by CK Dawn
“Then when are you going back to your land? Your mission is accomplished, Queen Lucienne. Your people need you at home. Your land can’t be without its queen.”
“My land and my people are fine,” Lucienne said. “As for when I should leave Nirvana, only the gods can decide. Now, we should both leave the Furys in peace.”
After the king and his guards left, Kian ordered two commandos to guard the Fury house. Lucienne and the rest of the warriors returned to their encampment in Hell Gate.
“What’s going on between you and the Fury kid?” Kian asked when they were alone in her tent.
“Is it that obvious?” Lucienne sighed.
“You’re not yourself when you get close to him.”
“I don’t know.” Frustration edged Lucienne’s voice. “He activated the Eye of Time, and he inherited some of its power. Somehow, my body responds to him or the power in him. I guess it’s this damn Siren thing.” The irony was, she realized, she wasn’t the Siren, but the power was, and it sang to entrap her.
“Did he use the power to compel you?” Kian’s voice turned hard.
“I don’t think either of us have that kind of capability over each other.”
“What can I do to help?”
“Nothing, until we figure it out. We have to stop this . . . thing.”
“We’ll stop it.” Glancing at Lucienne, Kian added, “And don’t worry about Blazek. He’ll have to suck it up.
Fifteen
Lucienne treaded through the endless desert, her lips parched from thirst. Then she spotted a peach ahead. Her wobbly legs moved toward it, but before she could scoop it up, someone snatched the fruit. Lucienne lashed out, hand wrapping around the person’s pale throat.
A hand with iron strength removed her grip from his throat. She looked up at the thief’s perfect, white-marble face. “You have to learn to share, Lucienne Lam,” Ashburn said.
Inside her tent, Lucienne was sleeping on her stomach in her sleeping bag. Strong hands shook her. She slapped them away, turned to her side, and continued to sleep. “Mine,” she murmured.
“Wake up, Lucia,” Kian said, a doting smile in his voice.
Lucienne fluttered open one eye. “I was thirsty. I finally found a peach, but that damn Fury boy—”
“That damned Fury boy is here to see you.”
“Ashburn?”
“Who else? The Furys only have the one child.”
Two, actually, she thought. The other died a stillborn just before baby Ashburn was left in the inner garden anonymously. That was the bitterest secret Lucienne dug up from Clement’s mind.
She opened the other eye, rubbing it. “Why must that farm boy visit us at this goddamn hour?”
“Goddamn hour?” Kian asked. “You’re the only one who’s still asleep. The men were up two hours ago.”
She had stayed up late last night, watching Ashburn sleep through her computer screen from the satellite feed, and learned when he was asleep, he didn’t have the power to block the satellite. She also learned that Ashburn suffered from night terrors. She wondered what type of nightmare went on in that uncharted, mysterious mind of his.
“But the sun hasn’t even risen yet,” she grunted.
Kian quirked an eyebrow.
“Fine.” She sat up. “Let him wait in the guest tent.”
Kian handed her a bottle of spring water, and she threw her head back and drained half the bottle. “Still thirsty, Kian.”
Shaking his head, Kian left the tent so she could get ready.
Lucienne tried to smooth the knots in her thick hair with a comb. “I’m no good at this. Aida does a much better job,” she murmured to herself while putting on a dandelion cashmere sweater, tight jeans, and boots. Before she flapped the tent open, she snatched a cream-colored slouchy hat and put it on.
It was close to dawn. The horizon was still dimly-lit.
“Good morning, Queen Lucienne,” Ashburn said, his hands shoved into his pockets. Leaning on the silvery gate, he looked her over in approval, his eyes a light shade of blue, like ice from the purest glacier.
His black sweater stretched tightly across his chest. A white scarf casually wrapped around his neck gave him an elegant air.
“Indeed, good early morning,” Lucienne greeted him back, sauntering toward him.
“The boy refused to wait inside the tent,” said Orlando, who hovered nearby. “He said he preferred the fresh wilderness air.”
Ashburn looked amused as he gazed at Lucienne. At first, she thought she must have drooled over the peach in her dream and forgot to clean herself up. But his gaze didn’t mock her. On the contrary, it was delighted by the sight of her. A second later, a cool mask slipped over his face.
“Pardon me if I disturbed your sleep,” he said. “I can come back after the light goes out, but I figured you wouldn’t allow guests after midnight.”
“The law forbids your people to enter Hell Gate.” Lucienne realized. “You can’t be seen.” And she knew any Nirvana citizen breaking the king’s law would end up with either years in the king’s dungeon, hanged, or beheaded.
“I came to return your interface. I’ve given it to your men.”
“You don’t need to return it. It’s a gift.”
“A gift with an untraceable, hidden wireless camera and spyware inside?” Ashburn asked quietly.
Damn him! Lucienne blushed furiously. She was now convinced that he could see through the operation system and firewall of the interface. “Spyware?” She frowned. “Hmm, I’ll have to check with my crew and see why they made such a mistake.”
“You don’t have to pretend in front of me.” Ashburn looked straight at her, his eyes piercing like a shard of ice.
Lucienne swallowed. “Did you come to scorn me?”
“No. I didn’t come here as your enemy and would never want to be,” he said. His cold smile didn’t warm his ice blue eyes; neither did it warm Lucienne’s. “The Lam industry is a global force, and of all Sirens, you’re the most formidable.”
“You aren’t just a farm boy from an isolated town, are you?”
“Farm boy?” Ashburn laughed drily. “I only hope I am one, so the dark lightning over my head doesn’t strike me down.”
“The dark lightning I saw come from your fingertips.”
“You’re the only one who saw that,” he said, his eyes turning the color of the gloomy sea. “Why aren’t you afraid of me?”
“Do you want me to fear you?” Tilting her head, Lucienne threw back the question. Cold stiffness ebbed from her. She began to appreciate his straightforwardness.
Ashburn laughed at her question, but it was a short laugh. “Everyone in Nirvana was afraid of me back when I was only a baby and then a cripple,” he said darkly. “And since I’ve returned, they fear me more. I am the dangerous unknown to them, and their fear will turn to hatred eventually.”
“Last night they wanted a piece of the gods’ blessings from you. They’ve gotten over the fever. In no time, they’ll need a scapegoat again, and you’ll be the first transgressor they think of.”
“I wasn’t wrong about you,” Ashburn said. “You might really understand me.”
He might be really lonely here—an advanced specimen trapped in a backwards community.
“The prince will convince the neighbors I’m still the curse,” Ashburn continued. “Even my parents are wondering if I’m still their son. I watch fear eat at them, and I can’t even explain to them what really happened to me.”
“So what has really happened to you?” Lucienne asked. “Tell me. I’ll understand, and I won’t judge you.”
“You want to know if I’m a threat to you.”
“Do you plan on being a threat to me?”
“I’m not planning anything, but you’re a danger to me, just as I am to you.”
A smile curved Lucienne’s lips. “I promise to be nice if you’re nice.”
“You weren’t raised to be nice,” Ashburn said.
Lucien
ne blinked. No one had ever talked to her that way.
“You were trained to be the Siren,” Ashburn added, “to fulfill your duty.”
“I . . . I’m not going to apologize for that,” Lucienne said. Jed taught her never to apologize for anything. She was born to rule. She parted her lips, trying to say something more, but no words escaped.
The magnetic pull pulsed stronger between her and Ashburn, ripping the air. His scent of rosemary and ice drifted to her, reminding her of the garden in Red Mansion, her old home. Lucienne held her breath, and Ashburn rasped.
“Sweet perfume of Nectar,” he whispered, his eyes glinting and dropping to her mouth, as if he wanted to kiss her. His hand clutched the bar of the gate until his knuckles turned while. A second later, he tore his gaze from her lips and looked into the distance. His eyes shifted to dark silver. “I’m trying to figure things out, just as you are.” His breath evened. “So how about we both play fair?”
“What do you propose?”
“We ask each other three questions and start getting some answers.”
“How will I know if your answers are honest?”
“Always suspicious of everything—one of the Siren’s famous traits.” A lopsided smile tugged the corner of Ashburn’s mouth, and Lucienne felt her heart fluttering. “You’ll have to judge for yourself. But ask carefully, Queen Lucienne, for you won’t get any more answers from me if you decide we are enemies.”
“I’ve told you, I don’t decide who my enemies are before they reveal themselves,” Lucienne said, but she wouldn’t admit to him that she had presumed he was her enemy. Didn’t he steal the power from the Eye of Time—her birthright?
But her impression of him had shifted since they met. She was still not sure if he’d be foe or friend, though in her book, he had become her intellectual asset, like the Eye of Time. No, Lucienne sighed, it’s more than that. There was an undeniable connection between them.
Keeping her expression neutral, Lucienne fired her first question. “What happened after you activated the Eye of Time?”
“It tricked me, and then forced me to activate it. I broke free, almost cutting off my own fingers, before it had me completely,” he said. “The next thing I knew I was trapped in an infinite world.”
He went to the quantum realm. Lucienne’s heart raced. Was it Eterne? “Go on,” she urged.
“It’s the loneliest place with absolute nothingness,” said Ashburn. “Time was dead there. I didn’t eat or sleep. I couldn’t rest. The only benefit was I could finally walk. But no matter how fast I ran and how far I thought I had gone, every time I stopped, I was in the same spot.” A shattered, hopeless look in his eyes made Lucienne want to cradle him in her arms, but she restrained herself. “I thought that was my eternal punishment, until I heard Violet singing. No one sings more beautifully than she does.”
Lucienne felt a sudden possessive jealousy. This is ridiculous, she thought. Why did she feel this way? Her loyalty belonged to Vladimir! Then an image came to her, like the rain of light slashing through her defense—Ashburn bent to kiss her, his lips warm and soft, and she arched her body at a sensual angle.
How enchanting! Lucienne realized the image was slammed into her mind by a force. It was like the sea sirens calling her again with their irresistible songs. Anger took over. She knew how dangerous the songs were. They’d make her lose herself. In her cold fury, she shattered the kissing fantasy like smashing a glass.
Breathing hard, Lucienne glared at Ashburn. Was he taunting her with his power? Well, she sneered, he didn’t know. He didn’t know that her lips—which tasted nothing like the “sweet perfume of Nectar”—would drop him to the ground in a heartbeat. She’d dare him to try.
“Is something wrong?” Ashburn asked, peering into her eyes.
Lucienne felt a tingling sensation in her head. She immediately shielded up. The prickle dropped. Had Ashburn just tried to invade her mind? She frowned, catching a predatory light flickering in his eyes, then his ravaging look gave in to amazement. Lucienne watched him intently and coldly, fortifying her defense. She couldn’t risk counterattacking him like she did Jed. Her grandfather’s warning “—one day you’ll meet a formidable opponent—” had come true.
“I’m sorry for your suffering,” she said, wearing an unreadable mask. “It’s a horrible fate to be stuck in that kind of eternity—bored to death, and death never coming.” But she didn’t feel sorry for him.
Ashburn nodded. “Violet’s singing reached me when nothing else could. I guess the connection between us brought me back.”
“Isn’t that amazing? The great love you have for each other could split time and space and break all the barriers.” Lucienne tried not to sound sour.
“I love Violet,” said Ashburn, his gaze on her intensified, “like a sister.”
Lucienne’s pulse quickened at his hot gaze, and his explanation pleased her. For a moment, she wanted to point out that Violet didn’t regard herself as his sister, but she bit her tongue. What was between Ashburn and Violet was none of her business.
The mesmerizing energy between them resumed, humming. Ashburn watched her expectantly, waiting for her to make a move. Lucienne, however, drew back. Ashburn looked like a little boy who was refused candy, but he quickly recovered. His liquid silver eyes sparkled in respect. “I believe you have the Eye of Time in your possession, but something blocks my sight of it. What’s blocking it?”
“Twilight Water, an object that’s beyond three dimensions,” Lucienne said reluctantly, and immediately tossed her second question to stop Ashburn from further digging into her family’s treasures. “How do you know about the Sirens’ affairs?”
“It’s nagging you that I know, isn’t it?” Ashburn said with a half-smile, and again Lucienne felt her pulse picking up. “You can put your mind at ease. The crazy Eye recorded every piece of garbage since the dawn of the human race. I’ve inherited the collective memories of billions of humans in my head, the living and the dead.”
Lucienne remembered the mass consciousness that almost swallowed her when she probed his mind. “So every Siren’s memories have become part of your collection, too.” She made it as a statement so it wouldn’t be counted as her third question.
“Except yours,” Ashburn said. “I guess the mark is shielding you. While it’s with you, I can’t access your memories.”
Thank God! Lucienne controlled an impulse to touch the mark under her midnight hair. “The Eye of Time gave you great powers,” she said drily.
“I don’t care about the powers. I don’t want them; not at this cost,” Ashburn said. “I have no ambition to rule the world, but that crazy son of a—wouldn’t listen to reason.” His eyes turned dark silver—a gathering storm. “All of the Sirens craved these powers, but if you knew what the Eye of Time has in store for whoever it chooses, you and your ancestors wouldn’t be so eager.”
Lucienne looked at him through her thick lashes. “Convince me.”
“The pain I endured was like a thousand needles sticking into my brain. It wanted to see what I was made of. That vicious Eye even bullshitted me with ‘no pain, no gain,’ and blamed my suffering on my resistance,” Ashburn paused, as if the memory was still raw. His beautiful face became emotionless, but his tone was acid. “What sane person wouldn’t fight against an ancient entity taking over his soul?”
Lucienne blinked.
“And the needle-stabbing torment isn’t nearly the worst,” he continued. “Trillions of images and voices—strangers’ memories—invaded my head like parasites.”
“The Eye of Time uploaded its knowledge of humanity.”
“What’s it to do with me? Why should I care about humanity?” Ashburn said crossly. “I’ve been trying to erase them or get them out of my head but to no avail. Now the trillion of noises have translated into codes and become part of my brain cells.”
“We Sirens believed we were the chosen ones to glean the Eye of Time’s powers. I’d take the pain to have th
e knowledge. I’d use the ancient knowledge to fulfill my duty and seek a higher path.” And she could find a way to be with Vladimir. “But it went to you instead, and you despise it.” Lucienne tasted bile on her tongue. The Eye of Time picked the wrong person. But then Ashburn’s birth myth chimed in her head. The worst truth was that maybe he was the one destined to inherit the Eye of Time.
“So why did it choose you, Ashburn?”
The storm swirled back into Ashburn’s eyes, clashing cloud on cloud. “I don’t know.” He lowered his gaze, his long, thick eyelashes veiling his expression.
“I don’t believe that,” Lucienne said.
“It mistook me for someone else,” said Ashburn. “It implanted a hidden agenda. I must find the bomb and take it out! That’s all I know and all I want.”
It felt like a blast of icy air hitting Lucienne in the face. Ashburn’s statement was opposite from the partial prophecy on the first scroll.
“What is between you and prince Vladimir?” he asked softly.
The tiny hair on Lucienne’s arms bristled. Her eyes darkened and narrowed to slits.
“I’ve blocked the satellite,” he said. “I’ve also disabled the audio sensors your men placed in the range.”
“Do you realize you’ve just asked me a very personal question?”
“I count it as my second question nevertheless,” Ashburn said with a shrug, “and I expect it to be answered to my satisfaction, as I’ve done for you.”
He has Vladimir’s memories, but he doesn’t have mine, Lucienne thought. Her mind flew back to how she and Vladimir had their first fight three years ago in Desert Cymbidium, her family’s training school. She played dirty and defeated him. The notorious playboy fell for her afterwards. Of course, she rejected him, as she refused all the other boys. She treated Vladimir the worst, though, taunting his feelings and tormenting him as far as she could go. But then, Vladimir acquired the information on an ancient scroll that her family had been pursuing for centuries. They made peace in the glider on the way to Tibet, and when he dove into that cliff to go after her, her heart belonged to him.
