Chronicles of Pelenor Trilogy Collection
Page 73
“Thank you,” she said as they hurried down the vaulted corridor.
“You’re welcome,” he said evenly. “Khyrion’s not a man I’d want to be any closer to than necessary, either.”
Harper shuddered.
Dimitri scowled. “Quite.”
Eighteen
At the boundary of the Order vaults, he held Harper close and spirited her back to his home and the middle of the library, as if he knew that would be where she felt most at ease.
With a sigh of relief, the tension slipped from her body. She unclasped the scratchy, woollen cloak from her shoulders and, with a glare of disgust, tossed it onto the coat stand by the door.
Dimitri stalked to the huge, open fireplace and knelt before the stone hearth to arrange some kindling and wood, before lighting it with a flick of his hand.
Harper drew closer to the bright, warm glow, feeling the heat on her hands and the light upon her face. Weak, winter sunshine filtered in through the tall windows behind them, but it felt like she had woken at night, so dark was it in the Order’s lair.
After a small repast and drink, brought by Emyria, who attended them in reserved silence and melted away to her other duties once more, Harper recounted her time with Khyrion, at Dimitri’s request.
When she had finished, Dimitri uncrossed his legs and leaned toward her.
“You did well. It won’t be pleasant, and I’m sorry about that, but the skills you learn will have some value. You can use them for good, not vice.”
“How often do they have you test your magic on living things?” she whispered, hardly daring to ask.
Dimitri’s lips pursed. “More often than you’d like, yet less often than they could. A blessing if there is any. I hope you won’t be there to get into any of the serious business.”
It hung unspoken between them. Would they escape soon? Somehow defeat Saradon? It seemed untenable, impossible from where they both sat. At the shared thought, their gazes dropped.
Dimitri cleared his throat.
“What now?” Harper asked.
He stood and offered her his hand. She slipped her fingers into his palm, and he helped her to her feet. “Now, Miss Harper of Caledan,” he said with a small smile, “it is time for me to teach you.
“First, we’ll dance. I’ll teach you the simplest of court dances. Then we’ll eat, but with a full setting, the likes of which you’ll see at a royal banquet. Afterward...” He shrugged. “We’ll see.”
Harper cocked her head at that, but his face revealed nothing.
“Come. This way.”
He led her to a room where furniture and rugs had been moved aside, the middle of the space clear. She stepped into the room hesitantly and awkwardly, eyeing the wood panelling, the tall, thin windows, and the ornate, carved ceiling with a chandelier hanging from its centre. Bare of almost anything else, it felt huge, only making her feel more vulnerable, exposed, and self-conscious.
A scented fire already burned in the grate, banishing the chill of the unused space and infusing the room with the scent of lavender and citrus. Harper took a deep breath, appreciating the freshness. It was as close to a natural smell as she had experienced all day, and it at last banished the damp, earthy decay of the vaults, the pungent musk of the rat...and Khyrion.
Music from an invisible source crescendoed until it filled the room. Harper whirled on Dimitri, who smiled.
“It always helps to have something to dance to.”
The music rolled around them, instruments Harper had never heard before, delicate and lilting but filled with heart and fire. It called to her in a way nothing else had, and she swayed from one foot to the other before she caught herself moving in time to the tune.
“How are you doing that?”
He rolled his eyes. “Magic, quite obviously. Maybe I’ll teach you one day.” If we ever get out of here.
He offered her his hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, she took it. Dimitri slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her close so their fronts almost touched, but not quite. He stood tall, poised and graceful, and Harper drew herself up, too.
“Good. Just like that. Chin a little higher. Look over my shoulder as if you admire the horizon. Feet shoulder width apart. We lead with your right. This is a simple three-step you shall pick up quickly. Off we go.”
He led her through the steps. She stumbled at first, struggling to move herself how he wanted, but he was patient and went slowly. At last, she picked up the repeating movements. He quickened the pace until she could keep up at tempo. Around the room they whirled until they were both flushed and smiling from the lively tune. She had quite forgotten where she was.
For a few precious moments, the insidious, nervous charge of fear she had held all day released, and the exhilarating fluidity of their movements seized her with giddy abandon. Their wide grins and glint of life in their eyes were free of any shadows. They were no more than two souls twining together. If she could have, Harper would have stayed in that moment, free from any cares, the tremor of attraction sparking at their closeness.
At last, Dimitri stepped back, released her, and bowed. With his movement, the happy rush in her dwindled, and the edge of fear crept back as reality seeped in.
“Wonderful. Remember that, and you’ll get out of most awkward situations in a ballroom.”
She curtseyed, making him raise his eyebrows. “Oh my. I really need to teach you how to do that properly.”
Harper shot him a glare, which he ignored.
“Leg crossed behind... Yes, like that.” He stifled a smile as she wobbled. “Now dip... No, don’t bend forward at the waist like that. You’re not bowing. Keep your weight over... Yes, exactly. Good. Lower... Steady... Lower... Now hold...hold...hold. And up.”
She wobbled once more.
He clamped his lips shut, but a chuckle escaped nonetheless. “Well. Practise will make perfect.”
She scowled at him, but he only flourished his hands out to his sides and gave her a perfect curtsey that had her in a fit of laughter at the ridiculousness of him holding invisible skirts.
“Hey, don’t mock me. Laugh at me when your curtsy is better than mine, princess.”
She made a rude gesture at him, but he only swept forward to capture her hand in his and met her gaze with his glittering eyes and wide smile, sweeping her into another dance across the smooth floor.
“This one is meant to be done with many other partners, so it will be a little harder to teach, but I’ll do my level best.”
He led her through a complicated series of steps as they circled and met, circled and parted, stepped around dancers who were not there to bow and curtsey and meet again, until Harper was dizzy with his never-ending instructions.
“All right. Let’s stop there for today,” Dimitri said as they rose from a final bow and curtsey. “I don’t know about you, but I could eat a dragon.”
Harper’s stomach rumbled in response, and Dimitri chuckled. Slowly, he let her hands fall, but did not let go.
“Come.”
He tugged her closer, and a moment later, they stood in the dining room. Harper stumbled into him, caught off balance by the sudden movement, the strange tugging sensation, and the flash of darkness before light once more.
Dimitri caught her, his hands firm on her shoulders, his chest warm against her, his chin atop her head protective and safe.
“Warn me next time,” she said through gritted teeth, blinking away the rush of dizziness and swoop in her belly.
“Of course.” He smirked.
Her chair scraped out of its own accord, and he helped her settle into it, before pushing her in and taking the seat next to her. As he sat, their knees brushed together. Harper flushed as he pulled in his chair.
Too close for comfort.
“Now we eat. This will be more formal than you’re used to. I have to show you everything. Do they not have forks in Caledan?”
She raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. He’d clearly insulted her,
but she did not know how.
“Right.” He directed her attention to the mass of cutlery set around the empty plates before her and proceeded to explain what each one was for and when she ought to use them. “This funny little thing is used for snails, but if you ask me, I wouldn’t bother. They taste about as nice as a dragon’s backside.”
“Like you’d know?”
He leaned closer and grinned at her with a sidelong glance. “I might.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m starving. Can we eat?”
“All right. But only if you can tell me which fork and knife to use first.”
She scrunched her face and examined the array before her, finally pointing to two implements.
“Good,” said Dimitri, almost begrudgingly. He rang a bell. A servant Harper did not recognise–a short, slim man with a kind, weathered face and a tangle of dark hair–entered balancing trays of food, which he laid out in short order across the table before departing with a bow.
“Now, which ought to be the first course?”
Harper groaned as she scanned the array of dishes on the table. This was already too difficult to remember.
HARPER’S DAYS SETTLED into a sickly balance of Order indoctrination in the mornings and early afternoons, avoiding as much of Khyrion’s scrutiny as possible, and a respite with Dimitri from mid-afternoon onward when he schooled her in the courtly arts, from etiquette to ancestry, before great, sprawling maps that illustrated the family trees of all the intermingled noble Houses.
Each night, she read Order textbooks until her eyes hurt too much to continue, but her reignited passion for reading soon helped her decipher the complex instructions of the Order classes.
She hated the sessions with Khyrion, filled with dark arts and magic that left an unwelcome, metallic tang in her mouth, along with nausea and a foggy head that took hours to shift. Every day, it felt like he drew her into the void, then Dimitri drew her out, away from the taint that felt like it slowly crept through her, staining her black. Like she had been drawn from the choking smoke of a fire to the cool, safe, shadowed dark of night.
The week passed quickly, and she found herself longing for the fresh air of the forests and mountains–the world outside Tournai’s gates. It felt like another world, for inside the stone city there was nothing but people, noise, and pollution upon the air. Nowhere could she find the open space of the woodlands, the song of free birds, and the sweet, fresh air she craved that carried freedom upon it, not smoke.
Dimitri found her in the library, half-leaning out of the window, dreaming of freedom, trying to catch the glare of natural sunshine and the caress of a breeze on her face. Her defence lessons with Khyrion that day had not been overly strenuous. She had already practised mental shields abundantly, to the Grandmaster’s surprise. Yet she longed for a breath of freedom. She still, to Khyrion’s frustration, remained untempted by the allure of his dark power.
Dimitri beheld her. “What on earth are you doing?”
“I need to get out of here.”
“There’s a door to the courtyard in the—”
“No, not here. I mean here...” She gestured outside. “The city.”
He nodded gravely.
She leaned on the windowsill, resting her chin in her hands glumly. “I know. We can’t.”
Dimitri moved to stand behind her and peered out of the window.
“We can, for a short time,” he said softly. “We won’t be missed. I’ve attended to all my day’s business, as have you. We can slip away for a little while... We just have to return.”
She stood and turned to him, surprised to find him standing so close. “You mean it?” she asked, eyes wide.
He looked down at her and smiled, seeming tired and hollow-eyed for once. “Yes. I admit, I think I’d like that, too.” He raised an eyebrow–an invitation.
Harper nodded, and with a momentary widening of his smile, he wrapped an arm around her and spirited them both away.
FOR A MOMENT, THE WOODS were silent, quiet after the cacophony of the city. Harper stood, crumpled into Dimitri’s chest, enjoying the silence around her for a moment, the safe feeling of his arms surrounding her before they lowered and she stepped away.
Trees and tangled fauna stretched out before them in all directions as far as the eye could see. A slight breeze rustled the leafless trees, and Harper shivered. Neither had a cloak, but Dimitri quickly shrouded them in a pocket of warm air.
Birdsong and the distant rustle of animals in the underbrush carried on the wind. Harper felt a mixture of relief and dissatisfaction. She longed for green, lush woods, bursting with life, not the sparse, monotone trees of winter. Somehow, she had forgotten what season it was. The woods did not thrum with life, but slumbered, as did her soul inside the confining walls of Tournai.
“Are you all right?” Dimitri murmured.
Harper straightened her slumped shoulders. “Yes. Sorry.” She looked around with fresh eyes. Space. No walls. No people. A broad sky above her. Away from the confines of the vaults where the air was thick with smoke, damp–and worse. Relief settled on her then.
Slowly, she turned, taking in their surroundings. The columns of wood rising into the sky. Branches outspread, empty fingers stretching out. The bright red winter berries and some evergreen foliage the only colour in an otherwise dowdy landscape. Until she turned to him. Warm skin. Violet eyes watching her impassively. His black tunic that held a sheen of midnight blue.
Something in her fluttered.
“Will you teach me that?” she asked, hoping he would agree.
He knew what she meant. He did not answer.
“Please. Don’t make me beg. The Order is already teaching me terrible things, but this can be used for good. If nothing else than to just get outside, pretend to be free for a while.” She spread her arms for a moment at their surroundings before letting them fall.
He stared at her for a long moment, before nodding sharply. “Fine. I’ll try. You might not be able to master it, but I will try.”
FOR A SECOND, THE GRIN on her face brought her steel eyes to life, the flush across her cheeks banishing the sallow paleness she had developed over the past weeks from spending too much time indoors, underground. He smiled in response, happy to see her happy.
“Come here then.” He reached out a hand. “First, I’ll need to do it with you, alongside you, until you get the feel of it. Then you can try yourself.”
She drifted closer, her crinkled brow and pursed lips a sign of her curiosity, and he slipped his fingers through hers. “If I may?”
Harper nodded, her attention fixed upon him so that the woods around them seemed to fall away. He pulled her to him, spinning her around. One hand slid across the silken fabric covering her stomach, sealing her body to his. He did not miss her gasp, or the way she stiffened and then softened into him. His other arm locked around her chest, pinning her arms to her sides. For a moment, a rush of something unexpected passed through him before he staved it off.
Desire.
It had been a while since he had sated his. Nothing more than lust, he chided himself, though it did not still the quiver inside him. Resisting the urge to hold her tighter, he cleared his throat.
He bent low, his nose burying into her loose hair as he spoke into her ear. “You can feel the magic, yes?” His breath tickled her skin as she tilted her neck to him.
“Yes,” she whispered.
Did she feel the same? Dimitri closed his eyes for a moment.
This way madness lies.
Perhaps it would be amusing...for a while. Perhaps she craved the same release and escape he did. Perhaps together, they could find solace and respite. Yet he had never found a lover who stayed. One who wanted him for himself, nothing more or less. She would be no different, and he relied on her for his own survival too much to risk it. He pushed down the desire to kiss the porcelain skin before his lips.
“Feel it. Sink into it. Be it,” he murmured. “I’ll take you.”
Instead, he forged toward the edge. Where the darkness of the void met the living world. Where the forest swayed into blurriness, as if they viewed it from a distance, and behind them was nothing, neither warmth nor light, but only pure energy in a void as endless as the skies and deeper than the oceans.
HARPER LEANED BACK into his shoulder, savouring his warmth in the strange in-between place, feeling a weird tugging from all directions, sensing the nothingness behind them even as she could see the world before her, as though through glass. Her magic melded with Dimitri’s, becoming one as their energy intertwined, hovering and holding them there. She pushed away, drawing into the void, and the woods grew hazier, before she felt Dimitri’s magic correctively tug them toward the light and away from the shadows.
HE HELD THEM THERE, waiting for her to take stock of all her senses...the magic binding them, channelling through them, surrounding them...feeling her magic tentatively reaching out to examine their surroundings.
After a while, he realised they had tarried enough. Saradon would never find them where they were, on the border of magic and life, but it was no place to stay. Ruefully, he followed the light back to the planes of the living.
As they returned to the clear air, Harper breathed deeply, realising she had barely needed to in the strange in-between place. She turned to him, still in the circle of his arms, her eyes glittering with new life.
“Can we do that again?” she asked breathlessly, her hands upon the smooth fabric covering his chest.
Again, he resisted the impulse to lean down to her parted lips. Instead, he sank them into the shadows once more and raced home, stepping back the moment they arrived. The sudden, cold emptiness of his arms was both unwelcome and welcome. He clenched his jaw.