The Pages of the Mind

by Jeffe Kennedy

  “To this mossback, too,” Jepp said drily.

  “Wonderful.”

  “We’ll figure something out,” Zynda reassured me.

  Jepp squeezed my hand. “We won’t leave you alone. Zynda and I will take turns standing guard. He’s had all he’ll get of you, I promise you that.”

  I didn’t tell her not to make promises she couldn’t keep. Jepp blamed herself enough for this. The ladies finished, adding more ointment and wrapping my feet in a light cloth like the bed curtains. Inoa approached with something steaming in a cup covered with the same bright tiles as the table. She showed it to Jepp, bowing slightly, and took a sip from it. Jepp took it from her and tasted it tentatively.

  “It tastes familiar,” she said, “like one of our sedative teas. But I don’t know for sure.”

  Inoa gestured from the cup to me, giving me a hopeful smile and nodding as she spoke.

  “If they wanted to kill me, they could have already instead of spending all this time healing me. I’ll drink it.” Though much abated, the pain in my feet would likely keep me awake otherwise.

  “I’ll take first watch,” Zynda said. “In an appropriately daunting form.” She shifted, becoming the large cat, stretching out beside me and casually flexing her claws.

  The ladies gasped, one making a small shrieking sound, but Inoa, with the same equanimity as Nakoa, only widened her eyes slightly, then bowed to Zynda in a gesture of exaggerated respect.

  I took the cup and drank from it, while Jepp made herself comfortable in a chair by the open windows. Fatigue and drowsiness overwhelmed me, the cup nearly falling from my fingers before Inoa neatly took it. I might have dreamed it, but I thought she bent over and kissed my forehead. I let myself fall into oblivion, unutterably grateful for Zynda’s warm purr and Jepp’s steadfast presence by the windows.

  I might be trapped—a siege of another sort—but I wasn’t alone. Not this time.

  I woke to bright sunlight and the startlingly fierce and brooding face of Nakoa, watching me intently from a chair by the bed.

  “He’s been there since not long after you dropped off,” Jepp said, coming into view. “He came in and sat down. They’ve brought him food, but he’s refused to leave. He hasn’t tried to touch you, so don’t worry about that.” She looked weary. So much for taking shifts. I doubted she’d slept at all.

  I struggled to sit up and Nakoa reached to help me, adjusting the pillow under my knees and plumping the ones under my back. Stiff from lying like the dead all night—that tea was powerful stuff—I groaned a little. Nakoa frowned at me, asking a sharp question.

  “I’m fine,” I answered. Then huffed out a laugh, thinking of Ursula saying it was always a lie when she said it, too. I shrugged my shoulders, rolling them in demonstration. Then pantomimed yawning. “Just stiff from sleeping so long.”

  He seemed mollified. Then he glanced up at Jepp and back to me. He gestured to my feet and asked a question.

  They felt okay. Sore, but not anything like the night before. “Better,” I told him. Then tried their gesture of laying my hands over my heart. “Thank you, King Nakoa KauPo.”

  He shook his head, frowning. “Nakoa.”

  Okay, then. “Thank you, Nakoa.”

  “Thank you,” he echoed, trying the words, and I smiled to reward the effort. He gestured to Jepp, waving her away.

  “I’m not leaving you,” she replied, fingering her daggers for his benefit.

  “Could you maybe go to the windows and watch from there? I don’t know what he wants, but . . .”

  She sighed heavily. “Point taken. We need him happy, if we’re to convince him to let you go.” She crossed the room and turned her back. “Just yell if you need me, for the least little thing.”

  He watched her go, then gestured to my feet again, placing his index finger on his lower lip, tugging it and casting down his face with a sorrowful expression. An apology then.

  “It’s all right. You didn’t know.” I pointed to his feet, then tapped the palm of my hand with my nails. “Yours are tough. Mine”—I changed the gesture to stroke my palm lightly—“are soft.”

  Moving slowly, he took my hand and mimicked the motion, brushing his fingers lightly over my upraised palm. The sensation shivered through me and I caught my breath as my heart thudded and blood surged to the surface of my skin.

  “You okay?” Jepp asked without turning around.

  “Yes.” Except I wasn’t. I needed to think, something that became impossible when this man touched me.

  Nakoa flicked Jepp an irritated glance. He gestured to her and said something longer, using both my name and his. Still holding my one hand, he made encompassing circles with the other at the ceiling, sea, and me. It sounded very solemn. He finished by touching the garland still hanging around my neck, sadly crushed and wilted now.

  I wanted to say I didn’t understand, but I suspected I did, all too well.

  “What was all that?”

  I glanced at Jepp, who shifted impatiently from foot to foot. Nakoa tapped my cheek lightly, turning my gaze back to him. “Ayh,” he said sharply, shaking his head. He gestured to Jepp and said the sound again. “Ayh.” Then pointed back and forth between him and me. “Nakoa. Dafne.”

  “Please stay quiet unless I call you,” I told her, not taking my eyes off Nakoa. This felt much like negotiating with a predator intent on eating me if I made the wrong move. More wolves surrounding me. Or a dragon, stalking.

  I held up my hand, asking for his patience, and eased the other from his grip. Plucking a wilted petal from the garland, I pointed to the sea out the windows and moved the petal as if floating it on the waves. I set my finger on it, saying my name, showing the petal sailing to the palace. “Dafne came here on a ship to help you.” I showed him the petal sailing away again. “Dafne cannot stay.” I added a firm shake of my head. “Dafne must leave again.”

  Nakoa’s expression grew thunderous. He touched the garland, then laid a palm over my heart, pressing me against the bed. Speaking long and in a commanding tone accompanied by much head shaking, he made it clear that I would be going nowhere. I flinched back a little at his touch, but he held firm, gentling his tone. Then he picked up my hand again, uncurled my fingers, and placed a kiss on the inside of my wrist.

  If the previous caress had been a shiver, this was a bolt that shot into my already pounding heart. I imagined I felt the echo of Nakoa’s, beating in the same rhythm, along with that other, wilder heart. In the distance, a musical roar sounded. Nakoa cocked his head at it meaningfully, then kissed the tender skin of my wrist at the pulse point again, watching me as he did. I tried to keep calm, hide my reaction, but it made no difference. His lips curved in an unmistakably sensual smile. “Dafne mlai,” he said, and kissed my wrist again.

  I stared back at him, my thoughts scattered. Somehow I’d gotten myself engaged or, Goddesses forbid, married to this foreign king, and I had no idea how to get myself out of it.

  Ursula was going to kill me.

  Apparently satisfied that he’d won the argument, Nakoa stood and went to the doors, opening them to admit a smiling Inoa and her entourage of ladies, bearing food and likely more healing supplies. One of them carried a garland like the one I wore, only fresh. Nakoa took it from her and came back to me, placing it over my head and around my neck with that same sense of ceremony. Only then did he remove the wilted one, handing it back to the same woman, who received it on upturned palms with a reverent nod. Nakoa turned back to me and held out an expectant hand. Guessing, I laid mine palm up in his and his lips curved in approval. Well-trained Dafne.

  He pressed a final kiss to my inner wrist. “Mlai.”

  The ladies all beamed and sighed, their dark eyes shining, as if they found it romantic. Nakoa said something more, then left. At last. Inoa set a tray over my lap with a few murmured words. It held fruit and some kind of tea. I gestured to the tea and mimicked yawning. She shook her head. “Ayh.” Then used her fingers to make her eyes look wide
and alert. Good enough. And at least I knew their word for “no.”

  Much good may it do me with the dragon king.

  A large raptor dropped a bag on the balcony and landed on the rail. Zynda shimmered into human form and picked up the bag again. She and Jepp had a brief, quiet conversation, then came over to the bed, where the ladies were delicately unwinding my bandages.

  “How are you feeling?” Zynda asked, her eyes deep blue with concern.

  “Much better. I don’t know if I can walk yet, but my feet don’t hurt nearly as much.”

  Jepp and Zynda moved to where they could see as the ladies unveiled my wounds. “Oh, yeah.” Jepp nodded. “Not nearly so raw. Scabbed up in places. The blisters all popped and are nicely pink, healing up. You can probably put your weight on them in another couple of days.”

  It sounded like forever. “Days?”

  Jepp gave me a rueful shrug. “Feet are hard—all you can do is stay off of them.”

  I couldn’t stay here for days. With every passing hour, it felt as if my chances of getting back to the ship and escaping the island slipped away like sand eaten by the tide. If I knew why Nakoa had fixed on me, I could find a way to talk him out of his certainty that I had to stay. All I knew was it had to do with that ritual on the volcano. “Any sign of the dragon?”

  “No,” Zynda drew out the word thoughtfully. “And I flew around quite a bit looking for it. Could it have gone back to sleep? The volcano seems to be quieter, too.”

  “Hmm.” We all fell briefly silent, contemplating the import of that. No one wanting to broach the obvious issues we needed to discuss.

  “I guess we didn’t sail out on the morning tide, huh?” I finally said.

  Zynda grimaced. “The supplies have been unloaded, but your King of the Volcano and his people won’t answer Kral’s attempts to inquire about or see you. We’re going to have to carry you out and I’m afraid we’ll need the Dasnarians to do it.”

  “At least Kral is trying.” It reassured me on one level, as I hadn’t been at all sure of Kral’s loyalties. Or agenda.

  “Not nearly hard enough,” Jepp replied. “Not yet. But I’m working on him. He knows at least some of their language. It will be up to him to insist on getting you out of here.”

  “It might not be possible.”

  “Why not?” she demanded. “What happened between you and Na—him?”

  Inoa looked between us, brow gently wrinkled for the tone of our words. She patted the top of my foot and gave me a bright smile with it. Clearly she thought they were healing well, too.

  “Thank you,” I told her, putting my hands over my heart. She nodded back, pleased, then set her ladies to cleaning the chamber and various other tasks. “Keep your tone of voice as light as you can and smile, as if we’re talking about how happy we are,” I told Jepp and Zynda. “Here’s what I think is going on. Taking an educated guess, I’m now engaged or possibly married to the volcano king. Keep smiling, please.”

  Jepp plastered on a fake grin and cursed through her teeth. “Danu take the bastard!” She singsonged, and Zynda burst out laughing, which at least helped with the whole pretending-to-be-happy façade.

  “You are terrible at this,” she told Jepp, then set the bag on the bed and climbed on. “I brought your hairbrush, your writing things, and a change of your lightest clothes. Tell me more.”

  Gratefully, I took the brush and at least set order to my hair. It didn’t take much and I felt better. “As I said, I’m guessing from what we observed and what the volcano king tried to convey to me. But he seemed to be saying that he and I are connected and that I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Then he doesn’t know what he’s up against!” Jepp did a better job of sounding reassuring instead of darkly pissed.

  “We can’t fight them, even if Kral threw in with us, which I don’t think he’d do.”

  “Then we break you out by stealth,” Zynda promised, making it sound like she offered to take me on a picnic.

  “Yes,” Jepp agreed. “I’ll talk to Kral and go from there. Whether he agrees or not, we’ll get you out of here and onto the ship. This place is hardly a fortress. You lie still and build up your strength. We’ll take turns staying with you, and tonight—tomorrow night at the latest, as Kral is anxious to go—we’ll act. Don’t worry.”

  “All right,” I said. I expected to feel a sense of relief. If anyone could spirit me out of this mess, Jepp and Zynda could. Oddly, though, I mostly felt a sense of loss. I couldn’t possibly stay here. I’d be failing in the mission Ursula had entrusted to me and desperately needed me to succeed in. Also, I’d be facing an even worse exile than I’d already lived, with people even farther from being family to me.

  More than any of that, I could not be Nakoa’s wife or concubine or whatever he had in mind. Those sensual smiles and kisses left little doubt of his plans for me. I had not come this far to become the bed slave I’d so thoughtlessly teased Jepp about bungling herself into.

  “Don’t worry,” Jepp repeated, more reassuring now. “We’ll take care of you.”

  “I know. Thank you.” I had to stop myself from laying my hands over my heart.

  12

  I spent what remained of the day doing as Jepp ordered—lying in bed. Inoa, my constant companion, made sure I always had food and drink at hand. I tried not to think of her as my jailer. She was kind and helpful, even gathering the ladies to help me hang over a chamber pot. They giggled and I blushed, but the relief was so great I nearly didn’t care.

  The few occasions I painfully barked my feet confirmed I’d be going nowhere under my own power. I didn’t think Nakoa had planned this to ensure my captivity—he’d seemed to be trying to convey genuine regret—but the injury had me effectively trapped, which I tried not to dwell on overmuch, as I could do nothing about it.

  Inoa and her ladies helped me undress so I could sit on the edge of the bed and give myself a sponge bath, then assisted me into new clothes. Not the ones Zynda brought, but a filmy gown like theirs—which felt good in the afternoon heat but had no place to hide my little daggers. Inoa found them, of course. She didn’t take them away as I expected. Instead she laid them in a neat line on the tiled table beside me, even the ones she dug out of the stockings rolled in the pocket of yesterday’s gown. Shaking out the socks, she considered them with bemusement until I pantomimed pulling them over my feet. Her eyes widened in astonishment and she nodded in understanding, giving me the distinct impression she’d decided I needed them to shore up my poor, weak feet.

  Sitting, she poised a foot over the opening, looking to me for permission. Why not? I waved at her to go ahead, and, with more giggles, she pulled them on. I showed her how to tie the ribbons at the top to hold them up and she pranced around, holding her sheer skirts above her knees, the heavy knit of the stockings a marked contrast. Then the other ladies all had to try them, laughing and talking. I taught them my word for the stockings and they eagerly joined in the game, giving me the names for various objects.

  I memorized as much as I could, writing the words in my journal, spelling them phonetically, though I quickly ran out of ink in my pen’s tiny reserve. Zynda offered to go to the ship to restore my supply, but Inoa caught the tenor of our conversation, sent one of her ladies running, and presented me with a lovely blue-glass bottle full of a gorgeous thick ink that retained a black gleam on the page even when dry. The lady also brought extra sheets of paper, of some of the finest quality I’d ever seen—both thin and surprisingly sturdy.

  At least they understood about books, ink, and writing. If Kral’s diplomacy and Jepp’s strategy failed to free me, I’d have that much.

  The ladies took my clothes and stockings away, demonstrating that they’d be washed. As the sun declined to evening, they changed me again, this time into a much grander dress, in shimmering shades of copper. For the first time all day, Inoa abandoned me and left me to her ladies, who set to fixing me up, using my hairbrush after thoughtful inspection and addi
ng colored ointment to my lips, cheeks and eyelids. Jepp arrived as they fussed over me, wearing her dress uniform, confirming that we’d be attending the feast that had been canceled the night before due to my injuries.

  “They’re setting up for a major event,” Jepp told us. “Kral says he’s never seen them do anything on this scale.”

  “Does he know why?” I asked.

  “No, but we can all guess. Be prepared for anything, is my best advice.”

  “I’d best go change, then,” Zynda said. “I’ll meet you there.”

  “If you can shape-shift back to a fully dressed person, why can’t you change clothes the same way?” Jepp asked.

  Zynda looked a bit surprised. “I never thought about it. I always just shift back to whatever I was wearing originally.”

  “If I could shape-shift, that’s the first thing I’d want to learn. Practical.” Jepp was keeping things lighthearted, but she clearly worried about the evening’s events. Distracting all of us with her poking at Zynda. “Besides supersenses, of course. Hey! Maybe you could create extra weapons, too.”

  Zynda laughed, as Jepp wanted, and shook her head. “I’ll work on it.”

  “Speaking of weapons”—Jepp eyed the array of little daggers on the table—“I brought your knife. Which you should have been wearing yesterday.” Inoa watched but did not interfere as Jepp fitted a lovely belt over my gown, adjusting it so the sheath draped at my hip, the ruby glinting.

  “This isn’t mine.” I traced the lovely gold-worked leather, set with small jewels.

  “No.” Jepp sounded gruff, even for her. “It’s mine. Rather, it was my mother’s, but it’s yours now.”

  “Jepp, I can’t take this. What if—”

  “Especially what if,” she replied. “You’ll keep it and, more important, you’ll wear it. Besides, it was always too fancy for me.”

  And yet she’d carried it with her, one of the precious few belongings she could bring on her journeys, along with the weight of Branlian whiskey. Jepp always seemed so brashly confident and unsentimental. Keeping something like this was not what I would have expected of her.