Seer's Hope

by Anderson, Maree

  “Yes. Thank you.” Hope blotted tears with her sleeve.

  “Hope.”

  She jerked at the sound of his voice. And threw him a sunny smile he didn’t believe for an instant.“Blayne!”

  He sat beside her. “Are you unhappy?”

  She blinked at the blunt question. “I am fine.”

  “Perhaps you will answer this next question truthfully. How do you feel about me?” He tensed, waiting for her reply, knowing it would alter his life forever. What if his feelings weren’t reciprocated? What if she was only staying with him from some misplaced sense of obligation?

  What if she left him to go back to her own world?

  “I am grateful you let me live with you and that you look after me,” she said, carefully skirting the subject.

  “You know that’s not what I mean. Do you love me, Hope?”

  She lowered her gaze, hiding her expression from his view, but he was having none of it. He tilted her chin so he could gauge the truth in her eyes. “Answer me.”

  For one agonizing moment she remained silent. Then her lips parted ever so slightly, and the words he’d been aching to hear spilled out. “Yes. Yes, I love you.”

  Relief and joy cascaded through him in a heady rush. “I love you, too.” He’d never said those words to any other woman. He kissed her tenderly, the merest brush of his lips against hers, holding back even though he wanted more—so much more. Because if he kissed her like he so desperately wanted to right now, he’d lose himself in her and make a spectacle of them both.

  “That’s so beautiful.”

  He glanced over his shoulder to see Maya standing behind him cradling a brimming plate in her hands. She sniffed and blinked rapidly.

  “Give me that before you spill it all over yourself.” He stood to take the plate from her unresisting hands. “And please don’t mention this to anyone. We don’t need gossip complicating matters.”

  “I won’t say a word.”

  Cayl tapped Maya on the shoulder. He brandished a full skin of sekar and a couple of goblets. “A word about what?” he asked.

  “Cayl, how thoughtful.” Maya snatched the goblets and held them out for him to fill. She handed one to Blayne and the other to Hope. “I’d like some sekar, too. Can you get me another goblet, sweetling?”

  “But what—?” Cayl snapped his mouth shut as he caught Maya’s eye. She frowned at him, rolling her eyes toward first Blayne and then Hope. “I’ll just get another goblet, shall I?” he said, waggling his eyebrows in a meaningful fashion.

  Blayne groaned. Cayl would grill Maya like a fish until she revealed what she was hiding. “For gods’ sakes, you can tell Cayl. But no one else. And not now,” he hastened to add when Cayl showed signs of insisting Maya confess all on the spot.

  Varaya’s arrival with one of the musicians provided a welcome diversion. “Any food left?”

  “Heaps,” Maya said. “Help yourself. And Roban?” She tapped the musician’s shoulder to get his full attention. “Thank you for playing. Janus loved your music. It would have meant a lot to him.”

  The musician inclined his head. “My pleasure, Maya.”

  Varaya drew the newcomer forward to introduce him. Strange to think of Varaya and Hope as friends. Please gods, Hope wouldn’t get roped into any of Varaya’s dramas.

  “Hope, this is Roban.” Varaya clutched the man’s arm as if she feared he’d bolt. “He’s a very talented musician.”

  “Hello, Roban,” Hope said. “You play beautifully.”

  Blayne blinked, wondering how Hope had been able to identify Roban’s music considering she had no idea what instrument he played. He’d have to remember to ask her later.

  “Ah, the pretty lady who sang for Janus.” Roban planted a kiss on her hand. “You have a lovely voice.”

  Hope blushed. “I do not sing well.”

  “I don’t agree,” he said. “Would you sing that song again for me sometime? I’d like to write it down. How about tomorrow?”

  Enough. Blayne non-too-gently shouldered Roban aside, using the excuse of settling a plate in Hope’s lap and describing the side-dishes Maya had chosen for her.

  Willem was sitting close enough that he couldn’t help overhearing Hope and Blayne’s little drama. Insight smacked him and he paused, a forkful of stew halfway to his mouth. Perhaps he did have a chance with Varaya—if he had the courage to try. Could he take the risk? He glanced up in time to see the object of his obsession batting her lashes at her companion.

  “My feet are killing me,” she all but purred to Roban.

  Roban took the hint and gallantly offered to fetch her some food. She waited until was out of earshot before leaning over to nudge Hope. “Typical man. He was flirting with you right in under my nose.”

  Willem hid a smile. She was wasting her time with the musician. He rose, plate in hand, and sauntered over to her. “You don’t have to worry about Roban flirting with Hope,” he said. “He’s not interested in women that way. He only pays them attention to make his partner jealous.”

  Varaya narrowed her gaze to slits. “Rubbish. He begged to accompany me.”

  “Of course he did, Varaya. He’s only interested in attractive women, and you are very attractive. I’d wager he’s had another spat with Zavier. You just happened along at the right moment.”

  “I don’t believe you.” Her slitted glaze morphed into a full-on glower… which quickly slid into a radiant smile for Roban’s benefit when he approached her with a filled plate and cup of sekar.

  “How are your feet?” the musician enquired, so solicitously Willem rolled his eyes. “I’m told I give the best foot massages around.”

  Willem turned his snort into a cough as Varaya’s gaze swiveled in his direction.

  “Willem!” A woman’s voice hailed him.

  He waved, and put his plate aside to wandered over to chat. “Hey, Shayna. Long time no see.”

  She hugged him and then pulled back to get a better look at his face. “You’re looking extremely well, Willem.” She abruptly realized she was in lofty company and clutched his arm, eyeing the others uncertainly.

  He patted her hand. “Shayna, I’d like you to meet Cayl and Maya, Roban and Varaya.”

  She slanted him a sideways glance at that last implied pairing. She’d obviously heard all about Roban’s unofficial male partner, too. Poor Varaya. She was doomed to disappointment. But if she chose to ignore his warning she only had herself to blame. “Everyone, this is my cousin, Shayna.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” Varaya ground out from between clenched teeth, and then made a point of ignoring the other woman.

  Shayna’s eyes sparkled with mirth. But the grin wiped from her face when Willem gestured to Hope. “Willem, isn’t she the one—?”

  He tugged her forward. “Yes. It’s because of her I’ve turned my life around. Come, I want you to meet them both. Shayna, this is Panakeya Blayne.”

  “Nice to meet you, Shayna.”

  She inclined her head. “Panakeya.”

  “Just Blayne will do.”

  “And this is Hope, the one responsible for me looking ‘extremely well’. We didn’t get off to the best start when we first met but we’re friends now.” He gulped, suddenly unsure, his old insecurities returning tenfold. Please gods he hadn’t overstepped his boundaries.

  “Of course you are my friend, Willem. And perhaps if you simply ask for a kiss next time, I might even say yes.”

  Even Blayne’s lips quirked at her breezy tone. Willem sagged with relief. It seemed he’d truly been forgiven. He wouldn’t be smacked between the eyes with his past every time he turned around. At least, not by these people.

  Shayna stood on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. “Please don’t tell me you’ve got your eye on her.” She indicated Varaya with a disdainful flick of her fingers.

  “Of course not.” But his gaze latched onto Varaya, who was tossing her head and giggling at some witticism of Roban’s. “She’s quite something, though.” />
  “You poor, poor man. Good luck with that. From what I’ve heard, you’ll certainly be needing it.”

  He felt Shayna recoil and she tried to hide behind him. “What’s wr—?” Oh. Hope had turned her gaze on them both. He sympathized with his cousin. Being subjected to that compelling golden gaze could be discomfiting.

  “Are you hungry, Shayna?” Hope asked. “Would you like to eat?”

  “Um, I haven’t eaten yet but—”

  As though magically summoned, Maya appeared bearing eating utensils and a brimming plateful of food. Cayl followed her with another skin of sekar and a spare goblet. Before Shayna could gather her wits about her, she was seated, a plate on her lap and a drink within easy reach. She applied herself diligently to her food, wolfing it down as if her life depended upon it.

  “Slow down,” Willem murmured. “Relax. They’re all normal people—even Blayne once you get to know him. He can seem rather forbidding at first but—”

  “It’s not him I’m nervous about,” Shayna hissed back at him. “It’s her.”

  She’d not taken into account a blind person’s acute hearing. “Are you nervous of me, Shayna?” Hope asked.

  Shayna blushed as red as her hair.

  “Why, Shayna?”

  “You scare me,” his cousin finally admitted. “Because of what you are.”

  Hope stilled. The atmosphere around her seemed to crackle. Willem rubbed his forearms, glanced down and found the hairs standing on end.

  When he looked up again he noticed Hope’s golden eyes had darkened with hurt. Words boiled from her mouth. “You are scared of me? How can that be when it is I who am scared? Always scared. Strange things happen. I cannot see. I do not know this place. I do not know you, or your ways. I do not know how I am to save—” She bit her lip. “I do not know how to do anything. I am supposed to have this… this… powerful magic, but everything I do is an accident.”

  Shayna bowed her head, obviously unwilling to speak in case she provoked another outburst.

  Hope reached out to clumsily pat her shoulder. The shame that oozed from her made Willem’s stomach knot in sympathy. He knew that feeling intimately.

  “I am sorry, Shayna,” she said. “I am not angry at you. I am angry at myself. Please forgive me?”

  Shayna’s chin jerked up, eyes huge with shock at the unexpected apology. “Of course,” she said, her voice barely more than a squeak.

  Willem nudged her. She’s only human, he mouthed, relieved when Shayna nodded, accepting the truth of his words. He covertly examined Hope’s face, trying to see what Shayna saw. He didn’t see a Sehan, the most powerful woman in the settlement, and indeed, Dayamaria. He saw a young woman who’d forgiven him his sins and offered him a second chance, and who seemed to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders. He wished he could comfort her as easily as he comforted Shayna.

  “Maya?” Hope’s voice cracked. “I am not feeling good. My head aches.”

  “For gods’ sakes take the poor girl home, Blayne,” Maya said. “And Hope? Thank you for my father’s last words. I will treasure them.” She hugged her friend.

  Roban somehow dragged himself away from worshipping at the altar of Varaya. “Going so soon? What about that song? I want you all to myself for a few hours to get it down in writing. Tomorrow?”

  “Oh leave her be, Roban,” Varaya said. “Hope’s hardly likely to vanish on you. You’ll have plenty of time to extract your precious song from her.” She hugged Hope briefly. “I’ll come see you tomorrow when you’re feeling better. We’ll have lots to talk about, I’m sure.”

  Shayna giggled, her disquiet momentarily forgotten as she slanted Willem wicked eyes. “She’s in for a disappointing evening.”

  This time he didn’t even try to hide his grin.

  ~~~

  Back at the gathering Hope had been on the brink of blurting that Dayamar had made a huge mistake by choosing her, that she would never be able to save them all as he hoped. Only the recollection of Dayamar’s fear had silenced her tongue. If he was afraid, how would the average Dayamari cope? If it got out there would likely be a mass panic, and Dayamar would never forgive her.

  “Hope?” Blayne tugged her around to face him.

  She’d scream if she got one more query about her state of mind or health. She need a distraction. She entwined her hands in his hair, pulling his head down to seek his lips. And she kissed him very seriously indeed.

  She must have taken him by surprise for he took a moment to respond. She pressed her advantage, molding her body to his. She would have given her life to be able to see his face at the moment. The only evidence that her desires were returned was his purely physical, typically male reaction to her closeness. It would have to be enough.

  She reached between them, wrapped her hand around him, squeezed gently. He groaned, and shuddered beneath her touch.

  She smiled. This time she would take control, be in control. And she would make sure he enjoyed every moment.

  Chapter Eleven

  Blayne rolled until they lay face to face. His breath caressed her skin. The intimacy made her smile. They hadn’t even made it to the main sleeping room—their makeshift bed was a pile of cushions beside the hearth. She stroked his arm, thrilling when he shuddered beneath her touch. “I am starting to feel the cold. Shall we move to the sleeping room?”

  “You better not be sleepy.”

  “Insatiable man.”

  “You have no idea.” He surged to his feet, scooped her up and slung her over his shoulder.

  She drummed his back with her fists. “Put me down!”

  He only laughed and patted her bottom before tossing her on the sleeping platform. She wriggled beneath the covers, drawing them up to her nose.

  “I have something for you.” She heard him rummaging about and guessed he was searching through the carved wooden box where he kept his personal belongings.

  “I’m sure I put it in here,” he muttered. “Aha. Got it.” He climbed beneath the covers.

  She heard him drag in a long, uneven breath. Uh oh. Her heart drummed in her chest. Sounded like this was important.

  “I have a gift for you. Hold out your hand.”

  She sat up but kept her hands tucked in close to her chest. “I do not need a gift from you. You love me. That is all I need.” He’d given her enough already. He was all she needed.

  “Sweet Wisa. I’ve finally found the woman I want to give this to, and she refuses to accept it.” His tone turned serious. “Please. I want you to have it. I need you to have it.”

  “If it is so important to you.” She held out her hand and he dropped something cool and heavy into her palm. A necklace—of small smooth stones, with one much larger stone hanging from it. So frustrating not to be able to see it. “Paint me a picture of the necklace with words, please.”

  “It is made of kuruvindas, which are precious gems of a deep red. The large stone forming the pendant is rare because of its size. It’s very old and has been in my family for generations. My father gave it to me before he died. It was my mother’s.”

  Her breath caught. “It feels beautiful. But the color….”

  “Yes.”

  “A red necklace is given when a man Promises to a woman.”

  “Yes.” He tapped the tip of her nose with a fingertip. “This necklace is a token of my Promise to you. Will you accept it?”

  It was hard to get the words out through the tightness in her throat. “You have not known me long. Weeks.”

  “I’m sure. Are you?”

  “Yes. Yes, I am sure. I will Promise to you.” A tear dripped down her cheek. And another. And she knew in that instant she would never ask Dayamar to send her back to her home-world. She wanted to stay with Blayne—would do anything to stay. Anything. Even face Dayamar’s demons.

  He fastened the necklace around her neck and kissed her, stroking away the tears with his thumbs. “Don’t cry.” He enfolded her in his arms and drew her against his chest
.

  Her tears were for an ending and a new beginning. She would never return to her own world, never again visit her parents’ and brothers’ graves. But she would hold their memories in her heart and never let them go. She sucked in one deep, shuddering breath and banished the tears, embracing the joy instead. “I am sorry.”

  “I was getting a bit soggy.”

  She snuggled closer… and then jerked as the realization slapped her.

  The hand stoking her back stilled. “What are you thinking?”

  “I do not have anything red to give you in return and— Wait. I do have something.” She twisted the ring from her thumb and held it out to him. “This is what we call a ‘signet ring’. The red stone is a ruby. It belonged to my father. My mother gave it to him when they were Joined, as you would say.” She paused, beating back the memories. “It— It became mine after they died.”

  “I’m afraid it won’t fit my thumb.”

  “It is meant to be worn on your ring finger.” She took his left hand and tapped the appropriate finger. “This one.” She waited while he slipped it on, bouncing with impatience. “Does it fit?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you like it?”

  “I’ve admired it often.” He took her hand, fingering her other rings. “These other rings you wear—do they have special meaning, too?”

  “They were my mother’s. This one—” she indicated the diamond solitaire “—was given to her by my father as a token—like for a Promising. And this plain band was given for what you would call their Joining as life-partners. My parents loved each other very much.”

  “I’m proud to wear your father’s ring. I believe he’d be happy you’ve given it to someone who loves his daughter as much as he loved your mother.”

  That comment struck a chord. She chewed her lip. Would her dad have been pleased? Or would he have been concerned she was jumping in feet first? “Blayne, you do not know much about me. And I do not know much about you.”

  “I know many things about you. For instance, you’re unique.”

  “What do you mean?”