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Dreaming Awake

Page 33

by EF Joyce


  "If I'm really your daughter, why am I not a seer?" she blurted out. As stupid as it seemed, she'd dreamt about her father a hundred times, the man her mother would never speak of. What had he been like? Would he have liked her? Why had he abandoned her?

  "Seeing skips a generation. No child of a seer will have their parents' powers. Now, I've told you about as much as I can without influencing your future. The time has come for you to kill me. I'll be as still as possible. I ask only that you make it quick and painless." he said, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, his legs crossed on the mat and his hands resting on his knees. The candlelight flickered gently across his serene face, a man ready to face death.

  "What?" she stammered, hesitating. "You want me to kill you?" She had come here to do so, but now that he'd offered to let her, Anaka knew it was a trap.

  "Yes, you must kill me. This is the only way. When you leave here, you will find that the inhabitants of this island are all dead. I've had my guards kill them, and then each other. Only one remains, pacing the grounds of this building, so that you would not become suspicious. I ask that you end his life as well. He has orders if you don't, but suicide will be difficult for him." Anaka couldn't keep the shock from her face, and almost nothing shocked her anymore.

  "You murdered every single person on this island? Your friends, your family?" She couldn't understand it, how could he do such a thing, how could anyone? Perhaps he really was her father.

  "Do you think I enjoyed it?" he snapped, his calm voice cracking for the first time. He took another breath and closed his eyes again. "There was no other way. After you kill me, your queen will dream her way here to check on you, assist you if necessary. Elixa would not have truly left you, her prized spy, her closest friend, alone in this. She will credit you with the slaughter, and you will accept the blame. This is very important. Consider it my last wish. I'm sorry you had such a poor childhood, and I'm sorry for what lies ahead, but do not despair.

  "You will know love; you will accomplish great and terrible things. Your life will burn bright as a falling star and you will not leave this world unnoticed. Now kill me." he said, looking at her with deep brown eyes, unblinking, unafraid.

  She stepped toward him, carefully pulling Hakkon's dagger from her sleeve, expecting him to flinch, to beg, to change his mind. Anaka didn't want to kill her father after only just meeting him, but what choice had he left her? There was so much she wanted to ask, but no time left. The entire island was dead. There was nothing for her here; he wanted death and Elixa was coming. Her heart warmed for a half-second from the thought – Elixa hadn't left her here alone, would never turn her back on her, and neither could Anaka.

  The assassin thrust the dagger into the Oracle's chest. His eyes widened and he gripped her arm with failing strength.

  "Follow your heart, Anaka," he whispered, then died, a thin stream of blood on his lips, a smile on his face. She'd pulled out the dagger, wiped it on his clothes and left. The guard waited on the porch, sitting serenely, his eyes on the stars. He didn't move as she approached silently from behind, and was dead before he'd realized she was there. The Handmaiden wandered the island by moonlight, peeking in huts and gardens, everywhere finding proof of the Oracle's words. Every man, woman and child was dead, even the babies. Though death had never bothered her, the sight made her sick. She soon stopped looking and waited by the shore for her queen. The faster this twisted place was behind her, the better.

  Follow her heart, he'd said. As if she was a character in a children's tale. His advice had led her to this locked room, awaiting an agonizing death at the hands of her own husband. If she had refused to keep this seer's secret, Stellan would have never fallen in love with her and none of this would have ever happened. Anaka had accepted there would be no escape for her, not this time. She would make peace with death and trust Elixa to care for Calixte in her stead. The queen would make certain she was cared for, perhaps by a Wakati servant so that she may learn her ancestry. Only one problem remained; ensuring her daughter never became Queen of Dreams. If she does, this will all have been for nothing. But what could she possibly do about it?

  Anaka dressed in fresh clothes from a well-stocked wardrobe and relaxed in front of the hearth. Calixte would be born in days, a week at most. She had no time left to solve her last problem. Since she could not dream her way out or contact anyone, her only option was to beg Stellan to promise her, and a long shot that was. A liar and ruthless bastard, he would either swear not to make her queen then do it anyway, or he'd tell her the truth and there'd be nothing she could do to stop him.

  Chapter 38

  A servant girl arrived later that evening with Anaka's dinner, and again the next morning with breakfast. She could wait to talk to Stellan, if she even saw him before her death, and beg for his nonexistent mercy or she could try her last to get out of here. Anaka could take down the tiny servant girl when she brought the food in, but four guards in Stilethen armor waited just outside the door. Immensely pregnant and without a weapon, Anaka didn't stand a chance against them. The windows and doors were all sealed with magic. Her only shot was to wait until Alaric arrived and took control of Stellan. But that was weeks away, time she certainly did not have. She was trapped, condemned, dead. There was no way out for her or her daughter. Everything she had done had been for nothing.

  Anaka woke to a crack of thunder outside her door, echoing in the vast corridor outside, followed by a muffled cry. She scrambled out of bed and ran to the door just as it opened. A man's slender shadow outlined in the moonlight, pausing just inside the door. Stellan?

  "Anaka?" he called softly.

  "Ronan!" The Handmaiden pulled him into a fierce hug. "What are you doing here?"

  "I've come to get you out. We have to hurry." He grabbed her arm with an iron grip and guided her out of the room. Three guards lay dead, blood leaking onto the stone floor. One of the Arzuan weapons was clutched in Ronan's pale hand.

  "You killed them?" she whispered as they raced down the hall, the stones icy against her bare feet.

  "I heard you were captured," he whispered as they rounded a corner and flew down a hidden servant's stair, pausing before a wooden door at the base. "When your daughter is born, the Ilahi will kill you...I just can't lose you, no matter what the price." He eased the door open, silent on oiled hinges. After peeking through the dark opening, he motioned for her to follow. It opened to a kitchen, dark and still in the empty midnight hour. Washed pots gleamed in the pale sliver of window light, counters were scrubbed and wrapped food stacked in neat piles. The dying embers of the hearth watched them like tiny eyes as they weaved their way through the labyrinth of kitchen gear.

  Ronan had come to save her, just as she'd saved him. He'd been the only person who'd ever truly cared for her, without nursing some hidden agenda of his own. He was her family, he was the person she should have been with.

  One day too late, he had said. The night she'd returned from her journey to the Wakati Isles, after accepting Elixa's request to spy on her father as his lover, Ronan had found her.

  Rain had pounded against Hakkon's giant windows, the doors had been flung open and Ronan had rushed inside.

  "Anaka, I thought you were dead!" he'd said, pulling her into his arms, holding her tight enough to verify her reality. He'd let go of her, looked at her with those beautiful sea green eyes, fearing that he'd lost her. He'd been nine when she began training with Hakkon, herself only ten. They'd been scared kids together, always dodging their master's next tantrum. They'd had each other's backs, took beatings for each other, covered for each other, trained together, lived together, shared all their secrets.

  By the time she was fifteen, she'd convinced herself she loved him. In order to declare her feelings as well as escape the monster Hakkon once and for all, she'd killed his father in front of him. Even with his gentle heart, he'd had no love for that demon of a man. He'd spat on his corpse and told Anaka he'd never be able to repay her. But she hadn't wante
d payment.

  Confessing her feelings over his father's corpse seemed a poor choice, so she'd waited. She waited and waited until one day she saw him in the garden, kissing a kitchen girl. Anaka had been crushed. No one understood her like Ronan did. No one else would ever care about her. Angry, depressed and desperate, she got drunk that night and started the regrettable affair with Quinton Balkin. Six months later, he was deployed and she ended things. Shortly after, Elixa sent her to the Wakati Islands for that fateful mission that would change her life forever.

  "Why would the queen send you out there alone?" he'd asked, his arms around her again. She didn't dare pull away.

  "She didn't. She dreamt her way there, to help me." He sighed, but still held onto her.

  "All I could think was that I'd lost you. And there are so many things I should have said sooner," he pulled her even closer, until no space was left between them. "And things I should have done," he whispered, lips centimeters from hers, then he kissed her and she lost herself to him, to this dream that she'd wanted for so long.

  Their kisses intensified and he pulled her down onto his father's cursed carpet, soft under her skin as their clothes came off. But then she remembered, with a jolt like lightning the promise she'd made to the queen.

  "Ronan, we can't do this, we can't," she sat up, pushing him off.

  "Anaka, what's wrong? What did I do?" She explained her new mission from the queen. She would have to make the Ilahi believe she loved him. She would have to invest herself in the task completely. If he discovered she was with anyone else, she'd be killed. It had to look real, completely and totally.

  "If I'd known this would happen...I would have told her no. I thought I had nothing to lose." He'd sat down next to her, killing her with those green eyes she'd loved so much, his familiar face, the only one she wanted. But she thought he hadn't felt the same. And now it was too late.

  "The queen won't make you spy on him forever," he'd argued, stubborn as always. "And when your task is done I'll be here waiting. But for now, we have tonight," he'd smiled, the corner of his mouth turning up. How she'd loved that smile.

  "That will only make things harder," she'd argued, but hadn't meant it. For one night, they belonged only to each other, and she'd promised to come back, and had meant every word.

  But Stellan, he was so different from Ronan, in every possible way. Dangerous and sharp and passionate. Everything in her life had been dark and risky – her training, her missions, her whole existence. She'd craved that danger, and had fallen hard for the great Ilahi. Ronan had been hurt, of course he had, and she'd tried to write him off as a childhood fantasy but the truth had always lurked inside her, hidden within. Being with Ronan had terrified her. He was safe and loving and nothing she deserved.

  Anaka Vilente was death incarnate, and deserved only death in return. Ronan Hakkon had been meant for better, but he'd never left her side. And what had she given him in return? Heartbreak, betrayal and broken promises. Sounded just like her. She had failed him and chosen Stellan. Stellan over Ronan, Stellan over her daughter, over her safety, over her closest friend. Elixa had been right, and how foolish she'd been not to listen. With this second chance she'd been given, Anaka would not repeat her mistakes. On the other side of the kitchen, half hidden between potato barrels and a stack of flower bags was a tiny wooden door.

  "This door will take us to the east cliff gardens," he whispered, face half visible in the moonlight. "I've secured passage to Tibre by ship. The captain waits for us on the eastside docks."

  "How did you manage that?" she whispered back. Ronan had no assets, no money, no estate, and secret transport for the biggest traitor to the empire would cost some serious coin.

  "I did a job for him. My family name is still good for that much. Now come on, we have to hurry. We can talk on the ship." He paused to light a lantern, the tiny flame casting an eerie glow in the vast, abandoned kitchen. A job? Ronan had killed for her! More than just the palace guards in self-defense, but an actual Black Hand contract. He had gone against everything he believed in and wanted for himself just to save her. I don't deserve it. I should have done him better. And Elixa too. Now she would never get the chance to tell her the truth.

  "Ronan," she whispered into the dark emptiness. "I'm sorry. For everything. I've fucked it all up. I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, I swear. I love you, I've always loved you."

  He stole a kiss from her in the moonlight, quick and fleeting but promising more. Her heart thundered. The beginning of a new life. One far away from all her mistakes. Ronan eased open the tiny door and they slipped outside into the clear night, crisp air sharp against her bare arms and legs, her bare feet soaking into dewy grass. She took a deep breath of the cold fall air and looked up at the glittering stars. Freedom.

  Her breath whooshed out of her as she was slammed against the stone outer wall, her vision going black and returning slowly. Two guards gripped her forearms on either side, so tight they could pull her apart. No. She had been so close. And Ronan? Where was Ronan?

  "You thought you could escape me so easily, Annie?" No, no, no. Not like this. Stellan appeared from the shadows, holding Ronan in front of him holding his arms behind his back and a knife to his throat.

  "You could not leave that room without my knowing. Why let you get this far then, you ask? Well I had to see who dared to help you, didn't I? A friend of a traitor is a traitor just the same." His grip tightened on Ronan, the knife pressing against his pale neck.

  "No! Stellan, please!" she sobbed, hot tears blurring her vision. Her fault, all of it. She was poison. Everything and everyone she loved was cursed, her dreams were ashes and her desires smoke. And now the one person in the world who had really cared for her was about to die, because of her.

  "Please, please," she begged through her choking sobs. "If you ever loved me, Stellan you won't do this." His smug look was quickly replaced with grim sorrow.

  "If I ever loved you..." he repeated, quiet and thoughtful. Then he slit Ronan's throat.

  Chapter 39

  Anaka had used up every last tear she possessed, her voice scratchy from screaming as she watched Ronan die. She lay on the cold floor of her prison suite, her cheek pressed to the freezing stone. The guards had dragged her back to her prison rooms, kicking and yelling and crying. That had been two days ago, and she hadn't moved since.

  Her daughter would be made queen, unless Alaric stepped in. And when he did he would subject her empire to ashes and slavery. Ronan was dead, Elixa was doomed and she hated Stellan. Meaning had been lost, and truth and purpose. Everything she had ever done had been worthless. A short, pointless life training as a killer, spreading death and sorrow. Betraying an empire, falling in love with darkness, bleeding the world dry. At nineteen she'd accomplished more than the most notorious names in Yerazi history.

  As Grayna had said, her deeds were impressive. Impressively horrible. Anaka Elspeth was ready to die, and more than deserving of it.

  "Anaka, I'm sorry," a voice interrupted her thoughts, Elixa's voice. The queen stood before her in dream form, beautiful and glorious. "I wanted to save you, but I had no choice. Alaric grows more powerful and ever closer with each passing day. I had to tell my father why I couldn't stop him." Anaka sat up and looked at her dearest friend, her almost sister.

  "I'm the one who's sorry," she said. "For everything I've done. For every choice I've made. I deserve this fate."

  "Perhaps," the queen said, seating herself on Anaka's prison sofa, her enormous violet gown poofing out around her.

  "Why have you come?"

  "There was a truth you nearly told me the night you took back the palace. About my father and what he did to me the day he bonded me to the Sphere. I'm here for that truth, before it dies with you."

  "I owe you that much, Elixa. Take me to the Queen's Tower, and I will show you everything.

  Chapter 40

  Elixa opened the door, releasing her friend from her prison, if only for a mo
ment. Anaka could not run, could not fight, could not do anything in the presence of the queen's dream self. They walked unimpeded, the guards falling away from their queen, bowing in respect as she passed. The entrance to the Queen's Tower was just down this hall, third set of doors on the left. Why Anaka wanted to take her there, she didn't know. Perhaps she wished to taunt Elixa with the sight of her true self – just a skinny, pale young woman with shadows under her eyes from dipping into the Sphere's magic too often. Elixa's real body looked just as her dream body, only without the glow of magic and vitality. The real queen was certainly beautiful, but also pale and tired and scared. And without magic.

  They approached the doors – ironwood and carved with seadragons, two intricate silver knobs already turning green from the Sphere's influence – and Elixa held her breath. Two queen's guards stood like statues on either side. She never walked through her own quarters while dreaming, never entered her own tower, and she'd never seen her true self from dream flesh. What did Anaka have to show her that she had not already seen a hundred times? She had spent the last decade of her life in this tower.

  "I have no need to look upon my own quarters from dreams," Elixa argued.

  "Just open the doors," her friend replied, dark eyes serious. Elixa reached for the greening handle. The guards did not move. She pulled open the doors to her throne room. "The truth is, you are not in the tower. You never were."

  The Queen's Tower was empty. The bare stone walls stretched up and up to its shadowy peak, the stone floors unadorned with carpets. No stairs lined the walls, no hearth crackled in the corner, no windows displayed the stormy sea. Birds chirped and fluttered from nests they had built in the rafters of the empty tower, grime coated the flagstones an inch thick, the air heavy and musty. Impossible. She'd woken in her bedroom only yesterday morning. The tower had been fully furnished, with stairs and rooms. It had been her home for the past ten years.

 

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