My days were blissful compared to the nights' torment.
No matter what I tried - teas, positive visualizations, staying awake to exhaust myself — I always dreamed myself back to Fiona's room and cowered helpless before the man who'd held my life in his hands. Unlike other dreams I'd had, these did not fade into hazy terror when I woke. They remained knife-sharp in their clarity, electrifying my body and draining it at the same time.
Day and night, a guard always stood outside my door. I remember well the first night Tolliver was part of the rotation. When he'd taken the post, he'd knocked on the door to say hi. (Actually, he said, “Good evening, Lady. I'm to protect you this night.”) His pride, his quaint formality, touched me and made me feel just a little safer all at the same time. I fell asleep smiling, wondering if I'd be free of nightmares for the first time in nearly two weeks.
It was not to be. My night terror began with all who would defend me laying torn apart on the floor, their blood-soaked remains dark in the already-dim chamber. As the statuesque man turned to me, his vacant eyes met mine, and he seemed to grow from superhero to god-like size. I ran from castle to grounds, from the deserted boulevard into town, sensing always, his shadow in the back of my mind. When I could run no more, I leaned against the sides of buildings, gripping my sides as they burned like fire. I had to press on, I knew, or he would… No, I couldn't think of that, or I'd be unable to make myself move again.
To lengths beyond human endurance, I ran. Still he came, tireless and swift. I wondered if he enjoyed the chase, if he might have flown faster and ended it.
The inevitable time came when his shadow passed over me, shrouded me in its darkness. I stopped, seized with shivers that kept me rooted to the spot.
As he descended, a horrible presence invaded my mind. I dissolved into helpless tears that had no hope of averting what was coming. Through my sobs, I heard his voice in my mind, a woman's oddly. Hush, now. Let death bear you away. So many die screaming, thrashing, clinging to the last ragged shreds of life. But it is inescapable. Accept your fate in silence.
I had little choice; his aura of darkness cut off my breath as surely as though it were a hand on my throat. So many times, he'd killed me since that night, but certain defeat and imminent death never stopped me from clawing for air.
I woke drenched in sweat. Not trusting myself to light a candle, I lay gasping in the now-familiar darkness of the guest room.
A key rattled in the lock. He had come to finish the job! my mind screamed. I seized tinder and flint. I wouldn't die without a fight, not this time!
As I'd anticipated, a big man entered the guest room. Squinting against the light surrounding him, I fought to get my candle lit; without the flame, there would be no element to command. Sparks flew but didn’t take. My hands began to shake. Halfway across the room, he hesitated.
“Lady!” he said unexpectedly. Despite the chaos of my panic, his worried voice was familiar, so much that I paused in striking my flame to life. “I heard screams! Are you alright?”
“Tolliver!” I managed to gasp out my recognition but couldn’t answer his question. Though seconds before, I’d cursed the Other World’s cumbersome means of candle lighting, now I felt breathlessly grateful that I hadn’t succeeded. To think I’d almost commanded elements against him, my most devoted protector. None of the other guards had entered the room to check on me. Or maybe they had looked in without waking me, then slipped out when they saw I merely dreamed. What a close call!
Tolliver swept his torch around the room in a brief search of the shadows. Save for ourselves, the room was empty. With the realization that I was safe, emotions took over. Tremors danced over every inch of me, and wetness slid down my cheeks.
“What happened, Lady?” From his torch, Tolliver lit my candle, the candle I’d almost used to attack him, and set his brilliant flame in a holder on the wall.
“He came back for me…” My chest tightened so I could hardly breathe.
“Who?” Tolliver loosened his sword and glanced from the window to the door.
“That man from Fiona’s room. He came to torment me and destroy me!” Now I was bawling, noisy gasping sobs that seemed like they’d never stop. Fearing the tides would drown me, I staggered from the bed and threw my arms around Tolliver, clung to him as though my life depended on it. His arms rose around me, strong and secure. He was my anchor, and no matter what storms came, he would keep me from wrecking.
It felt like a long time that we stood there, our bodies pressed together, swaying this way and that in the currents of my emotion.
When my sobs quieted, he led me back to bed and covered me with the blankets with tender expertise. I guessed he had done so for his younger brother a time or two.
“A dream,” Tolliver said. I expected that was where the conversation would end. I wasn’t in physical harm, and this wasn’t something he could fix. Maybe he would turn cold to me, disengage and edge slowly out of the room. Instead, Tolliver sat in the bedside chair and enclosed my hands in his warm, rough ones. He looked helplessly from his hands to his sword. I knew without being told that he wished he could charge into my dream and slay the nightmare, just as he would an enemy on the field.
“Know this, Leah of California. I will let no harm come to you, in waking or in sleep. If you find yourself ensnared in such a dream again, remember me and let me fight for you.”
Tolliver's dark eyes met mine. He looked so serious, my doubts that his idea would actually work wavered. It was more than worth a try, attempting to think of him when the nightmares came again.
“I will,” I said.
In the following days, I learned how literal of a man Tolliver was. He became a recurring face for guard duty, sometimes many nights in a row. I wondered how he had the time, what with his duties as a soldier. It took some prying, but I finally got him to admit (sheepishly and with shyness I hadn’t seen since our early days) that he’d requested this assignment on most of his hours off. The few he weren’t with me were devoted to his family.
I felt so touched upon learning this. Grandiose declarations were one thing, but backing them up with such a self-sacrificing action…
Sharing this difficult time with me, Tolliver was starting to become more than a crush. I’d always thought he seemed like a sweetie, but I didn’t really know him as a person. It could just have been good behavior to impress me. However, his kindness, like his patience, never wavered. I couldn’t help but notice that unlike Gerry, Tolliver didn’t try to help by repeating platitudes from motivational speakers. (Not that they had them in the Other World, but surely there were some philosophers of the day who he might have quoted for my benefit.) Most of the time, Tolliver didn’t say much at all, letting me ramble. “I won’t let you come to harm, Leah,” he’d say when I’d talked myself out. His quiet resolve had the power to temporarily halt the bad thoughts in their tracks.
When things calmed down around Autumnstead, I promised myself I would examine Tolliver’s and my relationship in greater depth. In the meantime, I permitted myself to wonder what Ger and Tolliver would have thought of one another were they to meet. Would Ger approve if Tolliver and I tried being together one day?
Chapter Sixteen
Princess of Autumnstead
A week after the assassination attempt found me in the guest bedroom (big surprise) waiting for Queen Arencaster to come rehash the events of that night. She’d originally planned to come early in the morning, whether to ruin my day or give me a chance to get over it and have fewer nightmares, I couldn’t be certain.
Reluctant dawn drifted into noon, the strongest light of the day, but still a shadow of California sunshine. A kitchen boy brought my lunch. My guard (not Tolliver) watched every step, every movement of the tray from the kid’s small hands, already rough from work. Later, a page came, a little older than the scullion. “Queen Arencaster has been delayed,” he announced in a cracking voice, while my guard fixed his hawk’s gaze on him.
Tell me
something I don’t know, I thought. Queen Arencaster had definitely left this message. It had the same vague flavor as the Persevere one she’d sent to Valeriya.
“Until the battle she is overseeing ends, or our victory is certain, her Majesty will remain indisposed.”
So…indefinitely. If Queen Arencaster had to be late, I hoped she wouldn’t come until the next morning. Evening recollection of that night’s events always gave me nightmares - more than usual.
When I didn’t have visitors inside the room with me, my guards (other than Tolliver) typically stayed outside the door. The long hours alone in the guest room made for some really boring afternoons. A few times, Queen Arencaster had brought me books from her library. They rarely held my interest, however. What did I care about lineages and battles? (I suspected she’d given me her favorites, which made me feel bad about asking for others to read.)
Once, she’d allowed me to search her library on my own to see if any sparked my interest. I’d looked for books on magic, but without success.
Usually I was lucky to have Tolliver to talk to. With him, any topic was interesting, even the books Queen Arencaster had loaned me.
Today looked like one of those brutal days I’d just have to muscle through.
Yawning, I sat down on the bed. If this war went on too much longer, I’d become an expert nap-taker. Nightmares were less scary when there was still some light to wake up to, however, and it wasn’t like I’d had a good night’s rest since that night. Still, I didn’t like to. On my depressed days, I could spend all day in bed and still feel worn out. Doing it now felt like giving in, somehow.
I lay back and shut my eyes. I could almost hear my dad yelling up the stairs at me to get up. He believed that only lazy slugs and sick people took naps.
Dad would’ve approved of Ger if he’d ever had the time to meet him, I thought drowsily. When Mom had met Ger, she’d actually remarked on how similar they were. “He’s a driven young man, Leah. He reminds me of your father.”
“Is that a bad thing?” I’d asked.
“No,” Mom said without hesitation. “So long as he makes you happy, that’s all that matters…”
Sun painted her pale wooden kitchen cabinets in golden hues. I strode to the sliding glass door, wanting to stand in the light, draw more of it to me. For a reason I couldn’t explain, I’d missed it. Before I reached it, a male figure came toward me: Gerry.
The sun flashed, a shimmering crown above his bowed head. Gerry’s scent, an embrace that felt just like ones we’d shared in California, filled my senses.
His strong hands moved from my back to my shoulders, massaging the tension out of them. I savored the feeling. It had been so long since I’d been touched like this.
Then the tears started.
“Leah…why are you crying? What’s wrong?
“I know this isn’t real. I know you’re not alive.”
He drew back from me and gave me what I called his “serious look.” I’d always found it sexy and intense, especially when he looked at me from over his glasses.
“You can’t give up! In this world, things are possible that we’d never dream of in ours. I’m still alive! I promise you! I still need you to find me!”
“But the Wilder children… They had your things.”
“My captor sent them to discourage you and make you lose your way. They want both of us to suffer.”
We were no longer in Mom’s kitchen, I realized, but a cave, its vast area littered with what looked like the rubble of palaces.
Ger wore a prince’s garb, far finer than his Portalis costume, consisting of real velvet and gold trim.
“I’m only able to contact you now because they’ve left.”
“How can I believe you? It’s been so long!” I searched his face, wishing with painful desperation that it could be. Ger placed his hand upon my cheek with a tender intimacy that had been a rare treasure in our world.
“My captor has kept a close watch on me in waking and dreaming…until now. I will send you a sign.” His voice became fainter, and I recognized, to my alarm, that the dream was slipping from me. “An unmistakable one,” Gerry continued in a muffled voice. I fought to keep him in view, to hear the voice that had been gone from me for so long. “That this is more than just a dream.”
“But what will the sign be?” I tried to ask. No answer came. I asked again, louder this time, hoping my voice would reach him. “What is the sign?” I called. “Gerry!”
“Lady, do you require aid?” It was that same zealous guard who’d glared at the kitchen boy and the page. I was sitting up in bed shouting to the empty room.
“It is nothing, only a dream,” I said. “Thank you for investigating.”
The guard nodded briskly, as stiff and duty-bound as Queen Arencaster herself, and shut the door he’d cracked open.
Propping myself up on the pillows, I reviewed my dream. Could it have any meaning? Normally I tried to discourage myself from getting stuck on thoughts like this; Dad said they were just a distraction in a busy life. But it wasn’t like I was going anywhere or had anything to do. I took up the better part of an hour pondering. I concluded that hoping would only hurt me, the way it had the first year my parents were divorced, when I’d believed one or both of them would settle their issues and make our family whole again. Gerry had said there’d be a sign, an unmistakable one. If one came, then I’d decide what to do. Otherwise, I was here to survive with the rest of Autumnstead and Ivenbury and help them however I could.
“What is your business with the princess?” I heard the glaring guard demand as I was finishing my evening meal of watery potato soup, hard bread, and cheese.
“I was cleaning the princess’s old room and found some of her things that were left behind,” I heard the maid say. “I don’t need to come in, but if you would please give them to her…”
“What do I look like, an errand boy?” the guard grumbled. “Enter. And don’t try anything. My sword’s been still all day; it needs exercise.”
I shook my head. How did he have the energy to be this intense with everyone?
The maid entered the chamber. Except for her thin face, which already showed the beginnings of lines, she looked my age. “These are the strange rags you wore upon your homecoming in the fall,” she said in her harsh accent.
“Thank you.” I took them from her and smiled. She looked surprised and bobbed a curtsy.
“Is that all?” The guard drummed his fingers against his sword pommel.
“Yes sir!” The maid scurried away.
It would’ve been funnier if I’d been certain he wouldn’t actually hurt her.
Alone again, I lit several candles so I could examine my Portalis Cinderella dress. It smelled musty from being shut up in Fiona’s clothes press. The maid hadn’t tried to wash or mend it, either. Not that it mattered, but I felt bad, seeing the muddy blue cloth. Holding the dress by the shoulders, I let its length drop to the floor. I’d intended to hold it up to me, maybe try it on for fun. But as the full, puffy skirts brushed my feet, something, no, two somethings tinkled onto the floor.
Intrigued, I took one of the candles and scanned the floor. I found the objects an arm’s length under the bed. Lucky for me, because there was no way I was crawling under there. From a distance, they looked like coins, maybe pennies or Portalis gold. Both were worthless here, but it’d be fun to see them, to remind myself that I had come from another world.
I closed my hand around their cold hardness and brought them into the candlelight. A closer look made me gasp.
These were no mere coins!
One was actually a gold button, monogrammed with the elaborate “P” for Portalis. So many times, I’d seen those buttons winking on my prince’s jacket as we danced by sun or spotlight.
And if that left any doubt, the golden rabbit pin eliminated them.
Gerry had gotten the pin at a Portalis Young Leaders workshop. It was shaped like the Portalis mascot B.R. Lapine’s head. No ma
tter where he went, if Gerry thought Portalis people would be there, he wore the pin. It was always glinting on his shirt collar.
I will send you an unmistakable sign.
And so he had. There was no way the button or the pin could have been with my dress all along. First, it had no pockets, and second, these items were with him, up to the moment of his capture.
Wild energy filled me. Gerry was alive! He had to be! I wouldn’t leave him to suffer at the hands of his captors! Somehow I would leave Autumnstead and continue my quest for him, even if I had to do it alone!
I took out Ger’s driver’s license and stared at the small photo, his perfectly spiked hair, his head turned just so. He looked like a model playing the part of a young professional. It had been so long, and I’d given up in so many ways. I couldn’t believe I’d been fortunate enough to have been given a second chance. I was so caught up in my whirlwind of excitement I didn’t notice at all when Queen Arencaster entered.
“What are you looking at?” she startled me by asking.
I jumped so hard at the sound of her voice, the driver’s license flew from my hands.
“Steady yourself,” Queen Arencaster said, placing her strong hand on my shoulder. “It is only I.”
I took several shaking breaths. As I did so, Queen Arencaster picked up the driver’s license. “What a strange portrait. It is so small. But such incredible work.”
Gerry would have liked that, I thought. He’d almost lost the chance to get a driver’s license that day because he kept making the camera lady retake his picture.
“This is, well, was Gerry’s. It has information we consider important back home in California.”
Rescuing the Prince Page 20
