In the Garden of Gold & Stone

by Ryan Muree

  Drathella tried to wrench her hand free.

  He didn’t loosen his grip.

  Drathella’s dark blue gaze slid to her. “Brynn will lose her mind when I tell her—”

  “Tell her what, exactly?” He leaned over in an attempt to block Drathella’s view. “Tell her how you stormed in where you weren’t wanted and threatened to hit the queen’s sister?”

  “You touched the buds. Both of you. You” — she eyed Nida — “are a traitor to this temple.”

  “What’s wrong with touching the flowers?” Rowec asked, his hand still holding Drathella’s wrist but higher. Every inch he lifted, she had to stretch higher on her toes, losing some of her control, her strength.

  Drathella’s gaze jumped back and forth between them. “They cannot be disturbed. They—”

  “They will be my family, too, I believe,” Rowec said.

  If Drathella could crawl out of her skin, she would have. Even Nida recoiled at Rowec’s response. There was no way Drathella would accept that answer.

  “How dare you!” Drathella’s nostrils flared as she lifted her free hand, claws out.

  Rowec caught the second hand and twisted her around until both were behind her back. She was completely under his control.

  Nida swallowed. She didn’t truly fear what he could do to Drathella. He would have killed her before if he’d wanted to. But his strength. His sense of control over it. A calming nature oozed out of him. He resonated power, real power, not fistfuls of it like her sister tended to grab.

  He was in his element. This was something he had done several times. Fighting? War? He had said he was his village’s lead warrior. Maybe Drathella wasn’t exactly an equal, but his composure and confidence matched his claim.

  And it was all to protect her. Her heart skipped a beat.

  “They are my sisters!” she shrieked. “They are Tialan. Not human—”

  “Oh, we both know that’s not true. Now, I don’t know about your culture and customs, but in mine, the young are cherished. We talk to them, we sing to them, we hold them. What you saw when you walked in here was me understanding what your queen is asking of me—”

  “You expect me to believe that—ah!”

  He jerked his hands and squeezed her tighter. His knuckles had gone white. “I snuck in here, I demanded she tell me what’s going on, and I suggested we hold the flowers.”

  He was lying for her.

  Drathella growled. “You worthless skin-bag of—”

  “Considering the fact you need my worthless skin-bag to save these sisters you pretend to care and worry about so much, I’m going to ignore your insults and tell you what you’re going to do instead.” He leaned in close, lips near her temple. “You’re going to leave and never come into this room again unless Nida gives you permission—”

  “You don’t make the rules in our temple!”

  “If you break this rule,” he continued as if she hadn’t said a word, “I’ll tell Brynntial how much you like to mistreat your sisters and me, and I will walk out and leave them all to die.”

  Nida’s heart plummeted. There was no way Drathella would keep that promise. And what about all the things he’d just said about “staying no matter what?”

  Drathella grunted.

  He squeezed her arms back tighter. “Do you understand me?”

  Without a peep, she nodded furiously.

  He let her go by shoving her toward the doors.

  Drathella wheeled her arms as she dashed through and out of the garden, surely to tell Brynn what had just happened.

  Nida took a deep breath. What he’d done for her, what he’d said… “Rowec, I—”

  He spun and put his hands on her shoulders. “Are you okay?”

  His grip startled her; it was firm but careful. She blinked once. Twice. “Y-yes, I’m fine. You stopped her before she—”

  “Don’t ever let her try to hurt you again, please.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t really get a choice.”

  “You do. Don’t take that from her. If she touches one… one scale on you, I’ll—”

  “You’ll what? You told her you’d leave if she comes back—”

  “I was lying, Nida.” He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. “First of all, I already promised you I’m staying no matter what. And let’s not forget that your bigger sisters would tie me up before I even make it out the front door.” He took a step closer and lifted his hand to her chin. “I just said it to scare her.”

  Too close. He was too close. If she let herself stay there like that with him, she’d betray Brynn. And if Brynn found out… No. Brynn wouldn’t risk losing the sisters this close to the hatching. She couldn’t… right?

  But she wasn’t supposed to have a mate or a human pet as Ascara had put it. She was not to fall in love… and yet, he was touching her chin, standing close enough that she could smell the fruits he had eaten earlier, mixed with a rustic note.

  “She won’t believe you.” She swallowed. She hadn’t stepped back. She hadn’t pulled away, and she had better. Soon. Before she… before she…

  Her arms and hands lifted to rest against his chest and stomach, as solid as the Tialan rock around them. She fought the urge to place her head against him there, to be as close as possible.

  She wanted to tell him how badly she wanted to be with him. Seeing him had become the best part of her day, and he clearly enjoyed being with her.

  “Doesn’t matter,” he whispered. “We just need the queen to believe me.”

  She nodded. That was true. Brynn could keep Drathella in her place.

  His fingers hadn’t left her face. In fact, they traveled. They caressed her cheek, her ear. He grazed the few teal scales by her temple with the back of his hand, and they sparked with a tingling that ran all the way down to her toes. There was no moving. There was no saying no. She wanted to be with him. She wanted to be in his arms…

  He pulled away. “I meant what I said, Nida. No matter what, I’ll help you.”

  The warmth of him that she hadn’t noticed before was now gone. It followed him as he headed for the doors of the hatchery.

  She bounded over her sisters to him, running after him. She wasn’t ready for him to leave yet. “I’ll get you back to your room. If anyone sees us, I’ll just say I took you on a tour.”

  He stopped, one hand on the door. “This festival you mentioned before…”

  She nodded.

  “Will you… Will you be at the festival?”

  She furled her eyebrows and smirked. “Of course.”

  He grinned. “I can’t wait.”

  He wanted to see her at the festival? Were festivals in his village similar to theirs? Food, dressing up, dances? Her cheeks warmed at the idea of dancing with him.

  She wouldn’t be allowed. Brynn would be the one to dance with him, while all the other sisters just danced with each other.

  But that would be okay. She’d see him dressed up. She’d see him smile and try to take in a Tialan world he didn’t quite understand. She’d maybe even get to talk to him at the party.

  Maybe after the festival, she could walk him back to his room, and they could dance where Brynn couldn’t see.

  Maybe after the party she could tell him how much she had come to care for him.

  CHAPTER 13

  Rowec tossed and turned the entire night after his visit to the hatchery. He couldn’t keep his mind from wondering about the festival, the party, Nida. He’d have his chance to tell her how he was feeling, how he truly felt.

  And how did he feel? Love? That was ridiculous. But if it wasn’t love, then it was something close. It swelled and called up to him as he laid still. It creeped into his thoughts when the morning light came. And if he didn’t tell her, he’d burst.

  His parents used to say love didn’t just exist, it grew with time. He was pretty certain they were just trying to convince him to get over marrying Etta, but now…

  This feeling consumed h
im the more he thought about it and grew Vigor in him. He could sow a whole tiered farm in an hour. He could climb a whole section of paratil trees for the fruit. He could train for hours until his body collapsed. Again.

  He jumped up and started training for the second time in the last several hours. Unlike when he was in the cell, he had room to practice and objects to lift. Curls, squats, lunges, push-ups, peicha knife stances, stretching—anything to distract him from possibly bursting with this… this…feeling before he even had the chance to tell her.

  Maybe he wouldn’t wait until the festival. Maybe when she visited him in the next hour or so for their evening stroll to the kitchens or the garden, he’d tell her then.

  Raz snored softly on a little green silk pillow, his limp tail curled around him.

  Rowec sighed, picking at a serving platter on a nearby table. The moon’s white glow reflected in the plain, flat surface of the dish. The moon had grown since he had first arrived. It was already over half-full.

  “The queen will see you now for your dinner.”

  Startled by the sudden voice, he jumped and dropped the serving platter. It clanked against the stone floor and settled on a purple rug. A tall, bright-green Tialan stood in the entry to his room.

  “Romantic dinner?”

  He had nearly forgotten. The queen had agreed to meet with him, well over a week ago, and Nida had teased him that it might be something romantic.

  He couldn’t care less what the queen thought of their evening together, as long as he could negotiate his freedom for after the ceremony. And ultimately, Nida’s.

  The lime-colored Tialan nodded and turned to leave.

  “I’m not having a romantic dinner with the queen, by the way. I’m interested only in diplomacy.” He started after her, but she ignored him.

  When he exited the room, she hooked her arm and claw under his armpit and pulled him down the hall.

  “Wait. I can walk!” He strained against her hold but it was futile.

  “I will help you escort him, sister.” Another sky-blue Tialan guard joined her at his other arm.

  Escort? More like dragged against my will.

  “This is ridiculous. I don’t need to be dragged like this. I’ve been walking with Nida. Where’s Nida? She knows I can be trusted to walk. Talk to her!”

  But they continued taking him through the maze, eventually leading him up a staircase and out onto a wide, open terrace.

  The yellow-stone balcony was empty save for sprawling vines growing along the railing. Below was the jungle—a dense, dark-green blanket of trees with a cacophony of sounds. The Yvelkian mountains were just there in the distance, not too far. In the middle of the terrace, a dining table had a place setting for two. Goblets, metal pieces for probing food, green silk napkins with their ends lined in shimmering gold threads.

  His chest fell.

  A romantic dinner.

  Brynntial really had intended this to be something more. Whatever delusions the queen had, he’d behave. He could be tactful, but he would get his freedom.

  If he ignored the boldness of the queen’s expectations, the scenery was actually perfect. The mountains on the horizon were cooler and drier than this place. The night breeze would be winding its way over his people’s farms and through their homes. The men would be smothering the day’s fish harvest in salt over a fire. The women would be peeling vegetables to roast. The younglings would be grinding seed for the bread while fighting over the mallets.

  His stomach growled and burned, but his heart ached more.

  His feather-filled bed. The ovens warming his feet. The songbirds in the brush. The sweet smell of herbs and oils.

  “Good evening.”

  Rowec spun and met the gaze of a tall, shimmering green Tialan in a matching dress cinched high on her waist. Brynntial?

  Gold jewelry dangled through her red hair and down her arms. Gold chains were looped around her waist several times. The green scales on the side of her face and arms glistened in the moonlight with gold accents. Her bright, big eyes were lined in gold and green paints.

  Rowec’s stomach turned and his shoulders sagged a little. How could she be serious? A romantic evening with him? Some personal, alone-time with his captor? She was clearly insane.

  Nida followed shortly after and stood at her side; he smiled at her.

  Nida looked like Nida. Earthen-dyed robes to match her smaller-than-Brynntial’s teal eyes. Her auburn hair tossed over her part casually. Her hands—not claws—folded neatly in front of her.

  She was a breath of fresh air. A reminder he wasn’t crazy and imagining this place. The steady object to stare at when being spun and made dizzy.

  If she had been made up for the date, would she have worried about her clothes?

  I’d like to see her in anything.

  The thought came from nowhere and rocked him. He gripped the back of the chair for stability.

  She gave him a slight grin but went right back to stoic indifference.

  “Please, sit.” Brynntial motioned for the chair opposite hers.

  He did as he was told and pulled his eyes away to the queen. “Brynntial, correct?”

  She pulled her lips back revealing several teeth. A smile?

  He shuddered.

  “Yes, that’s correct. And you are… Rowan? Rhode? Rydia?”

  “Rowec.”

  She nodded and lifted her glass. “Forgive me. Of course, Rowec.” She wasted no time drinking the contents. “I hope you don’t mind. I brought Nida along in case we need a bit of translation.”

  He nodded and merely lifted the glass to his nose and sniffed. It was fermented, whatever it was, but it wasn’t fruit. A vegetable, maybe? Rotting carcass? He sat the glass back on the table.

  “I trust that you’ve been treated well?”

  He cleared his throat. “Nida has treated me very well, yes.”

  Brynntial’s pupils contracted a little. “She mentioned your previous living quarters were not suitable for you.”

  He glared. Previous living quarters? Not suitable? If that’s how she wanted to play this, then to hell with playing this game of proper chit chat. “A dungeon is hardly living quarters for your non-prisoner guest,” he bit.

  She leaned back slightly as her clawed hand rested at her collarbone. “Forgive me. I was indisposed. I was not aware they put you in a dungeon. That’s why when Nida came and told me, I approved you to be moved immediately.”

  “She’s the only one who’s treated me decent—”

  “You must understand. We’re not used to humans, and several of my sisters are quite bitter about their role in our survival—”

  “And I don’t care.”

  Brynntial blinked and straightened her spine. “You are a strong one, aren’t you?” Her eyes shot sideways to Nida, but Nida’s emotionless face remained steadfastly staring at nothing in front of her.

  Brynntial wanted to play games; he needed to get to the point. “You kidnapped my brother. I took his place. I want to discuss my freedom.”

  “He stole.”

  “A piece of fruit.”

  Brynntial tilted her head. “And the punishment—”

  “Was to kill him. Your-your guards—your sisters—held their claws to his throat. They were going to kill him. I traded places with him to save his life. Then, I’m dragged here and locked up all over a piece of fruit.”

  “I know punishment can be hard to deal with, but you chose to—”

  “It’s only thanks to Nida I’m not dead right now. Your other sister would have let me starve and die of thirst.”

  Brynntial took a deep breath. “I hardly believe that she would have—”

  “Then I find out you want to use me as some life source for the future of your species.” He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of coloring what had happened whatever way she wanted. He knew why he was kept for some measly piece of fruit, and he wouldn’t let her think she had one over on him.

  Brynn blinked several t
imes and turned toward Nida.

  Rowec followed her focus.

  Nida’s gaze faltered, dropping slightly.

  Had he gotten her in trouble? Was she not supposed to tell him why the queen wanted to keep him there? Had Drathella told the queen what had happened in the hatchery?

  Damn. Knowing that wretch, she probably had.