by James Tate
I opened my mouth to tell them of the terrifying voice. About how the faceless man had appeared out of nowhere, how he’d known my real name, and how he’d lifted me like I weighed nothing more than a bag of flour. But no sound came out.
Confused, I tried again. My lips moved, but no sound came out.
“Who was he, Luna?” Zan demanded, suspicion coloring his words and triggering a spike of irritation in me.
“I can’t tell you,” I eventually said with a frustrated sigh.
“You mean you won’t,” Zan muttered with a deep scowl creasing his features.
Annoyed at his reaction, I just ground my teeth together and glared at him.
Lee shook his head, understanding me completely. “No, she means she can’t. Which tells us that there is someone else with magic involved here.”
At a loss for anything else to say, I just shrugged again.
“Is there anything else that needs to be cleared from the air, Your Highness?” I asked Zan with just a smidgen of sarcasm. Okay, fine. A lot of sarcasm. I wasn’t altogether sure when I had lost any scrap of respect for their royal position. Maybe I’d never had any to begin with? Either way, my use of the honorific was purely to get that little flash of irritation in his gaze.
A half smile tugged at his lips, and he invaded my personal space a little more. “Actually, yes. There was one more thing.” His warm hand cupped my cheek, drawing me closer until his lips met mine in a kiss more gentle than I thought Zan capable of.
The soft brush of his mouth shocked me, making a shiver travel up my spine as my lips parted beneath his. Every fiber of my being sang with an odd combination of feeling totally right and also so incredibly wrong.
Zan’s tongue met mine, and I moaned softly, pressing my body closer to his and silently begging him for more.
The sound of a glass breaking was what jerked me back into the present, and I pulled back from Zan’s kiss with a gasp, my attention flying across the room to where a wineglass lay shattered on the floor beside Ty.
“Oops,” the muscular prince deadpanned, as though he hadn’t just intentionally knocked it off the table, which—based on Lee’s barely contained laughter—was exactly what I guessed happened.
Zan’s eyes flashed with annoyance for the briefest second before a lazy smile traveled across his lips and he turned to face his brothers with a cocky shrug. “Careful, Thibault, you’re looking a little green with envy there.”
It had been said in a joking way, and Ty grinned back. But amusement wasn’t reaching anyone’s eyes, and the tension in the room was palpable. Even Lee’s fists were clenched at his sides, and his jaw was so tight he seemed carved from stone.
Fuck. What in Aana’s name am I doing to these guys?
“I can’t do this,” I muttered, mostly to myself as I shoved Zan back a few steps so I could duck out the door.
“Calla!” Lee called after me. “Wait—”
“No!” I snapped back, grabbing the doorknob of the room Jules was supposedly staying in. “I need some space.” I paused then, looking over my shoulder at him standing there in the hallway with far too many emotions on his face for me to name. “Can you please just give me some space?”
He hesitated a moment, his brows drawn down tight like he might refuse my request. But after a moment he gave a short nod.
“As long as you need, Calla,” he said in a soft voice, his eyes filled with emotions that I wasn’t ready to accept. Ignoring the loaded statement, I pushed into Jules’s bedroom and shut the door firmly behind me with a heavy sigh.
My reprieve was short-lived, though, as Jules’s voice came from the attached washroom.
“John? Is that you?” she sounded flirty and sexy, and my brows shot up in surprise as my former best friend, turned fake maid and watchdog pranced out of the washroom in nothing but a skimpy nightgown. A nightgown from my wardrobe, if I wasn’t mistaken.
Not that I’d ever worn the fragile nightclothes that had arrived with all my other palace-provided outfits, but that wasn’t really the point.
Jules spotted me and let out a pathetic little squeal, her face draining of color like she was seeing a ghost.
“Surprised to see me?” I taunted, even though it was pretty damn obvious she was surprised. “Who’s John?”
She ignored my question, grabbing a robe to throw over herself even as she gaped at me without blinking. “Rybet, I thought you were...” She trailed off, her cheeks flushing pink.
“Dead? That’s nice of you to be so optimistic. Is that why you’re still here, then? You were too scared to return to Bloodeye with the news of my death?” I folded my arms over my chest and leaned my shoulders against the door as I glared at her.
Jules’s mouth tightened. “Can you blame me? He’s counting on using you to gain control of the whole seven kingdoms. We both know he’s not above shooting the messenger, and I quite like being alive.”
I rolled my eyes and sighed. “You do realize I’m never going to play along with his insane plan, don’t you? I’d have to be a totally airheaded nitwit to give him control of the throne, even if I somehow managed to win this stupid game as Lady Callaluna.”
“Of course I know that.” She sniffed with offense. “Despite what you think, I’m not a total moron. But unlike you, I’m not strong enough to stand up to him and fight for my freedom, so I do what I must to survive.”
“So that’s what you’re doing then? Selling me out to save your own ass?” I nodded, bitterness rising in my throat like acid. “I’m not even really that surprised, Jules. Just... disappointed.”
This time she rolled her heavily made-up eyes back at me. “Oh cut the crap, Ry. As if your little affair with the gardener was really so important that it needed to be kept secret. Other than that, you’ve done nothing worth reporting back about, so what’s the big deal?”
I froze, thinking about my “little affair with the gardener.” What would Bloodeye do if he knew that I was already so involved with the princes? Which begged the question...
“How does he plan to force my hand, Jules?” I narrowed my eyes at her, feeling sick with the possibilities. “Bloodeye must know I won’t just fall into line that easily, so what’s he planning to do to force my compliance?”
Jules stared back at me for a long moment,before shaking her head. “I don’t know, Ry. But I’m scared for you.” Her words were softly spoken and sincere. “Maybe it’s best to just do what he wants, for now.”
“Maybe,” I murmured back, biting the inside of my cheek. She wasn’t wrong to be worried. Master Bloodeye hadn’t become the most formidable crime lord in Lakehaven without spilling his fair share of blood along the way. His methods of coercion were brutal and merciless, and no one in their right mind would want to be on the receiving end.
What made my guts twist with anxiety, though, was the fact that without meaning to, I’d been doing exactly what he wanted me to... and more. The princes were already mine, whether I wanted to admit it or not. All I needed to do to become the next Queen of Teich was survive.
Ducking my head to avoid her pleading stare, I rubbed my forehead. “Do you mind if I just head to bed? I’m exhausted, and I really think a long sleep would help.”
Jules nodded, waving a hand at the neatly made bed. “Of course, I’ll get an extra stretcher sent up for me later. Where have you been, anyway? And where did you get that dress? Not to mention, you’re totally healed... Last time I saw you, that dog thing had practically ripped you to shreds!” Her questions were spilling out in a rush, and I held up a hand to silence her.
“Can I sleep, please? I don’t know the answers to any of that.” I bit the inside of my cheek again as my birthmark tingled. Something wasn’t true about that statement, and it was like my mark was trying to remind me.
“Sure,” Jules agreed. “I’ll just, um, get dressed and get out of your hair.”
She riffled around in our bags as I crawled between the sheets of the bed, not even bothering to remove the
mysterious red dress. The fabric was soft and comfortable, so I saw no point in fucking around finding a nightgown.
Jules said something as she left the room, but sleep was already claiming me and I didn’t even hear the door click when she left. My last thought before I passed out was that my beautiful new Isenmedin knives that Ty bought me were gone.
12
I woke with a startled gasp, sitting upright in the canopied bed and blinking into the darkness.
What had just woken me? Was it a noise?
The curtains were open, showing me a bright, full moon. Jules was fast asleep on a stretcher beside the bed, her mouth open as she snored softly. The whole room was silent and still, yet my heart raced with fear.
Pushing the blankets down, I slipped out of the bed and winced as my bare feet touched cold floor tiles. Barely breathing for fear of waking Jules, I tiptoed to the window and looked out.
The street outside the inn was still, and I shook my head at my own paranoia. It had probably been a bad dream or something that had woken me.
I was just about to turn away and return to bed when movement in the shadows opposite the inn caught my attention. A woman stepped out into the light, and I sucked in a gasp. She was beautiful, almost painfully so, with black hair to her waist, streaked with white. Her pale blue, old-fashioned dress swirled around her legs from a breeze that touched nothing else in the street.
She stared up at me, her eyes locking on mine despite the fact that she shouldn’t have been able to see me at all. Yet I was positive she could and that she was the reason I’d woken so abruptly.
Slowly, she tilted her head, indicating for me to join her outside.
Common sense and self-preservation laughed inside me, scoffing at the idea that I’d sneak out in the middle of the night to meet with a creepy woman who seemed to glow with her own inner light. But that didn’t stop my feet from carrying me away from the window to the bedroom door, nor did it stop my fingers from silently sliding the bolt open or my body from slipping quietly out into the night.
This is madness, my better judgement berated me as I crept through the sleeping inn and out into the street where the woman waited. But I didn’t turn back.
“Who are you?” I asked as I drew closer to her. “What do you want from me?”
With each step I took, the her skin seemed to shine and glow more with an inner luminescence, like she was made of starlight. Her lips were an unnatural shade of red, and her smile lacked any warmth.
“Come,” she ordered me, her mouth barely moving and her too dark eyes drawing me in like a snake charmer. “Follow.”
Helpless to refuse, I did as she wanted, trailing after her as she glided through the streets and out of the town. Feeling an odd sense of calm with this stranger, I stayed silent as we entered the forest behind the small village. But she wasn’t a stranger, or at least, she didn’t seem like a stranger. Something about her felt... familiar. Like I’d known this woman my whole life.
“Where are we going?” I asked finally, after we’d walked some distance into the forest and I could hear the running water of a stream nearby. “You seem so familiar. Have we met before?”
The woman looked over her shoulder at me as she walked, grinning at me with those blood-red lips in her perfect face. “You could say that, Rybet Waise. Though never like this.”
“You know my name,” I commented, frowning slightly but not feeling the heart-pounding fear that I should have experienced, given my current imposter status. Someone else recently had known my name, too... but the memory slipped through my fingers before I could grab it fully.
“I know a whole lot more than just your name,” the woman replied with a laugh that made me gasp. Her laughter was like bells chiming or birds singing; it was both painfully beautiful and terrifying at the same time.
“Who are you?” I asked again, pausing as we reached the bank of a fast-running stream.
The beautiful woman didn’t pause, wading out until she reached the middle of the water before turning and holding a hand out to me, beckoning me closer.
Still moving in what seemed like a dreamlike state, I stepped into the ice-cold stream and approached her. My hand stretched out to take hers, and I barely even registered the freezing water swirling my dress around my legs.
“You know who I am,” she told me with a tinkling laugh, her dark eyes flashing, “I’ve been known by many names by many people over the years but you... you’ve always called me Aana.”
My fingers met hers, and I forgot to breathe for a moment. Pure, unfiltered magic leapt from her stonelike skin into me, rushing through me with an intensity that burned, then left so quickly the whole world tilted on its axis.
“Aana?” I whispered, dazed and confused. “The goddess of fortune?”
Her red lips widened into another unnerving grin. “The very same, Rybet Waise.” The way she said my name was mocking, like she knew something more and wasn’t in the mood to share it. It was exactly the same way that mysterious man had said it. The one who’d saved me from the fire.
“Why are you here?” The glow from her inner light had brightened to the point that I was squinting to see her now, but at the same time I couldn’t look away.
Through the brightness of her glow, I could still see her dark, terrifying eyes as she answered with that unnerving grin. “Silly little orphan girl, I’m here to kill you.”
With that, she used her grip on my hand to yank me off balance, plunging me face first into the frigid stream and tangling her fingers in my hair to hold me under.
Suddenly, the dreamlike haze that had made me follow this crazy bitch all the way out here in the middle of the damn night was ripped away, and I found myself thrashing against her grip. My lungs burned, begging for air as water invaded my nose, stinging my eyes and filling my ears so all I could hear was the rushing of the stream and my own muffled sounds of panic.
The fast-moving current had grabbed my dress, and the now soaked, heavy fabric was tugging and pulling at me, keeping me from finding my feet again. The only thing holding me in place instead of washing me down the stream was Aana’s hand in my hair, holding my head under the water and drowning me.
Aana. Goddess of fortune. My personal goddess, who I sent prayers to on a daily basis. How could this be happening? Why was this happening?
But those were questions for another day, if I lived to see another day.
On average, I knew that most people could hold their breath for around a minute, maybe two. I’d taught myself to go longer than that, but something told me Aana’s strength would outlast the oxygen in my lungs. I needed to free myself, fast.
Fighting against my own instincts, I stopped thrashing and trying to free myself from her grip as it was clearly not getting me anywhere. Instead I went limp, letting her think that she’d won while my fingers frantically searched the creek bed for anything that might help me hurt her.
To my frustration, she didn’t immediately release my head when I went limp. Instead she pushed me deeper until sharp stones bit into my cheek and blood swirled in the water.
Tightening my lips, I forced down the rising panic about my air supply and scrabbled under my face for the rock that had just cut me. I found it by slicing my fingers on the top of it, then curled my nails under the edges to try and pry it loose from the creek bed. The first couple of tries just resulted in broken nails and more scrapes, but on the third attempt it came free into my hand.
Time was up.
Reaching out, I swiped with the sharp rock in the rough direction of Aana’s legs, desperately hoping—but not praying—that I would hurt her just enough that she’d let go of my hair. I needed air. Badly.
My rock connected with something, and even through the rushing water, I heard a muted scream at the same time as the pressure on the back of my head disappeared. I popped back to the surface.
Sucking in huge lungfuls of oxygen, I thrashed around to find my feet and scramble away from the deranged goddess be
fore she could attempt to drown me again.
But I needn’t have worried.
“How is this possible?” Aana screeched, clutching at her leg where my rock had sliced her. Blue-black fluid seeped from the wound as she scrambled onto the bank of the creek and glared at me in horror—like I was the monster. Her beautiful face was contorted, her long hair floating around her like it had a life of its own, and her eyes had totally lost all semblance of humanity. Somehow I knew I was now seeing her as she really was, and she was quite clearly not human.
“This isn’t possible,” she snarled at me, “You can’t harm me; I’m a goddess and you, you’re nothing. You shouldn’t be able to hurt me!”
I tried to reply but needed to cough a few times before finding my voice. “If I’m nothing, then why did you just try to drown me?” It wasn’t just sass, I was genuinely confused. What the hell had I done to anger a goddess so much that she’d try to personally kill me?
Aana’s stunning features twisted into a disgusted sneer. “Because you’re an abomination. You should have been drowned at birth, and it was only Fate that kept you alive this long.” The way she stressed the word “Fate” I got the feeling she was talking about Sal, god of fate and destiny, rather than the more abstract concept.
Her gaze caught on something on my neck, and she curled her lip. “Typical. Looks like I’m not the only one who sensed your protection has worn off.” She snapped her dark eyes back to my face. “You should just let me drown you, Rybet Waise. It’s a much more merciful death than my sister would give you.”
I quickly wracked my brain of my god knowledge, then paled. “Nache?” The goddess of marriage was also known as the goddess of punishments and vengeance. “Why? What did I do to piss her off? Or any of you, for that matter! I sort of figured our gods were just idealistic concepts based off influential figures in history, not”—I waved a hand at the very real, very corporeal goddess on the opposite side of the creek from me—“whatever you are.”
“Like I said, you’re an abomination.” Her sneer showed off some scary-sharp teeth, and I shuddered to think I’d followed her so blindly. The sound of someone running through the forest reached us, and Aana scrambled to her feet with considerably less grace than she’d had while luring me from my bed. She gave the side of my neck another long stare, then narrowed her dark gaze at me. “This won’t be the last you see of me. Count on it.”
