22 Nights

by WINSTEAD JONES, LINDA

  She did shake and scream, and as her inner muscles quaked, he found his own release deep inside her. How could something so pleasurable be wrong? He did not care that she was older than he was, he did not care that people would talk. She was like no other woman in the world, and she was his. He could not remember details, she had taken them from him, but the feelings of possession remained. Leyla was his.

  No, she had been his, but no more. He could get lost in her body, and he was glad to have this encounter to remember, since she had taken his other memories from him. He could not trust a woman who had used her magic on him, and he would not be a burden to her as she started her new life.

  Leyla kissed him sweetly, and he was tempted to tell her that he loved her, one last time. He was certain he had told her before, perhaps many times. But if he said those words to her now, she would never let him walk away. She would follow him no matter where he went, obligated and forever bound.

  “I needed that,” Savyn said casually as he withdrew and moved away from Leyla to right his trousers. “It’s been a while—I think,” he added sourly, “and I was sorely in need of relief. So were you, judging by your reaction. It’s nice to know that one skill remains, sight or no.”

  “What?” He could hear the pain in Leyla’s voice, and was sorry for it, but the truth was impossible.

  “You heard me. I am blind, but you are not deaf, Lady Leyla.”

  He heard the rustle of her gown as she straightened her skirts.

  “So, what now?” he asked sharply. “The horse is gone.”

  “I never wanted to keep Trinity’s horse in any case,” Leyla said, her voice slightly thick. “Everything I took from the saddlebags is well hidden back at the hut.”

  Savyn tried to keep his expression impassive. He did not smile or frown. “I suspect you are not going to allow me to keep walking away from you.”

  “I can’t,” she whispered.

  “Then we will travel to the village up the road together, and there we will part. I suppose it would be best if we separate before we see the villagers. I will pass myself off as a traveling beggar, and you can make up whatever tale you wish to start your new life.”

  “I would like to stay with you,” Leyla said. “I can take care of you, at least until we know if your sight will return or not. It’s still too soon to say for certain.”

  “No,” Savyn said sharply. He knew she would argue with him, he knew she would be hard to shake, if she wished to remain with him. “You lied to me, Lady Leyla. You took my memories with your damned magic, you nearly drove me insane.”

  “I thought it was for the best,” she whispered.

  “Well, you did a good job, My Lady. I have forgotten. I thank you for the fucking, but if I ever loved you, that love is gone.”

  MERIN opened his eyes, surprised he’d slept so deeply. Bela still slept, naked and partially wrapped around him. It took a moment for him to realize that he was naked, too, and then he realized he was dreaming and he relaxed. What a nice dream.

  The walls sang the lullaby Bela had sung to him in order to dull their unwanted voices. It was a lovely lullaby, a soothing melody which comforted him, which pulled him into the deepest of sleeps.

  To be trapped in this enchanted mountain where voices invaded his mind should be a nightmare, a terror, but at this moment he did not feel at all terrified. He’d had nightmares before, and this was not one of them.

  Bela would not appear in any of his nightmares, he was sure. She was a woman of pleasant dreams, the participant in dreams he did not want to end. The kind where upon waking, he would try to fall asleep again quickly, so he could regain the wonder.

  She lifted her head and smiled at him, and her hands danced boldly along his body. Her hair fell in chestnut waves, and she gave him that wide and wonderful smile which made him love her.

  She fed him, taking freshly sliced fruit and roasted meat from a nearby plate and slipping the small pieces into his mouth. He was hungry, and it was good to eat something besides an oatcake. When he’d had his fill, he returned the favor and fed Bela, taking pieces of food from the golden plate that never seemed to diminish, no matter how much they ate. It was a dream, after all.

  After they had eaten, they kissed for a while. They kissed as if they had been apart for a very long time and could not stay apart. Bela was his, and she was so giving, so unguarded. His hand slipped between her thighs, and they opened for him. She was warm and wet, slick and ready.

  “Again, husband?” she whispered as her soft hand closed around his shaft.

  “Again,” he said, and the dream grew brighter than before.

  THE walk back to the hut seemed endless, but Savyn knew the journey took them a mere two days. A day and a half, more rightly. Along the way they had stopped to sleep on the side of the road, but neither of them had slept very long. The dangers of the night and the tension between them made it impossible.

  Savyn already felt guilty for being so harsh with Leyla, but it was best that the end of this relationship be decisive—even if that meant it had to be cruel. He could be ruthless where Leyla was concerned, if it meant she would make a better life without him.

  He was still angry with her for taking his memories away, but he could understand. She had been making the same sort of sacrifice for him that he now made for her, and she had made it in the only way she knew how. How could he make her understand that he cared nothing for the few years between them, or the whispers of jealous and unimportant people who had nothing better to do than to gossip about the lives others? If he could see, he would try to convince her of all that, but he could not, so he would let her go, just as she had tried to release him.

  Leyla was thankful when she saw the hut. She told him it was there, straight ahead, and he heard the touch of relief in her voice. Not joy—he could not remember ever hearing her speak with delight, he could not remember seeing joy in her fine, blue eyes. Had he made her happy in their times together? Had she taken away the only memories he had of joy in the woman he loved?

  There had been no joy in her eyes after they’d left Childers. Every time he’d managed to catch her eye during the journey, every time he’d studied her fine face with infatuation or admiration or love, he’d seen only sadness and resignation.

  Had giving him up hurt her, or was she always so cheerless?

  “I’m sorry,” he said as she led him through the hut’s uneven doorway.

  She did not pretend to be ignorant of his meaning. “There is no need to apologize. I was wrong. You have good reason to be angry.”

  Leyla did not ask him to forgive her; she did not plead her case or ask that they remain together after they reached the village. She simply sounded resigned to her fate. Resigned and doomed.

  IT was lovely to bathe in the river. Bela held on to Merin as they splashed water all over their bare bodies, as they bathed one another and touched as only a husband and wife can.

  She had become accustomed to the rainbow that was ever present in her dream, and she was no longer afraid of the river. The voices within it were quiet. They did not shout at her or torment Merin in the dream.

  Bela wrapped her arms around Merin’s neck. “I do love you,” she said, not caring if he returned the vow or not. “So very much.” He was hers entirely: heart, body, and soul. No other man would ever take his place. No other man would ever love her this way.

  He surprised her by saying the same words with just as much conviction. “I love you, Bela.” His mouth was on her throat for a moment, and then he added, “Just as you are, you are the perfect woman for me. I love you.”

  They were in the deepest part of the water. It rushed around them in a soft eddy, but they were not afraid. It caressed rather than fighting against them. The water swirled, capturing them gently.

  Merin lifted her off her feet, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. She did not think it was possible, but soon he was inside her, deep and thick. Of course this was a dream, and anything was possible
in a dream. They could likely fly above the water and make love on air. She laughed as she rode, holding on to Merin with her arms and with her thighs, seeking and giving pleasure. The water added a new sensation to the experience, washing over both of them as they sought and found a shared release.

  And then they did begin to float, rising out of the water still connected in body and by the braid which was again brightly colored and unmarred by time. The rainbow caught them and returned them to the side of the river, where they grasped one another and Merin told her again that he loved her.

  Bela suffered her first rush of unease. She longed for Merin to tell her that he loved her, but this was just a dream. Just a fantastic, vibrant dream.

  THE nap did not last long enough, and too soon Merin woke, ready to continue their journey. He woke Bela gently. Like him, she was surprised to have fallen asleep. She gave him an odd look, and when she did, he remembered a piece of a dream. A very good dream. Perhaps he’d slept longer than he’d realized, for such a detailed dream to stay with him this way.

  He and Bela began to walk again, keeping to the rocky bank of the buried river, following the rushing water. She was oddly silent, but he could not blame her. It had been a very long day.

  Eventually a distant, dull roar caught Merin’s attention and gave him hope that there was an end to this journey. His pace increased and so did Bela’s, as she easily kept up with him. The roar grew louder, more distinct, until he understood with relief and more than a little trepidation what would be waiting at the end of this river.

  Waterfall.

  Light soon joined the roar, adding to his hope. The little bit of sunlight that fought its way through the cavern made the crystals sparkle all the more fiercely. Suddenly there were gleams of brilliant blue and deep lavender added to the shimmering light, then a hint of yellow sparked here and there, as if the crystals struggled to catch the sun.

  And then he saw the exit they had been searching for. He saw light—though not a lot of it fought through the rushing water that escaped the mountain in a gush. There was no way to know how far the fall from the exit would be, or if the water below was deep enough to catch them safely.

  “This is it, isn’t it?” Bela said, her voice raised so he could hear her above the roar.

  “I believe so,” he shouted in response. They had followed the river, as depicted in the cavern carving, and if what they had seen was correct, this was the way to escape. There had been no waterfall on the wall, however, no warning that this was what waited.

  The water rushed strong and fast now. Their only option was to jump in the water and let it take them where they needed to go. There were many options when it came to the outcome. They could drown, be smashed against rocks far below, break bones in a shallow pond . . . and then drown. Or they could fly from this mountain on a rush of enchanted water and land safely in a deep pool, and from there they could make their way to freedom. What choice was there, truly?

  Bela eyed the rushing water suspiciously, obviously uncertain, obviously worried.

  Sometimes worrying was the worst part.

  Merin grabbed Bela and held her tight against his chest. He kissed her, deeply and quickly, then said, “Take a deep breath, love.”

  With only a touch of panic in her eyes she obeyed him. And they jumped.

  BELA held her breath, as Merin instructed. Together they plunged into the rushing water. Voices much like Kitty’s assaulted them, but they seemed to be encouraging rather than embittered or hateful. They were also quite confident in tone. One word made sense to her. Fly.

  Great.

  Merin’s arms held her tight, and she held on to him as well. Bela wondered if they would be able to hang on to one another as they went over the waterfall. The water was fierce, as it had been in the carving on the cavern wall. She told herself that in that particular succession of images, they had survived. Could she trust her life to an ancient stick figure drawing? Apparently she just had.

  They were pulled under, deep, and then they were pushed past glimmering rock and into a more natural light. Sunlight. As soon as they left the mountain, the voices ceased.

  And she and Merin did fly.

  They were ripped apart, unable to hold on to one another in the rush of water, but the braided rope remained.

  They were in the waterfall, a part of the river as it escaped the mountain. A scream was ripped from Bela’s throat, and her arms flailed uselessly. They should’ve cut the rope before jumping into the water. They should’ve taken a knife and severed the braided cord. If Merin had given her time to think, she would’ve suggested it, but he had not.

  The fall was great, but not deadly. They splashed into the water below, landing in a deep pool that swirled and churned beneath the waterfall, then turned more peaceful as it gently flowed away from the mountain. The cord which connected them was stretched to the limit, but not for long. They had been apart and then they came together again, as was right.

  Bela sputtered as she broke the surface, and Merin did the same. Then he laughed. He laughed.

  “Have you lost your mind?” she asked as they swam toward shore. Given the long time he’d been in the crystal-influenced water, listening to those voices, it was certainly possible.

  “No,” he said, sounding quite sane until he added, “That was fun.”

  “Fun?” she said sharply, as their feet found ground and they stood in the pond.

  “Yes.” He looked at her, curling hair wet and hanging past his shoulders, beard making him look primitive, handsome still, with his clothing stuck to his fine body here and there.

  Before they’d jumped, he had called her “love.” He’d never used an endearment for her before, and after the dreams she’d had, “love” seemed particularly appropriate.

  Now was not the time to ask Merin if he loved her. They had greater concerns.

  They stepped slowly to the rocky shore, walking easily through the gently rushing water in the shallows. Not far below, the valley turned green, fed by the water and the sun. Exhausted, they sat on the first suitable dry rock they could claim, breathing hard and deep. Bela was surprised to see the sun still so high in the sky. It had seemed as if more time had passed while they’d traveled through the mountain. Nothing was as it seemed in the caverns, which were as enchanted as Kitty.

  After a few minutes, Bela asked, “Why didn’t you cut the rope before we jumped?”

  “We’re in this together, Bela, for better or for worse.”

  “Yes, but it was dangerous. We should’ve cut the rope.”

  A muscle in his jaw clenched. “I wasn’t sure you’d wish to remain married, now that we’ve seen what the future holds. If we sever the bonds, we’ll be wed for another three years, and then we’ll have to go through this all over again.”

  She was hurt, more than a little. Last night and this morning it had seemed to be decided. They would remain married. She would be his wife and he would be her husband. There would be children.

  But that had been before the revelation that their daughter was meant to be a warrior who carried Kitty, before all the questions about how they had come to be here and the wondering about the authenticity of their emotions. Exactly how much had they been led to end up here?

  “Besides,” he added in a more casual tone, “we gave our word.”

  “You would rather die than break your word?”

  He looked her in the eye. “I suppose I would.”

  For a long while they stared at one another. She knew these dark brown eyes so well, they were a comfort to her. What did Merin see when he looked into her eyes? Did he take comfort in her, or did he wonder if he truly knew her at all?

  Merin finally turned his gaze to the west and frowned. “We were inside the mountain for hours, though I swear it seemed like longer, and now we must make our way to the other side and down again. We have to get back to the village before Nobel comes again.”

  “The others will be ready for him. He won’t catch us unaware
again.”

  “I would like to be there, in any case.”

  Bela sighed. “So would I. Our swords will be needed.” She grimaced. “Drat. I will need a new sword, straight-away.”

  Merin turned his head to look at her, and suddenly they seemed closer. “I don’t suppose I can convince you to hide yourself away with the other women while we fight Nobel and his men.”

  “You’re right about that. I do not hide from a fight, not ever.”

  “Not even if you’re carrying a daughter destined to be born? ”

  “If I am, and if she is destined to be born, then I’ll survive the fight.”

  Merin frowned. “Why does that argument not make me feel any better?”

  He hadn’t said that he loved her; he saved those words for her dreams. But he did care. Would he still care about her when they were away from Kitty’s influence? Had the enchanted sword ever had power to affect their emotions as well as their thoughts? And who had carved her life into a stone wall?

  The same someone who had made Kitty, she supposed.

  Bela sat up and glanced around the pond. This was truly an enchanted place, lush and beautiful against a backdrop of rock, verdant amid a barren land. Just as on the other side of Forbidden Mountain, there were no animals, no life beyond the plants and the water itself. In all the years this had existed, why had it not drawn life? Did the powers of the mountain drive away all life, even here? If that was true, why did she feel as if she could stay here forever and be perfectly content?

  Surely the power of the crystals had driven away any who dared set foot here, just as it had on the other side of this mountain. She and Merin were welcome here, at least for now, for reasons Bela did not wish to dwell upon.

  “We have a long while until darkness,” she said, rising slowly to her feet. Her legs were still shaking a little as she surveyed the side of the mountain and pointed. “If we hurry, we can reach that ridge before sunset. From there it should be an easy enough trip to the other side. See the way the rock winds just so? We can walk that with no problem. Coming out on this side of the mountain might cost us only another three or four days.”