by Mara Gan
I groaned, not wanting to move but happy to see him so energetic. “Why?”
He chuckled. “We have a meeting with Kos and Synie this morning. Kos messaged me about an hour ago.” He leaned over and kissed my hair. “And you need to get your stitches fixed. I shouldn’t have let you stay here all night.”
I grinned. “You would have had to drag me out of here.”
“And I didn’t want to anyway,” he said, giving me that lopsided smile of his. He went into his closet and threw a shirt at me. “Here. Something to wear over your hospital gown on the way back to your apartment.” He paused. “Besides, you look so cute in my shirts.”
I narrowed my eyes playfully, remembering that morning he had slept—or not slept, I supposed—on my couch after my unfortunate encounter with Durga. “Is that why you gave me such a funny look that morning?”
He snorted. “I’m lucky I didn’t lose it altogether,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “You were so damned cute.”
I laughed. “Well, I don’t really need your shirt today,” I said, smiling secretively. “We can just use the secret door to my room.”
My Protector stopped and slowly turned back to me. His eyes were suspicious as he studied me. I couldn’t stop the grin from tugging at my mouth. “You knew about it before I even arrived,” he reasoned. “And how many other secret exits have you been utilizing? Oh, god, you have one in your office, too, don’t you?”
I grinned wider.
He rolled his eyes. “I see something else on our to-do list today. You’re going to show me every one of those damned things.”
I laughed and stood, moving toward the no-longer-secret door to my apartments so I could dress in normal clothes. Synie and Skore had replaced my bedroom and wardrobe already, so there was bound to be something wearable in there.
I prayed it wasn’t pink.
***
A short while later, we were sitting in Synie’s office, and I was wearing something that was thankfully not pink but just a simple black tunic. Clearly, Skore had felt sorry for me, what with the explosion and everything, and had restocked my closet with things I would actually want to wear.
I was starting to feel tired, though, as Dr. Remy had told me I would; I had a lot of healers and painkillers running through my system, but getting back to my normal schedule would take a few days.
Not too shabby, considering I had been dead, technically.
I sat on a sofa next to my Protector—my Intended, I corrected myself with a smile—my head leaning on his shoulder. He was listening to Synie discuss details of the upcoming Joining ceremony.
Since both of us had agreed, wholeheartedly, to it, the Moirae, Kos, Synie, and even Cepheus had wanted the ceremony to happen as soon as possible. Naturally, Synie was freaking out over the details of conducting such an important event on only a few days’ notice. She had Skore and Callie helping, but still. No one had done a Joining in centuries, so this was quite the big deal. I wondered, absently, what color Callie would dye her hair for the occasion. I was rooting for green.
And I was the Heir, after all. My Joining should be a big deal, or so Synie said. I really didn’t care. Perseus didn’t care about anything except the security. I had made it clear that, as long as the ceremony happened, I couldn’t care less about any of the details. My only request, which had been granted, was that the ceremony happen in the Hypethral.
But Synie wanted to cement details like the clothing, the music, the invitations, the people, the banquet, even my hairstyle.
She finally threw her gold-banded arms up, exasperated. “You two are no help at all,” she complained.
Perseus pulled me closer to his side and smiled as he kissed the top of my head. “Sorry.” He’d been reluctant to let me out of his sight, let alone out of his grasp, since we had left his apartments. I certainly wasn’t complaining. He was so incredibly attentive and loving; I never thought I would like so much attention, but I guess things were different when the attention went both ways.
“You have no preferences about the ceremony?” Synie needled. “None? What about the food?”
I grinned, turning to look at her. “Food is good.”
“I meant what kind.”
I shrugged, being deliberately obtuse. “The tasty kind?”
Synie threw her folder up in the air, the papers scattering. “I give up. How can you not care about this ceremony?”
“The ceremony is just the means to an end, Zyn,” I said as I leaned against Perseus’s shoulder and yawned.
He glanced down at me. “Are you feeling alright, little one?” he murmured.
“Just tired.”
Synie’s green eyes studied me. “It might be time for more of your painkillers.”
“I might need more painkillers just to get through this meeting,” I teased.
“Ha-ha,” Synie replied. “Did you not get any this morning when you saw Remy, or are they just wearing off because you’re a mutant?”
Perseus grinned. “She’s just a mutant. I wonder if that’s what caused the pointy ears?”
I scowled at him and he grinned wider.
Synie chuckled. “All right, I will finish the preparations without either of you. Go see Dr. Remy, then get some rest.”
I nodded and had stood, feeling Perseus’s hand supporting my back, when Mel burst into the room, startling all of us.
Synie stood swiftly, all business as she noted the look on Mel’s face. “Mel, what is it?”
Mel glanced worriedly at me and Perseus, her curly blonde hair swinging wildly around her face. “Heir,” she said, breathing only slightly harder than usual, “Protector. Please forgive the intrusion. But Kenzi was not the one who put the bounty on the princess.”
Perseus stilled. “What?”
“But he confessed.” I frowned.
Mel shook her head. “He was the immediate threat, yes, and it was he who sent the note, but he was only an intermediary,” she said, tone urgent. “He had his own agenda, but he was paid by someone else. Clee and Thal just finished interrogating him—he finally cracked. His orders were to deliver Meda, alive, to someone who was waiting on a nearby asteroid.”
My hand flew to my face. “Oh god,” I breathed, turning to Perseus. “Don’t you remember? He said something about an agent. This must be what he meant.”
“Who is the ‘someone else’?” Synie asked, stepping forward.
“We don’t know,” Mel said, face pinched with worry. “Kenzi didn’t know her, either, but he did say he thinks she’s the one behind the Destruction.”
“Her?” Synie looked worried. “He was paid by a woman?”
I frowned at her, not sure why that seemed so significant.
An explosion shook the room, rattling bookcases and knocking us off our feet. I stumbled back onto the couch, and Perseus moved to shield me from falling debris as we all glanced around in shock.
“What the hell was that?” Synie snarled, looking around.
Mel flipped to her feet. “Clee thinks, from what Kenzi said, whoever was behind all this is willing to destroy the entire city just to get Meda, just as she destroyed Halia and Barnabus.” Her dark blue eyes were intense as they focused on me. “The Moirae have a plan to hide the you and the Protector until we can find this woman. You have to come with me to the Hall, now.”
Perseus grabbed my arm, taking me by surprise, and yanked me toward the door, none too ceremoniously. I squeaked, stumbling.
He steadied me. “I apologize, sweetheart,” he murmured, taking a moment to brush my cheek. “But I can’t lose you.” He took a deep breath. “Not again.”
I shook my head and smiled. “I’m fine. Let’s go.”
He nodded, pulling me along more gently this time.
Synie followed closely behind as we hurried through the Esplanades, Mel leading the way to the Hall of the Moirae.
I glanced around, feeling unsettled. I couldn’t see where the explosion had come from, but people were runnin
g frantic, with that kind of panic that only comes with the coupling of uncertainty and fear. I was glad Perseus was touching me so I couldn’t feel everyone’s terror in addition to my own sense of urgency.
We reached the Hall as another explosion rocked the city. The same grizzled old Moirai who had inked Perseus’s tattoo greeted us, hurriedly.
“Heir,” she rasped. “Protector. Come. We must hide you both, before it is too late.”
Synie glanced around. “What is it you have planned?”
The Moirai led us to a small room off the main Hall. Inside were two human-shaped pods.
Another explosion, this one louder, slammed us into the wall. Chunks of the ceiling drifted down over our heads.
“Get in to the pods,” she shouted, her voice insistent as she went to a control panel.
“What are these?” Perseus yelled over the noise.
“Transport pods,” Synie shouted back. “Something Callie and Thal have been working on as a security measure. The Moirae are sending you off-city, is that right?”
“Yes,” the old woman replied, punching buttons. “Now hurry!”
“But what about the city?” I asked, worried. “How—”
“Shut up and get in the pod, Meda,” Synie yelled, pushing me toward it. “We will handle the attack better without you.”
“These are untested, aren’t they?” Mel asked, concerned.
“Yes,” Synie said, helping me into the pod. “But we’ve no time to be certain.”
“These will transport you to an isolated planet, far from all of this,” the Moirai said, scanning the panels.
“How will we find each other?” I asked, looking worriedly at Perseus as he approached my pod.
The Moirai shook her head. “It’s an inexact science,” she said, frantically pushing a few more buttons and frowning. “It might have been easier if you had completed the Joining ceremony.”
“Do not worry, little one,” Perseus said softly, touching my cheek. “I will find you.”
I looked up at him as he bent over my pod. “How can you be sure?”
“Because I will always find you,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss my lips.
I caught his hand and kissed it. “I love you,” I whispered.
He squeezed my hand in return. “I will see you soon, sweetheart.”
I grinned at him, worry still in my eyes. “You know, you never really answered my question.”
“I know.”
The pod’s window hissed shut over me, making my Protector’s face look fuzzy through the tinted glass. There was a whooshing noise, some tingling, and then all went black. k12
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
A Pacific Northwesterner by birth and disposition, Mara has lived in Washington DC, Oregon, Japan, and most recently the beautiful Pacific Grove, California, before returning to her roots in Seattle. By day she teaches history to unsuspecting teenagers, and by night she writes books and travels to far-flung places. She loves to be with animals, read, play sports, and drink more London Fogs than is likely good for her.
Connect with Mara on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/maraganbooks
