As she approached, Chloe suddenly stopped in her tracks.
A sandy-haired, bare-chested man in deerskin leggings stood near the center of the island, holding a bow. She might have noticed him before, but he was quite still and wore little in the way of clothing, a creature to match the Wilds. Despite the fact that he had his back to her, she recognized him in an instant. She felt her heart rate increase.
Dion was shooting arrows. He stood facing the broad tree, taking careful aim and then releasing. Chloe watched him at practice, feeling a mixture of emotions ranging from trepidation to tenderness. She could see half of his back and his face in profile. He was frowning in concentration, his posture somehow angry. He was shooting arrows in the same way that a man kicks a dog, throws furniture to the ground, or drinks jug after jug of wine. He was upset.
Chloe saw that he wasn’t just shooting at the wide trunk, he was aiming for a black discoloration in the pale wood the size of her palm. He bent down, picked up an arrow from the cluster at his feet, nocked the shaft to the string of his bow, then in one smooth movement drew the string to his cheek. The muscles in his arm bunched as he held the position for the briefest instant, sighting along the arrow shaft. He fired, and yet another arrow sank into the tree trunk, joining a circle of other shafts embedded in the dark area. He immediately crouched to fetch one more, making no sound of pleasure or acknowledgement at the fact that he had struck an impossible target at more than sixty paces.
He was lost in concentration, so rather than calling out from across the river, she decided to use the fallen log to cross to the island. Hoisting herself up, she stepped gracefully along the log until in just a few moments she was halfway across. The riverbank was taller than the island, so with every step she was losing height. She glanced at the water below; it was slow-moving, deep enough that she couldn’t see the bottom.
Chloe kept her eyes on Dion as she drew nearer. She had seen bare-chested men before, but she’d never been so fascinated by the play of muscles on a man’s back. He was tanned and lean, clean-shaven and square-jawed. He was opposite to his brother, the man she was destined to marry, in every way.
So suddenly that it shocked her, Dion whirled.
He roared a challenge, his arrow suddenly pointed directly at her. His expression was murderous. The bow creaked. Deadly power was about to be unleashed.
Chloe’s arms waved at the air, searching for something to grab hold of. She slipped.
This was Dion’s special place, his alone. He came here when he wanted to be away from the Village, and away from the eldren who lived there. When he was hot he would swim, and when he was frustrated he would shoot arrows.
His old life was gone, yet this new life felt wrong in every way. All the talk of wildness made him feel even more out of control. This focusing of his concentration and release of sudden energy calmed him.
He even perversely liked the fact that the sharp arrow points were made of iron. The eldren didn’t like him to keep them in the Village – even being close to metal made them uncomfortable – so when he wasn’t hunting he kept his bow and arrows in a sheltered hollow in the base of the tree. Humans felt an innate passion for metal; it invoked completely opposite sensations in eldren. Dion had always struggled with steel swords and shields, but he sometimes sat and sharpened an iron arrowhead with a stone. There was no pain when he did, no sense of distaste. He couldn’t do all a human could, and he couldn’t harness all the abilities of an eldran, but he could do some things in both worlds.
Picking up yet another arrow, nocking and drawing, he sighted along the shaft and tried to find an empty space in the cluster of its kin where he could make his strike. Despite Zachary’s teaching, he didn’t want to lose his skill with a bow, and if anything he was better now than he’d ever been. Dion was worried that if the eldren under Zachary ever came into conflict again with Triton, he would be useless, unable to help in any way. The Village had guardians – like Eiric, Zachary’s son, and Jonas, a powerful warrior – but every member of the group was expected to do his part.
Thinking of forthcoming conflict, Dion spied movement out of the corner of his eye. A figure, dressed in yellow or perhaps the tan color of deerskin, was creeping across the log that led to the island.
Already tensed, mentally prepared for battle, he whirled.
He roared a shout of challenge. But with stunned surprise he realized he was aiming his bow at Chloe, dressed in a pale yellow chiton, not creeping across but so shocked by his cry that she was suddenly struggling to keep her footing. Her brown eyes went wide.
Chloe’s hands waved vainly against empty air. Staggering as if he’d actually struck her, she slipped. Her body tumbled and then she hit the surface of the river with an ungainly splash.
‘Chloe!’
Shaking himself into action, filled with panic, Dion dropped his bow and began to run. Images flashed through his mind as he remembered their time together, fleeing Lamara, sailing across the Maltherean Sea, fighting storms and bailing water, leaving the Calypso behind at Cinder Fen, and the savagery of the battle to save Phalesia and the golden ark. He plunged into the shallows, searching the river in desperation. He hadn’t seen her swim . . . But surely a Phalesian princess could swim?
Moving swiftly, he clambered over a flat rock to reach the deeper water. He prepared to dive in when Chloe’s head popped to the surface and she opened her mouth to gasp in a lungful of air. He instead crouched on the rock and leaned out, holding out a hand. She reached up and gripped tightly, her face filled with terror.
In an instant her expression shifted to narrowed focus and fierce determination. She yanked hard, pulling with surprising strength. Dion tried to resist but, caught off-balance, he toppled into the river head first.
For a moment everything was cool water and darkness. Feeling gravel under his feet, he kicked to bring his head back to the surface. But he felt strong hands take hold of his shoulders and press down. He spluttered and fought, kicking at the riverbed again.
Finally, she let him rise to the surface.
After drawing in a breath he met her eyes, too taken aback to know what to say. Her legs kicked as she trod water; Dion’s feet could just touch the bottom but it was too deep for her, so she still had her hands on his shoulders.
Chloe’s face was just inches from his, and although her eyes were still narrowed, their brown color was soft, and they were large eyes. Her arched, upturned nose still gave her an imperious, proud air. Her wide mouth pursed as her red lips parted.
‘Cold, isn’t it?’ she said, scowling.
Dion steadied his legs so that he was supporting them both. He took her hands and pried them away from their dangerous proximity to his throat.
‘What are you doing here?’ he asked. ‘I almost shot you.’
The contact between Dion’s hands and hers was electric. For an instant he didn’t know where he was, only that he was holding the hands of a beautiful woman. Chloe was panting, her chest rising and falling with every breath. Dion knew that just below the surface there was only a thin, sodden garment, wrapped loosely around her body, separating the two of them.
‘Yes, you did,’ she replied. ‘You almost shot me. And now look at us.’
‘Are you . . . Did you come here to see me?’
‘What makes you think I would come to see you? I’ve known Zachary since I was a child. You don’t think I might have my own reasons for visiting?’
Despite his conversation with Zachary, he was surprised at how disappointed he felt. ‘Fair enough.’ He still held her hands. Seeing her glare, he was vaguely worried that she planned to strike him. He frowned. ‘Does Nikolas know you’re here?’
‘What does it matter?’ Chloe lifted her chin. Her voice shook with suppressed emotion. ‘Is he all you care about? After what he did to you?’
‘You know I care about you.’ The words were out of his mouth before he knew what he was saying. But rather than turn her nose up at him, Chloe’s face softened.
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‘Dion . . .’ She said his name slowly. ‘Since I last saw you . . .’ She faltered and then tried again. ‘I don’t care what you are,’ she murmured, so low that if her face hadn’t been inches from his he wouldn’t have heard her. ‘The Oracle said I would fear you, and I did, but I don’t anymore.’
Dion’s face moved forward. He felt like he could hardly breathe. In a haze he released her hands, but only to pull her closer. Her legs curled around him; he was now supporting her entire weight. One of his arms traveled down her back, curling around her narrow waist, while the other supported the back of her head. His hand on her waist felt the curve of her hip and then traveled along her leg, feeling the bare skin of her thigh. Her arms went around his neck.
Before he knew what was happening, Dion’s lips were on hers. If the contact before had been electric, the kiss was the most intense sensation he’d ever felt. He lost track of where he was and even who he was. He only knew that what he was doing was right. Time stretched out; every thought vanished into oblivion.
After an eternity they broke the kiss, smiling, lowering eyes and then lifting them, bodies pressed tightly in the water, each looking into the other’s face. He knew he would never tire of examining her features. Her dark hair was piled high on her head, wet through but styled and pinned in a fashion he’d never seen on her before.
Dion’s smile slowly faded.
Remembrance thrust itself forcefully into his consciousness. With a sudden sense of horror, he realized why her hair was arranged the way it was. She no longer wore it free, cascading down her back. She was a woman betrothed to another man. And that man was someone he had known his entire life.
‘No!’ Dion gasped. He shook his head violently. ‘You’re marrying my brother!’
She swallowed, wet material floating around her as he disentangled her arms, pushing her away and turning his back, not trusting himself to look at her. Soon he heard sounds of swimming and then the rush of water as she left the river and climbed up onto the bank.
Turning, he saw that she was standing with her back to him in her wet chiton, in the middle of the grassy area where he’d been firing arrows. He made his own exit and came up to stand behind her.
He realized she was crying.
‘Come back with me,’ she said. ‘You don’t have to go to Xanthos. Come to Phalesia.’
He drew in a deep breath; even now he wanted to take hold of her. ‘I can’t go back with you. This is the way things have to be. It’s better if we forget each other.’
‘Your brother rejects you. I know what he did. I know he sent a messenger here, telling you not to return.’
‘That is his choice. He is the king.’
‘Why do you support him? What about your choice?’ Her voice firmed; she spoke bitterly. ‘Or my choice, for that matter. My life is cursed.’ Her shoulders shook. ‘For now, I still have my father and my sister. I still have my home. But when I . . . When I marry him, I will lose everything.’
Dion spoke softly; he wished he wasn’t speaking to her back. ‘Why are you here? What is the situation in Phalesia? Are you safe?’
She gathered the folds of her garment, checking them before turning around to face him once more. Her eyes were slightly red, but her strength had returned.
‘I need to see Zachary. That’s why I came here. I have to talk to him about the ark. Nikolas wants to move the horn to an iron box and melt the gold, using the money for the navy.’
‘I suppose that makes sense.’
‘But why put it in gold if it doesn’t need to be? Why did the Aleutheans place it in such a valuable container?’
‘I can’t answer you,’ Dion said. ‘You’re right, you need to speak to Zachary. They say Aleuthea sank beneath the waves. So why didn’t the ark sink with it? It’s likely something Zachary can’t answer. But something tells me we need to know.’
‘Will you come with me? Just as far as the Village?’
‘Chloe . . .’ Dion hesitated. His heart was still pounding in his chest. She was his brother’s betrothed, he had to keep reminding himself. His mind was in turmoil, thoughts conflicting. A moment ago he’d been worried that his place wasn’t with the eldren, and now her arrival had made him even more confused. ‘I think I should stay here.’ Then a rustle of leaves made him look up. Despite himself, he smiled. ‘But I might know someone who can guide you.’
As he fixed his sights on a thicket at the top of the riverbank, he heard Chloe exclaim when she also saw the young eldran woman’s face, merged with the brush so she was difficult to make out.
Dion called, ‘I can see you, Liana.’
The eldran’s face became startled and she looked like she might flee, but she left her hiding place and walked out into the open. She was slight, short for her race but pretty, with a heart-shaped face and shoulder-length silver hair that fell in front of her eyes.
‘Come with me.’ Dion took Chloe by the hand.
6
As she often did, Liana had been watching Dion. She found him fascinating. It wasn’t that he was handsome, like Zachary’s son Eiric, or imposing, like the warrior Jonas. Dion was like her: he couldn’t change.
Maybe if he learned, he could tell her how to change. Perhaps he could show her how not to be so afraid.
She thought she’d been silent, as only an eldran could be, but she knew she’d been caught when he called out her name and looked directly at her. She left the bush she’d been peeking through and sheepishly showed herself, but neither Dion nor the young human woman with him seemed angry. Following the high bank, Liana approached the end of the fallen log as Dion assisted the dark-haired woman across.
Liana heard Dion murmur something to his companion. ‘Be gentle with her, she’s an orphan. Both her parents were lost to wildness in the battle. Zachary and Aella care for her now.’ He then smiled warmly when he neared. ‘Liana,’ he said. ‘This is Chloe.’
‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Liana,’ Chloe said with a gentle smile.
Liana had thought that Chloe’s wide mouth and upturned nose made her look a little haughty, but when she smiled it transformed her face. Liana said the first thing that came into her head.
‘You are very beautiful when you smile.’
Chloe’s smile broadened. ‘That’s kind of you to say. How old are you, Liana?’
‘I am no longer a youngling.’ Liana scowled.
‘Chloe,’ Dion said. ‘Eldren are long-lived and don’t commonly discuss the age of adults.’
‘Oh,’ Chloe said. ‘I apologize.’
He grinned. ‘Liana is young, though, so you can be forgiven. Not too long ago she was a youngling, and every birthday was celebrated with a feast.’
‘When winter comes I will have nineteen years,’ Liana said, lifting her chin.
Chloe made a sound of surprise. ‘We’re close to the same age, then.’
Liana was also surprised. Chloe carried herself in a way that made her think she was much older than she was.
A shadow suddenly crossed Dion’s face. ‘How long were you watching us?’
Color came to Chloe’s cheeks.
‘Not long,’ Liana said.
They both looked relieved. Dion spoke again. ‘Liana, Chloe needs to find Zachary. Can you help her?’
Liana tilted her head and then nodded. ‘Yes.’
Chloe then went to say something to Dion, but he forestalled her, holding up a hand. His next words made the human woman’s face fall.
‘Chloe,’ he said softly but firmly. ‘This is the last time we will meet.’
‘The last . . . ?’
‘We live in different worlds now. The next time your father wants to speak with Zachary, tell him to send someone else. I think it best we don’t see each other again.’
After leading Chloe back to her horse to get fresh clothing, Liana took her to the Village. They traveled through the woodlands and the region of grassy hills where the river snaked back and forth, Liana setting a swift pace as she and C
hloe asked each other questions.
‘Do you know Dion well?’ Liana asked.
Chloe pushed a branch out of the way; she was lumbering through the forest like a bear, although Liana decided against saying anything.
‘I . . . I suppose I do.’ Chloe looked sad. ‘Perhaps I know him better than anyone.’
‘How did he manage to live among so many humans?’
Chloe took some time to answer, making Liana look at her with open curiosity. What was so difficult about the question?
‘He didn’t find it difficult at all. He said he found it difficult to carry and use steel weapons, and at the time he didn’t know why. But there is a lot of variation in the way we live, and what we do. He found his place as a sailor and trader. He could use his bow to hunt and fight in battle.’
‘That weapon frightens me.’ Liana shuddered. ‘I am glad he keeps it outside the Village.’
‘You don’t have bows?’ Chloe asked, surprised. ‘Arrows don’t have to have iron heads.’
‘Why would we?’ Liana shrugged. ‘As ogres and giants sometimes spears and clubs are used, but a bow is too fragile, too complex, for a giant.’
‘So you rely on changing, even to eat?’
‘Yes,’ Liana said bitterly.
They crossed the river at a ford, where the water only reached their ankles and they were able to hop from stone to stone. Traveling uphill again now, Liana glanced at Chloe when the human woman spoke again.
‘Dion said you lost your parents, in the fight to save my city. I’m sorry, Liana. I’m sorry for your loss.’
‘It wasn’t your fault,’ Liana said. ‘They didn’t change back in time.’
‘It’s a dangerous thing, changing.’
Liana suddenly rounded on Chloe. ‘Yes, he told you, but that doesn’t mean I want to talk about it. It is certainly nothing you can help me with.’
Silver Road (The Shifting Tides Book 2) Page 5
