by Jane Atchley
“Ever the strategist.” Faelan leaned in and kissed him
Above deck, the ship swarmed with sailors hauling lines, furling sails. A colorful flotilla of Maoliou outriggers rowed out to meet the ship in a chaotic homecoming ritual made necessary by the absences of dockage. Beautiful, crystalline blue waves lapped at glistening black sand. About a hundred yards inland, tall palms waved leafy arms in the breeze. Faelan’s breath caught at the sight. She glanced at Duncan, and her delighted grin faded.
“Is something wrong?”
“There’s fire on the mountain,” Duncan said as the ship’s captain joined them.
“Aye, Mister Aimery, the old man woke up a few months back, belched out a bit of smoke and ash. Been puffing away ever since.”
A squeal tore Faelan’s attention from the captain’s odd conversation. She turned and saw Ky’lara dive over the side. Shrieking with glee, the twins followed her into the sea. One by one, other passengers dove into the water and the Maoliou hauled them aboard their outriggers. “Great Ancestor, surely there is another way to shore.”
“You’ll want the launch then, Mister Aimery?”
Was the fellow making fun of her?
Duncan’s gaze flicked to the hazy smoke covering the mountaintop. He forced a smile, wrapped Faelan’s hand around his arm, and covered it with his own. “At once, please. Have someone bring our baggage up later.”
About ten feet offshore, two sailors jumped out of the launch and hauled the small craft on to the beach with the aid of towlines. Duncan swept Faelan up into his arms and set her firmly on dry land. Then all hell broke loose. The natives swarmed them practically burying them in flower necklaces and well-wishes.
“Aimery!” A soft feminine voice cut through the singsong native jabber. The owner of that voice jumped out of an open carriage, caught her skirt up in one hand, and ran toward them.
Faelan followed in Duncan’s wake as he extracted them both from the press of natives. He let go of her hand to catch the young woman who threw herself into his arms the moment they broke free.
“Look at you!” The woman took a step back still holding Duncan’s hands. She had the same golden toned skin, the same bright blue eyes. Aimee, then, the twin sister. “You’re brown as a Maoliou.”
“I have been much outdoors, Aimee.”
“And wearing your uniform at home—Lud, You’ll have Papa spitting fire. You know, he hates the sight of the thing.”
Duncan smiled at his sister. “He’ll find I’ve learned to spit back. Papa must accept—”
“And you’d be Faelan.” Aimee’s electric-blue gaze switched to Faelan. She embraced Faelan crushing the flower necklaces and releasing a dizzying array of fragrance. “Aimery writes about you nonstop. I feel we’re already sisters.”
Panic clenched Faelan’s chest.
“Aimee, you are killing me. Please stop talking,” Duncan said.
But his sister rolled on. Entwining Faelan’s arm with her own, she turned back to her brother. “You know, she looks like— Oh. Oh, my.”
Duncan motioned the Nhurstari twins forward. “Aimee, may I introduce Eoin and Eamon, First of Nhurstari. Eoin, Eamon, this is my sister, Aimee.”
“Welcome to our islands.” Aimee bobbed a curtsy. The twins blinked at her in stupefied silence.
The knot in Faelan’s chest loosened. Obviously, Duncan had told his sister all about the twins as well. But judging by their glazed eyes and slack jaws, he should have told them all about her.
Duncan cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s’ attention. “Yes, well, shall we make for home?”
Home, as it turned out, sat high up the mountainside. Their carriage bumped along a narrow, twisting road under a dense, green canopy. Flashes of brilliant red, green, and blue plumage caught Faelan’s eyes as birds darted overhead. Maoliou was just as Duncan described it, hot, green, and surrounded by a wide, blue sea. To think she had taken him to task for such a description. It made her want to laugh out load. The carriage made another wide curve to bring the house into view, and all desire to laugh fled. Faelan’s stomach dropped to her toes. She leaned close so only Duncan heard her. “Say you don’t live here.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
“I don’t live here.” Duncan’s whispered reply tickled the skin behind her ear, raising goose-bumps along her arms. “My Holding is much more modest.” He jumped out of the carriage and held his hands out to help her down. “Welcome to Drake House.”
Faelan’s blood ran to ice. She gazed at the tiered, white palace of wide-open doorways and covered verandas nestled against the mountain’s verdant backdrop. Duncan’s familiar green and white serpentine banner flew above a center cupola. Atop the flagpole, a golden dragon reflected sunlight as a halo.
Drake House mocked her with wealth and power. Fears Faelan thought laid to rest roared to life. She did not belong here with this Holder prince, but his strong hands on her waist heated her skin through her tunic’s light fabric. His hot gaze promised love and acceptance. Placing her hands on Duncan’s broad, blue clad shoulders, Faelan let him lift her out of the carriage. Duncan kept one hand at the small of her back as his large, boisterous family smothered them with questions, hugs, and kisses. Before Faelan knew what had happened, the happy family swept her up the curving steps and into the house.
After dinner Faelan took refuge on the wide veranda outside her bedroom. She rested her palms on the white wooden railing, and lost herself in the incredible ocean view. The view, coupled with the cool breeze that stirred gauzy, white curtains and undulated the gossamer netting around the room’s enormous four-poster bed, gave the whole place a dreamlike quality. It was a dream a girl could grow used to. Damn, Duncan. How was a woman supposed to say no to paradise? Faelan turned her head toward the sound of boots echoing along the veranda. Speak of the devil.
Duncan rested his hip on the railing beside her. “Do you approve?”
Faelan shot him a glare. He knew very well only a fool could disapprove. “Dinner was a bit discomforting. I don’t believe I’ve seen so many good-looking people gathered around one table in my lifetime.”
Duncan cocked his head to one side, smiled. “They are rather daunting.”
“Your mother and sisters are sweet. And the twins are enraptured by Aimee.”
“They used to be enraptured by me. Fickle elves, these Nhurstari, I’m bitterly jealous.”
“You are not.” She punched his shoulder. “And stop teasing them. You don’t know what it’s like.”
He caught her fist in his hand and brought it to his lips. The fire of his kiss skimming her knuckles melted her peevishness. “What what is like?”
Love at first sight. Faelan glanced away. “Do you think your father will allow Aimee to visit the Nhurstari?” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him frown. He didn’t like evasion, but he didn’t push her to answer his question. He never did.
“I don’t think ‘allow’ is a word Papa dares apply to Aimee. Nhurstari is a mere eight day ride from my garrison, and Aimee’s virtue wouldn’t be safer in a nunnery.” Duncan reached out, entwining Faelan’s fingers with his. “Take a walk on the beach with me. It’s the only way we’ll find any privacy.”
Duncan strode beside her, hands clasped behind his back, a habit born of wearing weapons. Once the house fell out of sight, he pulled her against his chest and kissed her hard, his mouth plundering hers. He broke the kiss leaving them both breathless. His gaze searched her face. “Tell me what you think of my homeland.”
Duncan was the only man who ever asked what she thought. Faelan loved him for it. “It’s a beautiful place filled with beautiful people who love you. I don’t understand why you ever leave.”
“Don’t you? Funny, ever since I’ve known you it seemed to me we wanted the same thing.” He bent down and picked up a pink seashell, turning it over and over in his palm. “I leave so I can make my own decisions, my own mistakes. I leave so I can have my own life. Having everything decided for me is not…f
ulfilling.”
“That I do understand, but I can’t get over how beautiful these islands are.”
He shrugged. “What’s perpetual beauty when you’ve nothing to compare it with?”
Faelan nodded. Much as she had hated her harsh desert life, her heart ached for the big bright moon hanging over the dunes. Her toes longed for the touch of night cooled sand. Faelan kicked off her sandals scrunching her toes into the black sand. “It’s warm.”
Hearing disappointment in her voice, Duncan turned his head. “Drake’s beach never loses its warmth because of the volcano, not even during mama ’jai, the big wind.” His gaze snapped to the right. “Do you hear that?”
“What?”
“Something’s moving in the trees.”
Faelan’s lips quirked up. “Of course something’s moving in the trees. It’s a jungle out there.”
Duncan’s flame-blue gaze snapped back to her, his look saying he didn’t appreciate her humor. “Wild pigs are the only large animals on this island. Trust me we do not want to cross paths with boar.” He glanced toward the thick foliage. “Let’s get back to the house.”
Duncan kept his arm tight around her waist, held her close to his side against the possible threat of pigs in the jungle. That he sought to protect her from pigs offended Faelan, but because his protection allowed her to enjoy the play of the muscles in his back as he hurried along the beach, she decided to let it slide. Duncan stopped at the foot of the stairs leading up to Faelan’s room and turned her to face him. He kissed her, the barest brush of lips against lips.
“I’ll say goodnight here and go around to the front.”
“Why bother. The way your sister winked at me I don’t think my virtue’s in question.”
Duncan dipped his head, glanced up at her, his eyes silvery slits in the moonlight. “Papa’s house. Papa’s rules. Just because Aimee mocks our parents, and disrespects my guest, it does not follow that I must.”
Great ancestor. His retreat into formal speech told Faelan more than his words. He was angry on her behalf and likely to take it out on poor Aimee. The girl would know exactly where to lay the blame, time for diversionary tactics. Faelan twined her arms around Duncan’s neck. She ran her fingers into his hair, pushed her pelvis into his, and gave a little wiggle. “You lured me here with promises of running naked through your house.” She nibbled at his lower lip then pulled back to gaze at him. “How long are we living under papa’s rules?”
“As long as it takes to talk my brother down from Drake’s cave.”
Faelan ground her pelvis against his. The silver sheen in Duncan’s eyes turned molten.
“Tomorrow— I-I-I’ll talk him down tomorrow.”
Faelan fingertips caress his jaw line as she mounted the first step. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
****
The woman turned him into a stuttering fool and the wonder of it was he didn’t care. In fact, Duncan wanted to dance a jig. As soon as he caught the goodnight kiss Faelan threw him from the top of the stairs, he hurried around the side of the house and slipped inside. He had paused on the landing to rearrange things below his belt when he heard a muffled thump and stifled scream.
Duncan took the remaining stairs two at a time. He hit Faelan’s door running. Hurtling an overturned settee, he sprinted out the open veranda doors and caught a glimpse of someone carrying Faelan into the jungle. Duncan didn’t need more than a glimpse. He would recognize his brother’s gait anywhere. He ducked back into the house. He needed a weapon.
Duncan did not bother tracking Anton. He knew where his brother was taking Faelan. Why? What in blue-blazes did his brother mean by dragging Faelan to Drake’s cave? Anton might be big and strong, but he was as gentle as a lizard. Except for Aimee and himself, his brother did not interact with people very often. Anton daydreamed, studied the way butterflies’ wings moved, talked to animals. He didn’t abduct young women from his parents’ home.
Duncan wiped sweat out of his eyes. His temperature soared. He muttered the pact and swallowed a lump of fear. He loved Anton. He didn’t want to hurt his brother. But if Anton harmed Faelan, Duncan wasn’t sure Drake himself could hold him in check.
About a hundred yards from the cave entrance, the sounds of something crashing down the footpath pulled Duncan from his brooding. He planted his feet wide apart, tamped shot into his newly developed hand canon, and filled the striker plate with black powder. He bent his knees to absorb the weapon’s recoil and waited, gaze level, hands steady. He did not intend to shoot his brother by accident, but he meant to scare the blazes out of him.
A flash of silvery-white caught his eye. Moments later, Faelan burst from a thick stand of palm trees. A flood of cool relief surged through Duncan drowning the inferno in his stomach. No matter how many times he told himself his brother would not harm Faelan, he had not believed it. Faelan stood at his side, ears pricked forward, lips curled back. The low growl issuing from her throat declared her gloriously pissed.
The crashing got closer. Duncan glanced at Faelan, grinned. “Let’s see how Anton likes this.” He raised the hand canon.
Duncan fired. His shot took out a banana tree to his brother’s left. The discharge and resultant flash left Duncan stone deaf and a touch night blind for several seconds, but he recovered in time to watch his brother retreat with Faelan nipping at his heels. Blast the woman! He had just gotten her back.
Duncan sprinted after them. He scooped up Faelan’s dress where she abandoned human form near the cave’s mouth. Smart woman. Drake’s cave was a warren of quartz-covered tunnels. Faelan would have found herself lost in no time had she allowed Anton to drag her inside.
Duncan followed Faelan’s growls and warning yips to Drake’s treasure chamber. Empty of treasure, the crystal-studded walls still stole Duncan’s breath. Faelan pinned his brother against the far wall, pacing, growling. Duncan paused to admire her. No wonder he loved her, she was fierce.
Anton’s always restless gaze touched Duncan and flicked to Faelan. “She changed.”
“I know.” Duncan stepped slowly into the chamber. Fast movements made Anton jumpy. Faelan glanced at him. He tossed her dress over a stalagmite. “I thought you might want your dress.” Judging Faelan’s happy-sounding yip as she ducked behind the stone outgrowth, he guessed right.
“Not fair. You get everything.” His brother’s gaze locked onto a point just beyond Duncan’s right ear.
Not one word about the hand canon…this means something. Then again, maybe it didn’t. One couldn’t always tell with Anton. Duncan said nothing while he waited for Faelan. When she joined him, Anton’s gaze moved from nothing to the woman at Duncan’s side.
“How?” His brother’s body trembled.
Fire and ash! He wants to break the Pact. “Anton.” He used his command voice. “Anton. Look at me.” No reaction. Had he really expected one? Duncan stepped away from Faelan, closing on Anton. “Anton. Look. At. Me.” He kept moving forward until he could reach out and touch his brother. Placing one hand on either side of Anton’s face, Duncan forced his brother to meet his gaze. “What do I get?”
His brother’s eyes burned like twin suns. Duncan had grown up with this look. It preceded fire, and it scared him to his marrow.
“You get University in Elhar City. You get to soldier on the mainland.” Anton pointed at Faelan. He would have looked at her had Duncan not held his head. “You get a mainland woman.” Anton raised his hand and pressed it flat on his chest. “I’m the third son. I’m for the mainland woman.”
Coming from Anton this was quite a speech. Duncan had not realized Anton felt such things. It was a lot to take in. He narrowed his eyes. “Do you want a mainland woman?”
“No,” Anton snarled. The fire in his eyes winked out. His eyelids fluttered down. His shoulders slumped. “I want to be a dragon,” he whispered.
Oh Anton, what did I do to my family? What did I do to you? Duncan leaned forward resting his forehead against Anton’s forehead. �
��Why?”
His brother opened his eyes. “When you were Drake, what did the world look like?”
Duncan thought for a minute. “Color had sound. Sound had texture. Objects jumped out at me. When I was in the air my body felt light.”
“It’s that way for me all the time. In those few minutes after the Pact broke, I felt normal.”
Anton had changed too.
Anton gaze slid to Faelan. “I’m sorry I took you.”
Faelan moved to Duncan’s side. “No harm done,” she said.
Duncan heaved a sigh. “Sit. I’ll tell you how I turned pact-breaker. Because my actions had consequences for you, not because you took Faelan.”
Anton’s face brightened. He dropped where he stood and sat cross-legged on the stone floor.
Duncan stripped off his vest and spread it on the ground for Faelan. Ignoring her sharp look, he sat beside her, took her hand, and entwined his fingers with hers. He took a deep breath. “I stopped meditating with my horde gems. I stopped reciting the Pact. I didn’t sleep for days on—
“I can do that,” Anton interrupted.
Duncan held up his free hand. “Let me finish. I didn’t sleep. I built terrible screaming weapons that blasted the ground with dragon-like fire. I killed over twelve thousand people in less than three hours, and I injured thousands more. Then the Pact broke and Drake laughed at what he called my puny efforts. He said he could burn down the world.”
Anton blanched. “I don’t want to hurt people.”
He turned pleading eyes to Faelan. “How did you break your Pact?”
“Oh, sweetie,” Faelan said. “I was born two-natured. I don’t have a Pact.”
“I have to be a dragon,” Anton muttered, scrubbing at his bare arm as if to slough-off his skin.
Well…Duncan searched for the right word. Shit. He pulled Anton to his feet wrapped his arms around him. “Anton, please go down to the house. The family is worried about you.”
Anton shook his head. “I need to be here.”