“What happened?” he asked again.
“He tried to kill me. I must have blacked out, and he mistook me for dead. He shoved me down the hill, probably hoping to make it look like an accident.” She could not tell him that she had died, and now she was back.
“Who?” An edge entered his voice, an edge that sounded all too familiar, like her Jace.
“Gordon.” His name was whispered as a chill of fear that he would reappear ran down her spine.
“We will find him and kill him.” Hate dripped from his voice like poison.
“You cannot. If you do, then you’ll not discover who sent him.” She shivered then moved closer to the fire to try to dry her dress and allow some warmth to enter back into her body.
Dragoste stayed close to her, offering her his warmth.
“Where is Bash?”
“Alistair? He is looking for you. You did not come back. You said you were only going to be gone for a short while. He was worried about you being out in this storm on All Hollow’s Eve.” Jaceson turned his back to her and walked toward the mouth of the cave. “He may be back at the castle to see if there has been any word about you.” When he turned back to face her, she saw his eyes lock on the wounds where she could feel the warm blood oozing. With a few long quick strides, he was at the pool behind her. She heard a rip of cloth then drips of water. When he returned to her side, he handed the cloth to her so that she could clean herself. “We need to get you back to the castle. You need to be attended to.”
He waited until she wiped the blood and mud off as best as she could, but fresh blood sprang back in its place.
“How far?”
“It should not take long. I will help you, m’lady.”
She nodded and followed him out into the cold night. The rain had let up to a light sprinkle. The walk back to the castle was a slippery and tiring one. She had been through quite the ordeal, and Jaceson must have noticed her weariness because he cradled her into his arms and carried her the rest of the way. She allowed her head to rest on his chest as he carried her to the castle entry grateful that he was there to help her.
She heard shouts, feet running, and things clattering, but she was so tired she could not look up to see what was going on around her. She was drifting off when she felt the sudden warmth of being inside some place dry with a roaring fire.
“Fetch Nonna.” Jaceson’s voice boomed. He carried her up the stairway to her chambers. The door was opened before they reached it. She opened her eyes to see a young lady in the room, rummaging about, pulling out clean dry clothes. A fire blazed hotly from the fireplace. Jaceson set her down in a large plush purple chair close to the fireplace.
“I will be back shortly.”
She watched as he quickly exited the room, and Nonna entered, closing the door behind her. The old woman was exactly as she had been in all the visions. Long silver hair cascaded loosely down her back and framed her kind face.
She closed her eyes and allowed Nonna and the young lady to attend to her wounds, dress her in warm clothes, dry her hair, and help her get settled into the large bed. Dragoste stretched out next to the fire. Nonna’s soothing voice was close by, but Daciana could no longer keep her eyes open. Eyelids slid closed as if they had a will of their own, and soon sleep claimed her.
Pain seared through her body, her eyes still closed tightly. Fear that opening them would reveal to her what she already knew deep in her soul caused her to keep them closed as she listened the quiet whispers around her.
“She will live.” The voice of Nonna was close to her bed. She felt the old woman’s hand pat her own hand gently. “She does not give up so easily.”
“Why would someone want to cause her harm, let alone kill her? She has never done anything to hurt anyone. She is always thinking of others, putting their needs before her own. I do not understand this.” The masculine voice sounded vaguely familiar. Perhaps someone would say his name, though she was not sure what good that would do her. Certainly, she would not know everyone here, only those she had seen in her dreams and read about in the history books.
A firm soothing voice came next that she recognized as Jaceson’s. “She told me who it was. I always knew he was a conniving serpent, but I didn’t think he would have betrayed you. It is no secret how you feel for her. Everyone knows of the ring.” Feet shuffled across the floor. A cluttering sound reached her ears and a crackle; a log had apparently been tossed on the fire. “We cannot allow someone to get this close to her again.”
“Jace?” She finally mumbled, slowly opening her eyes. Her throat was drier than the desert. Her hand shook when she moved it.
She saw the look of confusion exchanged between the men, and the look of jealousy that came from the man with haunting blue eyes. The eyes from her dreams, the eyes of Alistair. Jaceson stepped toward her bed.
“I want to go home, Jace.” Part of her ached for the home where she’d grown up, the home of her Jace. Though this man who stood before her was very much like him, he was not her sibling here. She wanted her brother back, but to have that she had to reject this place, forget that she was here for a reason. It didn’t matter to her what that reason was if she could not have her brother. She had lost her parents. She was not sure she could stand losing her brother also.
“You are home. This castle is your home now.” His words were soft and soothing as he stepped even closer to her.
She watched him as he glanced from her to the pitcher of water. In silence he filled a cup and brought it to her lips. The liquid soothed the dryness, and she licked her lips before accepting another drink.
“Don’t you remember?” he asked as he set the cup down, looking at her then at everyone else in the room.
“Remember what?”
“Your journey here. Our journey here, settling everyone into their new homes. This was all because of you, m’lady.” Concern filled Jaceson’s eyes. “What do you remember?” He leaned against the wall, crossed his arms over his chest, and looked down at her.
Her eyes went from him to the man who moved to stand next to his side. He was tall and muscular. His dark hair and piercing blue eyes screamed at her to remember. She recognized him but only from her dreams and what she’d read in the books. A deep sadness filled her heart as she realized that this man who looked at her so lovingly now was not in love with her, but in love with whom she had been before Gordon came along.
“I…” She glanced at Nonna to see kindness and understanding in her eyes. The old woman’s hand held Magnolia’s, comforting her. “I remember speaking with Nonna about talking to King Pelonis, seeking an audience with him to have this land for our own home, a kingdom of our own. I remember Gordon in the village hurting me then. A chase through the woods, being followed by someone. Terrified that if I did not make it back to the camp, I would never see my family again.” She swallowed and felt the gentle squeeze of Nonna’s hand. “Last night, Gordon said he enjoyed the hunt. I remember the struggle.” She lifted her hand to her throat, gently touching it.
A dark scowl went across the faces of both men.
“He will pay for what he did.” Alistair grated the words out.
“You found me. I wanted Bash.” She glanced around the room, looking to see if she had missed anyone else. She thought that Jaceson would have brought Bash here. What was it he had said last night?
“I am here.” Alistair stepped forward, a small smile on his face.
Confusion filled her. Was this not Prince Alistair in front of her? She shook her head while looking at him.
“Alistair Sebastian of Marcello. You and Jaceson are the only ones who call me Bash.” He dropped to his knees by her bed.
With his face so close to hers, she could see him much more clearly. He had a few days growth on his face, causing a dark shadow that merely enhanced the strong lines of his jaw. His blue eyes shone, and in the depths of them was something she could not describe. It was something that she had only ever seen once before: the night the rin
g had been brought to her at the diner. Could it be that this was the same man? It seemed highly probable. After all, she had just travelled through time and woken inside of a girl who was supposed to be dead.
Hope flickered in his eyes as they searched her face.
A small smile flirted across her lips before she closed her eyes again.
“She needs a hot bath. She needs to wash so her wounds do not fester. I cleaned the dirt out of the larger ones before I stitched them shut. She will need to wash the smaller wounds, however. She’ll rest better once the mud and grime is off.”
Jaceson stepped forward as Nonna finished speaking. “I will have a bath brought up for her.” His footsteps crossed the floor. “Do you think she will ever remember it all?” Anguish filled his voice.
“In time, my boy. In time.”
Magnolia was emotionally drained, and she found herself wondering what happened to her brother before she allowed herself to drift off to sleep once again.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
HOT WATER SLOSHED DOWN over her head, rinsing out the soap that had been lathered in for the third time. The scent of roses filled the room.
Jaceson had ordered two tubs brought and filled with hot water so she could wash the filth off in the one then relax and soak in the other, keeping her wounds from the muddy water. He’d left Nonna and Railynn the young servant, to care for her. She wondered why Jaceson was so attentive here. In this time, in this place, he was not her brother. So why did he look after her?
“What of Jaceson?” She finally broke the silence to ask.
Railynn was across the room changing the bedding to something fresh. Magnolia had left the sheets bloody and muddy. “He’s very handsome.”
Magnolia glanced in the girl’s direction to see a blush creeping up her cheeks.
“I know that I should not be looking at Alistair’s brother like that, but he is certainly easy on the eyes.”
“That he is,” was the soft response given. She could not recall a brother being mentioned in the books. She was certain that the King and Queen of Marcello had only born one child.
“He has always been Prince Alistair’s favorite companion. It doesn’t seem to matter to them that they don’t share the same mother. Jaceson is not treated with ill-regards by any, except the queen. They say she is afraid that he will try to take the throne someday.”
“Would he?”
“Never! He is loyal to all he cares for. Most loyal to his brother and now to you, m’lady.” Railynn turned back to the bed.
With the help of Nonna, Magnolia was able to get out of the tub, dried, and then into some clothing. She stood there in a white, lightweight, very loose-fitting dress, what she could only assume were nightclothes. Dragoste nuzzled her hand as he came to her side, having left the fireside where he had been sleeping.
“Railynn, I need you to please bring some boiling water.” Nonna watched her closely for a few minutes after the young girl had left the room. “Magnolia?”
She lifted her eyes to the old woman who was before her.
“My dear Magnolia, you have been through much.”
“Why do you call me that?” An eyebrow raised as she asked the question while being led over to the bed.
“Child, it is your name. Do you truly not remember?” Worry filled the kind old eyes that searched her face. “Your father and mother could not agree on a suitable name for you, so you were Christened Daciana Magnolia. Only I call you Magnolia, but now, Jaceson and Alistair have taken to calling you Mag at times, though not often.”
The two of them walked over to the window. They overlooked the sea, and Magnolia gazed at the rocky shoreline meeting with the expanse of blue water. The setting sun glinted off of the water, causing it to sparkle. It turned the distant clouds pink and purple, painting the sky just for her, it seemed.
“I don’t remember,” she finally whispered. She would have to relearn everything, put Magnolia behind her and become Daciana. She knew the memories were there, waiting to surface. Waiting for something to bring them crashing to the front of her mind. Perhaps if she began to think of this as her home, it would make everything easier. Because this was her home now; there was no going back to how things were.
Dragoste crossed the floor in one quick silent leap and nudged her softly as if he sensed her distress.
“I want to be left alone.”
Just then Railynn returned with the water that Nonna had requested. Nonna went to the table by the bed and picked up a small pouch. She poured a bit of its contents into a clean bowl then mixed it with water, making paste of some sort. “Come, let me put this on your wounds to take away the pain. Then you may rest.
Magnolia crossed the room and allowed the now incredibly warm mixture to be spread over the stiches that Nonna had already given her to close the knife wound. The pain stopped throbbing, diminishing to only a dull ache.
When Nonna finished, she and Railynn left her alone. Magnolia picked up the brush. She sat and pulled it through her long, damp, knotted hair. Once done detangling, she pulled her hair back into a tight fishtail and used a ribbon to tie it. She looked in the mirror to see that her neck had purple imprints of Gordon’s fingers. That explained why the men seemed so angry when she’d reached for her neck earlier.
She crossed the room to her bed, yanked back the covers, then lay down with Dragoste at her side. Although she was cold, she did not bother to pull the blanket back around her. She was no longer Magnolia Mae Romo. Now she was Daciana Magnolia Dietrex. Her people, the people of Avengar, needed her.
But she needed Jace. Tears slipped down her face. Was her brother waiting for her back on the farm? What did he think happened to her? Did he think she was dead? She was dead — Magnolia Mae no longer existed, and she had given her life so that Daciana could live. She had to remember that. When she thought of herself, she would have to think of Daciana. After all, that is who she had been her entire life. Her parents had known that, and a part of her believed that Jace had even known it all along. They had all accepted it; now it was time that she do the same. By coming back here, she had already altered history as she had known it. It was time for Magnolia to accept her true fate, to start ensuring that her people were taken care of.
Darkness surrounded her. She could hear him calling out, begging her to come to him. The more she moved, the harder it was to get anywhere. Tangled in the briars and brush, her body ached as she tried to move forward. Pain echoed in his voice as he called her name. A light shone ahead of her so that she could see his face. His golden brown eyes locked on hers, and a smile began to cross his face, only to be erased when Gordon stepped in front of him. She struggled urgently when she saw the glint of the blade going toward him. “Jace!” The scream left her, and she fell forward hitting the ground…
She opened her eyes when she hit the stone floor. Tears poured out of them. The door to her room flung open, and there was Jaceson. He crossed the room in four long strides and picked her up from the floor. He set her back on the bed, pulled the blanket up over her, then sat down, leaning his head against the edge of the bed.
She angled herself so that her head was closer to his. Loneliness tried to engulf her, but it was not so bad when Jaceson was near. A strand of hair had come out of the fishtail and hung over the edge of the bed. Jaceson tugged on it playfully.
“Nightmare.” The soothing quality of his voice washed over her.
A small sigh escaped her as she muttered a yes to his question which sounded more like a statement now that she thought about it.
“Gordon.” Again, a statement not a question.
Another muttered response was all she gave.
“It will get better. I will make him pay for what he did to you.”
“It wasn’t me, not in the nightmare.” Magnolia’s voice sounded small and fragile.
The fire was dying out, and a chill was creeping into the room. Jaceson moved to toss a few logs onto the fire, restoring it to life. He filled the cup with wat
er then went back to where he had been sitting just a moment before.
“Who then? Do you think he will go after this person?”
She listened intently to his voice, such familiar soothing qualities.
“The man looked like you.” It was not a lie, since he did look a lot him. “I couldn’t move. I was stuck. I couldn’t stop him. It all happened only a few feet in front of me, and I was helpless, trapped.” A single tear rolled down the side of her face to her ear.
“Ah, it was just a nightmare. Nothing to worry about.” He trained his golden eyes on the door that he had left slightly open. “You should have let me go after him. Then you wouldn’t have to be worrying if he came back or not.”
“I am not worried for myself.” Her voice grew stronger. “If you had killed him, then whoever sent him after me simply would have sent someone else in his place. No, it is better that he not even know that I am alive. Do you think he would have gone back to Marcello?”
“I am certain that is where he’s heading. Whoever he was working for would want to know if the deed was done. He’s probably on his way to collect his bounty.”
Suddenly it hit her. She sat up, causing Jaceson to look at her. “We need to send men to follow him. One or two — more than that would be noticeable. It cannot be any of my people. It would seem curious that they would leave their new home so quickly.” She found his golden eyes searching her green ones. “Don’t you see? If someone follows him, and he’s on his way to collect his bounty, then we can discover who’s truly behind this.” She nearly exclaimed the last part.
“That may work. I will send two of my men at first light. Get some rest m’lady.”
He turned so that he was facing the door. Across the room in less than a second, he flung the door open to reveal an infuriated Alistair on the other side of the door. “Why are you standing there?” he asked as he turned away and took up his self-appointed sentry post next to the bed.
“I should be asking why you are in Princess Daciana’s bedchambers alone.” Alistair stepped into the room. Shadows fell over his handsome face, concealing it from her eyes.
The Second Life of Magnolia Mae Page 6