Landen kissed my cheek. “I’ll get your medicine, tuck you into bed, and bring you breakfast.”
“Go have breakfast with your friends,” I ordered.
“It’s probably for the best. I’ll turn the lights out and make sure it’s quiet in here for you. Rest should help. I’ll ask Dr. Jameson to check in on you.”
How did he think I could rest when my head was about to shatter into a billion pieces? Still, I appreciated his effort. “Thanks.” I whispered.
He left.
I had no way of knowing how long he was gone. Every breath stretched into an eternity. The headache I couldn’t defeat drummed through me, the rest of my body joining in the revolt. By the time he returned, I wanted to crawl to the bathroom and drown myself to put an end to the misery.
He offered me a pair of tiny pills and a glass of water, and even swallowing added to my living hell.
It took his help to curl up beneath the blanket, and I hid my head under the pillow.
“It’ll be all right,” he promised.
I didn’t have the strength nor will to correct him. The sound of his footfalls drove spikes into my ears, and the click of the door closing tormented me.
Never again would I discount someone who complained about a migraine. I thought I’d suffered from a few in the past.
I’d been wrong.
All I could do was keep still with my eyes closed while hoping the misery would end soon. I tallied another score to the Nahua’s magic—no, their curse. They didn’t screw around, and at the rate I was going, I really would pay for stealing from them with my life.
Landen would pay in other ways, equally cruel.
No, even more cruel. I’d escape the pain when I died. When I died, he’d carry the weight of his guilt and grief.
He didn’t seem like the type to let go or move on.
Had I been a better person, I would’ve refused him. By listening to my traitor heart, I’d given us both false hope. I’d given us the illusion of a future the cinnabar would steal from us.
It took a long time for the painkillers to work their magic on me.
Landen hadn’t been joking about the painkillers; I had no memory of dressing or making it to a wood-paneled dining room, but someone had put a pile of awful, traumatizing food in front of me, and I wanted to beat them to death with the plate.
The uncooked corn tortillas deserved a special place in hell for its vile reek, leaving sauerkraut and beets vying for second place on my list of most hated.
Landen sat beside me, talking to William as though he wasn’t about to meet a bitter end for subjecting me to torture. Two women, one a gray-haired lady so old I was amazed she still lived, sat side by side at the far end of the table, listening to the men talk and whispering to each other.
I didn’t recognize the two men who sat across the table, although they listened to William and Landen with rapt interest. I suspected the women were their wives, although I wondered why they sat apart.
I’d deal with the oddity later, after I put an end to the horrors on the plate in front of me. “Landen.”
He glanced in my direction. “What is it, Summer?”
I pointed at the so-called food on my plate. “What the hell is this?”
Landen and William snickered, and they weren’t alone in their mirth; two other men and women laughed along with them. He got up, picked up the offensive dish, and kissed my cheek. “You can punish me later. It was our litmus test to confirm you’re thinking rationally.”
“Why would you do such an awful thing to me?” I pinched my nose. “Gross.”
Smiling, he strode to the door, spoke to someone on the other side, and handed over the plate. When he returned, he sat and slid his plate to me. An untouched steak and lobster tail demanded my immediate attention, and it still steamed. “You’ve been on auto-pilot for two days. Since you’re not wincing whenever someone breathes near you, I assume your head is feeling better?”
“It doesn’t hurt right now,” I replied. If I could go the rest of my life saying those words, I’d be grateful.
“Good. You eat while I talk.”
“But I’m stealing your dinner.”
“It’s your dinner, now. Eat, eat.”
“I’ve been warned you skip meals,” I retorted while my stomach complained I wasn’t already feeding it.
“Please eat, Summer.” Landen gestured to the older of the two men. “You likely don’t remember this, but yesterday, Peter helped with the first procedure. When it comes to unusual uses of earthweaving, he’s the best man I know for the job.”
Peter smiled, and I nodded to him. “Thank you.”
“More eating, less talking,” Landen ordered.
I considered flicking some of my rice at him as a childish rebellion, but I grabbed his fork and ate it instead.
Peter grinned and leaned back in his seat, and I realized they’d already eaten their dinner. Shooting I glare at Landen, I bumped his foot with mine. “You already ate. You were just guarding my real dinner.”
Everyone at the table laughed, and it was William who said, “He likes when you’re concerned for him. He’s turned it into a game for himself. You’ve been an easy target, drugged as you were.”
Payback would be sweet, and I’d make sure I enjoyed every minute of it. “Thank you, William. I’ll enjoy teaching him his manners.”
Landen sighed. “Thanks, William.”
“Before you two settle in for a spat,” Peter said, grinning at me with a twinkle in his blue eyes, “I’d like to be the first to say it’s a relief that there’s some hope for Alaska’s succession, especially considering the upheaval in the upper government. When the lad finally talks you into marrying him, I’ll hope you have nothing but girls so they might teach his kingdom a few lessons about the fairer sex.”
I wondered why Landen hadn’t notified Peter we were already married, but I kept quiet, taking a nibble of the lobster and shooting Landen a questioning look.
If Landen kept sighing, my guilt might get the better of me. Knowing me, I’d create a few extra scandals when I blurted the truth so he wouldn’t have to keep hiding it.
“Peter has opinions similar to yours,” my closet husband muttered.
“Hi, I’m Summer. If I had my way, I’d bury the bastards in stone and leave them there to rot, but I’m pretty sure that’s illegal.”
“We all consider it from time to time. The matter is mostly resolved, although there will be many long days at court for the next few weeks. Now that you’re reasonably coherent, we wanted to discuss a different matter—the issue of the jade necklace and its curse.”
I barked a laugh and pointed my fork at Landen. “See? Peter thinks it’s cursed, too.”
“I’m not denying there’s magic at play here, but I’m unwilling to say it’s a curse. Curses are not beneficial. Without that necklace, I wouldn’t have met you.”
I thought about that for a while, turning my attention to the obsidian bracelets wrapped around my wrists. I set my fork down and lifted my right hand and showed off the carvings. “The Nahua believed in fate. Did you know that?”
Everyone watched me in quiet interest, waiting for me to continue.
I pointed at the beginning of the Maya calendar. “I was born on July 26, the start of the Maya calendar. It’s an auspicious day, representing the height of life, birth, and renewal.”
Landen’s laughter startled me, and I gaped at him. “What’s so funny about my birthday?”
“I’m laughing because I hadn’t asked you what your birthday is.”
“Oh. Why’s that funny?”
Landen pulled out his wallet, extracted a card, and showed it to me.
It took me a moment to understand, and my eyes widened as I read the card. His birthday was July 26, and he was exactly five years older than me.
A chill swept through me, and I wondered at the significance of his birthday—and mine.
“I was not expecting that,” I spluttered.
<
br /> I didn’t want to believe our shared birthdate was anything more than a coincidence layered on top of the story of an ancient, lost culture and their approach to the great mystery that was life.
Peter cleared his throat. “Before we get too involved with this discussion, why don’t you show us the jade necklace? It might be useful for figuring out what sort of magic it has—and if there’s any relation to the cinnabar situation.”
I frowned. “Why would there be any relation to the cinnabar? It’s just high contamination in a bad location, isn’t it?”
The way the dining room stilled bothered me, promising some sort of dark, unpleasant secret would haunt me much like the Nahua woman did. “What’s going on?”
“With a little help from my wife, Edith, we were able to remove the cluster yesterday morning. Immediately after, you scanned clean of any sources of mercury. We did another scan in the evening. The mercury had returned, although it’d done so in much safer locations.”
“The cinnabar what?”
“You’re producing cinnabar and elemental mercury in your body. The elemental mercury is the largest concern, as it’s extremely dangerous, but from what we can tell from the scans, the mercury is encased in a layer of cinnabar, which is nullifying most of the hazard. The location, however, is the issue.”
I could make a few guesses. “My heart.”
Peter’s eyebrows shot up. “How did you know?”
“In Nevada, there is a temple. Inside, there is golden hallway instructing men how they might become gods to protect their cities from sacrifice. It is filled with cinnabar and mercury. That’s how I was poisoned. A part of the ritual involved sacrificing the man who would become a god and dipping his still-beating heart in powdered cinnabar—vermilion—and presenting it to the other gods. His rise to divinity would protect the city he ruled from future sacrifice of its people.”
Silence.
Peter frowned, his gaze sliding to Landen. “The necklace, if you’d please? As I was able to get a signature on the magic responsible for the production of cinnabar and elemental mercury, we might be able to learn more.”
Landen rose. “I’ll return shortly. Don’t let them talk you to death. Eat, Summer.”
I picked up my fork and knife and took another bite to appease him.
The instant Landen left, the women rose and flanked me, the young brunette stealing Landen’s seat.
“I’m Edith,” the old woman announced, holding out her hand.
I shook with her, and realization dawned on me.
They hadn’t separated themselves out of some old-fashioned hierarchy. They’d been preparing for an interrogation: mine.
Crap.
Nothing was more dangerous than a pair of hens ready to start pecking at the interesting new girl on the block. Men often terrified me, but gangs of women on the hunt was enough to send me straight up a tree like a scared cat.
“A pleasure to meet you,” I replied, uncertain if I told a lie or not.
William snickered, and I flipped my middle finger at the man capable of determining the truth from the lies.
The predatory interest wasn’t restricted to the women, either. I sighed. “You’re about to interrogate me, aren’t you?”
Peter grinned. “It’s so nice when we don’t have to explain this. It’ll take His Majesty at least twenty minutes to retrieve the necklace out of his vault. He’s had it under lock and key since its partner disappeared from Mexico. He’s determined to keep it safe. The young lady beside you is Belinda, and she’s Edmund’s wife. Edmund is William’s cousin.”
“The better of the two,” Edmund said, flashing me a smile.
Edmund was no match for William, and while William was as handsome as they got, the simple truth made me happy. As far as I was concerned, neither would ever be a match for Landen.
“He likes to gloat because it drives me insane,” William muttered.
“I like to gloat because you’re married now, which means there’s no chance of me inheriting Montana. May you have many sons to go along with your daughter.” Edmund’s smile widened to a grin. “Ask Belinda. I threw a party when it was announced you were finally getting married. That you’re already hard at work filling the royal nursery is a cause for celebration.”
Both women snickered, and Edith leaned towards me and whispered, “William’s family is known for having many children, and the royal family’s talent is passed down only to the men, so a male heir is critical. However, the firstborn child of each line is usually a girl. No one knows why this is, but we expect their next child to be a daughter as well. The third will likely be their first son. After, they’ll be blessed with many more daughters before another boy comes along.”
“Just how many children are they going to have?”
“Well, William is one of seventeen.”
“Seventeen?” I squealed.
William sighed. “I don’t know what you’re telling her, Edith, but please don’t give her the wrong impression. Please. I’m already in the doghouse with Mackenzie. We’re not going to have seventeen children. Not if I want to live to die from an old age rather than being bludgeoned by my wife.”
“You’re in the doghouse with Mackenzie because she’s in Montana with your daughter handling the other end of this nasty business and won’t be flying in for at least a week. You’re also in the doghouse because she’s pregnant. I really wish you well, William,” Edith replied.
I assumed the nasty business involved the sexual assault and rape cases, which decided me. I’d rather talk about Montana’s cranky and pregnant queen. “If you’re not going to have seventeen, how many will you have? Have you made plans? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“I’m aiming for as many as possible. My daughter has talked herself up to wanting nine siblings, and Mackenzie throws things whenever we bring the subject up—or makes a run for it. She’d warned me she gets flighty at eight weeks. I don’t envy her security detail. It’s for the better. According to my daughter, I need the exercise.”
I wondered if I’d be able to have a family like his. If I took his words at face value, I would’ve believed he complained, but William beamed at the mere mention of his wife and child, and I heard nothing in his voice but happiness.
“Were you born five years before she was?”
William laughed. “However much I’d love to believe fate played a role in us being together, she’s older than me—and she did the truly hard work. I just waited, watched, and held my breath. I think her real talent is how she can make so many people love her and want to help her, but she’s utterly blind to it. She can’t believe, not for an instant, that her hard work and tenacity has earned her so much respect. People like helping her because she doesn’t ever want to ask for help. No, fate didn’t have anything to do with it. A lot of love and sacrifice did.”
“Don’t let him trick you,” Edmund stated, his tone allowing no argument. “While he watched and waited, he meddled as often as possible.”
“Anyway, this isn’t about me. I’m happily married. This is about finding a solution to Summer’s problem so she can be happily married to Landen.”
Edith giggled. “William is a firm supporter of you marrying Landen, and he’s very determined. As he can’t easily meddle in his wife’s affairs anymore, he’s menacing other kingdoms now. Don’t let William trick you. He’s a fixer. He’s happiest when he’s making problems go away, which is a good thing, as that’s his job.”
“I’m not going to get away with anything today, am I?”
“No, you’re not,” everyone at the table chorused, except for me. I was trying to come to terms with everything I’d been told.
As Edmund was William’s cousin, he likely wasn’t a king, which relieved me. That left Peter, who treated William and Landen as equals. The lack of titles led me to believe he was a king, too. But of which kingdom?
The only way to find out was to ask. “Which kingdom do you rule, Peter?”
�
�You really have no political background, do you?”
“I haven’t needed a political background. I dig in the dirt for a living. I’m a historian, and I prefer to do my historic research on site. You’re still alive, so honestly, you’re not that interesting. If you die, however, I might want to figure out who you were, what you did in your life, and use your possessions to puzzle together your life’s story.”
“Canada. I rule Canada.”
I was sharing the same room with an earthweaver so strong he could flatten mountains if he wanted. My mouth dropped open, and I gaped at him.
“Trust me on this one, you don’t want my talent,” Peter said, his tone wry. “I was the one who loaned the suppressors they used on you for your initial operation. I have a full set on order, but it’ll take a few weeks for them to be made. You’re fortunate; our talents work in similar fashions, so you can use the same ones I use. Your talent, however, is far more specialized and fine-tuned than mine. It’s been a pleasure to watch you. I can’t wait to see what you can do when you’re actually coherent. Your level of control is superb. Edith’s strong, and her finesse is top-notch, but I’m not sure she could beat you.”
“I couldn’t,” Edith confirmed. “And my workings are not nearly as long-lasting as hers. I’ve been outclassed and outgunned. I’m cheerfully accepting my defeat. It’s the difference between having the talent and having the talent and working hard to hone it. You’ve worked very hard honing your talent, Summer. You should be proud of yourself.”
“I only have a mid-grade talent.”
“You have a lot of people lying to you about your talent rating. No, you don’t have a mid-grade talent,” Peter said, his tone hardening. “I consider myself an authority on earthweaving talents, and there’s nothing mid-grade about your talent at all. Frankly, I’ve a mind to press charges against your evaluators. Falsifying a talent evaluation can be extremely dangerous, especially with a talent like yours. You could easily kill someone. Talent ratings aren’t just for rank. It’s for the protection of yourself and others. Someone of your talent rating has obligations to the public—and yourself—to control your talent. You’re also entitled to access to the suppressors that can help keep an out-of-control talent contained. Most royals own at least one set of suppressor bracelets, meant to be worn when sick or in stressful situations. I have a set of five, which dampens most of my talent. It took three of my suppressors to contain yours.”
The Captive King Page 22
