by Kristie Cook
“Where are we?” Kyr asked with wide eyes as they stepped out of the small room.
“Your closet.”
“You have got to be kidding me.”
His eyebrow lifted at the disbelief coursing through her. He looked around as though studying the space for the first time. It was large, he knew … larger than many human dwellings. There were racks upon racks of clothes and shoes, drawers containing jewelry and all manner of undergarments, displays of hats, scarves, and assorted other accessories, and even several seating areas. He himself had used the chair in the corner on many occasions while watching the Wrym prepare Kyr.
“Why in the world do I need this much stuff?” she asked, sounding aghast.
“You’re the Ascendant.”
She didn’t seem to appreciate his simple response. “Ty, this isn’t me.”
“Ah, but it is,” he argued, stepping closer to her and touching the side of her face. His forearms immediately started burning, so he tightened his hold on her, knowing she would try to step away when she saw the glow. “Allow me to remind you.”
He bent down to kiss her. She met him halfway, bringing her arms up to encircle his neck as he pulled her even closer. Although he suspected he could have shared memories with her now without kissing, he wasn’t about to test the theory.
His mouth brushed against hers as he brought forth memories specific to her closet, wardrobe, and personal space. He gently traced her lower lip with his tongue as he shared memories of him watching her and yearning, producing a moan from deep within her. Her lips parted, so he deepened the kiss, tasting her as he mentally reviewed the names and roles of the different Wrym who served her.
The conveyed memories ceased as the kiss intensified. Soon, his mouth was slanting over hers again and again. He lowered her onto the closest chaise, pressing her into the cushions. His mouth moved from hers down along her delicate jawline to the side of her neck. She gasped and issued another moan as his hand rose along her ribcage to her breast. Their mingled breathing sounded harsh and ragged.
“Ma’jah?” called out a voice from the bedroom.
Guardian Shaya.
Ty stood faster than a child’s pop-up toy, yanking Kyr up with him. He knew they had only seconds. There was no way his arms would stop glowing in time.
The closet handle started turning. He glanced towards the back of the closet, wondering if he could escape to the hidden room. Even as the closet door started to open, he dismissed that idea. Leaving Kyr unguarded was far more dire than his glowing arms.
He was doomed.
His head jerked back around just in time to avoid getting hit by the pile of clothing Kyr hurled at him. He caught it instinctively, taking a step back to maintain his balance. The closet door opened all the way just as the skirt on top of the pile flattened enough that he could see over it. His arms and noticeable erection were now safely hidden by the voluminous clothes, he realized, as was his still rapid breathing.
Shaya walked in and looked between him and Kyr with a puzzled expression. “What in the name of Yen-Ki are you two doing?”
Kyr had turned back to the closest clothing rack and was shoving garments aside as though in a manic search for something. “What do you think I’m doing, Mother?” she asked in a haughty—if somewhat breathless—tone. “I’m looking for the perfect thing to get more presentable. I wouldn’t want to offend you and Father any more than I already have, would I?”
Ty noted Shaya’s quick frown over Kyr’s lack of formality and knew Kyr had done it on purpose. Now Shaya was more affronted than curious.
“I see your lessons have failed to instill the respect I had hoped, Ma’jah,” Shaya murmured. “Perhaps we should have waited to have the welcome ceremony until after the Ruvex Rite was performed.”
Ty tensed. It was typical for returning Alametrians to undergo the Ruvex Rite immediately upon his or her return from their lessons. If the Rite was performed properly, Kyr would retain the important lessons she learned in a general way, and incorporate them seamlessly into her life on Alametria. The negative feelings, in turn, would be suppressed, as would her memories tied to individuals. He’d been relieved to find out the Guardians wanted to wait before Kyr’s Rite was conducted. He was worried that if he didn’t resurface enough memories of the two of them together, Kyr would forget her feelings for him.
Kyr stopped looking through the racks and turned to face her mother. Her face reflected apology. “I’m sorry, Guardian. I’m being difficult because of the strain I’ve been under. I shouldn’t take it out on you. It’s just … I know you’ll forgive me, which makes you an easier target for my frustration.”
Shaya’s expression softened. “Of course I forgive you, Ma’jah. You are my daughter, after all. And we have much catching up to do.” She turned to Ty. “Have you completed your search of Ma’jah’s chambers, Dem-Shyr?”
“Yes, Guardian.”
“Excellent. Please proceed directly to the sanctuary. Guardian Brunyr and Advisor Vycor await you. I wish to stay with Ma’jah.”
Ty didn’t want to leave Kyr alone, but he couldn’t refuse the order. He really did need to discuss the events on Earth with the Guardian and Advisor, as well as the Mynders heading up security at the ceremony. Nodding at Shaya, he turned to the chaise he and Kyr had just been using and set the pile of clothes down. His forearms were back to normal, the etchings on his skin no lighter than normal.
“I’ll return soon, Ma’jah,” he said.
She gave him a dismissive wave and feigned interest in a feathered headpiece, but he heard her thought: I’ll miss you.
Fortunately, he was out the door before the Guardian could see his smile.
Chapter 24
Thank God for Ty and his memory retrieval, Kyra thought a short while later.
Her mother insisted on remaining with her while the Wrym drew her a bath. Kyra mentally reviewed the names of each of the Wrym who entered her chambers under the supervision of the same two Mynders who had escorted her and Ty earlier. She knew Gren, but didn’t recognize the other guy.
There were six Wrym in total, all of them female. They wore simple, unadorned dresses, not unlike the one Kyra wore now. Their heads were covered in scarves that matched their dresses, but Kyra could see from their eyebrows that they all had bright red hair.
What’s with all the redheads?
That thought darted through her head, followed almost immediately by a memory. Where most Alametrian males had dark hair and dark eyes, most females had red hair and blue eyes. The darker a female’s hair and the lighter her eyes, the more likely she was to possess power. The opposite was true for males.
What weird genetics, she mused, pulling self-consciously on a strand of her auburn hair.
None of the Wrym dared to look at her except for one, a younger female who Kyra remembered was called ZashaWrym. Zasha’s midnight blue eyes fluttered up, shyly met Kyra’s, and then zipped back down as she lowered with her peers into a deep bow.
Kyra expected another formal greeting, but the Wrym went about their tasks without speaking, like no one else was even in the room. Considering her mother acted as though the Wrym weren’t there, she could easily guess why. They were considered nothing more than background noise to those of her station.
Her lip curled at the thought.
“You must tell me what happened, Ma’jah,” her mother said, leading her over to one of several plush lounging couches in her receiving chamber. Ty had helped Kyra remember that she didn’t have just one room as part of her chambers, but several.
“What would you like to know?” Kyra hedged, all too aware of the attentive ears around them. Gren and the other Mynder standing inside her closed chamber doors might look like statues, but they weren’t deaf. Nor were the Wrym bustling between the receiving chamber, her closet, and the immense bathing room beyond two golden doors that looked like Heaven’s own gates.
“Dem-Shyr TaeDane mentioned that you were struck by a Shelvak weapon. We
knew the Shelvaks identified the planet you were on, of course, which is why we sent the Dem-Shyr to you. But we had no idea they had gotten so close.”
Kyra pulled at a loose thread on the skirt of her dress. “Well, from what I understand, the Alam—that is, our ship was attempting to transition all of us when their systems were interfered with by the Shelvaks. Ty—Dem-Shyr TaeDane, SemDane, and I were forced to take shelter at a place reserved for emergencies.”
Her mother nodded. “We had also learned that much. The Ambassadors from V’laria are here as we speak. They shared the news of their vessel tracking the Shelvaks to your location and then aiding our ship when the Shelvaks interrupted all communications.”
Wow. News traveled fast across galaxies. She supposed intergalactic transmissions weren’t as crazy-hard as she assumed they would be.
“Yeah,” she said with a shrug. “The V’larians saved me after the Shelvaks found us at the safe house. I’d been stabbed and dropped the luvesta that Dem-Shyr TaeDane had given me. One of them must have picked it up and used it. We got away.”
“And we are grateful for that,” her mother said, though she sounded matter-of-fact rather than truly concerned. “But how did you heal from your wounds?”
Glancing uneasily at the Mynders, she caught the one she didn’t know looking at her. His gaze quickly moved into the distance, but she knew he was listening. Hell, everyone was probably listening. No wonder Ty had taken those few minutes of privacy with her in the closet, she thought.
She flushed pleasantly at the memory. “I don’t know,” she answered at last.
Her mother studied her for a long moment. Kyra guessed she was trying to pry words out of her, but she didn’t have anything else to share. Eventually, her mother rose.
“Come,” she said. “Let’s get you into the bath.”
Kyra didn’t argue. The truth was, she felt grimy and miserable. The very thought of enduring what was sure to be hours of celebration later made her want to weep with exhaustion. Maybe a nice, hot bath would help get her into the right mindset.
“I thought it would be helpful to discuss this evening’s welcome ceremony with you,” her mother said as they entered the huge bathing room.
“Sure,” Kyra said.
As she passed through the Heaven-like gates, her eyes widened. Even the memories invoked by Ty didn’t do this room justice. The center housed a bathtub that might more appropriately be termed a bathing pond. The edges blended with the surrounding floor so one could walk right into it without using stairs. Water fell from an unseen source directly above it, like a central waterfall. Since the cascade was so far from the edges, no water splashed out of it.
The scents of vanilla and lavender filled the steamy air. Frothy purple bubbles generated by the waterfall covered most of the water’s surface. She guessed that was what was releasing the lovely, soothing smell.
Her mother walked over to a chair on the far right side of the room, which housed yet another seating area. This one featured a large vanity covered with styling implements, around which padded seats had been placed. The left side of the room was lined with shelves containing an array of colored glass bottles, clear cylinders filled with round, colorful balls, and many other things she couldn’t identify. At the rear of the room was the door to the water closet and a wall displaying more robes than in a Victoria’s Secret catalog.
Holy Moses.
“What are you waiting for, Ma’jah?” her mother asked, jarring her thoughts.
“Ah …” Kyra glanced around, noting that the two Mynders had joined her and her mother inside the bathroom. They carefully watched the two Wrym in the bathing room with them. One of the Wrym—Heshi, she recalled—was currently pulling sheer purple panels of fabric around the tub, sort of like a shower curtain. The other Wrym approached Kyra.
Smiling, Kyra said, “Hello, Zasha. How are you today?”
The Wrym female blushed bright red and didn’t respond. Shaya cleared her throat and gave Kyra a disapproving look when she met her gaze. Kyra barely withheld an eye roll. They weren’t allowed to talk to the people who worked with them every day? Come on!
Zasha distracted her when she reached down and started lifting up Kyra’s gown. Sweet Jesus … the Wrym intended to undress her. Right in front of the Mynders!
“Wait,” Kyra said, stepping back. She fought a hot flush of embarrassment as she looked at her mother. “Guardian, as you know, I still have my memories from my last, uh, lesson. I’m not used to this lack of privacy. Can’t I bathe myself without everyone in here?”
The gasps from her mother and the two Wrym almost made her burst into a fit of jittery laughter. Only her raging embarrassment contained it.
“Ma’jah, this is one of the things I wished to discuss with you,” her mother said. Her voice was composed, but Kyra detected her disapproval. “You must make every effort to repress what you most recently learned. You risk shaming the Vawn if you do not. Of all of us, you—the Ascendant—are the one people will most look to as an example. It is imperative that you conduct yourself in the truest Alametrian way.”
Dread filled Kyra. How was she supposed to do that when she didn’t remember all of the Alametrian ways? This welcome ceremony was feeling more and more like a terrible idea.
Her mother’s lips pinched. “If we had done the Ruvex Rite, this would not be an issue.”
Panic fluttered in her chest. She remembered what Ty had told her about the Rite. She didn’t want to risk being forced to go through it any sooner than she had to.
“You’re right, Guardian,” she said. “Forgive me.”
Zasha, who had stood meekly by with her eyes downcast, once again stepped forward and assisted Kyra out of the gown. Although it brought heat to Kyra’s cheeks, she stood without protest as Zasha removed her undergarments and the slippers and then took her elbow, much like Ty did, to lead her to the edge of the bath. It was all Kyra could do not to run into the water and dive beneath the bubbles. She could almost feel the gazes of the Mynders on her, even though they were probably trained to look away.
“There will be a large number of Alametrians at the ceremony,” her mother said as Kyra waded towards the waterfall. “When the time comes for the reception, you will be at our sides so that we may ensure you meet those who warrant an introduction. You will avoid interacting with anyone we do not approve.”
Kyra wondered why, but was afraid to ask. She imagined it had something to do with her parents’ ridiculous elitism.
“Fine,” she said, slipping under the waterfall.
It was blissful, warmed to just the right temperature and falling fast enough to knead her shoulders without being painful. If she hadn’t been worried about her audience, she would have groaned in pleasure. As it was, she did her best to keep her body beneath the bubbles as she got her hair wet.
“Thank you for your time, Ma’jah,” her mother said, getting to her feet. “I will see you at the ceremony.”
“Oh,” Kyra said, wiping water from her eyes and wondering if she’d done something wrong. “Okay. Are you going to get ready?”
“In due time,” her mother said with a small smile. “First I must have a conversation with the Dem-Shyr.”
Kyra deliberately plastered on a blasÉ expression that belied her alarm. “I see. I hope it goes well.”
“I’m sure it will. We must take all necessary precautions for your safety tonight, after all.”
Relief rolled through her. “I should hope so,” she said, trying to infuse arrogance into it.
With a more sincere smile, her mother nodded and walked out of the room. The Mynder she didn’t know followed her, likely escorting her to the outer doors. Kyra returned her attention to her bath.
It was a lesson in humility, though she wasn’t sure whose. She found out that the Wrym were responsible for washing her. Every part of her. They shaved her, too, though it wasn’t exactly like using a razor blade. They covered her body in a special solution and used thin, smooth
rocks to wipe away the hair. The only thing saving her from absolute humiliation throughout the ordeal was that they did all of the most intimate things behind the purple curtains, out of the sight of the Mynders.
Once that was done, she was dried with deliciously soft cloths and draped in one of the silk robes. Zasha and Heshi directed her over to the padded seat directly in front of the vanity, where they were soon joined by two of the other Wrym, J’li and Coqe. Kyra sat in silence as she was slowly transformed.
And what a transformation it was. At first, she thought the females had somehow dyed her hair during the bath. Her memories came to her aid, though, and she remembered that her hair had actually been dyed before she left the planet as a way to mask her identity. On Earth, her hair had been mostly brown with a few reddish highlights when the sun hit it. Now, it was dark and lustrous, seeming to glimmer with rich ruby highlights. It fell past her shoulder blades in thick, curling waves.
The Wrym wrought other changes through their various implements, too. She was puzzled when they had her lie back so that they could scan her entire body with several different wands that looked like glow sticks. Some of the places touched by the warm light pinched painfully, as though the light was tugging at her skin and even her bones. She would have suspected the females were intentionally hurting her if it hadn’t been for the fact that the two Mynders watched without concern. The most alarming part was when Heshi had her look directly into the light of the last wand. The resulting burn had Kyra gasping in shock and lurching up.
When the tears of pain cleared her vision, she saw what they’d done. They had restored her features to what they had been before she left.
Holy shit.
As her heart raced, she allowed the memories that her reflection brought forth to rush through her. Even the memories that embarrassed or disgusted her now were welcome. She needed to remember.
The changes weren’t terribly dramatic, she noted as her initial surprise faded. Her eyes, which had been light blue before, were now a diaphanous shade of blue she’d seen only once on Earth, in the form of some gossamer fabric covering a girl’s dress at a party. The darker blue outer circle of her unique irises kept her eyes from looking freaky. They were … something else.