Charmed Destinies

by Catherine Asaro

  “Sorry, Princess, but it doesn’t matter whether you care. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re trapped.” He pointed toward the water. “And it’s getting closer.”

  A wet splash on her wrist was all the confirmation she needed.

  Drusilla jerked back from her keyboard, looking at the water drops on her wrist. A moment later, something heavy and wet snaked around her ankle.

  Cal was leaning over the cubicle top, laughing at her. “Boy, you sure are out of it tonight. Olsen here has been telling you to move.”

  She swung her chair around and looked into the face of the night janitor, who was swinging a string mop around her cubicle as if she wasn’t even there.

  “You got me wet,” she said.

  He looked up at her, his face annoyed. “Not my problem. Next time, don’t get in my way.”

  Cal laughed again. Frustrated, Drusilla refused to leave her cubicle. Instead, she turned around and resumed typing data. This night couldn’t end soon enough. Even her sanity-saving daydream wasn’t going her way.

  “The water will ebb in a minute,” she told Miles, once again firmly planted on the hilltop with him, the horses, and Zeke and Tertio.

  “How do you know?” Miles asked.

  “Because something got into my world that shouldn’t have. It’ll go away.”

  He looked at her, brows lifted. “Like this is your world? Only yours? Isn’t that just a bit egotistical?”

  She scowled at him.

  “Oh, yeah, a real princess,” he said sarcastically. “Like this isn’t my world, too.”

  With a sigh, she gave up. Clearly things weren’t going to go her way. None of them. For whatever reason, events were taking on a life of their own.

  “I mean,” he said, leaning toward her, “I’m here, too, Princess, oh high-and-mighty one.”

  “Will you cut it out?”

  “Why should I? Just because you happened to be born in a palace doesn’t make the rest of us mere ciphers. And surprise, surprise, we don’t always do what you think we should.”

  Instead of feeling stung, she merely felt sad. Very sad. When she looked at him, she could feel her eyes burning. “Life almost never does what I want. Nor do the people in it.”

  His mouth was open, as if he were about to continue his tirade, but the words never came. His expression changed, annoyance slipping away, gentleness moving in.

  “It seems that way sometimes, doesn’t it?”

  “Most of the time, if you want the truth. I just figured my big adventure ought to go my way just a little.”

  “It will,” he promised, suddenly all heroic and firm. “We’ll find that key of yours.”

  “It’s not your problem, you know.”

  “Of course it is. I made it my problem. Besides, I have a Behemoth to tame.” He smiled. “We’ll do this together.”

  “Why?”

  “Just cuz.”

  Then, without so much as a by-your-leave, he scooted over beside her and put his arm around her shoulders.

  “You’re a pretty good princess,” he said bracingly. “I realize I haven’t known you that long, but it’s obvious, anyway. I mean, you’re willing to put your life on the line for Morgania.”

  She didn’t know how to reply to that.

  “You could just have chosen to stay home and marry a prince.”

  “Gag me with a spoon,” she said.

  He laughed. “Not a homebody?”

  “Not me. It’s not that I object to the idea of a prince someday, but I’m not gonna hang around the castle and supervise the maids.”

  “Exactly. You’ll be an active ruler. A partner in Morgania. You’ll take care of your people.”

  She looked up at him, wondering why he was saying these things. “It’s my job,” she said finally.

  He nodded solemnly. “The really good people in the world never make sacrifices.”

  Startled, she almost pulled away. “What does that mean?”

  He touched her chin with his finger, a warm, gentle touch that made her want to fling herself into his arms. “What that means,” he said, “is that the good people do what’s needed and never see it as a sacrifice…even when others would.”

  “Oh.” She still didn’t know how to take that. But she didn’t have time to think about it, anyway. Because his head was lowering and his face was swimming closer, and she realized that she was about to be kissed by a man.

  A real man. Not the childish gropings of her boyfriends from school, but the knowledgeable, knowing kiss of a man.

  Her heart quivered and something deep in her belly quivered, and her quest and the river suddenly seemed far, far away.

  In fact, it was receding a bit. She looked furtively around and realized that Zeke and Tertio were nowhere in sight. Which meant they couldn’t save her. Then she looked at Miles again.

  “I don’t usually move so fast,” he said.

  “Move?” Her heart began hammering like a wild thing.

  “Um…” He seemed to realize that was a mistake, but it was already too late as far as Drusilla was concerned.

  She scooted away from him. “Move? Move? Is that what you’re doing? Making a move?”

  He winced. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “You’re just like all the rest. Moves and scores, like a woman is nothing but a goal post.”

  His eyes widened, then a snicker escaped him.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “I didn’t mean it that way at all. But now that you mention it, it does sound funny.”

  She glared at him and considered chopping his head off with her sword, but the fact was, she wasn’t really as bloodthirsty as that, and besides, she needed him to tame the Behemoth…if they ever found it.

  “You’re disgusting,” she said.

  “No, I’m not. I was simply apologizing.”

  Her jaw dropped. “Do you think I’m stupid?”

  “Not at all, Princess.”

  “Yeah, right.” She folded her arms and looked at the river. It was subsiding, but not fast enough to please her.

  “Really.” His voice was a purr, and it was coming from way too close. She hunched her shoulders, trying to hold him at bay.

  “Princess,” he said, “I wasn’t making a move on you. I was trying to say that…well…I was getting carried away. I usually wait until I’ve dated someone to decide whether to kiss her. I…just wanted you to know that I don’t kiss every woman I meet the first time I set eyes on her.”

  She pursed her lips, not wanting to believe him. And also wanting to. Mixed up, in short.

  “Really,” he said again. “I’m sorry I offended you. I just wanted to kiss you so bad….”

  If there was a woman on the planet, this one or the real one, who could resist that, it wasn’t Drusilla. Reluctantly, almost shyly, she looked at him fr
om the corner of her eye. Not many men had wanted to kiss her in her life, and most of those had had their eye on the goal post.

  “No scores,” she said.

  “Hell no. What do you think? That I notch my bedpost? I just wanted to kiss you. Really, really wanted to kiss you. Although at this point, I’m beginning to wonder why.”

  That stung. She turned her head, looking at him fully. And once again his face softened.

  He touched her hair ever so lightly, sending a quiver through her. “You haven’t been treated very well, have you.”

  It didn’t sound like a question, so she was relieved not to have to answer it.

  “I’m sorry.” His voice was suddenly low, husky, his breath a warm caress on her cheek. “I guess, being a princess, people want you for all the wrong reasons. That’s terrible. But…I just want a kiss. Just a little one, if that’s okay?”

  Before she could answer, he took matters into his own hands. His warm lips touched hers, light as a butterfly’s wings, the merest brush.

  But the effect on her was as huge as if he’d set off a bomb in her center. She quivered. She thrilled. She ached.

  And she wanted more.

  It was impossible to know who moved, but all of a sudden their lips were melding, pressing, caressing. Everything inside her turned soft, compliant, yielding.

  And when his arms locked around her, she felt she was in the safest place on earth.

  They broke apart, just an inch or two. He looked as startled as she felt. Then they came together again, the kiss deepening, a promise of greater things to come.

  Drusilla’s fingers dug into his back, clinging to leather and cloth, wanting to get as close as she could. Needing to be closer still. Aching for things she could barely imagine.

  All thoughts of her quest vanished, all thoughts of the river, Krusti Olfard, her dad, everything just flew from her head. This moment, this very now, was all that existed.

  “Ahem.”

  They jolted apart and looked around. No one was there.

  “Did you hear that?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  “Ahem.”

  “Miss Morgan,” said a stern voice, “you’re not typing.”

  Drusilla jumped and looked around to discover that the shift supervisor was standing at the entry to her cubicle.

  He was a thin man with a long funereal face.

  “I’m sorry?” she said, confused.

  “Miss Morgan, I’ve been alerted to the fact that you haven’t entered data in the last five minutes.”

  Damn that computer upstairs. Damn the keeper of that computer.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Wise. I’m…having a cramp.”

  “In your hand?”

  “Uh, no.”

  The excuse had the desired effect. His face reddened, and he began to back up. “Do you need to go home?”

  “No, sir. I, uh, took something for it.”

  He nodded quickly. “Very well. Very well. Do what you can….”

  He fled.

  Drusilla would have laughed, except that he might hear her. Except that she was really annoyed he had disturbed her daydream.

  On the other hand, getting so involved in a daydream that she forgot to do her work wasn’t a good thing. She didn’t want to lose her job.

  Sternly telling herself to pay attention to the numbers and skip the fantasy for the rest of the night, she put her fingers to the keys again, located her place and began typing.

  The fantasy, however, would not be banished….

  “Time to move,” Miles said briskly. “The river’s down. And I don’t like hearing things that aren’t there. Some wizard has his sights on us for sure.”

  Reluctantly, Drusilla got to her feet. “But why? We haven’t done anything yet.”

  “I’m beginning to wonder if word hasn’t gone out that you’re looking for the key.”

  Their gazes met, and at once she felt a thrill and a chill. “But no one should know. I only told my dad, Zeke and Tertio, and you.”

  That last suddenly seemed powerfully significant. All the good feelings his kiss had given her began to drain away.

  He looked indignant. “Who the hell would I have told? I haven’t been away from you for a minute since we met.”

  “True.” She sighed and looked at the ground beneath her feet. “This isn’t going at all the way I thought it would.”

  “Nothing ever does.” He sighed. “But somebody else is paying attention to what we’re doing. This is one coincidence too many. Voices in the air. Sheesh.”

  Zeke and Tertio returned then, marching steadily over the brow of the hill. “The river’s passable, Princess,” Zeke said. “We can go now.”

  “It’d be better if I knew where to go,” she said, feeling inexplicably sad, as if something had been lost.

  “Well,” said Miles, “there’s a rumor of a Behemoth over on Mount Ayth.”

  “Really?”

  He nodded. “I was headed in that general direction. It’d be a good starting place. I know there are caves big enough on Ayth.”

  So that was the way they set out, wading through the almost dry River Mopenwachs and through the dark wood beyond.

  5

  The forest gave way into a narrow, twisting canyon. Its walls seemed to lean in on them, as if the earth itself were looking for an opportunity to swallow them. Zeke and Tertio halted their mounts.

  “Is this safe, Princess?” Tertio asked. His face clearly said, I don’t think so.

  “People travel this canyon all the time,” Miles said. “It’s the only way to Mount Ayth.”

  Tertio didn’t look convinced and nudged Zeke. “I hate canyons. I’m bathophobic.”

  Zeke sniffed. “I can tell.”

  Tertio punched his arm. “No, dummy. Bathophobia is a fear of depths. Canyons, wells, things like that give me extreme anxiety attacks.”

  “So do bathtubs, apparently,” Zeke muttered, rubbing his arm.

  “How extreme?” Drusilla asked, seeing the sheen of sweat that had already broken out on Tertio’s face. He was supposed to be among the bravest soldiers in her father’s army. Like everything else in this fantasy, this was not working the way she’d planned.

  Tertio looked down, humbled. “Um, nausea, shortness of breath. One of the palace wizards gave me spells for it, but I’ve run out.”

  Drusilla thought for a long moment. She’d hoped for protection, but it would be a cruel abuse of power to force him to go on. She would hate herself if something happened to him. Finally she drew a deep breath.

  “Zeke, please accompany Tertio back to the castle. You know your way back through the forest, right?”

  Zeke nodded, looking a bit dismayed, as if he didn’t want to return to the workaday world of castle guarding. Then his eyes twinkled. “Yes, Princess, I do. Maybe I can even get him to wash off in the river along the way.”

 
“It’s not about baths!” Tertio said, punching his arm again. “It’s about depths.”

  “So take a shallow bath,” Zeke said. “Soon.”

  To Tertio’s apparent relief, the two turned their mounts and headed back for home.

  “Tell my father I’m okay!” Drusilla called to them.

  And then she and Miles were alone….

  From ahead came a low, thudding rumble.

  …or not.

  “I brought you a soda,” Cal said. “You look like you need serious caffeine.”

  Drusilla turned to face him. What was his problem tonight? “Cal…”

  “Drusilla…you’re not right tonight. You’re not yourself.”

  “I’m tired and busy,” she said simply.

  “Maybe. But you’re almost dozing off at your desk. And the shift supervisor keeps looking over here. So…what’s wrong?”

  The shame of it was, he cared. But she didn’t. Not that way. And she knew his type…express even mild friendship and he would read it as an invitation to more. She let out a quiet sigh.

  “Cal, please?”

  “I’m just trying to help,” he said, looking like a lost puppy that had been caught in the rain.

  “I know you are. But it’s really better for both of us if you don’t. You’d get nothing but hurt, and I’d rather not do that.”

  He nodded. “Will you at least accept the soda?”

  “What was that?” Drusilla whispered.

  “Unless I miss my guess,” Miles said, “it’s the Kolakul.”

  “Tell me you’re joking.”

  He shook his head. He’d heard that sound far too many times to mistake it. A welcoming glow to seduce passersby, then the rumbling, interrupted thudding as it stole one coin after another. In theory, the Kolakul would discharge a shiny, metallic egg when a passerby offered it coins. In practice, it simply took the coins, answering the pleas for eggs with its deep, interrupted laugh. The laugh they’d just heard. And they needed the nourishment of its eggs, without which it would be all but impossible to climb Mount Ayth and capture the Behemoth.