by JD Monroe
“I’m going to ignore the part where you gave me a used knife, because that is incredibly unsanitary.” Tarek grinned, etching pleasant creases around his warm eyes. Mirth was a good look on him. Well, everything was a good look on him, but the rare smile sent a thrill of delight through her. “If this other queen is attacking you, why would she come here?”
“Unless she wishes to openly declare war, she must grant an audience when requested,” Tarek said. “It would be very rude and dishonorable otherwise.”
Gabby snorted. “Because apparently trying to murder the princess is so polite and honorable?”
“We have our ways,” Tarek said. “Halmerah will demand her presence immediately. We will have an answer one way or the other soon.”
“So what do I do in the meantime?”
He shrugged. “The queen’s councilors will probably wish to speak to you. Otherwise, you are free to do as you wish. If you would allow me, I would show you around. And of course, I will protect you from harm.”
His eyes fell on hers. She felt trapped in his gaze, but she didn’t want to be free of that trap. Gabrielle Rojas was an independent woman, dammit, but right then, she would let him protect her against anything. Without breaking her gaze, he raised her hand to his lips and kissed her fingertips lightly. A shock shot down her arm and straight to her spine. She tried not to gasp in surprise.
“Tarek,” a woman said. Gabby snapped to attention to see the servant woman holding out a beautiful pendant in one hand and a roll of paper in the other. The pendant was a polished purple stone, wrapped in silver wire and hanging from a delicate chain. The stone twisted slowly on its chain as the woman held it out.
“It’s for you,” he said. He took the necklace in one hand, then brushed her hair over her shoulder. A shiver broke across her skin as his fingers grazed her neck and fastened the pendant. It was pleasantly warm against her chest. She turned to see Tarek giving her a curious look. “Do you understand me now?”
“Of course I understand you,” she said.
“It is a great pleasure to meet you, Gabrielle,” the woman said. “My name is Raszila. I serve the queen and her guests.”
Gabby frowned. Was she…
“It’s the amulet,” Tarek said. He touched the amulet gently. “As long as you wear it, you will be able to understand the tongue of the Kadirai.”
“And I’m…”
“You’re speaking it,” he said, his lips quirking into a smile.
She touched the amulet, stunned in wonder. “Is this…magic?”
“No more magical than your iPhone.”
“And the paper you requested,” Raszila said, handing it over. Tarek accepted it, then waited for the women to draw a crude pencil from her apron. “I can find a nicer pen if you’d like, but you asked for it quickly.”
Tarek glanced at Gabby. “This is fine,” she said. “Thank you.”
Gabby took the paper, a piece of thick ivory parchment, and the pencil. After glancing around, she sat on the cool stone of the balcony and used the flat surface to write on. “Oh, Miss Gabrielle, please come in and sit where it is comfortable,” Raszila said, wringing her hands.
“I’m fine, thank you,” Gabby said. She took several minutes to write precise instructions. One of the neurosurgeons had a cabin in the Colorado mountains and was always offering to let the other physicians use it for vacations. That would be her story. After writing down the passcode to her phone and describing exactly what kind of charger to buy, she wrote several text messages to send to her mother, including a few key Spanish phrases that her mother would use and expect a response to. Drawing a line to divide the carefully labeled Mama section, she wrote the names of her key contacts at the hospital. After examining her list, she realized it seemed woefully small. She had a few friends, but no one that would be frantically worried if she didn’t contact them for a few days. Work was her life, with family a close second. It was a bit sad. Finally, she looked up at Tarek. “Here are my instructions.”
He scanned it over and gave her a bemused look. “You are very thorough.”
“I want you to get this right,” she said primly. “Will it hurt my mother at all?”
He shook his head. “It is no more than a gentle suggestion. It will simply put her worries at ease.”
“Okay. Then have your guys do this,” she said. “And tell them to be nice to her. If they do anything—”
He laughed and took her hand. “Gabrielle, they will not do anything to harm her. You have my word.” His eyes bored into her as she considered the value of what he promised. Thus far, he had been a man of his word. Finally, she nodded.
Raszila made a clucking noise with her tongue. “Now, will you please leave us? You have your job, and I have mine. I would see that our guest is taken care of.”
“I will be back to check on you,” Tarek said. Raszila rolled her eyes and planted her hands on his bare back, pushing him gently toward the door. For a second, Gabby was terribly envious of the woman getting a handful of those muscles.
“Don’t rush. After I take care of her, she will not need you,” Raszila said. Tarek laughed as he went. She shooed him and closed the door behind him.
Gabby watched him go with regret lingering in her mind. After he had left, Raszila turned back to her. The beautiful woman was about Gabby’s height, but slight of frame. She was much smaller than the Kadirai that Gabby had seen, which made her wonder if Raszila was human. “Now, where were we?”
The woman ushered her to the corner of the room, where a large silver-ornamented tub stood inside long drapes of blue silk. The pleasant warmth of steam reached Gabby even from a few feet away. As she approached the tub, she realized just how long it had been since she’d gotten a chance to relax and shower. Her gym clothes could probably stand up on their own, especially after the adrenaline-soaked flight from the Gate to the fortress and the subsequent unpleasant visit to the dungeons.
The warm touch of Raszila’s hands on her hips startled her from her reverie. Gabby instinctively covered the woman’s hands, keeping the hem of her shirt down. The servant looked at her, surprised. “I can do it,” Gabby insisted.
“But the Queen insists,” Raszila said.
“She said you have to undress me?”
“She said you were to be treated as royalty,” Raszila huffed. “She will be displeased.”
“It’s okay. I promise I won’t tell her.”
Raszila sighed, then waved her hand in a go ahead gesture. Gabby carefully peeled the sweat-sticky shirt over her head, then hesitated with the clasps of the sports bra covering her chest. She jumped a little at the warm touch of fingers on her shoulder. Raszila fingered the elastic material, pinching it and stretching it out with an expression of wonder on her face. She was unfazed by the magical amulet that translated languages, but apparently spandex was a miracle.
“Can you close your eyes?”
“Your body will not surprise me,” Raszila said.
“It’s not you,” Gabby said. “I don’t like being naked in front of people.”
Raszila raised an eyebrow. “Very strange, your kind.” She shrugged and made a point of closing her eyes. Gabby quickly shucked off her pants, hesitating before she sent her underwear with them. After checking that Raszila still had her eyes closed, Gabby carefully lifted one foot over the stone ledge and into the warm water. It was pleasantly warm and effervescent. She slowly crouched into the tub. When she was in the water up to her chest, she said, “I’m in.”
Raszila sighed and made a clucking sound with her tongue. “Will you allow me to do nothing?” She bustled around the tub and returned with several glass jars clutched to her breast. After perusing them, she opened one and released a wave of delicious, earthy-smelling scent. “May I at least clean your hair?”
“Yes,” Gabby said. Her body tensed as the woman approached, but when the first wave of warm water poured over her scalp and down her neck, she relaxed. It was like having her hair done at the salon
, except instead of a hairdresser, she had someone who worked for a dragon queen. Close enough.
The other woman’s fingers gently massaged her scalp. With the wonderful, tingling sensation radiating from her touch, the tension flowed out of Gabby’s muscles, and she leaned back against the stone ledge. The scent of spice filled her nostrils as Raszila massaged the shampoo into her hair. Her scalp tingled with the cool sensation. As she worked, Raszila hummed a song under her breath.
“Are you a dragon?” Gabby asked.
“No,” Raszila said. She poured more water over Gabby’s hair, and then began combing it gently.
“What are you? I’m sorry, is that rude?”
Raszila chuckled, her hands shaking with the laughter as she combed through Gabby’s hair. “I am Edra.”
“What is that?”
“Oh, of course. You are an outsider,” Raszila said, still combing gently. “The Kadirai are dragons. There are others who have an animal spirit. They call us Edra.”
“So you’re like a werewolf?”
“A…”
“Shapeshifter?”
“Shape…shifter,” Raszila said. “Yes. I can change shapes. I was born with the spirit of the lark.”
“So are there lots of Edra?” Gabby said.
“Oh yes,” Raszila said. “Many more than the Kadirai, although there are not many here in Adamantine Rise. It is a great honor to serve the queen. Most of the Edra live in Farath, the city below.”
Finally, Raszila finished combing, twisted the wet tresses, and pinned them in place on top of Gabby’s head. Something pleasantly rough, like an exfoliating sponge touched Gabby’s shoulder. “Do you mind?”
Gabby’s inhibitions were rapidly eroding. The warm water and the luxurious smell had sapped all the tension out of her. “No,” she murmured dreamily.
Raszila continued to hum quietly as she scrubbed Gabby’s back and shoulders. The sponge dipped over her shoulder, brushing across the top of her breast. After a pause, she held out the sponge. “Unless you would like me to. As royalty.”
“I can handle it,” Gabby said. She took the sponge and finished washing herself, then handed it back.
“Sit,” Raszila said, patting the edge of the tub.
Along one corner of the stone basin was a smoothly curved seat. Gabby sat on the edge, crossing her arms over her breasts.
There was a hint of warmth at the nape of her neck, and then a heat that sank from her skin into her bones. Raszila rubbed an ointment that smelled of mint and eucalyptus into her skin, working her nimble fingers into the tight muscles. Gabby groaned in pleasure as the woman massaged her shoulders. For a moment, she allowed herself the fantasy of Tarek doing this work instead, of his strong hands working down her back and caressing her warm skin. A twinge of heat bloomed at her center, and she felt herself blush furiously as she crossed her legs.
“Are you all right?” Raszila asked. “Have I hurt you?”
“Not at all,” Gabby said quickly. The woman continued her massage, working down the muscles in each arm, then kneading the knots out of her back. After a few minutes that seemed way too short, Raszila brought her a light dressing gown and helped her out of the tub. The servant woman led her to a low seat with a pile of plump cushions. Once Gabby sat down, Raszila knelt at her feet. With the jar of glittering green ointment, the woman turned her attention to Gabby’s feet. The pressure verged on painful, but left a pleasant tingle in its wake. She could definitely get used to the royal treatment.
Raszila glanced up at her, her eyes playful under thick lashes. “I will assume that you would not care for any further relaxation or release.”
“Uh, huh?”
The woman chuckled. “Never mind,” she said, laughing to herself. After she continued her massage up to the knees, she rearranged the dressing gown over Gabby’s legs and stood up. “Are you hungry?”
“Very,” Gabby said. She’d managed to forget about eating but just hearing the question had reminded her stomach of how empty it was.
“I will see to it. And I am certain you will be pleased.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
After leaving Gabrielle in Raszila’s capable hands, Tarek wandered the familiar stone corridors of Adamantine Rise. He’d always hated to admit to weakness, but stubbornness would not heal the damage wrought upon his body by the battles of the last few days. And a visit to the healers’ pavilion among the Bones would let him check on the princess.
Little had changed in Adamantine Rise since he had left some ten years earlier, but his former home now felt distant and strange. The cool stone under his bare feet, the scent of incense in the air, and the faint tingle of magic in the air were foreign to him. He found himself longing for the familiarity of the human world: the unrelenting desert sun, the reliable morning bite of black coffee, and of all things, Gabrielle. Though he’d known her for barely a day, he felt connected to her, like he’d known her for years.
He’d been shocked at the ferocity of his rage when saw her in the stinking depths of the dungeon, and equally shocked at his pride and vindication upon seeing Queen Halmerah order her release and honor her as a guest. Those intense emotions, the warmth that stirred in him at the thought of her, reminded him of a life that was so long ago it almost seemed like a dream. He didn’t dare acknowledge the thoughts that swirled in his mind, the ones that spoke of a bond more than the temporary one born out of danger and necessity. Down that road lay too much potential for loss and pain. It would be far wiser for him to keep his distance, especially with another war with the Ironflight brewing. Distance would let him focus, and she would be safer without his attention and cursed nature on her.
Tarek descended a spiraling staircase into the cool green expanse of the gardens. Just entering the powerful circle formed by the Bones brought a shift in the atmosphere. There was a weight in the air, a crackling energy that tickled his bare skin. The injuries all over his body suddenly eased, the sensation muffled to a dull ache.
Smooth stone paths cut through the gardens. Several of the Kadirai along the way greeted him, but no one lingered for a conversation. There was a quiet tension in the air, no doubt because of the news of the attack on the princess. And those who had gathered in the garden were there to meditate and find solace in the soothing energy there, not to gossip.
In the northeast corner of the garden, the stone path sloped upward to the healer’s pavilion. Armed guards were posted on either side of the steps. Though he didn’t speak, the guards gave him a nod of recognition and allowed him to enter.
Inside the pavilion, a ring of beds draped in pale linens surrounded one of the Bones. Silver veins ran down the stone pillar and across the floor like tree roots. At the far side of the pavilion, a crowd surrounded one of the beds. Even from far away, he immediately recognized Halmerah’s tall silhouette among them.
A healer dressed in light gray clothing and plain silver jewelry approached him. Fine gray and silver gleamed within her braid, though age had only touched her kindly face with the faintest creases at the corners of her dark blue eyes. After looking him over, she said quietly, “Come with me.”
“Will you tell the queen that Tarek Windstriker is here?”
“Of course,” she said. Without question, Tarek followed her to an open bed. Her hands were warm as she untied the leather garment covering him. Taking a step back, she examined him with the practiced eye of a professional and paid no more attention to his nakedness than she would have a speck of dust. After briefly prodding at the worst of his injuries, she gestured for him to sit. “I’ll be back,” she told him before retreating to a storeroom to gather supplies. He watched her head bob as she walked down a spiraling staircase to the underground storage below the pavilion.
He had just turned back to let himself relax into the soft comfort of the bed when he heard the gentle swish of fabric on stone. As his gaze swept up from the shapely legs to the queen’s haughty visage, he leapt off the bed to find a chair. The queen waved him off.
“I can fetch my own chair, you fool of a dragon,” she said. Her tone was an attempt at being playful, but worry drained the humor from her rich voice.
“As you wish, su’ud redahn,” he said. Her dismissal was for the best, since the quick motion had set his head spinning like a tornado. He fixed his gaze on Halmerah to steady himself and plopped back onto the bed.
Halmerah raised her eyebrows at the honorific, then looked around the niche surrounding the bed. She found a low stool by the next bed and hooked it with her foot to pull it closer. With her legs neatly folded and her posture ramrod straight, she made the rough-hewn wooden stool look like a throne. She had changed out of her silken finery from earlier and into a plainer robe-like dress that crossed over her chest and tied with a wide silver sash.
The healer returned and gasped in surprise. “Su’ud redahn,” she breathed. “Allow me to get you something more appropriate to sit upon.”
“Nonsense,” Halmerah said sharply. “Please inform me if I am any hindrance to your work.”
The healer gaped, her gaze flitting between Tarek and the queen for several seconds. “I—yes, of course,” she said. Her gaze remained on the queen as she laid out several stoneware jars and a bundle of clean rags on a wooden tray.
The healer was silent as she opened a small blue jar and scooped out a handful of its contents. Tarek gasped in surprise at the cold, jelly-like substance she spread across his shoulder. While her touch was gentle, it was clinical and detached. He couldn’t help thinking of Gabrielle and the way she had responded to his discomfort by peeling off her glove and caressing his skin, making contact and providing more comfort than she’d realized.
Halmerah ignored the healer and Tarek’s sound of surprise. “My daughter has not woken despite being here among the Bones for hours,” she said flatly. “What happened over there?”
