by Boone Brux
One of the men gave a quick bow. “He thought you might appreciate the convenience of his horses after your voyage.”
“How thoughtful.” Luc gifted the men with his flawless smile. “And our baggage?”
“We will see to it.” The blond-haired man pointed to three black stallions on the small rise above the docks. “The horses are there.”
“He sent his best?” Luc said.
Rhys smirked. “He’s never one for subtlety.”
“It’s very thoughtful of him,” Ravyn said.
“My father is a bully. That’s why he sent his horses and an escort. To make sure we arrive in a timely manner.” He placed a hand on Ravyn’s shoulder. “You’re far too naïve.”
“I am not.” She was getting tired of Luc and Rhys thinking she was still the scared girl Rhys had saved from the abbey.
Luc held up his hands in surrender. “All right, you’re cold and jaded.”
“Somebody mention my name?”
They turned to see Jade descending the walkway. Soft nips played along Ravyn’s arms, but she shook off the feeling. Even though she’d trained at Alba Haven, her demon senses obviously needed a bit more honing. Jade had proven herself last night. Nobody in league with the Bane would have risked her life as she had.
“How are you feeling?” Ravyn said.
Last night’s tumble into the wine barrel showed in the dark shadows puddled beneath her eyes and her ashen complexion. She smiled at Rhys and Ravyn but completely ignored Luc.
“I’ll live. You?”
“The same. Where are you staying? You could come with us,” Ravyn offered.
She liked the idea of having a female ally, and she was more than a little curious about Jade and her relationship with the demon. Too many mysteries surrounded the woman for Ravyn’s liking.
Jade’s gaze slanted toward Luc. “I’m staying with friends.”
“You should come with us.” Ravyn said.
“You’re always welcome,” Rhys added.
“Thank you, no. I have other obligations.” She paused. “But perhaps I’ll visit later.
Relief washed through Ravyn. “Please try. It will be nice to see a friendly face.”
Jade’s glance shot to Luc and away again. She stepped past the three of them and set her bag on the ground. “I’ll call on you soon.”
“Do you know how to get to Illuma Grand?” Ravyn said.
“Yes.”
She stepped forward and hugged Jade. “Thank you for every-thing.”
Jade gave her a quick squeeze and stepped back. “Well.”
She leaned to pick up her bag but Luc beat her to it. He flung the pack over his shoulder. “I’ll carry your bag.”
“You’re not carrying my bag.” Her tone was even, but it held a definite threat.
Luc turned to Rhys. “I’ll meet you at Illuma later. I’m going to see Jade safely to her friends.”
“No you’re not.” Jade yanked on the strap of her bag. “I don’t need an escort.”
He glared at her. “You’re no longer dressed as a man. It’s not safe or proper to walk the streets like a common whore.”
”Luc,” Ravyn said, “I’m sure we’re all concerned about Jade, but I think our worries are…” She gave him a meaningful stare, willing him to understand. “Unfounded.”
His gaze slid to her. “I’m not so easily convinced.”
“Listen, you ass. If I want to walk the streets like a two-bit doxy, that’s my business. I don’t need an escort.”
People stared and whispered, slowing to watch the arguing couple as they passed. The two men from Illuma Grand shifted uncomfortably as the quarrel escalated.
Luc jerked the bag out of Jade’s grip. “Yes, you do.”
“Fine, then I don’t need you to escort me,” she yelled.
“Too damn bad. You’ve got me.” Without a backward glance, he marched down the dock, leaving Jade to stare after him.
She stomped her foot and roared in frustration. With a stiff spine she stalked after Luc. “Overbearing ass.”
Ravyn looked at Rhys. “Who do you think will win that battle?”
He smirked. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
She watched the warring couple weave along the wharf. Jade gave several furious yanks on the strap of her pack but to no avail. Luc held fast and appeared unfazed by her haranguing.
Ravyn shook her head. “I can’t tell if they like or hate each other.”
“It’s a very fine line.”
She furrowed her brow. “Meaning?”
“Meaning, both emotions evoke a powerful reaction. It’s sometimes hard to distinguish love from hate.”
He placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her down the dock. Warmth flooded her body. Some of her self-doubt eased with his touch. He didn’t appear angry with her and now that they were on dry land he seemed a bit more relaxed.
Her legs felt wobbly, as if the ground moved beneath her feet. Rhys had told her this might happen but she hadn’t completely understood. She smiled at the new experience.
They accepted the reins from the two boys who waited with the horses, and mounted. Rhys took the lead as they picked their way along the road, around carts, and through the throngs of pedestrians. Ravyn didn’t know if she’d ever become accustomed to being surrounded by so many people. Alba was crowded but Faela boasted three times the population. The city was second in size to only Itta, Inness’s largest city.
An inkling of a headache drummed at the base of her skull. She reinforced the shields around her mind, blocking out the din. Men watched her pass, their stares hungry. Unease seeped into her bones and she guided her horse as close to Rhys’s as possible. She almost wished she’d worn a gown instead of her leathers.
The crowds thinned, and she kicked her horse forward to ride next to Rhys. “So, what should I expect?”
He stared straight ahead. “Formality.”
She smirked. Now that was ironic. She focused on the scenery around her, hoping to appear equally as practical. “Formality?”
“That’s why they don’t like me.”
“Because you’re not proper?”
It was his turn to smirk. “Some of the Council don’t like my methods.”
“Which are?”
He glanced at her. “Which don’t involve a thousand meetings and several hundred committees to get something done.”
“A man of action.”
“If you had to label me,” he conceded.
She mustered her courage to ask the question that had been pressing on her all morning. “Rhys?”
He didn’t look at her. “Yes.”
“Are you angry with me?”
She bit her lower lip, almost hating to hear the answer. He hadn’t come to bed last night and had been aloof all morning. She couldn’t stand the thought of being the cause. He exhaled as if resigning himself to an unpleasant task.
“No, I’m not angry with you.” He still didn’t look at her. “I’m angry with myself.”
“Why?” She willed him to look at her.
He turned his head and stared at her. She mentally flinched. Self-loathing, pain, acceptance, each emotion burned in his gaze.
“For forgetting my responsibilities.” He sighed and looked away. “For allowing myself to care.”
Ravyn wasn’t sure she should be happy or heartbroken. “What are you saying?”
His chin lifted slightly. “I was wrong to foster a relationship between us. I shouldn’t have let it go this far.”
Her reaction tumbled toward heartbroken. She swallowed against her tightening throat and blinked away the burn of tears. “Why?”
It was the only word she could form and it came out in a breathless waver.
“I was wrong to think I could protect and care for someone at the same time.” He looked at her and she saw the stubborn set of his jaw. “I can’t.”
“So we should pretend that we never—never?”
She couldn’t s
ay the words. Up until that moment she’d known she would never regret being with Rhys, but his words somehow made her feel foolish and unclean. His expression softened a fraction but not enough to give her hope he might change his mind.
“I’m sorry,” was all he said and looked away.
She stared at his profile for several seconds, letting his words sink in. Maybe Luc was right. She was too naïve. She sniffed and straightened her spine. “Me too.”
They rode in silence most of the way. If only they’d stayed at Alba Haven, safe and away from outside interference. But they weren’t home and they had a mission to do and Bringers to help. She’d spent all her life pretending harsh words and taunts didn’t bother her. What was one more? Strange how Rhys’s rejection weighed so much heavier than all the barbs the Sisters had cast at her while in the abbey.
The silence grew awkward and she stilled herself from demanding more answers. She wouldn’t beg for his affection. But not being with Rhys left a big hole in her future. Where would she go? Being around him at Alba Haven might be too painful to endure day after day. Perhaps she should be like him and put duty before all else.
Her thoughts turned to the impending battle with the Bane. She wanted to ask him if he’d read his father’s journal yet, but the question now felt too personal. He hadn’t said anything about it since they’d left the inn. Did he treat the diary the same way he was treating her, pushing it aside because to deal with the situation was too painful?
She struggled for a neutral subject. “Will the Council be hostile?”
He stared intently at the road ahead. “Some, but not all. Many of the Council use Bringers for their own gain. I have no doubt they’ll attempt the same with you.”
A shiver rippled through her and the hair on the back of her neck pricked at the thought of being manipulated. How could the Bringers of Illuma Grand be so different than those at Alba Haven?
Unaware of her increasing fear, he continued. “Be careful what you say and to whom.”
“You’ve made this mission sound completely unpleasant,” she said, trying to lighten the mood.
Her attempt failed. His expression remained serious. “I’d hate for you to drop your guard and trust the wrong people.”
She bit the inside of her cheek to stop her retort. Did he believe her incapable of distinguishing friend from foe? “Well, I guess I’m lucky to have you here to protect me.”
Rhys didn’t respond, but she noticed the slight clench in his jaw. It appeared she’d hit a nerve.
The sprawl of the bustling city shifted and spread to open fields and farms. Rolling hills and trees replaced the press of stacked and crowded buildings, and the street diminished to a one-lane, rutted road as they left the city limits of Faela.
Ravyn inhaled, able to breathe again, and followed Rhys as he guided his horse off the main roadway and onto another narrow path. Beyond a grove of trees the road widened. He straightened in the saddle and scowled as the first buildings came into view.
Illuma Grand was aptly named. They traveled through a massive stone and metal archway, and the natural tangle of the woods smoothed into organized orchards and gardens. Small, gray stone buildings dotted their course, and people bustled along rock paths. Each person wore the same drab gray clothing.
Well, she certainly wouldn’t blend in.
Ravyn stared at the workers. They reminded her of the ants she’d spent hours watching as a girl, all with single-minded focus as they scurried to do their tasks. “Are all these people Bringers?”
“Yes, mixed-bloods. Most possess some talent, but none have the powers we do.”
She watched a woman with an armload of rolled-up parchments hurry down the path toward one of the small stone buildings. Ravyn wondered how different she was from the rest of these people. “They’re very…stiff?”
He smiled. “Formal.”
She glanced at him, frowning.
“They’re the epitome of procedures and rules. None know what it’s like to act on instinct.”
A man in a strange wagon moved across the path in front of them. He pedaled the contraption, moving the wagon forward as another man removed small shrubs from the bed of the vehicle and strategically placed them on the ground. Gardeners, perhaps?
“What is the purpose of the Illuma Grand Bringers?”
Irritation laced his voice when he replied. “An excellent question. Please enlighten me if you ever discover the answer.”
She frowned and scanned the open grounds they rode along. “Under what guise do they operate? This is a massive estate, and I thought the Bringers demanded anonymity to promote their legend. But these Bringers seem to mingle openly in Faela.”
“As I’ve said, many Bringers have misguided ideas.” He held his arms wide. “They think it’s their mission to be businessmen or public stewards and to ignore the Bane.” He lowered his arms. “So much of our history has been lost. We’re no longer warriors, but social servants. Eventually, the Bane will overrun Inness and all the good intentions in the world won’t stop the demons or save the humans.”
“Or us,” she added.
He raised a brow. “Or us.”
She contemplated the ramifications of what he said. How does somebody change an attitude that’s been set for centuries? “What are the chances of enlisting help from some of the Bringers at Illuma Grand?”
He smirked. “Not everybody is happy with the Council. Our informer mentioned rumblings.” He paused. “Unfortunately, those discontented Bringers are now missing.”
Cold dread washed through her. “Bane?”
He shrugged. “The Bane, the Council…that’s what we’re here to find out.”
They stopped the horses in front of a set of wide, flat steps that spread along the front of the building. White marble pillars reached to the sky and kissed the soaring roofline of the palatial structure. Two men dressed in identical gray tunics jogged down the stairs and took the reins. They bowed but didn’t speak.
Ravyn glanced at Rhys in question.
“Jacob Le Daun.” Rhys stated the name as if that should explain everything, and slid off the horse. He helped her from the mount and guided her up the steps. His touch held none of its normal warmth, but instead felt stiff, as if he preferred not to touch her at all. She had the sudden longing to be home, but squashed the thought, not sure where home was anymore.
Chapter Twenty-two
Most everything about Illuma Grand was brisk and sharp, including the manicured lawn, the hedges, and the people. Immaculate walkways gleamed in the sunshine, and white marble statues of curvaceous women and straight-nosed men blended with their pristine surroundings. Not a single leaf littered the ground, and not a single blade of grass tilted at the wrong angle.
“Illuma Grand is very…” She struggled for the right word. “Crisp.”
Rhys smiled but didn’t look at her. “An apt description.”
She yanked on the bottom of her tunic. “They’re going to love me.”
He ran his gaze down her body, his eyes holding not a hint of emotion. “Yes.”
They turned a corner and entered a crowded courtyard. Ravyn’s step faltered as the people stopped and openly gawked at her and Rhys. Of course, the residents of Illuma would stare at Rhys. His handsomeness and raw presence naturally drew everybody’s attention. A twinge of jealousy bit at her. Several seconds passed before she realized the stares didn’t stray to him, but scrutinized her with rude curiosity.
She hunched toward him and away from the crowd, watching for signs of hostility. “They’re staring.”
His posture was stiff. “Your outfit.”
Was he embarrassed by her? Ravyn glanced down and then back to the bystanders. Every woman wore a practical gray gown, none of which sported embellishments, jewels, or even a weapon.
Several whispered behind their hands, and all openly stared.
“Well, this is rather awkward,” she said under her breath.
He didn’t respond. She won
dered if he was enjoying her discomfort. He’d made it clear he didn’t like her leathers. Well too bad, she wasn’t going to change, no matter how uncomfortable these Bringers made her feel. She’d survived three demon attacks, and there was nothing worse these people could do to her.
Feeling defensive, Ravyn’s mood darkened. She cast about, her gaze falling onto a few male onlookers. Their expressions seemed anything but hostile. Butterflies tumbled in her stomach as one of them winked at her.
“Stop staring,” Rhys growled.
The pressure on her lower back increased and he quickened their pace.
“I wasn’t staring, they were.”
“Sainted Ones, give me strength,” he mumbled and propelled her forward.
A tall, golden-haired man strode toward them. Ravyn knew him before he spoke. Brilliant blue eyes framed an older version of Luc’s face. He stopped and waited for their approach.
“Lord Blackwell,” he said, loud enough for all the spectators to hear. “It is so good to see you.”
Rhys smiled and grasped the older man’s forearms. “Jacob, you’re looking well. Haven’t lost any of your flair.”
“I simply give them what they want. Gets boring here,” he said in a quiet voice. Jacob Le Daun was every bit as handsome as his son. He turned and gave Ravyn a low bow. “Lady Mayfield, you do us great honor with your presence.”
“Thank you, my lord. I’m pleased to be here.”
He gave her a look that said he knew better. “Come. I’ll show you to your quarters.” He led them down the wide corridor and past the gawking spectators. “Where is my wayward son?”
“Luc will join us shortly,” Rhys said.
“Off on some fool’s errand, I suspect.”
Rhys cleared his throat. “Time will tell.”
“A girl?”
“Something like that.”
“He’ll never change.” Jacob sighed. “Should be glad he comes to visit at all.” He looked at Ravyn. “Even if it’s for reasons other than to see his father.”
She gave him a weak smile, unsure how to respond. There were obviously things between Luc and his father. Whether they were problems or merely a father’s concerns, she couldn’t tell.