cough and a gasp.

  “Are you okay?” Vashti regarded her in surprise.

  “You know what? I really am.”

  * * *

  “Necromancer!”

  At the sound of the woman’s voice, Lorcan turned away from the ornate lake. A figure approached him out of the darkness. Whoever it was held a flashlight in front of her face, and he was momentarily blinded by its light. An object was thrust at his chest and he grasped it instinctively. It was a large bag.

  “Take care of her or I will hunt you down and make you pay.” Although the voice was gruff, he recognized it as Vashti’s.

  “She insisted on coming with me so she could say that to you.” Tanzi spoke from the gloom somewhere behind Vashti. “Have you met my sister?”

  “We’ve not been formally introduced. The last time I saw her this close, she had Cal pinned to the floor with a sword pressed between his shoulder blades.”

  “And if my father had allowed me to kill him then, how different things would be now.”

  Lorcan laughed. “Has anyone ever told you you’re the living image of your father? Even if you’d succeeded in killing Cal before the battle—and the fact that you didn’t had nothing to do with Moncoya and everything to do with the great man himself—I expect the deal with the devil would still have been struck, don’t you?”

  Vashti turned to Tanzi. “You know all those women who say that Lorcan Malone is a charmer?” She turned the flashlight on Lorcan again. “Misguided fools.”

  “Well, nice as it’s been meeting you and spending time chatting like this, we’d better get going.” Lorcan moved to Tanzi’s side. “All of a sudden, I can see why you chose Valhalla.”

  Vashti ignored him. “Keep my talisman with you at all times and I will keep yours. Remember what to do if you should need me.” She gave Tanzi a quick, awkward hug, handed her the flashlight and disappeared into the darkness.

  Tanzi had obviously decided there was no need to shift into her cat form since the all-consuming cloak of an Otherworld night was doing its own job of concealing her identity. There were no streetlights or passersby here. When she spoke again now that they were alone, her voice was strangely quiet and shy. Almost as if they had become strangers again. “Did Cal manage to get us a boat?”

  “Never doubt the big feller. He said there’ll be a boat waiting for us down in the cove. It’ll be newly fitted out, have the provisions we need for the journey on board and there’ll be the most up-to-date maps and charts for the journey we’re to take.” He hoisted his backpack farther onto his shoulder and lifted her bag. “Shall we go?”

  Holding the flashlight in front of her, Tanzi walked alongside him. “How can he do something like that on such short notice?”

  “He’s Merlin. The impossible is what he does best.”

  “Will he also have left detailed instructions on how to sail this boat?”

  Lorcan laughed. “Luckily we won’t need them. Never doubt me either. I told you, I used to go out with the men on the fishing boats when I was a lad. And, over the years, Cal and I have had one or two adventures that have taken us onto the high seas. I might be a bit rusty, but I can handle a boat.”

  “How long have you known Cal?” The probing way she asked the question was the giveaway. She was on to him. And he’d always believed he was good at keeping secrets.

  “Most of my life.” Perhaps if he kept the response deliberately vague she’d leave it alone.

  No such luck. “How many years is that?”

  They came to the edge of the cliff and Lorcan paused, allowing the breeze to cool his face. Why did it matter? After all this time, why was he still guarding his privacy? And from whom? He’d called Tanzi his friend. In return she’d placed her absolute trust in him. Surely he could give a tiny bit of himself in return?

  “A lot,” he said at last. Aware of her eyes on his face in the darkness, he raised his hand. Instantly, a glow, brighter than that of the flashlight, illuminated the scene around them. “I gave up counting after the first few centuries.”

  “I don’t understand. I thought all necromancers were mortal.” Her eyes were twin pools of midnight blue, the ring of fire barely visible.

  “Sure, a pure-blood necromancer is born mortal. But we’re a rare bunch and we don’t like to share too much of our history. What most people don’t know is that there are also hybrid necromancers. Cal and Stella are the most powerful necromancers around, yet they are both half faerie. Although necromancy is unusual, it is not confined to one species. Over the years, I have met satyrs, elves, witches, even demons who had the power in differing degrees. One thing we all have in common is that our gift—the fact that we are necromancers—confers immortality upon us...if we choose to accept it.”

  “So that is why you have lived for so long? You are a pure-blood necromancer who has been granted immortality?”

  Lorcan shook his head. “No, I wasn’t born mortal. I’m one of the hybrids.” Deciding he’d had enough of confidences for one night—hell, he hadn’t confided this much to anyone else throughout the past millennium—he gestured out into the dark space beyond the cliff edge, silencing her before she could question him further. “Shall we go and check out this craft Cal has organized for us? For all we know he could be playing a trick on us. We could find ourselves setting off for Valhalla on a raft with two paddles.”

  Although there appeared to be a sheer drop down to the tiny bay below the cliffs, there was a series of steep steps cut into the rock. Tricky enough to navigate in daytime, it could be treacherous at night. Lorcan went first, lighting the way for Tanzi, who, sure-footed as her inner cat, followed him easily. So much for chivalry. He suspected she was unaware of his attempt at courtesy. It was another reminder, if he needed one, of her unconventional upbringing.

  Minutes later, their feet crunched onto the sandy beach and, sure enough, Cal had been true to his word. A dinghy was pulled up onto the sand and, as Lorcan raised his hand higher so that a wider area could be illuminated, he saw a larger vessel bobbing on the waves in the deeper water. It looked bigger than anything he had handled before, but he decided not to mention that fact to Tanzi. I’m a fast learner. How hard can it be?

  Tossing their bags into the dinghy, he tugged off his boots and rolled up his jeans. “Get in and I’ll pull it into the water before starting the motor.”

  Tanzi paused, looking from the dinghy to the sailboat with a bemused expression. “Are we really going to do this?”

  Lorcan started to laugh. “Second thoughts?”

  She seemed to give herself a shake. She definitely gave him a reproachful look. “Of course not.” Tanzi was the only person he knew who could clamber into a dinghy and make it look graceful, Lorcan decided.

  His experience of dinghies had, in the past, not always been positive. He found they tended not to be the most reliable form of transport. Speed, maneuverability and reliability were not the first words he associated with a dinghy. There had been one or two close calls when, if he hadn’t been with Cal—whose magical powers had enabled him to supercharge their vessel—a dinghy would have landed Lorcan in a lot of trouble. This one appeared determined to make amends for its fellows and prove him wrong. It started like a dream and skimmed lightly over the waves, reaching the boat in no time.

  “It’s not what I expected.” Tanzi looked up at the sailboat as the dinghy bumped against its side.

  “What did you expect?” Lorcan busied himself securing the dinghy to the rear of the boat.

  “I don’t know. Something rough and ready. But this looks—” she made a helpless gesture “—slick, even luxurious. As though we were going on a vacation.”

  “Tanzi, rid yourself of that notion right now.” Lorcan threw their bags onto the deck and then sprang from the dinghy to the
boat. Reaching out a hand, he helped Tanzi do the same. “Whatever may be in store for us in the near future, it won’t be anything like a vacation.”

  Although, as they explored the accommodation together, Lorcan was forced to admit that Tanzi was right. The boat really was more upmarket than he had expected. Although compact, it was comfortable and stocked with every provision they would need for the journey. The saloon had a cushioned bench settee and a central chart table that could be used for both dining and map reading. Beyond it there was a spacious aft cabin with a double berth, storage and en suite shower and heads. The whole living area was paneled in light oak wood and the upholstery was new and expensive.

  Tanzi’s eyes were wider than ever. “Could we be on the wrong boat?”

  “It crossed my mind.” Lorcan went to the table and picked up the single sheet of paper that lay on it. Three words were scrawled across it in a familiar hand. Don’t fuck up. It was typical of Cal and strangely reassuring. “But, no, this is definitely ours. This note and the boat’s name say it all.”

  “I didn’t notice the name.”

  “Welcome aboard the Igraine.”

  “Igraine?” Tanzi wrinkled her nose in confusion.

  “The name of King Arthur’s mother. It’s a message from Cal.”

  “Oh.” Tanzi took a moment to digest that information. “There is only one cabin.”

  “So there is.” He kept his eyes steady on hers. Ah, shit. It was no good. He wasn’t cut out to be a seducer. “You take the cabin. I’ll sleep out here.”

  Her lashes swept down, hiding her eyes. “Maybe, before we even consider the sleeping arrangements, we should plan on getting away from here before daylight.”

  “Good thinking. I knew there was a reason why I brought you along, Searc. You can be my first mate.”

  At what point was he going to tell her about his deal with Cal to find the challenger for Moncoya’s crown? How was he going to drop that one into the conversation? By the way, you know how centuries ago your father stole the faerie throne by massacring the rightful king and all his family? Well, it turns out there was a direct descendant, a baby, who escaped the bloody coup. Yeah, his nurse stole away into the night with him. Turns out he’s safe and well somewhere and has no idea who he is. Anyway, while we’re on our travels, I’ve promised to keep my eyes and ears open and see if I can discover his whereabouts. Why? Oh, so he can be brought back to the palace and challenge your father for the crown. That’s right. So he can strip you and your sister of your birthright...your royal titles and status. Your whole identity. So you’ll spend the rest of your lives as objects of scandal and scrutiny. And, of course, the faerie people will be thrown into chaos as your father and the true king slug it out for who will reign.

 

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