by Rowan, Cate
“Understood.” Alvarr glanced at Jilian and nodded. No trace of anything beyond the business of the realm showed in his gray eyes.
Hurt wriggled in her mind. They’d been back only a few minutes and already he was ignoring her. Was this what she had to look forward to?
Not so fast, Jil. He told you he wanted the relationship to be a secret. You agreed to that.
But the reality cut deeper than she expected, here in his royal surroundings with his friends of many years. The intimacy of traveling with him had vanished at the end of the trail.
“If you’ll give me the herbs,” Thoren said, “I’ll take them to Varene to prepare.” Alvarr handed Thoren the bag as the Prime Councilor continued. “I’ve put a set of each of your court clothes in my closet.” He chuckled, eyeing their dusty garments. “I’ll send your Images here so you can leave the room dressed as yourselves, without incident.”
As the chamber door closed behind Thoren, Alvarr walked to Jilian, a half-smile on his face. “Many adventures, indeed.” He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her.
Momentarily relieved, she leaned into his kiss, then eased back and put her hands on his chest. “Is this how it’s always going to be?” she asked, nodding at the closed door.
He looked surprised. “Keeping quiet? We discussed this…”
“I know. But it’s hitting me harder than I’d thought.” She exhaled. “Maybe it’ll get easier.” Did lies ever get easier over time?
He enfolded her hands in his. “You do understand, don’t you?”
“I suppose,” she admitted. “But it’ll be hard to see you carrying on as if nothing has changed.”
“Jilian,” he said softly, “everything has changed.” He pulled her close again and rested his hand against the small of her back. “I know it, and so do you. Does it matter that others don’t?”
It might. Here he was, the prince of all Teganne, presumably the most eligible bachelor in the land. What about…female others?
She withdrew enough to cross her arms over her heart. “Just so we’re clear, I wouldn’t appreciate…”
“Yes?”
“Look, if we’re pretending we’re not involved, does that mean you’re free to flirt with other women? And that they’re free to flirt with you?”
His eyebrows jerked up. “I beg your pardon?”
“It’s not that I want it that way!” she snapped. “If we’re keeping us a secret, then you have to pretend that things were the same as before. You’re a prince and you’re sex on a stick. No doubt you’ve had plenty of…company.”
Alvarr’s bewilderment morphed into an embarrassed cough. “Oh, well…”
“You don’t need to lie. I heard you.”
“Heard what, and when?”
“At Mellec and Resara’s. You had…um…an erotic dream.”
He grinned. The bastard grinned.
“Mmm, yes, I remember that one.”
She looked away in disgust. “I really don’t want to hear about it. It’s just that I’m sure you’ve…been with other women, and I—”
“Oh, she was a beauty, that one.”
She whipped her gaze back to him. “Excuse me?”
“Really stunning. Amazing—you should have seen her.”
Fury shot to her tongue. “What the hell do you think you’re playing at?” She whirled to stalk out of the room.
“Eyes the most incredible green.” He caught her arm and stopped her. “Hair the color of sable, and fine as Chellen silk.” He picked up a lock and let it fall like water from his hand. “It was you I was dreaming of, Jilian.”
“Really?” A blush flamed her cheeks. There I am again, Idiot Central.
He gathered her in his arms and brought his lips to her ear. “Shall I tell you about it?”
“Oh yes.” She shivered and pulled his mouth toward hers. “The hot bath can wait. Warm me up yourself.”
A knock sounded at the door and they hastily stepped apart.
Their Images entered the room, smiling broadly.
“Well,” Alvarr muttered. “You two look like you enjoyed things while we were away.”
“We couldn’t enjoy each other, you know,” said Alvarr’s Image.
“It’s forbidden,” said Jilian’s.
“Thoren,” Alvarr growled, looking his Image in the eye.
Thoren’s voice spoke back from the Image. “Just making sure you’re paying attention.”
“Senkat!” Alvarr spat out, and the Images disappeared.
Jilian did her best to swallow the guilt of deceiving Thoren. This is the choice we made…
Alvarr turned to her. “Perhaps we should move out of Thoren’s chambers.” Grinning, he waggled his eyebrows. “I have the largest bathtub. Let’s share.”
She gave him a slow smile, then shook her head reluctantly. “Is that wise? What if someone catches us?”
“Being the prince has some perks, such as privacy. Besides, in a few hours after Varene has prepared the herb, my mages will gather to send you to Earth with it.” He kissed her again, a long, lingering caress that spoke of the absence to come. “Until then I want to see as much of you as I can.” He leaned down and let his breath warm her ear. “Wet and naked.”
She answered him with her body and all her heart.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The bath water sloshed merrily as Alvarr and Jilian parted and she nestled back against his chest. The feel of her wet and slippery body made him eager for another round. He sighed into her ear and slid his hands over her belly, then up to cup her breasts. “You’ve no idea how sexy you are.”
She reciprocated by nibbling his neck. “I know how sexy you are. And addictive. But now I’ll have to manage without you.”
Her words brought back uneasy thoughts about her oath. “Not for long.”
“How long, exactly? And you promise I can go tonight?”
She’s so damn eager to leave. He tightened his hold around her, though his old worries about her fleeing were surely ridiculous. She wanted to save her mother; of course she’d be eager. “You should get a good night’s rest. Crossings drain so much power.”
Jilian sighed. “It’s just hard, being so close, and having the herb here at last…”
“I know. But I can’t risk losing you.”
She twisted to look at him.
“What?” he asked, and cupped her head.
Her eyes searched his. “Nothing,” she said at last.
A knock on the bath chamber door startled Alvarr before he could reply. Hell, what did I just blather about privacy? He pulled the heavy silk curtain around the tub to hide them both. “Who is it?” he bellowed.
Thoren’s voice was muffled by the thick door. “I need to speak with you. May I come in?” The ornate gold handle rattled.
“No, Uncle!” Alvarr bolted to his feet, soapy water sheeting off him. “I…have a rash.”
Jilian smothered a laugh in her palm.
“A rash? Why, a little spell—”
“No, no—I’ll take care of it.”
He glanced down to see Jilian now biting her fingers to squelch the snickers. Her mirth was contagious and he yanked his gaze away to keep himself from catching it.
“Honestly, Alvarr, this is ridiculous. I saw you newly born, what harm—”
“Fine, I’ll come out. Just a moment.” He shot Jilian a warning glance but feared it might not do much good, since his own lips were rammed together to silence his laugher. He reached for a towel and wrapped it about his waist, then stepped out and tugged the curtain closed behind him.
When he unlocked and opened the door, Thoren stood just beyond it with arms crossed, looking droll. “You look well enough on your visible parts.” He eyed the towel with a raised brow. “Where exactly is this rash—?”
Alvarr sighed, choosing not to throttle his great-uncle. “Never mind my health. What’s so urgent?”
Thoren frowned. “You won’t like it. I can’t tell much, but the wardweavings along
our eastern border have sprouted holes.”
Tension jolted into Alvarr’s body. “The eastern border? Kad’s?”
“Strange, isn’t it? I’d expect Bhruic to work from the west, from Fallorm, as he always has before. But perhaps he’s counting on that expectation.” Thoren rubbed his chin in thought.
“You’re sure it’s Bhruic?”
“I’d say the holes have his scent. And Kuramos of Kad would rather slit his own throat than harbor magic-users in his sultanate.”
“Holes from both sides now.” Alvarr leaned back against the doorway, feeling as if he’d been trampled by a herd of armor-clad war fydds. “We may need to reweave the wards entirely, but that will require all our strength and skill and Jilian’s kyrra—and still he’ll find a way to rip them again. What evils—or armies—might he send into Teganne with a large enough hole? Damn the bastard.” He began to pace.
“Speaking of Jilian, where is she?”
“Likely in her chamber, taking a nap.” Alvarr shrugged and hoped he seemed sufficiently nonchalant, but his fists clenched as he walked. “I promised she’ll be able to treat her mother with the herb.”
Thoren’s gaze pierced him like an arrow shaft. “What if we have no time to spare?”
Alvarr rubbed his neck as all the worries of Teganne returned to settle upon it. He needed options but had none left. Or at least none with honor. “We’ve no choice. I’ll do what I can with the holes while she’s away. She’ll have to return soon.” He ceased his pacing and faced his great-uncle. “I’ll handle it.”
“Very well,” Thoren said with a nod. “I hope…” He chewed his lip. “I hope your plan succeeds.” The words because it’s all we have left were unspoken but keenly heard as he exited the room.
Alvarr leaned back against the wall, curses forming in his mind.
He caught sight of Jilian peeking around the door of the bath chamber. “He’s gone,” he said softly. “How much did you hear?”
She entered, his pendant tucked snugly inside her wrapped towel. “Enough to know you’re concerned about something Bhruic’s done.”
He stared down at the flagstones, then looked at her. “I need you to return to Teganne right away.”
“I will. I feel rested. Time’s short—I could leave now and get back quickly.” She lowered her gaze. “I have to go. I’m sorry, but I must see if my mother is alive and give her a chance at a cure.”
Alvarr pushed off the door and walked toward her. “I understand.” He slid his palms over her soft cheeks and leaned down to rest his forehead against hers. “Just come home soon.”
“Here’s the herbal elixir.” Varene held the vial up to the light of her herb-stuffed workroom so Jilian could examine it. The narrow flask twined around itself like an antelope’s horn and the purple liquid inside clung to the glass as Varene tilted it in her hand.
“Give it to her all at once,” she instructed. “I made it with a sugar syrup, and I’ll stop the mouth of it with this lolly leaf. Lolly oil assists with difficult illnesses.”
She wrapped the round leaf around the flask’s narrow opening, licking the leaf’s edges so it stuck to itself and sealed shut. “A healing trance will help the starlace heal your mother. I’ve included the charm for one in the syrup, but I can’t be sure it will work in the air of your world.”
Jilian nodded. “Most people there don’t believe in such things. I wouldn’t have either, if I hadn’t seen some very strange things here.”
“Perhaps I’d feel just the same if I visited your world.” Varene grinned and handed her the flask.
The glass ripples felt cool against Jilian’s fingers. “You’re sure this is enough?”
“I wish I could say otherwise, but I don’t know. It’s been so many years since Shadow’s Quilt has been seen here. I’ve made my best guess based on the records. We’re all stumbling in the dark right now.”
Jilian sighed out a breath.
“Have hope,” Varene said. “What few records we have sounded promising. Hold onto that. I’m heartened by the fact you found the starlace at all.”
“So am I.” Jilian slipped the flask into the silk bag. “Thank you. I wouldn’t even know about it but for you,” she said, and squeezed Varene’s hand. “If you hadn’t mentioned it, I might not be going home now to see my mother. I just hope there’s still time.”
“Jilian,” Alvarr called from the doorway. “Are you ready?”
She turned, forcing back the smile that rose at the sound of her lover’s voice. “I am. As best I can be, anyway.”
At least I’m allowed to smile at Varene, she thought, and did. “Thank you. For everything.”
Varene squeezed Jilian’s shoulder. “My hopes go with you.”
Jilian and Alvarr walked the castle halls past pages, courtiers and guards, the uneasy silence between them aching with unspoken words and ungiven touches. He led her into the room with the portal, which she hadn’t been in since she’d first arrived in Teganne.
She glanced around the stone walls, recalling her shock…the smoky air, the frantic shouts, the mages lying helpless with their magic draining away. The memories caught her throat like the suffocating ropes the soldiers had used. She slowed her progress toward the silver ring on the floor.
“Jilian?” Alvarr brushed his fingers over the small of her back.
“Nothing.” She shook her head. “Just remembering.” Yesterday her entrance into Alaia had seemed like ten lifetimes ago, but it was as close as this room.
All she’d ever known before was just as close—a Crossing away. Her mother was on Earth, the world to which Jilian had been born. But where did she belong?
She looked up and lied as best she could. “I’ll be fine.”
Her shaking fingers flew to the silk bag still hanging securely around her neck. Mom—are you alive?
She turned at the sound of footsteps behind them. Rokad entered the room with his usual smile.
“There you are.” Alvarr thumped his friend on the back. “Glad you’re up and about, and that you’ll spot the Crossing.”
“Of course.” Rokad’s expression turned somber. “But you realize that if something goes wrong, I won’t be of much use, stripped of magic as I am.”
Jilian’s eyes widened and she glanced up at Alvarr. “What could go wrong?”
He shook his head. “Now that you’ve learned to tap into your kyrra, we have enough power.”
That hardly made her feel better. “What about Thoren?”
“He’s weak.” Alvarr placed his hands on her shoulders. “I’ve done this before, remember? I promise we’ll be safe.”
He strode to the circle and held out his hand to her.
She took a step toward him. What if this is it? What if something happens and I can’t get back? And yet Rokad’s presence stopped her from speaking her questions aloud, for fear that if she did, all their secrets would spill out…
Alvarr’s intense gaze unnerved her further, as if he, too, held words back. She glanced around the room again. This was where everything had started, but under such different circumstances; she was going home just as she’d wanted, but part of her wished to stay.
She took a deep breath and stepped into the ring.
Her lie was soon laid bare; he must have read her unease because he leaned down and whispered, “You’re certain of this?”
Her heart trembled in her chest, but what else could she do? “I am.” Placing her hand in his to transfer her kyrra, she looked up into the gray eyes of the man she loved and was now leaving.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The hum between Jilian and Alvarr deepened into a throb of full-body sensation as their hands joined. A mist grew and swirled around the Ring—a band of energy, moving over them, through them. Her kyrra was powering them from one world to another—but her pleasure in that act was muted by their imminent separation.
A roar blared in her ears, then sudden silence. She and Alvarr emerged, still holding hands, in Sara’s stud
y. The warm light of midmorning lit the room; it was no longer afternoon, as it had been in Teganne. Scotland and Teganne are in different time zones? She wasn’t sure whether to chuckle or have a brain cramp.
The study seemed much the same, but Jilian felt adrift, like she’d already lived a lifetime away in only a few weeks.
She looked up into Alvarr’s silver gaze, wanting to keep it fixed in her mind. He leaned in and his mouth moved on hers, warm and tempting. Under his caresses, Jilian’s worries loosened their grip. Her body responded to him, deepening the kiss, demanding more, just in case, in case…
His very male groan brought her back to her senses. She broke away and leaned her forehead on his chest, which still smelled of the sandalwood soap from their bath-time lovemaking.
Nothing she could do would make their goodbye less inevitable.
“I don’t want to let you go, either,” he whispered, tightening his arms around her. “But I know you must do this, and I must attend to Teganne. I’ll be here at your sunset.” He touched her cheek. “Sara was to be my FriendMother, and I was bitter when I learned that she’d left me behind—but I hope she’s alive and responds well to the starlace. Give her my greetings and do what you can for her. Perhaps…she’ll even be willing to return to Teganne someday.”
Her heart held still a moment to welcome that future. “Prince Alvarr of Teganne, I love you.” She stood on her tiptoes to plant a final, closed-mouth kiss on his lips. She’d meant it to be quick, but at last her trembling calves forced her down. She drank him in one more time, biting her cheek so she wouldn’t cry, and then turned and left the study.
Keep moving, Jil. You can’t go back. With one hand on the silk bag at her neck, she strode through the house to the kitchen door. She glanced out the window at her father’s well-kept old Citroën, parked in the driveway just as she’d left it.
