They'd barely stepped inside the castle’s interior arch before Jalomar dragged Ramona off to the main hall. He pointed to a bench table and told her to sit before storming away to speak to two of his generals. She decided not to tempt his temper and obeyed quietly. At least for a few minutes. The adrenaline refused to subside; her mind tried to keep time with reality. She had to move, or burst from all the pent-up energy. She waited until he was alone before skipping over to him. “Did you see that shit, Jalo? I mean…fire just shot out of my fingers! What the hell is that about?”
Jalomar shooed her away, pointing to the corner where he’d left her, and continued on with his own business. The room began to fill with soldiers and servants alike, all scurrying to carry out new orders their master was barking out in rapid succession. When she simply crossed her arms and sat down at the bench table closest to him, he turned his back to her and carried on. “Kald! Collect the children from Cynthe in the library and take them to Greselda for the time being. Double the watch on the walls as well as the stables. It seems Gus is going to be down for a few days.”
Her heart lurched. And there is the downer. “Oh dammit. Poor Gus. I nearly forgot. He's going to be okay though, right?”
Jalomar whipped around; his nostril flared. He bent over her, pinning her between himself and the table. “You forgot? That boy nearly lost his life to your shenanigans, milady. The least you could do is remember he was hurt for your cause. And what about Lena? Her body has yet to be found. She may be alive yet, but dying because no one knows where she lies.”
Ramona leaned as far back as she could, scoffing. “It was not my shenanigans that attacked Gus. Or shanked Lena. Or tried to kill Breandra and take the baby. It was your brother and Steele who plotted. You ain't pinning this crap on me, sir!”
He stepped away, mumbling incoherently beneath his breath. “How many times do you plan on running off into the middle of nowhere without telling anyone? Without telling me?”
“That’s what this is about? I didn’t ask your permission to save the kids? I’m the Fiery Maiden, remember? It’s my job to save people and stuff.”
“Aye, you may be the Fiery Maiden, Ramona. But I am your protector. Your guardian. Your lord.”
“My lord? Get over yourself. It's a stupid title.”
He raked a hand through his hair. “You live in my kingdom on my land, therefore I am your lord. You will obey me from this moment on, woman! How do you expect me to complete my task and protect you if you cannot be trusted to think?”
Ramona stood, snorting as she bowed. His caveman ego was getting old. “I humbly apologize to you, My Lord Jackass!”
His deep blue's burned through her. “Why do you despise me?”
She blinked several times. She didn’t hate him, but she’d be damned if she told him so. It would be better for everyone if she just pretended she did hate him. This new world—her new life—was full of so much pain. There was no point in trying to build anything new. Not when some lunatic bitch was out to destroy her, and everything she loved.
He tapped his foot impatiently. “I’m waiting.”
She threw her arms up over her head. “Because…hot and cold!”
He closed the gap between them, an invisible line keeping their bodies from touching. “I need a better excuse than the weather, Ramona.”
“I have plenty of reasons.”
“Do you? Name one.”
She crossed her arms, refusing to back down. “You’re overbearing.”
He shrugged. “You’re frustrating.”
“You’re too bossy.”
“You do not listen.”
“You’re too serious.”
“You’re not serious enough.”
Ramona bit her tongue. Literally.
Jalomar reached for her face, and she flinched. He frowned, pushing a lock of hair from her eyes. “Come, my petite. Do not stay your words now. I want to know all the reasons why you hate and fear me.”
She opened her mouth to tell him the only thing she feared was his ego, but images of her vision caught her off guard—again. Always the same, these flashes branded her brain. Every damn encounter with the warrior resulted in a similar flashback. And now, apparently, anyone who resembled him. “It doesn’t matter. Can’t you just accept that I don’t like you?”
He embraced her. “I don’t believe you, and I am even more certain you don’t believe yourself. What do you want from me, Ramona?”
Sapphire eyes pleaded she answer; she met his gaze with uncertainty. She could no longer deny the attraction she felt toward him no more than she could turn back time. Physically, she wanted him to touch her, to stimulate her like he’d done in her dreams. But mentally, she struggled to accept her new fate. Somehow, she knew her feelings for the warrior guardian were interlaced with her duty as the maiden. Giving into them, even on a pure carnal level, would inevitably kick the prophesy into full motion. She squared her shoulders and pulled away.
“Why do you deny me?” He spoke in a harsh whisper.
She wiggled free of his hold and moved back. “I only deny you what you think is yours.”
For each step she took back, he stepped forward. “Ramona, don’t run from me anymore.”
“I’m…sorry.” She turned and bolted before Jalomar could grab her again.
Moonlight coated the graveyard with an eerie glow. Ramona sat beside the newly marked grave where Megan now rested for an eternity. Alone. She didn’t know how long she'd been there exactly, but the newly fallen dew verified the early morning hours. Sprouts of baby grass poked through the mound of dirt, reminding her of the fresh loss. “Goddamn it, Meg. Why'd you have to go and get yourself murderlized? Do you know how bad this sucks?”
After escaping the castle like the Bogeyman was on her tail, Ramona ended up in Dilseacht’s graveyard, a quarter mile outside the eastern wall. She jumped at every nighttime sound, expecting Jalomar to be close behind with another scolding. But an hour in, she knew he’d not bother her again for the night. Leaning against the squared grave marker, Ramona gave in to a moment of rest and shut her eyes. “So, remember that guy in the forest? His name is Sandread, and he’s hell-bent on claiming me.” She snorted. “Oh, and the best part is he’s also Jalomar’s brother. The sexy, evil, and totally insane brother. Now, I know what you’re gonna say, but it’s not like that. Yeah, there was a little tongue action between me and the hot psycho, but I was only trying to stay alive by using my…er…assets.”
The wind gushed. Ramona pretended it was Meg’s response. “Why didn’t you tell me about him? You didn’t finally do the nasty, did you?”
Ramona blew raspberries into the air. “No, of course I didn’t! But I almost did while imagining it was Jalomar. Ughh! Stupid dreams! Every time I get near Lord Jackass, I see us. You know…doing it. I’ve seriously thought about flipping a quarter on whether I should or not. Well, if I had a freaking quarter. I know what you’re going say, and stop calling me the Virgin Queen. I’m not afraid of having sex. I’m afraid of having sex with the wrong person. Like doing so would condemn me for life. Thanks, Mom, by the way. Dammit, Meg. I’m all kinds of messed up right now. If only you were here to tell me what to do.”
“Do the people of your world often speak to the dead?”
Ramona didn't have to turn around to know the soft voice belonged to Cynthe—the goddess half-breed Vespa the entire castle raved about. “Yeah. It's only insane if you hear them talking back.”
“Tell me of your friend.” Cynthe knelt down beside Ramona, tucking her white satiny robes between her and the Earth. “I am told she was most dear to you.”
“Most dear?” Ramona snorted. “She was all I had left in this shithole. She was more than most dear. She was freakin' everything!”
“I understand. I lost a blood sister many years ago. She too, is buried here.” Cynthe pointed to the left. “The largest stone is where she rests.”
Talk about feeling craptastic. “Sorry about your loss. And I didn
’t mean to be so snappy. What happened to your sister, if it's all right to ask?”
“It has been so long, the pain no longer clouds my soul. Her name was Analah. She was three years my senior. The first, and only one of us three girls, to leave our home and start a family. She birthed Jalomar shortly after. My father was overly pleased by her new life, and the benefits she brought to Dika.”
Ramona tensed. Dika? Sandread. Labelle. Analah, Jalomar's mom. Before she could verbalize the connection, Cynthe nodded.
“Indeed. The same Dika where Labelle and Sandread reside. Jalomar's kin.”
So Cynthe was Jalo's aunt, as was Labelle. And Sandread was the bastard brother…from wherever. Hell maybe? Ramona sighed. Why hadn’t she taken the time to study her own legend and the history behind it? Instead of a picnic that terrible day, she and Meg could have been hitting the books safe inside. At least then she'd have an idea what she's supposed to be doing.
“There is naught you could have done, Maiden. Fate is always victorious in the end.”
Fate is a whore.
Cynthe blushed. “Nay, Fate is merely fickle. Her favor is ever changing.”
What the hell? Ramona crossed her arms. Could the woman read minds?
Cynthe giggled. “Aye, I can. As a half-breed, I can only read the weaker of minds.”
It was Ramona's turn to blush. She threw her arms up. “Are you saying I'm—”
“Nay, Maiden. Not weak. You have not yet learned how to block your mind. I can teach you, if you let me.”
“Okay. Go for it. What's the trick? I'm ready.” This should prove interesting if nothing else. Shit. Stop thinking, dumbass.
A grin tugged at the corner of Cynthe's rose colored lips, but she maintained a placid countenance. “Imagine your mind as an open chest. Simply close the chest, and lock your thoughts inside with a key.”
Ramona closed her eyes. “Okay…” She imagined a shoe box with the lid off. “Now to close it.” She then pictured her hands covering the box with the top. Got it!
“Nay. You do not have it, so to speak.” Cynthe shook her head and frowned. “I told you to envision a chest specifically. I am unsure as to what that little thing is, but it is nay adequate to hide anything of worth. A large chest can hold many secrets. Secrets meant for a powerful being as yourself.”
Apparently giving orders is a family trait.
Cynthe turned her body to face Ramona. Piercing azure eyes sparked knowingly. “Nay, milady. Nay a family trait, but a privilege when one is put in high position. Your aura darkens when you think of Lord Jalomar.”
Ramona stood and dusted her butt free of dirt. “For one, he's not my lord. He's a man. A man with too much power and a god complex, in my opinion. For two, this whole magic alien, future predicting, doomsday shit is way overrated. What the hell am I gonna save the world from anyway? You think I can stop another asteroid? Oh oh, maybe a black hole or a super nova!”
Cynthe rose with the grace of a feline. “As I have said, Fate always finds her way.”
“Tell me what you know of fate?” Ramona snarled. Fate. Destiny. Prophesy. All were words going to the ban list of her vocabulary. “Look at you…so perfect, so fucking sated in this life. Wanna trade places if Fate is such a delight?”
“I would in an instant, Maiden. But I was not chosen for such a grand role as yours. My fate, although intertwined with yours, is naught as amiable.”
Ramona wiped the hair from her face. “Whatever. Wait. What do you mean by that?” Yeah. So should have read those damn books.
Cynthe took Ramona's hands into hers. “I am destined to die. My light will ensure your success.”
Chapter Twenty-three
Breandra gently rocked the baby in her arms as she stared through the thin slit of the barely open door. “Why didn’t you just ask Lord Jalomar's permission to read his books?”
“Aye, milady. Most peculiar,” Greselda chimed in as she straightened up the pile of scattered papers Ramona left on the library desk. “Suspicious to say the least.”
Ramona rolled her eyes as she reached for another book on the shelf. “I don't need either of you here if you're going to keep complaining and distracting me. I told you I needed to do some research. Got to figure this all out without Lord Listen-To-Me-Or-Else standing over my shoulder.”
“Have you considered just listening to make things easier?” Breandra asked.
“Nope.” Ramona grabbed another book. “There’s got to be something I’m missing.”
“What is it you be looking for, milady? I've dusted these shelves for nearly forty years and can locate anything you desire.”
Oh for the love of extinct Twix bars! Ramona whirled around. “Why didn’t you say so sooner? I could have been done by now.”
Greselda harrumphed. “Why did you not ask? Mayhap the lord is correct. You be a mulish lassie. And a sneaky one to boot.”
Breandra shook her dark head, staring down at the babe with a crooked grin. “Oh crap. Here we go, Hope.”
Ramona grit her teeth. Did the old bat really just compare her to him? “I may be stubborn, Gressy. But Lord Jalomar the Jackass isn't a peach either. Perhaps if he didn’t walk around with a broomstick shoved up his ass all the time, I'd be a little less…less…”
“Bitchy?” Breandra finished with a giggle.
“Aye.” Greselda nodded. “That be the right word.”
Ramona pursed her lips, exhaling so hard they vibrated. “God help me if you two are the only friends I have in this world.”
Greselda tsked her tongue. “Is that what you really believe? There is not a soul in Dilseacht who wouldn’t die for you, Maiden. You be the promise of a new era.”
Just great. Now she was the bringer of a new era. Responsibility sucked. Especially when it was shoved down your throat. Ramona flipped through the book in her hands. “I can't find anything I need, or freaking understand.” She wandered to the desk and plopped down in the chair. Her shoulders slumped. She thought of Cynthe's confession—the very reason she now scrounged the library. There had to be a loophole. How was she supposed to stand by and let someone die for her? She couldn’t. “What happens if I just quit? Can't the all mighty Vespa just pick a new maiden? Write a new prophesy with a happy fucking ending?”
Breandra scowled. “It doesn’t work that way. Remember when we were trapped beneath the building for those three terrifying days? When I sat in the corner with my dead mom?” A stream of tears slipped down her reddened cheeks. “You told me everything would be okay. You promised you'd keep me and my sister safe. So how can you give up now?”
Oh, how she remembered too well. “Dang it, honey. I wish it had all worked out differently. But I did get you to safety. Both you and Hope are alive and well, and—”
“But we're not safe! That crazy sorceress is out there, trying to kill you and everyone you know! It's crazy to believe, I know. But we aren’t safe yet!” Breandra's body shook as she sobbed harder. “We aren’t safe yet, Ramona!”
Slam. Right in the face as if someone had just stabbed her in the forehead. Her vision blurred, the ground beneath her rippled in and out of existence. She fell forward from the chair; her hands covered her temples as she struggled through the pain. She heard Greselda and Breandra calling her name, but their voices became distant, as if they were shouting from the far side of a ravine. Forcing herself to sit upright, she opened her eyes.
White sand dominated the landscape as far as she could see. The only exception being the chair beneath her. “What the…Sahara?” She stood on wobbly legs, cupping her hands around her mouth like a megaphone. “Hello?”
“Welcome, Maiden.”
Ramona spun around, coming face-to-face with Azer, the High Priest of the Vespa. The bringer of bad news and magical big screen televisions. She crossed her arms over her chest. “What do you want now?”
Azer bowed. “It was you who summoned me.”
“No, I didn’t. Honestly, you creep me out with your parlor tricks.” And w
eird blue skin. He cocked a white brow, and Ramona realized he’d heard her thoughts.
“Has Cynthe not taught you how to control your thoughts yet?”
“The box…er chest thing? Yeah. She tried, but apparently I'm a slow learner. Hey, why isn't she blue?”
“Only the most powerful of Vespa are stained with the majik gifted by the Magi.”
Ramona chewed at her bottom lip. “I'm not gonna turn colors, right?”
Azer laughed as if she’d just rattled off the funniest joke in the world. “Nay. Although your majik comes from your birth mother, your blood is diluted with humanity from your father.”
I'm a half-breed?
“Aye, you are. Your mother's name was Lyrene, and she holds the position I do now in the far future. She traveled through the time stream when you were but minutes old to escape the treachery of Labelle's futuristic bloodline.”
Ramona shook her head. What? No. No. No. Her accelerated heartbeat pounded in her ears. “You lie. Why are you lying? And stop reading my mind!”
“As you wish. But I do not lie. I can show you, if you wish?”
“Leave me alone!” Ramona backed away, nearly tripping over the forgotten chair. Ridiculous. Unbelievable. Twisted. I am human! All. Human. I’m not one of those things. Azer frowned, no doubt accessing her thoughts again. Mother fucker. Get out! She fell to her knees. “I don't want to be here anymore!”
He bowed, vanishing without leaving even a footprint in the sand to prove he'd ever been there. Ramona closed her eyes tightly and wished herself to return to the library. Maybe she should click her heels together three times and wish for New York instead?
“Ramona. Ramona! Can you hear me?”
She jerked violently as her conscience crossed the thin veil between waking and dreaming. Someone pinned her shoulders, their weight pushing her hard against the floor.
“Wake up,” they coaxed with a gentle, yet firm tone.
Ramona blinked several times before fully opening her eyes. Jalomar released a heavy sigh. “Where did you go? You caused us a moment of fright.”
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