Destiny's Dark Fantasy Boxed Set (Eight Book Bundle)

by Tamara Rose Blodgett

  Sarah shrugged. “I trust none of them: the Healer, the Record Keeper, and most especially the Queen. To say nothing of that miserable excuse of a Prince.”

  Charles thought they could all safely agree on that.

  “Let us make haste and go this night,” Charles said, with Clarence nodding at his comments. Sarah rolled her eyes, there was no stopping them. She may as well offer help.

  “Wait,” they turned. “Let me collect a few items for Clara.”

  Charles sighed, exasperated. “We have not time for this.”

  “Take the time,” she said, her eyes steady on his face. He stared back, realizing that she loved Clara too, not the way that he did but no matter. He and Clarence would go in her stead and this was her only way to communicate with Clara.

  He waited while she put some items in a small sack.

  “Where is your knapsack?” she asked.

  Charles shrugged. “It has not been recovered by the Queen's guard.”

  Clarence gave him a sharp look. “The savages.”

  Charles nodded.

  Sarah studied them. Finally she succumbed, giving them fierce hugs. The last tie to Clara was leaving her and she wished with all her heart it could have been she who was going to her friend. One day she would see her again. Sarah held back tears as Charles and Clarence left her standing alone.

  Alone.

  CHAPTER 27

  Queen Ada tapped her foot, waiting for that dim-witted woman, Elvira, to finally be about getting her wardrobe assembled for the day. Or what was left of it.

  She gazed about her room and wondered when she could begin to sample the wonderful new wine that Otto had brought with him.

  Not soon enough, as certain things claimed her attention: primarily where that foolish girl had run off to. Charles, that inept friend of hers, claimed that the savages absconded to the Outside with her.

  Ada was not convinced.

  Just because a few savages had been seen did not mean they had the presence of intellectual fortitude necessary to breach the spheres' defenses. However, there was no other plausible explanation and her own guards assured her that indeed, there was a scar, a tear in the tunnel wall.

  That would mean the unthinkable. That the savages had planned the capture of Clara; which secretly pleased Ada. She could be done with the wretched girl, gain sympathy and force King Otto's hand as this was certainly not her fault that Clara had been taken. She would still have her wine, and no more Clara. She would task the running of the kingdom to... she deliberated, whoever she thought with dismissive musing.

  Ada would need to talk to that fool Charles. And the incompetent guard that allowed himself to be drugged with the twilight sleep. How had that happened for Guardian's sake?

  Imbeciles.

  Something was not agreeing here and she planned to get to the core of it.

  Elvira came into the room with a gown of deep lavender and the Queen smiled. Perfect.

  Everyone knows that royalty wears only purple.

  ****

  Charles took the time to tell his younger brother what he was about, but only enough to satisfy him. He knew that if Queen Ada felt justification, she could bring misery down upon his family. There lay guilt, Charles realized. He remembered his father's words of encouragement, “Bring her back, son, there is no kingdom without her.” He couldn't have agreed more. But shirking his duties in the fields felt like an unfair burden to place on his father and brother.

  He and Clarence made their way through the tunnel. Clarence was familiar with every part, having been the day guard there for one year past. “I know when David takes his break and he always uses the necessary. We have but a small time when he will not be in attendance and we can run for the alcove in the tunnel.”

  Charles looked at Clarence, his feet shod in rough leather boots, buckskins, rough cotton blouse and a knapsack slung over both shoulders. His wavy hair moved about his face from the wind that was forced by steam cleansers which ran the length of the tunnel, the seams allowing the escape of humanity's pollution. Charles was dressed much the same, having borrowed his father's knapsack because the savages had taken his.

  They reached the first sentry point and hesitated, pressing their forms into the permeable surface, sinking against the softness of it like a goose-down bed.

  Clarence whispered, “One minute more...”

  Charles looked at him thinking he had never felt the burden of time more acutely than now.

  “Go!” Clarence urged and they sprinted from that spot. Their feet tapped their backsides as they put on a final burst of speed at the end, rounding the corner to the rest spot with the tear.

  Charles was untangling his limbs from the knapsack, all but flinging it off in his haste to get the salt-mixture. It would be best used in the weakest part of the sphere.

  Clarence glanced about him anxiously. “Hurry, it is because we try so soon after the Princess's capture that we have this chance.”

  “I have found it,” Charles said, hauling out the flask with the salt mixture. It had been very difficult to get the raw salt needed for their escape, as none could be purchased at Trading Days. A certain royal cook had worked it so he had enough salt to break through two sphere walls if he chose.

  Charles gave the briefest of glances at the wall, the area where it had been breached translucent, dimmed. He stood upright, flask in hand. Opening it, he spun the top away hurling the contents at the scar, reopening it like a raw wound.

  The salt-mixture dissolved the wall almost instantly and the air of the Outside rushed in, mingling with the steamed environment of the tunnel. The cooler air was painful on Charles' lungs, he'd never felt anything like it before, having been unconscious for most of the event when the wall was open and Clara was taken.

  Clarence gasped at the new air and squeezed out, “It feels thin,” he exhaled and coughed, “cold.”

  Charles nodded, saving his speech for when he needed it. Regardless, it mattered not, they had done the deed and needed to press forward.

  So they did.

  They slipped through the hole they had caused and into a night filled with real stars. Wind and air which felt fresh and fragrant, their starved lungs took in all that they could. The men raced to the Great Forest, lungs burning while guided by a moon which rode high and bright.

  Lighting their path into the Great Forest Outside.

  CHAPTER 28

  Clara walked back to Lillian's chamber, passing through the kitchen, the glasses lining the wood shelf like drops of rain caught in the sunlight. A sharp stab of homesickness for the sphere pierced her heart. That she would feel thus filled Clara with confusion. What was wrong with her that she would miss it? It may be as simple as it being the only home she had ever known. It was a wonderful home before Father had died and she would think on that as she opened the chamber door to attend to Lillian, her eyes burning with tiredness. She must rest soon or she would drop where she stood.

  Lillian lay upon the beautiful bed, the gauzy covering making her face appear luminescent, obscure.

  “Ah, I see Jack has told the entirety of the clan that I ail,” she said with mirth.

  “Not all,” Clara smiled back, matching the humor without effort. Lillian did look a tad green. Clara could not imagine tending to a babe at this juncture in her life. She sighed sadly, holding a fierce hope that someday she would have a family.

  Lillian turned on her side, looking at Clara critically. “You look tired, Princess.”

  “Clara,” she reminded absently.

  Lillian nodded. Rising, she steadied herself on the bed post, walking past Clara and opening the door. “Follow me, we have a small room where you may rest. After supper, we will go and bathe at the hot springs.” Lillian looked away dreamily for a moment. “It is a sublime place.”

  Clara was indeed looking forward to becoming clean. She followed Lillian into a tiny chamber with an open casement window, the hinges held by brass that had been nailed into the wood and glea
med with a red hue in the filtered light from the forest.

  Clara spied a narrow bed directly underneath the open window. She walked slowly over to where it lay, resplendent with ivory bed linen and a light comforter.

  She turned to Lillian. “Thank you.”

  “You are most welcome. You will see, Clara, that we are not savages here. We are a different people; we are human beings, just as the sphere-dwellers are.”

  Clara nodded and smiled, which turned into a gigantic yawn. Her face felt much better. She ran her fingers gently over the worst of the swelling and thought it subdued. Her eye was almost completely open now.

  Lillian smiled back. “I will go lie down myself.” and with that, she closed the door and Clara stripped off the skirt and blouse she had worn but an hour, laying them carefully over the sole wooden chair which stood in the corner of the room. Her hair hung loose and she wished fiercely for her knapsack which held her grooming tools and realized one of the Band must have hers and Charles' as well.

  She lay down under the comforter and allowed her body to loosen in stages, so tense from all the running and tumultuous circumstances. Clara's tiredness consumed her but she lay awake for a time, overtired.

  She listened to the sound of water, it was strange and delightful at the same time. And the air! She did not know if she would ever become accustomed to the fragrance of the woods which clung to each breath that she took.

  Clara gazed out the window, taking in the great branches of the trees, their deep green shone like... like the decanter that the Queen drank her beloved wine from. Gooseflesh rose upon her arms, and it was then, in that realm between sleeping and waking, that sleep prevailed, dragging her under into unconsciousness.

  The disturbing echo of her memories following the spiral of her sleep.

  ****

  Bracus looked down on the sleeping form of Clara. Not a muscle moved, her breath causing the barest rise and fall of her chest. He gazed at her for such a long time, Lillian touched his shoulder and he sighed quietly as to not awaken her, closing the door behind him soundlessly.

  “She needs the rest, do not fret over her. You have done as the President asked. She is here, safe.” Lillian looked at him curiously, the captain of the Band was an enigma. Not unkind... but not a member of the Band she would chat with casually. Jack spoke of him in the highest of terms. However, there was much below the surface of this warrior.

  Bracus swung his face toward Lillian and met her gaze. “I do not like to leave the clan unguarded, the Band split by the fragment now.”

  “We have Stephen, Matthew and Joseph. All will be well. They did not penetrate the gate, the perimeter, nothing.”

  Mayhap it was not penetration they sought? Could it be that it was their desire to split the Band, so that when the clan lay more vulnerable to attack they could move against it? That is exactly what Bracus would do had he designs on striking another faction.

  Lillian looked at the emotions that played over his face, not sure what they meant but she understood this: there was more to his interest in the Princess than mere protecting. She meant something entirely different to him. Call it woman’s intuition. And what of it? Except that Lillian knew that he would need to return her to the sphere from which she came and then what? Would the sphere-dwellers be agreeable? There was no way to know. She may not be a woman he could have.

  Bracus would have felt better to see Clara awake and tell her goodbye. No matter. He would be gone but a fore-night.

  He nodded a goodbye at Lillian, having turned down her offer of a drink. He did not wish to spend one more second inside the gates of the clan. He wanted to retrieve Evelyn and return to Clara. His duty then his wish. In that order. He was nothing if not disciplined.

  Lillian watched him leave with James and Jacob. As she kissed Jack, he and Philip mounted their horses, Jack's face revealing how much he would worry over her in his absence. Why he worried she knew not. The finest guards were here watching over her and the clan.

  What could go wrong?

  ****

  Anna watched Joseph approach, grimy from the acquisition of the Princess. His grim expression told her he knew of Evelyn's kidnap but when his eyes caught hers, his face lightened. She could not help but give a small smile back. He might be a male who would treat her well. She had been here a half year and had yet to be threatened. She felt like a coward, leaving her clan, leaving the other females at the possible peril of the Band. There were more females in her sea clan and not all the Band was bad, but there was a great deal of in-fighting amongst the males over the females.

  She had a hard life in her clan, the endless chores, the violence a constant thing. She was finally becoming accustomed to the easy cadence of this clan, everyone working together as a unit, gathering, working, cooking, and maintenance of the dwellings. Things were shared and it was something that made Anna feel a part of something larger and it lifted her heart. As he approached Anna she felt that stirring and tried to squelch it. His hold on her deepening like fingers in flesh. He moved her soul and she tried with everything she was to resist that pull. Her disappointment in other males kept her from allowing too much for this one.

  Joseph was very glad to see Anna. Her tentative smile acted as a salve on his travel weariness and stress over the plight of the small girl, Evelyn. Who had surely seen the murder of her father then been torn from the woods by the fragment.

  He longed to sweep her up into his arms but knew that would scatter their fragile bond like dandelion seed.

  Instead, he looked down into her face, still closed to him, and squeezed her shoulder. “I am glad to see you well.”

  “And I you,” Anna said, stepping closer, her heart beating like a trapped thing in her throat, panicked.

  Joseph held his ground, it was almost too much to hope for. After months of working his way closer to her, trying at every turn for her acceptance, she had made a move toward him.

  He held himself still. She must wish it, he would force nothing.

  Anna placed first one hand on the left side of his waist and then the right, feeling the hardness of him underneath her hands. Supple skin over hardened muscle...she stepped closer yet, her head a breath away from touching his chest. Her fear and bravery combined in a heady rush, making her dizzy.

  Joseph could stand it no more. She was touching him and he had to touch her back. His hands found purchase on the small of her back, he pulled her to his body, molding it to his and she gave a soft moan of pleasure, surprising them both. As she began to pull away he held her tighter and she stiffened.

  Anna was immediately frightened and although she had initiated the contact, she did not know what to do about it. His arms tightened about her like steel bands, his heart beating strong and fast in her ear.

  “Do not... do not go. Let me hold you but a moment longer.”

  Anna clenched her teeth, willing her body to relax. This was Joseph, a male that had treated her with kindness and been tender with her each day she had been here. She had to learn to trust him. She was so utterly lonely she could taste it like bitter fruit.

  She would force herself to trust.

  Joseph felt her relax in his arms and it was the single best feeling he had ever had the pleasure of knowing. This is what life was about. There must be something beyond existing and he meant to grab it. He kissed the top of her head, which smelled of the soap of his clan., everything that was clean and pure.

  Joseph held Anna tighter.

  CHAPTER 29

  Charles and Clarence were tired. They had not time to appreciate their escape into the Outside. In the pursuit of Princess Clara as their focus, the distractions of the new environment were of no help. Twigs, grass, large branches hindered, tore and laboriously slowed their progress. Charles had only books on tracking techniques with which to guide them and this was the savages' environ. They were familiar. He and Clarence were not and more and more Charles felt that weakness as an exquisite paralysis.

  They presse
d on.

  Presently they passed an odd looking pole, worn smooth, as long as the banquet table in the Gathering Room, with two shorter poles anchoring it. He noted there was manure scattered about the area.

  Clarence squatted down, looking closer at the construction of it. A drop of sweat ran down his face from temple to chin, falling to the ground on top of droppings where lazy flies hovered. That was another thing that Charles could not get accustomed to: the sheer volume of insects and other small creatures roaming freely, untroubled by their presence.

  “It is a pole to tether a horse,” Clarence stated.

  “How do you know?”

  “There is one for Trading Day that the other spheres which visit tie their horses upon.”

  Charles looked at it, realizing that the mystery of the savages continued to deepen.

  He and Clarence scouted the area taking deep pulls of water from their flasks. Soon it would not be enough. They would have to find a water source.

  That is when they heard it... water. Charles could not believe their luck.

  It was ten minutes more before they found the source of the water. A small creek flowed through the deepest part of the forest but what gave them pause was the depressions which lay beside the creek. People had lain here.

  Clara had been here.

  Charles knew this because her crown lay sparkling in the dim light.

  He picked it up, searching the filigree gallery. Where was she? he thought, clenching the crown, its delicate metal biting the tender flesh of his palm.

  He and Clarence looked at each other.

  “Mayhap she left it as a sign she had come this way?” Clarence speculated.

  Charles nodded. “Possibly. But I think it more likely that it escaped her notice. After all, it is not every day that one is kidnapped by a merciless group of primitives.” Obviously, they were not as primitive as the People of the Sphere had presumed.

  They pressed on, using the hoof prints of the horses to follow behind, praying to the Guardians that rain would not come and wipe away all traces of the trail of bread crumbs which followed Clara.