“It’s true. I hadn’t expected this opportunity and I’m ill prepared. I hadn’t thought that—” He sighed. Amused chagrin crossed his face. “Is it too late to woo you into coming with me willingly?”
I laughed, the sound harsh as the cawing of a crow.
“Do I look feebleminded to you?”
He examined me, considering. “Foolish, perhaps. Certainly overconfident. But no”—he sighed again, as if pressed by a great weight—“not likely to trust me. Yet.”
“Trust!” I spat. “You’re the feebleminded one.”
“Look at me, Andromeda,” he commanded, sapphire glints hypnotic in his dark eyes. “I’ve been looking for you. Don’t you recognize anything about me?”
I couldn’t help but look. The press of his hard body, the searing heat of his skin, the eyes like midnight and twilight wrapped together—they reminded me of something. A wolf howled, lonely, my mind. The ocean surged, swirling blue depths sinking into deepest black.
Under the waves, deep under the sea
Sands dissolve the cicatrix of thee.
Cobalt crabs pluck at deep-frozen lies
Eating the corpses of what she denies.
The images, as with the words of the song, ate at me, blurring the edges of who I knew myself to be. Salena. He’d mentioned my mother. What did that mean?
“I’ve never seen you before in my life,” I whispered. It felt like a lie.
Was that Fiona’s nicker in the background? I seized on that. My horse, my life at Ordnung. That was true. Real.
“No. But I thought you would know me anyway.”
“You didn’t recognize me—you thought I was both of my sisters.”
“Did Salena teach you nothing?”
“My mother died,” I snapped.
“Believe me, I know. Her death caused a number of problems.”
“I’m so sorry that the greatest tragedy in my life gave you annoyance.”
The half smile twisted his lips. “More than you can conceive. I’ll make you a deal. Give me a kiss.”
I didn’t reply. My dagger hand had gone numb, but a flex of my fingers reassured me I still grasped the hilt.
“One kiss,” he repeated, “and if you still don’t want to come with me, if nothing happens, I’ll let you go.”
Seemed like a bad bargain on his part, but I wouldn’t point that out.
“Fine.”
“No arguing?”
I shrugged as best I could. “Whatever gets me closer to freedom. Either you’ll keep your word or you won’t. Either way, I’ve given up nothing of importance. And I seriously doubt your kisses are that spectacular.”
“No?” he murmured, lowering his head. “We’ll see.”
Mesmerized, I watched his lips descend to mine. The blood still pulsed, oozing out of the cut, fresh and bright over the dried tracks. Despite his nonchalant words, I felt the tension shimmering through him. This was the moment Ursula had described, when lust clouds one’s thinking.
“Blood,” I murmured the moment before he touched me.
“What?” His voice rumbled through me, soft, gravelly.
“You have blood on your lips.”
“I know. That’s the point.” With a certain grim determination, his mouth fastened on mine, though I tried to turn my head at the last moment. A bright flash of pain and I realized he’d bitten my lip.
“Thrice-damn you!” I tore my mouth away, struggling.
“Watch,” he ordered, holding me still.
On his lips, the blood seemed to shimmer, then move of its own accord. A tiny bird formed, darkening from the scarlet of fresh blood to black.
Then flew away.
Aghast, enthralled, horrified, I watched it go, an impossible pinprick disappearing against the sky.
“That’s impossible,” I whispered.
The man’s joyful and triumphant smile crashed into disappointment at my words. “You really know nothing at all.”
“Then let me up and you can explain.”
Resigned, he nodded and moved just enough to loosen the grip on my hand.
Not my dagger hand, but the one between us that he’d pressed to my bosom. I pushed my fist through his hand, up in a short jab to his larynx. He jerked back, howling, and his blood spattered my face, warm salt on my tongue. I pulled my dagger hand free and plunged the knife into the only target I could reach, his muscular shoulder.
The knife stuck and I had no time to tug it free. I yanked away. He grabbed my ankle and I stomped down on his wrist with my boot and ran.
Straight to Fiona, who waited right there, thank Moranu.
The dogs gave chase and I couldn’t separate their excited barks from the man’s angry howls. I heard him ordering them to stand down, as if they’d understand his words.
I scrambled onto Fiona, expecting the sharp bite of the hounds at any moment, but they only spun around my horse, sniffing and yipping. I dared to look for the man.
He knelt in the grass, rage, pain, and blood distorting his fine-boned face, black hair a wild cape around him.
“This isn’t over between us, Andromeda,” he punched the words at me through his pained throat. “Don’t think for a moment that you’ve escaped me. I am your fate. I have the taste of your blood now. Run now if you’re afraid, but I will come after you. I will always find you. You will be mine.”
“Never!” I shouted at him.
“Always.”
It sounded like a vow.
2
I kicked Fiona into a gallop, tearing back across the meadow, leaving that man behind to his threats and his dogs. My mind whirled in a windstorm of reaction, my thoughts racing as fast as the trees whipping by, yet making no more sense, as if it all moved too fast for me to get a good look.
After a time, my heart and lungs slowed their panicked pumping. Fiona read my gradual relaxation and slowed our wild flight. My stomach hurt, I noticed, cold and congealed, and a headache throbbed in my temples. We limped home, Fiona no doubt banged up from her sudden roll. My arm stung where the man had scratched me, but I thought I had escaped pretty much unscathed. When we drew near enough to see Ordnung’s searing white towers, I dismounted and walked Fiona in, studying her gait for any sign of injury. Now my body ached in every joint. I could feel the bruises blossoming.
“What happened to you?” Ursula, wearing a court gown, came from the direction of the castle and gave me a scorching look.
“Don’t you have things to do?” I muttered, unstrapping my sword from the pommel. “Ruling kingdoms? Digging up obscure laws?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Amelia and Hugh have arrived for a visit. When I heard you’d been spotted riding in, I thought you’d want to know. You should keep your sword on you, not strapped to your saddle. Especially if you’re going to take off for Glorianna knows where without a bodyguard.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Nice attitude—what happened?”
“Nothing. Fiona took a fall, is all.”
“So I gathered from the grass all over both of you. That’s not what’s bothering you.”
I shrugged, careful to hide my wince at the shooting pain across my shoulders. “What—you’re the only one who gets to be crabby around here?”
“You should be thrilled that Amelia and Hugh are here and you barely acknowledged it.” She drew a long stem of that acid-green grass from my hair and examined it thoughtfully. Bit it lightly. Settled a hard gaze on me. “Where in—or outside—Mohraya did you get to? And is that blood on you?”
“I never left King’s Land, Highness,” I snapped. “I know my boundaries.” More or less.
“That means nothing and you know it. You went over the foothills, toward the Wild Lands.”
“Which is still King’s Land.”
A young groom started to lead Fiona away. “Check her over, would you, Jemmy? She took a bit of a fall.”
He nodded at me, eyes wide.
Ursula held up the blade of grass, blocking my w
ay, gray eyes hard as steel. “I’ve seen this while hunting. It’s at the border of the Wild Lands, probably over. Have you lost your precious mind?”
“Clearly you have been there.”
“With about fifty other people, not gallivanting by myself!”
“I need to get cleaned up. I cut myself up a bit—that’s the blood.” I shouldered past her and she grabbed my arm. I hissed at the pain. Ursula softened her grip and flipped up the torn fabric.
“That’s a bruise and scratch from a hand—not a fall. And you have a swollen lip.” Her voice sounded clinical, but I could see the fury building in her. “You’re going to tell me what happened right now, Andi. Or I’ll tell the High King and let him drag it out of you.”
Tears unexpectedly pricked my eyes. Maybe it was her fierce concern. Or the aftereffects of the whole incident. I felt as young and fragile as Ursula saw me. Her face softened instantly when she saw me crumple.
“Oh, honey . . .”
She started to embrace me, but I put up a hand to stop her.
“Please, no, Ursula. I don’t want to get into it now. I need to take a bath. I want to see Hugh and Amelia. We can talk later.”
“I need to know if you—or any of our territory—is in immediate danger.”
The man’s severe face and dark words scattered through my mind. Long-range plans, he’d said. “I don’t think so.” I hesitated, then added, “Not yet, anyway.”
Ursula cursed, her hand twitching for her sword. She tossed the blade of grass aside and pointed at me. “Tomorrow I’m taking a scout team up there. You’re coming with us and you’ll tell me every single detail.”
“And if I’m too sore to ride?”
“Serves you right for being so careless. I know you don’t pay much attention to such things, Andi, but you’re no longer a tomboy who can ride everywhere. You’re a pretty young woman and second in line for the throne. You dangled yourself like a juicy snack in front of a pack of wolves, endangering yourself and your kingdom today. Trust me—my methods of punishment won’t come near what Uorsin will do when he hears of this. And don’t mistake me. Once I’ve dragged everything out of you, then you get to tell him.”
She spun on her heel, her strides too long for the gown, spine a rigid line up to her tightly braided hair, and left me in her dust.
Lady Gaignor waited for me in my chamber, already marshaling the maidservants to fill the bath and lay out a gown.
“Her Highness Princess Ursula sent word you’d need help.” She held out a basket of liniments by way of explanation. “Bad fall? Is Fiona okay?”
“She seems fine, Violet.” I smiled at her. “If you get a chance to sneak off later, would you check with the grooms about her?”
“I’ll look her over myself, if you like, Princess.”
“I’d be grateful.”
The hot bath settled me considerably. Between that and Gaignor’s competent massage with the liniments, I felt more like my usual self. She also shared the gossip that had arrived along with the Avonlidgh entourage.
“King Erich is giving them Castle Windroven? That’s a surprise.”
Gaignor shook her head in my peripheral vision while the maidservant coiled my hair into an elaborate pile. “No, it isn’t. It’s tradition for Avonlidgh’s heirs to be born at Windroven. King Erich is clearly expecting grandchildren, and soon.”
I tried to listen, but my mind found its own way to the man in the meadow. Did Ursula think he represented some kind of incursion from the Wild Lands? Now that I thought about it, she hadn’t been terribly surprised. Angry, yes. With me and more. Already more sentries were stationed at the castle’s outer perimeters—so quickly and in such an obvious way that I had spotted them from my window before I ever got into the bath.
I watched myself in the mirror, not seeing the woman Ursula had described. She wasn’t given to exaggeration, but I had nothing like Amelia’s beauty. Instead of her winsome heart-shaped face, mine was my mother’s oval, my chin too round and soft. I shared Ursula’s gray eyes, but where Ursula’s shone clear like steel, and Amelia, of course, had eyes like pure violet twilight, mine were as dark and muddy as storm clouds. My hair looked fine spruced up like this, but the color, neither Ursula’s rich auburn nor Amelia’s strawberry-gold, was simply dark brown, or rusty black, as one of our nurses used to say. I possessed neither Amelia’s delicate dancer’s body nor Ursula’s athletic physique. Sometimes I worried that this advancing weakness meant that I had some terrible disease. Rotten in the middle. No one had ever said I resembled our mother. I couldn’t recall much of her face, after all these years.
The borders of my mind blurred again, as they had when those feral blue eyes had captured me. Once he knew I wasn’t my sisters, he’d looked at me differently—and not in a bad way. As if I was someone—not just the space between them.
“So we’re all waiting to see if Hugh is carrying a message from King Erich or if this is purely a social call.”
“Oh?” I answered Gaignor, scrambling to catch the words I’d forgotten to listen to.
She wrinkled her nose at me. “I don’t know why I bother with you, Princess.”
“I don’t either,” I sighed. “I don’t know why anyone does.” Melancholy crept in with the headache. I could lie down and sleep the entire afternoon.
Gaignor patted my arm. “It’s the fall. You’ll perk up when you see your sister.”
Amelia squealed when she saw me. We weren’t in formal court, since Hugh was family now. Still, Ursula frowned at Amelia’s lack of decorum when she leapt out of her chair and ran to me with her happy laugh. Or maybe Ursula just hadn’t stopped frowning. Amelia could usually get away with most anything.
“Andi!” Amelia chirped, hugging me. I swallowed the flinch. “I’ve missed you so. How dare you be out riding when we arrived!”
I tugged one of her tumbling locks of shining hair. “When you grow up someday, you can send a note ahead.”
She pouted. “I wanted it to be a surprise. And darling Hugh was kind enough to indulge his spoiled wife.” She looked over her shoulder, reaching a hand for Hugh, who waited a respectful distance back.
He stepped up, took her slim hand, and kissed it. “You’re a delight to indulge, my love.” He bowed to me then. “Princess Andi, you’re looking lovelier than ever.”
“And you, Prince Hugh, are a dreadful liar and likely the most charming man in the Twelve Kingdoms.”
He chuckled and winked at me, his summer-sky eyes friendly, warm, without calculation or shadows. Taking my hands, he kissed my cheek. He smelled like vanilla and sunshine. Amelia beamed at us.
“Princess Ursula mentioned you’d taken a fall—you’re unharmed, pray Glorianna?”
A little knot formed between Amelia’s delicate eyebrows and she pushed her finger against it, so she wouldn’t get wrinkles. “I didn’t hear that! Oh, I wish you wouldn’t ride that horse all over beyond.”
“She won’t, anymore,” Uorsin rumbled.
My stomach dropped. Father strode into the room and settled himself on his throne, Ursula beside him. Twin pairs of steely eyes observed our little reunion. It did not bode well at all that Father had announced such a thing in open court, informal or no. Our attendants provided ample witnesses that the King had instructed me. In one sentence he’d robbed me of my freedom and any opportunity to present my case.
I curtsied to him, low and formal, my sore muscles protesting. “It’s my pleasure to serve the King’s wishes.”
He nodded and glanced away, avoiding looking at me, as always. I took the opportunity to flash Ursula a mean look. She only raised her eyebrows at me in bland accusation. How could she think I brought this on myself? Yes, I’d ventured too far, but there was no way to know that man would be up there . . .
Amelia slipped her arm through mine. “Don’t worry—I’m sure he doesn’t mean for always. Come, let’s eat and I’ll tell you how wonderful Hugh is.”
“Yes.” I smiled to make her happy, prete
nding everything would be okay. “I hear you two are getting a castle all your own.”
“With a suite set aside especially for my favorite little sister,” Hugh assured me with an easy grin, offering his arm on my other side. Sympathy shadowed his smile. Hugh would understand about losing freedom. He leaned to whisper in my ear, “When you come visit, you can ride all you like.”
“Now that my free-roaming daughter has seen fit to join us,” Uorsin announced, “we shall retire to enjoy a feast celebrating the first postnuptial visit of my beloved Princess Amelia and her noble husband and treasured liege, Prince Hugh.”
Smiles and clapping all around. Not for me, sandwiched between the golden couple. Amelia whispered in my ear, “What on earth happened to make Father and Ursula so angry?”
Even they didn’t know. I opened my mouth to tell her—
The stained-glass window of Glorianna’s rose flew apart with a great crash.
A wave rippled through the room as everyone flinched from the explosion of sound, then from the rain of rose-colored glass. An enormous bird, bigger than a hawk, smaller than an eagle, so black it absorbed the sunlight, swooped around the room in a great circle. Ursula, Uorsin, Hugh, and the guards all responded like a second wave splashing back, thrusting whatever steel they possessed at the ceiling.
The bird swept another circle, turning its head to glare at us with a baleful blue eye.
Then it dropped a small cylinder at the King. A guard deflected it with his blade. Another tracked the bird’s flight with the tip of his arrow. The zing of the bowstring drew a strangled cry from me. The arrow sliced through the edge of a wing. The raptor screamed in rage but recovered its flight. A single black feather wafted down in front of me, taking its time in a rocking pendulum descent, while guards called orders and ladies covered their heads and shrieked.
The feather landed at my feet, iridescent now against the white marble floor.
I thought no one saw me pick it up—their attention was so riveted on the circling bird. Several more arrows flew, embedding themselves in the priceless carved ceiling. The raptor cawed out a laughing sound and soared back out the broken window.
The Twelve Kingdoms: The Mark of the Tala Page 3