I smiled at him and sighed with relief. ‘That’s more like it. We can’t give up. The people are caught up in the excitement of a baby coming to Marin. But they’ll soon realise how awful Damir is. It won’t take long.’
‘I’ll have to deal with Sylvia, too,’ he said, in a deadened tone. ‘I was stupid not to have locked her away. In truth I’m a terrible king.’
‘She only wants the baby. I’m sure of it. Everything she said today—it was as though she was reciting lines from a play she’d written herself.’ At the thought of babies, I suddenly remembered the drawings in the secret room.
‘Okay. This is going to sound weird, but I think I may know of a way to fix Marin’s fertility crisis.’
Robbie raised his head, his eyes sparkling with interest. ‘How?’
‘I didn’t tell you, Marko, but I got into the room. I think it was Kraja’s room. And there’s a huge control panel. You were right. This is a huge ship, I’m sure of it. Kraja was from another planet.’ I told them about the drawings I’d seen in the secret room—and how the Kraja statue had once held a moon instead of a spear.
‘But that moon has been in the ballroom since my grandfather discovered Marin. Women here were able to bear children right up until twenty years ago. It can’t be that.’
‘But remember: you once said your grandfather’s generation used to visit the mainland all the time. But, when suspicion started in newspapers about an underwater existence, he banned all mainland travel, except for a select few male guards. Those women, while they were visiting the mainland, would still have experienced normal cycles.’
‘But the moon is still here, in Marin; surely shifting it wouldn’t have made it devoid of its powers.’
‘I don’t know.’ I picked at a piece of bread left on a chopping board in front of me. ‘In the picture, the moon is glowing and there’s some sort of beam coming down through it. As if it was a real moon—or somehow capturing the real moon’s light.’ I shook my head. ‘I don’t know how, but I just know this picture was important and something to do with fertility. And Kraja has to hold the moon for it to work.’
‘Sylvia, being so obsessed with having a baby, might grant a meeting if it regards fertility in Marin.’ Robbie cracked his knuckles and looked at Marko. ‘And if you’re the one who fixes Marin’s fertility crisis, surely that will account for reinstatement?’
‘We won’t ask for a meeting. She won’t grant us one, anyway,’ Marko said, rubbing his chin. ‘We’ll go to the square in the morning and demand that the entire city hears what we have to say.’
‘Yes!’ I exclaimed. Finally Marko was jumping into action and acting like the king he was supposed to be.
Marko smiled at my enthusiasm, but it was fleeting. ‘You do realise the danger this poses, Miranda. If the moon fails to work, then…’ his voice trailed off. I knew what he was thinking.
‘It has to work,’ I said, my voice wavering, wondering now if I should have said anything at all. What if Marko ended up in the Colosseum because of my gamble?
‘Everyone, get some rest before morning. We need to be prepared for the reaction, whatever it may be,’ said Marko, before he got up and, together, we helped Robbie to his bed.
Marko fell asleep on the spare bed almost as soon as he collapsed onto it, but I couldn’t sleep. I got up and cocooned myself inside a multi-coloured crochet blanket on the living room couch, and told myself over and over again that Marko was safe. That, after he told Sylvia and the citizens of Marin about his plans, he would be reinstated as the rightful king and Damir would be sentenced to the sharks instead of Marko. Lauren would be upset, but ten times better off. And if she was truly pregnant, then I’d support her and help her look after her baby.
There was a mild chill in the air, but the adrenaline running through my veins, along with the blanket, kept me warm. Nana had knitted blankets like this for most of her life, and I wondered then, as I sat alone in the dark, thinking about how much I missed her gentle smile, if she was still able to remember how.
It was a cold, cloudless morning. Robbie, Marko and I stood in the centre of the square below the castle, by the Kraja fountain, where I’d performed the fertility dance the year before with a bunch of professional dancers.
Crowds gathered around us with bemused and anxious expressions on their faces. Some looked as though they hoped Marko had come to fight for his crown. Others wore looks of skepticism or curiosity.
Damir and Sylvia had snubbed Marko’s request to join us in the square to hear him speak; but several of their guards arrived in place, and they would relay the announcement.
‘As you already know, I am no longer the king,’ he said, rubbing his chin. ‘You have chosen Damir,’ he paused and stared hard at the faces in the crowd, his voice gaining a harsher edge, ‘the man who killed our father, King Vladimir.’
Some people looked down, ashamed. Others listened with interest.
‘He may promise to bring you a baby. But he cannot promise you all to have your own children.’
Murmurs rose from the crowd.
‘But I think I can.’
The crowd’s mutterings grew louder. Damir’s guards glanced at each other.
Marko addressed them: ‘Tell my sister and brother I have the answer to the twenty-year-long fertility crisis; and, if they wish to know about it, they must have an audience with me.’ His voice boomed across the city. ‘They will meet with me in the castle, in my room—now.’
The guards stared at Marko with new regard and nodded. Perhaps their dreams to have a child of their own outweighed their allegiance to Sylvia and Damir.
‘Tell them how beneficial it would be for them to listen to what I have to say; especially Sylvia, who wishes to have a baby of her own.’
The guards shot up the castle steps. Marko turned to face the crowd, who began to push and shove so they could be closer and hear more of Marko’s promise. He glanced at me and winked, then glared back at the crowd while my stomach swirled sickly.
‘Very soon, you will all witness the miracle. But I ask you this: if my plan works, and the women of Marin are soon with child, I ask that you reinstate me as your rightful king of Marin.’
Most people murmured in agreement and nodded their heads, wide, childlike smiles upon their faces.
‘What of Damir and his child?’ the one remaining guard of Damir’s, with a particularly lethal-looking stare, asked.
‘Damir’s child will be safe, as will his partner, Lauren. But I cannot say the same about Damir.’
Laughter roared from the crowd. God, they were so easily manipulated, I marvelled. Only the day before, they were mocking Marko for not tasting produce or wearing a crown. Now they were laughing at the prospect of Damir’s downfall.
A hush fell upon the crowd, travelling like a Mexican wave in time with the presence of Sylvia, who was descending the staircase with slow, regal steps, her eyes hard like emeralds and fixed on Marko. But there was something she couldn’t hide on her face. It registered clear as day: hope. Her desire for her own baby was far greater than for crowns or thrones.
She reached the podium and leaned in to Marko.
‘How, and why now, do you have the answer to Marin’s fertility crisis?’
Marko seized my hand and dragged me into the conversation.
‘Miranda discovered the answer,’ he said, smiling down at me before turning his frosty blue eyes onto Sylvia. ‘Swear to make me king again if it works. I want you to swear it before this crowd—now.’
Sylvia swallowed bitterly and cleared her throat.
Her remaining guard shouted, ‘Hush! Sylvia speaks,’ and the crowd subdued.
‘If Marko resolves the fertility issues in Marin, he will be granted his crown.’
‘And Damir will step down and be punished with death, for treason,’ Marko said, his voice a hiss in her ear.
Sylvia glanced at Marko, tears shining in her eyes, and nodded, before addressing the beaming crowd.
‘And
Damir, my twin,’ she faltered, drew in a deep breath, and closed her eyes, ‘will be punished with death.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
‘FOLLOW ME,’ SYLVIA said, as she stepped down from the podium. The crowd parted and allowed her through, but she stopped and spun around to glare at Marko, who remained where he stood. ‘Are you coming?’
Marko nodded and, after helping Robbie down, and then me, asked us both to accompany him.
‘We may as well inform Damir of the news together. It will be a family reunion,’ said Sylvia with a wicked smile on her lips. Marko stared ahead with a stony expression, his eyes as cold as ice.
Sylvia’s guards swarmed around us like we were criminals, but Marko kept his head high. ‘Don’t allow them to intimidate you,’ he whispered to Robbie and me.
Robbie and I walked side by side, but he didn’t need my assistance. His memory of the castle outlay was amazingly spot-on, and I told him so.
‘My eyes can still distinguish between dark and light. And every now and then I get a vision of clarity. And I know this castle like the back of my hand.’
‘Does Damir sleep in my room?’ Marko asked Sylvia in a tight voice when we caught up with her at the double doors to his bedroom.
Sylvia cleared her throat. ‘For the time being, yes; however, after his old room is re-fitted he will reside there, with Lauren.’ Her green cat eyes met mine when she said my sister’s name. ‘Lauren,’ she said, with a smirk. ‘Is she the one you were dying to get back to last year?’ She shrugged. ‘Strange.’
‘What’s strange?’ I asked, my face heating up. She sighed and her emerald eyes turned big and sad. ‘It must be difficult to love somebody so much when they don’t return it.’ Her eyelashes fluttered in mock sympathy.
Though I knew an hour later I’d have a thousand comeback lines, at that very moment I had nothing to say. What she was saying was true. And the truth hurt. It was difficult to love somebody who I wasn’t sure returned that love. Though I liked to think that we’d patched things up since my return from Marin last year, there was no way I would truly know. Lauren knew that Damir had hurt me, physically, and yet now she was going to allow this man to be a father to her child.
A deep sigh escaped my lips.
But still, I loved her. And I already loved the baby inside of her.
Sylvia knocked on the door and shouted, ‘Damir!’ She did it again and, after no answer, she nodded to the guards standing by to open the doors. One of them hesitated, and Sylvia rolled her eyes.
‘Just open it!’
Marko’s hands clenched into fists by his sides—no doubt at the idea of Damir using his bed and having access to his personal possessions.
The doors opened. Sylvia swore and stormed into the room. We quickly followed.
The bed was made and untouched. Food had been left out for them—several covered dishes, on Marko’s dining table—but it too was untouched.
‘They drank something,’ I said, noticing a dried red ring at the base of the wine goblets.
Sylvia called Damir’s name repeatedly. When she disappeared into the bathroom, Marko shook his head at me and mouthed, ‘They’re gone.’
Sylvia, her face pale, turned to the guards. ‘Did they leave the room?’ They shook their heads, and she swore and ran down the hallway leading to the travel chutes.
Robbie’s eyes widened at the scrape of the heavy door sealing the chutes from the castle. ‘They left Marin?’
Marko rushed down the hallway. I followed him into the chute room, using my hands to shield my eyes from the harsh glare of the surrounding light-crystal tunnel. When I turned around to call Robbie, Marko reached out and touched my hand.
‘No. Remember.’
‘Yes, of course.’ I nodded and met Marko’s gaze. ‘It might do more damage.’
‘It’s the trauma of what happened that might harm him more.’
Sylvia shrieked and swore several times. Marko muttered several curses. I caught him by the arm before he started towards his sister, and he spun around to face me.
‘What if they’ve left? What happens then?’ I asked.
Marko held my gaze for a long time before he bent to kiss my forehead and wrap his arms around me for a quick hug. ‘It’s anyone’s guess,’ he said, before pulling away.
Sylvia was standing beside an empty chute, the shuttle missing. Her dark hair, spilling over her shoulders, made a stark contrast with all the white in the room.
‘They’ve gone!’ she screamed. There were actual tears falling from her eyes. In the brightness of the light-crystal walls, the drops that streaked her pale cheeks looked like diamonds. She brought a hand to her mouth and shook her head. ‘I suspected this.’ She looked at Marko. ‘Just not the day after he’d been reinstated!’
‘And you’re surprised?’ Marko clawed a hand through his hair. ‘This is what you get when you let a deranged, murdering idiot rule a kingdom!’
‘Who cares about the kingdom?’ Sylvia spat. ‘It’s that baby I’m concerned about!’
‘Will travelling in the light-crystal chutes harm the baby?’ I asked her, not liking the way she said ‘that baby’; as though it was a thing, a possession to be had.
Sylvia glared at me, her eyes bulging. ‘Do I look pregnant to you?’ She waved her hands about. ‘Are the corridors of the castle bulging with pregnant women?’ She stalked towards me, her teeth bared. ‘How should I know if travelling will harm the baby?’
‘You just said yourself that you were worried about the baby; what else could you have meant?’ I said, knocking away the finger she was pointing at my face.
‘That baby is a Tollin; my flesh and blood! Naturally I’d be worried,’ she spat.
‘Enough!’ said Marko, coming to stand between us. ‘We’ve got more pressing things to worry about.’ He stormed out into the corridor shouting, ‘Guards!’
To my surprise, several guards stood to attention in Marko’s room. I hadn’t thought any of them would answer his order, since he was no longer their king. Perhaps it was just a hard habit to break.
‘Where’s Robbie?’ I asked, taking a quick look around the room.
One of the guards caught my eye and nodded. ‘He left the castle minutes ago.’
‘Was he okay?’
The guard averted his eyes. ‘He was bleeding through his bandages. We sent a nurse after him.’
‘I’ll check on him later,’ Marko said, giving me a quick nod before turning to the men before him. ‘Summon as many of our strong men into the castle and bring them to the ballroom.’
‘The ballroom? What on earth for?’ Sylvia asked, as she re-entered the room. She looked slightly dishevelled, as though she’d been raking her hands through her hair a thousand times.
‘The fertility moon,’ I said, and explained everything without mentioning the secret room.
Marko took my hand in his, and together we walked the castle corridors towards the ballroom.
‘Do you really think it will work?’ asked Sylvia, practically running in her heels to keep up. There was a softness to her voice and, when I looked at her face, she seemed younger somehow, less severe. She walked with her hand resting on her belly, her heart’s desire was pinned on her chest for everybody to see, and she looked all the more beautiful for it.
I almost felt for her; but then she narrowed her gaze and said to me, ‘This had better work, or you’re dead.’
I nodded and raised a brow. ‘The Colosseum?’
‘With extra sharks and no knife,’ she said, flashing a sugary smile.
Marko squeezed my hand and drew me around to his other side, glaring at his sister. ‘Ignore her, Miranda, please. She lives to stir.’
‘I’ll try,’ I said, exhaling noisily.
He wrapped one arm around me and pulled me close, so that we walked hip to hip. I slid my arm around his waist, threading my fingers through the belt loops of his pants. So much had been going on that there hadn’t been time for us to just be together, and I misse
d him. Marko’s touch was probably the one and only thing that could take my mind off the fact that our lives were riding on my interpretation of some old pictures found on a wall.
I was balancing on the edge after all. Blake would be proud.
‘It seems so thin and transparent,’ I whispered to Marko, as we stood outside and stared up at the statue of Kraja, who now carried the large crystal moon in her arms. It had taken hours for the men to transfer it from the ballroom to the statue.
‘It’s hollow, that’s why. It’s tough as iron, though, being light crystal,’ Marko assured me.
‘But in the picture—’ I moved in closer so that nobody else could hear me. ‘It glows in the picture, as though it’s a real moon.’
‘Look at it, Miranda.’ Marko stood behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist so that I fell back against him. ‘It does glow; maybe not as powerfully or as white as the real moon, but it still glows.’
Sylvia stepped up to the podium, practically beaming. The swarming crowd cheered and clapped. It was obvious, from all the swaying and laughter, and the red cheeks, that the people had already begun celebrating.
As long as they don’t start making babies in the street, I thought.
‘Kraja’s moon has been restored, thanks to my brother,’ she looked at Marko and nodded, ‘who is now, once again, your king, seeing as Damir has abandoned his post.’
Cheers erupted. I turned to smile at Marko. He smiled back, but his entire body was as rigid as the Kraja statue. He hadn’t forgotten the events of the last two days as easily as the people of Marin seemed to have.
I hadn’t either. Sylvia, though she’d kept her bargain by reinstating Marko, was not to be trusted—nor the guards. As I watched the entire city party around the statue, I realised that we were back to square one. My moon idea had done nothing but create a false sense of security. If it worked, fine. If it didn’t, then, I couldn’t even bear to think of the result.
Marko looked down at me and sighed deeply, his face softening into a real smile.
It was then I realised that the only certain thing in my life now was Marko. As I stared deep into his eyes I had the weird urge to tell him that I was in love with him; suddenly, life felt extra short.
Impulse Page 18
