“What are you planning to do?” she asked. “Stay here and work until you collapse? I thought sending me the triptych was a cry for help. And your computer message. I came to rescue you, but maybe you don’t want to be rescued.”
“Stevie, you’re my oldest friend. I wouldn’t have hurt you for anything. I had some moments of panic, that’s all … but I’m so, so glad you’re here. Honestly, I’ll be all right. Everything will be fine because something wonderful is going to happen. You can stay, can’t you? Everything feels right, now that you’re here.” He gave her the sweet, disarming grin that had first snared her heart ten years ago.
She gave a sigh that became a groan. “Danny, your mother’s in hospital. She’s really ill with pneumonia. It’s serious. Honestly, I’m not saying this to make you feel guilty, but you have to come home.”
“Don’t do this to me!”
But she had to. He went pale as she told him all that had happened.
“I’ve spent hours with her, I’ve seen the pain she’s in. She’s desperately sorry for the arguments you had, for trying to control your life. She understands why you left, but I still think you need to come home. Now. In case she doesn’t get better.”
His color drained to white. He pulled at his stringy hair. “I can’t. I do want to see her … I would if I could, but I can’t leave. None of us can leave now we’ve seen Aurata’s plan.”
* * *
Stevie was sitting in the middle of a king-size bed when Mist found her.
A friendly but formal Aetherial woman, with hair as red as Aurata’s, had shown Stevie to an enormous bedroom where she’d found new clothes laid on the quilt, a selection of luxurious toiletries, and everything else she could possibly need. Except freedom.
On the way she’d bumped into Patrick, who seemed cheerfully oblivious and slightly drunk. “Hey,” he said, “I could get used to this place, couldn’t you? It’s unbelievable.”
“They’re treating you okay, then?” she asked warily.
“Yes, fantastic. I’ve been playing pool, and drinking beer in front of the biggest TV I’ve ever seen. As for the security guys … wow. Who owns this place? How come all their employees are so damn good-looking?”
Stevie smiled, couldn’t help it. “Sounds like you’ve forgotten all about your temperamental boyfriend.”
“Who?” Patrick said, grinning.
“To answer your question, the owner is Mist’s long-lost sister, Aurata. I don’t know how long we’ll be here. Mist has family business to sort … it’s complicated. Not long.”
“No problem, Stevie. My partner needn’t expect me back at work until he’s ready to apologize. Let him stew. I’m yours, for as long as you need me. Did you find your friend, by the way?”
“Yes, Danny’s here. He’s … okay.”
“Wow, that’s a relief. What’s the story with him? Sorry, no need to tell me your private business. I’ll be in the games room if you need me. Or the hot tub. Or … who knows?”
Internally assaulted by images of Sam, Rosie and Lucas, she’d waved Patrick on his way. In her quarters, she showered in a bathroom nearly as big as the bedroom itself, pulled on a soft white robe, and now sat combing her damp hair as the sun set. The view was magnificent, the sky a lake of turquoise, amber and blood-orange, gemmed by a single planet. Venus, she guessed.
Night fell swiftly in the desert. Soon there was not one point of light but millions. The sunset faded to charcoal as Mist walked in.
He stood in the gloom, his head slightly tilted, raven hair brushing his shoulders. He was a serene figure, his long, lean body flattering the cheap jeans and T-shirt into designer garments. His eyes gleamed in the dark.
“Are you just going to stand there?” she asked.
“You look like a mermaid on a rock,” said Mist, sitting on the side of the bed. “So lovely.”
Stevie moistened her lips. Her breathing quickened with thoughts of the previous night. Even sitting apart, she caught his warmth and the clean scent of his body, as delicious as fresh cotton or warm silk … his scent overlaid with heated memories of being held, loved, taken over the edge of bliss.
She grinned. “Thanks. I’ve been told I scrub up okay. You don’t look bad yourself.”
Smiling, he placed a hand on her raised knee. “They haven’t given me a separate room.”
“Funny how that keeps happening, isn’t it?”
“I didn’t want to make assumptions.”
“God, you’re so polite, Mist. Not that I’m complaining. Please stay. If I’m in danger, sharing a bed won’t make it worse; I think everyone’s noticed we’re, um … whatever we are.” She, too, was making no assumptions.
“So how did things go?” he asked gently. “Did you see Daniel?”
“Yes.” Briefly, she recapped their meeting. “I was right to be worried about him. He’s in a terrible state, manic, exhausted, and scared out of his wits. This Oliver’s got him right under his thumb. Brainwashed, and I suspect even abused. He’s got a black eye. He said Aurata’s people are ruthless. When I told him that Frances is sick, he nearly fell apart and admitted he wants to leave, but can’t. No one’s allowed to leave, he says, because we’ve seen Aurata’s secrets. Is that true?”
“Possibly,” Mist said. “I don’t know yet. I’m so sorry. You’re right, this is no place for humans. Nor for you.”
“Don’t say that! We need to get Dan out of here, but we had no hope of freeing him unless we walked into the prison ourselves. I came in here with my eyes open.”
He lowered his eyes, lashes falling in long black curves against his cheeks. His grip tightened on her knee. “It’s more than that. I wondered if you’d even speak to me after my encounter with Rufus. The last thing I wanted was for you to see me lose control. I’ve waited so long for this confrontation with Rufus—and now that it’s over, what do I do? I can’t kill him—which leaves me where? Nowhere. Stalemate, again.”
“No, that’s not true. Something changed. I saw it.”
When he looked up, his eyes shone leaf-green in the gloom. “Did I really hear you telling the others to go ahead and let me kill him if I wanted to?”
“Yes, you did,” she said lightly.
“Why?”
“Because I knew you’d do the right thing. And you did. You got him on the ropes, and then you stopped. What you did was exactly right, Mist.”
“Such faith in me.”
“Have some in yourself. I know why your father wanted you as Sovereign Elect; you always try to do the right thing, no matter what it costs you. That’s real strength, not throwing your weight around. I think you’re the kindest, most tender person I’ve ever met.”
His hand slid along her inner thigh, pausing half-way. She was naked beneath her robe. He stroked her skin with his thumb, teasing, until she had to stifle a moan.
“No, the kindest person would be you, Stevie.”
“How was your audience with Aurata?” Her voice was unsteady.
“Surreal.”
“Enlighten me. This place is like a cult, isn’t it? Aurata’s the queen bee and everyone’s here to worship her. She soothes people into thinking all is wonderful.”
He gave a wistful smile. “She’s always had that effect. You can’t help loving her. Veropardus was always in thrall to her, Rufus too, and that hasn’t changed. I can’t believe she’s here. Her presence changes everything. Aurata’s the key to this.”
Stevie tried to ignore a twinge of jealousy. “In a good or bad way? Fela was in thrall to her as well, but the truth is, I could never make her out. I told you, she had bad dreams sometimes, but everyone does. I wish I had such complete self-belief.”
“Ah, she’s everything Rufus and I could have been. She’s studied science, and brought these Aetherials together: actually done something with her existence. She even claims that Rufus is a reformed character! If anyone could reform him, it’s her.”
Stevie reached out to stroke Mist’s side, feeling his ribs thro
ugh his shirt. “But don’t forget that she had Daniel brought here, apparently seduced and brainwashed by Oliver. And that they sent Mr. Slahvin to steal the triptych and the Felixatus base from us.”
His hand stopped moving. “It’s true, Slahvin is a nasty piece of work and I’m not even sure he’s a true Felynx.” Mist paused, but didn’t elaborate. “Perhaps her staff are overzealous, but she has a good heart.”
“Are you sure? My instinct’s screaming to free Danny and get back to Melusiel as fast as possible.”
“I understand, but there’s no use in rushing back into danger without help. There’s a bigger picture, and we’re all part of it, including Albin. So are Rosie and Sam and Lucas. I’m trying to find a pattern, but I can’t see it yet. I don’t pretend to know what’s right or wrong here. However, Aurata has said she will help us against Albin.”
“Would she?” For the first time since they had arrived here, she felt a twinge of hope.
“If we help her.”
“There had to be a catch.”
Mist’s hand slid to her hip. She caught her breath, hoping he intended to do more than talk all night. He went on, “Aurata wants to create some portals into Naamon, our home realm. Without planning permission, so to speak.”
“That doesn’t sound too terrible … does it?”
He undid the cord of her robe so that it fell open, and began to graze gently upward with hands and lips. Stevie caught a handful of his T-shirt and tried to drag it over his head. “If you’re going to do that,” she said, “take your flaming clothes off!”
He obliged, his hair drifting in a static cloud around his shoulders as he pulled the shirt over his head. Happier now, she ran her hands over his chest. “I’m not sure I can actually get these jeans off,” he said ruefully.
“Ah, I see the problem. Let me help you.” She smiled, working at the zipper. “I’ll be gentle.”
And then she didn’t care if he was fretting about Aurata or Rufus, or even thinking of long-lost Helena, because he was with her.
Perhaps it was wrong and perverse to be doing this while Daniel suffered, while Rosie and the others were stranded in severe danger, Stevie thought … yet what else could you do, in the heart of darkness, but feast upon each other as if it was your last night on Earth?
Eventually they lay at peace under the covers, entwined. The curtains were open, starlight silvering the bed.
With a start she realized there was someone else in the room. A shape was slipping towards them, as soft as an assassin. “Mist?”
He noticed at the same moment and they both jerked upright. Stevie hit the bedside light and saw that the approaching figure was Rufus, his long hair wild and his eyes maniacal.
“You’ve got to help me,” he whispered. “Aurata’s gone mad.”
19
The Book of Azantios
Rufus walked towards them and clambered onto Mist’s side of the bed, kneeling on the edge. The two Aetherials stared at each other. “Mad, how?” said Mist. “You expect me to believe anything you say?”
Rufus leaned forward and kissed his brother on the mouth. Mist flinched. Stevie thought for one alarming moment that Rufus was hoping to initiate a threesome. From what she’d heard, nothing was beyond him.
“I don’t care if you believe me.” Rufus was breathing fast, his eyes glistening. His throat was one huge bruise and his voice still raspy. “I am so glad to see you, Mistangamesh, that you can curse me, strangle me, kick me round the room, anything you like. I’m so happy you’re alive that I could cry with joy for a thousand years. I don’t even care that you hate me.”
“I don’t hate you. I have no feelings for you at all.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Oh, I do.” Mist put a firm hand on Rufus’s chest to keep him at bay. “Touch Stevie in any way and you will be sorry.”
“That’s not why I’m here.” Rufus turned his gaze to her, smiling. “Not that you don’t look supremely touchable, my dear, but I would like my brother to understand that I’ve learned a very hard lesson.”
“And it only took four hundred years,” Mist said tartly. “We’ve been here hardly a day and you’re trying to turn me against Aurata? She’s not a possession I’m trying to steal from you. There’s no need to be jealous.”
“Great gods, why did I ever want you back? I’d forgotten what a self-righteous arse you can be. Adam was much nicer.” Rufus winked at Stevie. “Did Mist ever tell you that, in his Adam incarnation, he wanted to be a priest? Hilarious. A few sessions with my lustful Aetherial friends soon knocked that out of him. And his agonies of guilt were glorious to behold.”
Mist pushed Rufus hard enough to dislodge him from the bed. “Your last warning. Leave Stevie alone.”
“Can’t you two have a conversation without arguing?” Stevie put in. “Rufus, I’m not gullible; I don’t care what orgies you got Mist or Adam into years ago. Aurata’s mad, in what sense?”
Rufus’s mocking grin vanished, like a mask falling. “I should speak to my brother alone.”
“Fine, I’ll leave you to it.” She began to get up, keeping the bedcovers over her as she reached for a robe.
Mist pulled her back. “No, stay here, try to sleep.” He kissed her forehead. “I’ll take Rufus elsewhere.”
“As long as you promise not to murder each other,” she said. “And I’m serious.”
* * *
They stood outside on a small balcony that jutted from the huge bedroom. Jigsaw Canyon lay in silver and shadow beneath the frozen snowstorm of the Milky Way. Mist gripped the rail with both hands, barely looking at Rufus. He felt empty. How to treat a brother that you’d tried to kill, only to spare him? A brother who’d responded with a bizarre mix of drama and denial? He had no single emotion that made sense. It was safer to feel nothing at all.
“What’s this about?”
Rufus answered very softly, “I love Aurata. I worship her, always have. I know you think I value nothing, but it’s not true. I wanted to help her, to support her in every possible way, and I’ve openly cheered her on and kept my doubts to myself, until now—but I can’t any longer.”
Mist thought of Aurata in the canyon, enthusing about fault lines and portals. “Doubts? That’s not like you.”
“What Aurata’s planning will rip the Earth apart. Literally, physically tear it to pieces. Perhaps the Spiral, too—it’s bound to, in fact, because the two are entwined. We have to stop her.”
Mist absorbed this with a mix of skepticism and unease. “Why stop her? I thought destroying the Earth would please you.”
“You don’t believe me! I knew you wouldn’t.”
“I’m trying to figure out why the hell you’d say such a thing. Is this some twisted game you’re playing? Could it be a misunderstanding between you and her? Or are you actually telling the truth?”
“I know my reputation for honesty isn’t great, but this is not a game.”
“But you said she saved you.”
“She did.”
“You were fawning on her, virtually licking her feet when we first arrived. Now you’re going behind her back, telling me she’s planning to destroy the world?”
“Yes! To save her from herself, because I am at least trying to behave half-decently. You’ve seen Daniel’s paintings?”
“Some of them.”
“And why do you think Aurata and Veropardus hid them? Because the images reveal what she’s planning! She means to rip down all the barriers between this world and the Otherworld. To do that, she intends to crack open every fault line in the Earth’s surface and set free rivers of lava. Tell me that won’t cause any harm, when a shift of a mere few inches can cause an earthquake big enough to bring down cities.”
Rufus’s eyes shone so bright that Mist began to suspect his concern was real. He couldn’t believe Aurata had the power to cause such a catastrophe. However, it might make sense that her supporters believed she could.
“Why would she want to do
that?”
“To create the free access between realms that was denied to us in the past. Mist, I adore her, but she’s gone crazy. And it’s the worst kind of craziness where the person acts sane because they think their ideas are perfectly reasonable. I don’t think she means to destroy the world, but that would be the result. Yet she can’t see it. Or she can see it, and doesn’t care.”
Mist looked at the stars, wishing this would all go away, that there was only him and Stevie. “I thought that destroying Vaeth would delight you.”
“Then you don’t know me at all! I like the Earth as it is! Yes, I love trouble, I’ve never denied it. I like tormenting humans, playing with their hearts and minds, upsetting their small lives. I don’t want to lose that.”
Mist scowled at him. “So you haven’t really changed at all. You’re still addicted to cruelty. You’re worried this might stop your fun.”
“The fun stopped long ago, believe me,” his brother muttered.
“Vaeth is not a playground designed for your pleasure, Rufus.”
“Oh, is that a fact? You’re right, of course, you pompous bastard, you’re always bloody right—but leaving my selfish urges aside, do you want to see the Earth and the Spiral splitting at the seams, blown apart by a network of gigantic supervolcanoes and boiling away into space?”
“Let me think,” Mist said icily. “No. But how can I believe what you’re saying?”
“Aurata’s possessed. This all goes back to the lies we were told by our elders—when they kept the Spiral secret. It made me angry enough to destroy Azantios. It left Aurata fixated on finding portals. Better still, creating them. Or—how about blasting apart every last barrier between the worlds until Vaeth and the Spiral are one big primal ball of fire? That’s not my idea of the good old days.”
“This can’t be true.” Uncomfortably, Mist recalled her promise, I’ll help you against Albin—if you’ll help me.
Grail of the Summer Stars (Aetherial Tales) Page 38