by Jaleta Clegg
The room was filled with people in glittering formal outfits. We headed for the most important looking table, a long one across the far end of the room. Roland sat in the center of the table, grinning madly. He wore a formal tunic, plain brown with no extra beading or tassels or embroidery. He stood up. Will was next to him in some kind of military looking outfit. He glanced at Roland and then stood. He was grinning, too.
I watched the other people at the table. I didn't know any of them. Several of them stood, they looked like the planetary governor and his staff, to judge by their outfits. The ones who stayed seated were the Gypsy Council, or so I guessed. They wore long robes with glittering embroidery down the front. They weren't smiling.
Jasyn stopped ten feet in front of the table. I stood next to her, following her lead. The others filed in behind us.
"Welcome," Roland said simply. "I only have four seats here, but I'm sure there is room at the other tables."
"Thank you," Jasyn said. And left it at that.
I assumed Roland wanted the two of us at the head table. Tayvis and Clark stepped forward with us. We sat at the table. Jasyn was on one side of Roland, I was on the other. Tayvis sat next to me. We were on the end of the table where the governor sat. Will and Clark traded places so Clark could sit next to his wife. The Gypsy Council sat beyond him.
Roland waited until we were all seated before he sat. As if that were a signal, servers began to move between tables with plates of food.
"I was wondering if you were going to stand me up," Roland said.
"Fashionably late," Jasyn corrected him. "We wanted to make an entrance."
"Enjoy your power game, for now," Roland said quietly. "You are still the head of my trade council."
"If it makes you feel better to believe that, I won't disillusion you." Jasyn's smile had teeth.
"You aren't getting out of it that easy," Roland said. "After you left Tebros, they managed to chase off the few who were making progress. I need you back there."
"You'll have to beg harder," Jasyn said.
"Is that what it will take?" Roland turned to face her. "If it's that easy." He pushed his chair back and got on his knees. "Please go back to work."
Will put his head in his hands. Jasyn stared at Roland and then looked over his head at me.
"You're embarrassing yourself again," Will muttered.
The Council was watching intently. Jasyn glanced over her shoulder at them. She grinned at me.
"I'm already married," she said loudly, "but I'm flattered you'd ask."
Roland was surprised for only a second. Then he burst out laughing. He got back into his chair, still chuckling.
"That should give them something to talk about," he said. "Seriously, Jasyn, I need you to knock some sense back into their heads."
"I'm already working on it," she said. "What do you think our entrance was about tonight?"
Roland smiled and saluted her with his glass. "My respect for your clan is too great to express."
"It had better be," Jasyn answered smugly.
I laughed and enjoyed my dinner.
Chapter 60
Max swept through the door, slamming it behind him. He yanked the robe of state loose and pulled it off as if it were poisonous. He dropped it on the floor like a rag. He even stepped on it, not caring what it might cost to replace, if it were possible to replace.
"Sonja?" he called as he hurried through his private rooms.
She wasn't in the formal foyer, or in the private library, or in the informal sitting room. He slammed open the doors to his bedroom, hoping she would be there. Hot disappointment rushed through him. His bed was empty, still neatly made. There was no glimpse of white veil or dress in the shadows of his room. She wasn't here.
He went to his closet and shoved the clothing aside. The wall behind looked solid. He pushed on the corner, just as she had shown him. The wall slid to one side. He hurried into the narrow space behind.
She would be waiting for him in their private grotto. He hurried through the twisting passage. He had to see her, had to hold her. He couldn't wait any longer. Days she had been putting him off, teasing him along. This time she wouldn't get away. He'd claimed he was not feeling well, too tired from the endless hours of planning his coronation. They'd let him go, thinking he was retreating to his rooms for a solitary evening of contemplation of his duties as Emperor.
He had no intention of letting them set the crown on his head. Not now, not ever. His father still breathed. He could name another heir. Max only went along with it because Sonja had promised.
He ran faster down the secret passage at the thought of what she had promised. If only he let them pretend they were going to crown him, she'd said, if he played along, she would see that he got exactly what he craved. She'd assured him he wouldn't have to actually go through with it, only keep them occupied until the real heir could come forward. She named one of his distant cousins. He'd agreed. Anything to keep from having to sit in that throne any longer. And whatever it took to have Sonja as his.
He slid to a stop at the other end of the passage. He stroked the rough rocks under his hand. She had to be waiting for him. He couldn't live without her any longer. Not for another minute. He pushed the release. The door swung open.
The grotto was dim, a small room forgotten behind a waterfall that thundered across the far end, filling the air with a wet smell. He stepped out, searching for her. She had to be here, in their secret place.
"Sonja?" he called, knowing she wasn't going to answer.
He crossed the soft floor of sand to stand next to the pouring sheet of water. His shoulders sagged. She had lied to him. She was never going to let him have more than a taste.
"Max?" He heard her voice, heard the surprise in it and chose to ignore it.
"I couldn't wait," he said, turning to face her across the room. "I couldn't live another moment, take another breath without you."
"Patience, my love," she said. She slid her veil off her face as she glided towards him.
"They say you're made of ice," he said as she came closer. "I can almost believe it." He was not going to beg, he was not going to demean himself in front of her.
"They don't know me as you do," she answered. She stopped one pace in front of him. He smelled her perfume, clean and cold and hinting of icy wind.
"I'm beginning to believe I don't know you at all," Max whispered. His heart raced at the sight of her. He clenched his hands into fists. He was not going to beg.
He whimpered as she stroked her finger across his cheek. His resolve dissipated like smoke on the wind at the feathery touch.
"My love," she whispered, moving closer.
She stopped barely an inch away from him, her dress rustling around his ankles. He closed his eyes.
"Patience, Max," she continued. She traced lines down his neck to the open front of his shirt. Her silvery nails barely touched his skin.
He drew in a shuddering breath and opened his eyes.
"You make me wait too long."
He grabbed her, pulling her up against him. Her smile faded. Her look grew icy and distant. Her hands flattened on his chest.
"This is not the time or the place," she said, each word like a blast of frost.
"This is the time," he answered hotly. Fire to her ice, he thought. Which would win?
She smiled, slow and sly. Her eyelids dropped seductively. Her hands traced circles across his bare skin. He shivered with desire.
"I say it is not right," she said.
Her hands clenched. Her nails ripped streaks across his skin. He gasped and stumbled back, almost into the spray of water. He stared at her in horror as a creeping numbness spread from the scratches she had left behind.
"Max," she whispered, cradling his face in her taloned hands. She licked her lips, a brief flash of red against the paleness of her face. "Patience, my love."
She pulled his face down and kissed him, nipping his lip. He moaned, stumbling to his knees in front
of her. He tried to fight the numb tingling, the creeping grayness that clouded his mind. She still held his face, now she turned it up to hers. She was smiling, a hint of passion in the curve of her lips.
"This is not the time, not yet," she said.
"No," he agreed, his words slurring.
"You will do as I wish and I will reward you," she purred.
"Sonja," he whispered.
"Promise you will do as I say," she said, like a teacher to a stubborn pupil.
He wanted to fight. He knew somewhere deep in his mind that she was using him, drugging him to do her will. He tried to fight the blankness filling his head. He raged impotently against her touch. He felt his body responding to her. He heard himself agreeing, promising to do what she told him. He heard himself repeating words that disgusted and repulsed him. He heard the filth pouring from her mouth and hated her.
He was helpless to stop any of it. She stroked his cheek and he was locked away, pushed into a formless gray void in his mind.
His last thought was anger at her as she pulled his head to cradle against her belly, her fingers running through his hair. The last sound he heard was her chilling laugh.
Chapter 61
"Perfect," Twyla announced, stepping back.
I stared in the mirror in front of me. A stranger stared back with wide, frightened eyes.
"You're beautiful, Dace," Jasyn assured me.
"We've got fifteen minutes, people," Paltronis said from the door of the room.
I looked around in panic. There were at least ten women in the room, most of them I knew. They all wore blue-green dresses, including Paltronis.
"You'll be fine, Dace," Jasyn said. She patted my arm. "Go on," she said to the others. "I think she needs a minute alone."
I watched as the others filed out, feeling my panic grow with each departure.
"I can't do this," I said.
"It's normal to be nervous," Jasyn said. "You'll get over it."
"Stop smiling at me," I said, alarmed at the shakiness of my voice. I stared at the stranger in the mirror.
She was slender, wearing a dress that made her look like a queen. The top was fitted, covered with lace and delicate beadwork. The skirt poufed out until it was wider than I was tall. Strands of delicately shimmering beads decorated it in swirls and twists. Twyla had woven flowers into my hair, tiny sprays of white that smelled sweet. It almost made me barf. My stomach twisted in knots. I pressed my hands against my belly, watching the figure in the mirror do the same.
"I've got to check on things," Jasyn said. "I'll be right back with your flowers."
She left me alone in the waiting room. I stared at myself. I was pale, almost white. I took one tottering step in the high heeled shoes she'd made me wear.
"I can't do this," I moaned to myself.
I stumbled over to a chair and dropped into it. My dress fluffed up, covering the whole chair in expensive fabric. I kicked off the shoes and dropped my face into my hands.
"I can't do this," I whimpered again.
"They're beautiful," Jasyn said, banging into the room again. "They've got just the right scent. What's wrong?"
"I'm going to throw up," I said, dropping my hands. I had to swallow hard.
"Did you forget to eat?" she demanded. "I told you to eat before you came down here."
I twisted my hands together, barely hearing her. My knuckles were white.
"You did remember to take your medication?" she continued. She knelt beside my chair, concern making lines in her face. She took my hands in hers. "You're ice cold."
"I can't do this," I repeated. "Tell me I don't have to do this," I begged.
"I am not going to say that," she said sharply. "Get hold of yourself, Dace. You faced down the Sessimoniss by yourself, you can walk out there and get married."
"No, I can't." I was about to cry. And throw up.
Jasyn stood, hands on her hips as she glared at me. "Don't be such a baby, Dace."
The door opened. Dariana Grace, Tayvis' mother, stepped in and closed the door behind her. "Is there a problem? They're all waiting."
I stared at her, wondering what she really thought of me. She looked gorgeous, elegant and regal in deep green satin. She looked like a vid star. I started to giggle. She was a vid star. She was also going to be my mother-in-law.
"Dace, I swear I'm going to slap you if you keep making that noise," Jasyn said.
Dariana swept across the room. She took Jasyn's arm. "Give us a moment," she said as she pushed Jasyn out the door.
She turned back to me when we were alone.
"I can't do this," I said, shaking my head. I felt the thin veil fastened into the circle of flowers stir.
"You're going to break my son's heart? Again?" Her face was as stony as Tayvis' could be.
I shook my head. A flower slid free, dropping into my lap. "Never," I said.
"Then why are you still sitting here?"
"Can't we just run away?" I asked plaintively.
Her face softened. "You've got a massive case of stage fright."
I closed my eyes, clenching my hands so tight I felt nails biting into my palms. She patted my hands.
"Take a deep breath and pretend they're all in their underwear," she said.
"That's what Clark told me once," I said, looking up at her.
She knelt beside me and squeezed my hands.
"I can't do this," I said, trying to explain myself. "I can't wear this dress, those shoes. This isn't me."
She just waited.
"It doesn't help that there are hundreds of people out there," I added.
"Thousands, maybe more," she said, "if you count the cameras."
I used the most colorful swear words I could think of.
"Don't say that out there," she advised. "Just hold up your head and be yourself."
"I can't," I said.
"Then pretend you're someone else, somewhere else," she said. "Whatever helps."
"This isn't what I wanted," I complained.
"It isn't about you, not anymore."
"It's my wedding."
She shook her head, but she was smiling. "It's about heroes and hope, Dace. You're their hero."
I shook my head in denial. "I never did anything heroic, not intentionally."
"That isn't what matters."
"You're their hero, Deena. Look at you, you starred in hundreds of vids."
"Forty three," she corrected. "And I was only pretending. You're the real thing and they know it. They need you. Listen to me." She waited until I quit shaking my head and looked at her. She sighed and patted my cheek. "You and the crew of your ship are the heroes here, whether you wanted the job or not. Dace, most of them have lost their security of knowing what tomorrow will bring. Their universe is in chaos. They need hope. They need someone to look up to. They need you to show them that life goes on. That happiness is still possible. They need to see you get married. They need a reason to celebrate and you're it."
She stood, shaking out her skirt.
"Now, stand up, hold up your chin and pretend they're in their underwear. And marry my son." She smiled and held out her hand.
I took it and let her pull me to my feet. The dress flowed out around me, like a giant mushroom.
"He loves you," she added, squeezing my hand.
"I know," I answered. The nervous knots in my middle were still there. I took a shaky breath and let go of her hand.
"That's it, just keep breathing," she said. "You have ten seconds to walk out this door or I will come in and drag you out. And your father will help."
She waited until I nodded before she left. The door swung shut behind her. I took a deep breath, then another. I saw my shoes lying on the floor, tiny straps on very high heels. I looked down at the full skirts of my dress and felt a twinge of rebellion.
I left the shoes on the floor and walked through the door in my stockings. No one was going to notice under that skirt. I clutched the bouquet of flowers like a shie
ld and took a step into the room.
Music exploded around me. I stepped onto the carpet stretching the length of the large room. I lifted my chin and stared straight ahead, ignoring the hundreds of people watching me.
At the end of the carpet, I could see Jasyn and Ginni, Twyla and Paltronis. On the other side, Clark, Beryn, Everett and Doggo stood together, grins plastered on their faces. Will was behind them, giving me a thumbs up sign. And at the very end of the carpet, Roland waited in his brown robe and a huge smile. Tayvis stood in front of him, looking as scared as I felt. I smiled when I saw that. I felt much better knowing he was just as nervous.
"You ready?" Darus asked, stepping up beside me.
I smiled, feeling the knot inside loosen. I took his arm and let him walk me up the carpet. I was getting married. I was adding to my family.
Tayvis was never going to walk away from me again.
Chapter 62
The dark stretched endlessly. He crawled through the rocks, feeling his way as if he were blind. Time had no meaning for him.
She hadn't come, not in a long time. It was so long, he could almost remember his name. He didn't know whether to rejoice or mourn at her absence. He crawled through the dark, searching for the last scraps of supplies. He found his last cache, crawling into the tiny hole and clutching the hoard of wrappers to his chest. She would come again. She wouldn't let him starve.
He held the last bar, eating it slowly, savoring every crumb. He tried to make it last as long as he could. All of the food was gone. He had no more.
He waited, while his belly complained and shrank. He stayed in the hole, waiting. She would come with food. She had to come with food.
There was no light, no shining in the darkness. He had to eat. He had to find water. He crawled free of the filthy hole.
He felt his way through the maze, learned in the dark by touch and feel. He knew where the water dripped. It was cold and tasted of harsh minerals. He drank anyway, so thirsty his lips cracked and bled. He crouched in the dark, licking the stone wall like an animal.