Catching sight of the closet, Leyna felt her mind spark with an idea, remembering vaguely two mornings past, the cloak Feolan had provided her for cover when he saw her back to the house. There were pockets inside it. Deep enough to hold a letter without being noticed. And if she folded the fabric, it would conceal it even more from the prying eyes of whoever played courier. She could pen a note to Feolan. But who could she have take it? Kael would be remaining behind, but she couldn’t let anyone in that house see his eyes.
“Well, if I am to be leaving so soon, I should make sure my belongings are packed and ready for travel,” she nodded, standing up from the bed. “It will not take me long, if you wish to come back and see me one last time before we go. You can help load my bag into the carriage.”
“As you wish,” Kael smiled, hesitantly. He looked uncomfortable with the situation, and how could she blame him? He would be left behind in Siscal for weeks without her, never knowing where she was or what was happening at any given moment.
Another wave of fear passed through her. He had made it clear that the sorcery allowed him to see her when she was away. What if his worry led him to utilize the magic again, out of fear for her safety?
No. She wouldn’t let that happen. She would make sure to express her disapproval of it before they parted ways. For him to continue to use it in her absence would go against everything they discussed in hopes of helping to save him. “Meet me back here in an hour, then,” she said, walking with him anxiously toward the door. “There is still much we need to speak on before I leave, so do not be late. I will be waiting.”
The next two weeks passed in a blur of landscapes through the carriage window for Leyna. Conversations were dominated by Oksuva and Gislan, chattering excitedly about Kyros and Damir. Gislan had acquired something of an obsession with Kyros. She couldn’t talk about him enough, rambling about his body and his lips, and how she intended to seduce him, to have him for her own. While she spoke, she kept her eyes on Zander, watching for him to become jealous at the thought, only to grow more agitated at Zander’s lack of interest.
They bypassed much of the desert by following the border along Carpaen and Siscal, moving through the lusciously green forests of Tanispa. Leyna was amazed by the fertile lands of Kaipoi, given its close proximity to the harsh heat and sands, managing to maintain its climate from where it lay to the furthest northern reaches of the country.
When they reached their rooms at the inn in Kaipoi, Oran was waiting for them, providing directions to a location where Damir agreed meet. He required them to wait another week before he would accept them for a visit. Another week with her trapped in the company of these people she couldn’t stand.
“So what exactly did you do to anger Gislan,” Leyna asked Zander curiously, gazing at her reflection in the tiny vanity mirror of her room. “She has been doing everything she can to get under your skin and you could not be less affected by it. You are going to drive the woman insane.”
“She is already insane,” he laughed. “I have been enjoying the freedom from her constant need for attention. Do you have any idea how hard it is to pretend to enjoy her company? It is even worse when we are alone. I would much rather kiss a ghereac than touch her.”
“What a horrible thought.” Twisting her hair around her index finger, Leyna toyed with the spiral curls she’d chosen to wear for their meeting with Damir, hoping to make her appearance look less similar to that of her mother’s. She knew she bore a remarkable resemblance, which would only make matters worse when faced with Damir. She couldn’t expect him to have forgotten the woman he once called his wife. Inevitably, she would bring back the memory in his mind. She just had to make sure it wasn’t quite so obvious.
“If you must know, she caught me looking at you while we were in the carriage, on our way to meet with Kyros in Siscal,” Zander explained. “You have to know that you looked stunning that night. I couldn’t keep my eyes off you, and since she still believes that you and I were intimate, she took offense to it, viewing you as a challenge and doing everything in her power to make me jealous. But I really don’t care. She is worthless to me. She has not been able to provide any pertinent information for the mission in years. The only benefit my relationship with her has had is that I was able to still see you every once in a while to make sure you were being treated well.”
Rising from the vanity stool, Leyna smoothed out the linen fabric of her chemise. “It must be killing her to know you came up here to visit with me then, rather than her.” Absently, she pulled the gown she intended to wear from the closet, laying it across the bed to inspect it. “Under normal circumstances, I never would have allowed you in here while I need to get dressed, but you are the only person here I can stand and I cannot tie up my own corset.”
“You women are all crazy for wearing those. But I like it.”
With practiced fingers, she wrapped the corset around her midsection, fastening up the clasps in the front. The stays forced her back straight, improving her posture as she motioned for Zander to come closer, pointing over her shoulder to the laces. “I typically do not wear one, but this dress requires it and Oksuva insists this be the one I wear.”
Her eyes trailed over the deep forest-green shade of the dress laid out over the white sheets. The neckline formed a diamond shape over the chest, creating an opening to reveal the skin before connecting again at the top of the breastbone to elegantly cover the throat. Tight at the upper arms, the sleeves came down to the elbow where they flared out, draping down with a bell-shaped design, accenting the green with a pure white floral lace around the edges.
She coughed at the tugging of Zander’s hands over the laces, drawing the corset tighter over her ribs. He was surprisingly skilled with it. Leyna wondered how many corsets he would have had to lace and unlace to become so accustomed to the design. “You are more familiar with women’s garments than I gave you credit for.”
“I have been around a fair share of them,” he chuckled, leading Leyna over to the high posts on the bed to hold onto, the pull becoming more severe. She circled her arms around the wood, nearly falling over from the force of Zander’s hands. “I know, you must think me terrible. It is nothing like it sounds, however.”
“I am sure it isn’t. Those poor girls.” Her breath left her again with the final jerk of the corset laces. “Though perhaps you were doing them a favor in helping them to breathe by taking off their clothes.”
Snickering to himself, Zander moved around Leyna to the bed, lifting the dress over her head. “While the conversation amuses me, I find it hard to believe you asked me here to talk about my excursions with women’s clothing. You looked a bit troubled. Was there something on your mind?”
Well, that was an understatement. Everything was on her mind. It had been so easy to convince herself the meeting would be to her advantage, but now that the day was upon her, she was not so sure. “I need to tell you something, and it cannot ever go beyond these walls,” she sighed. Awkwardly she shifted the dress down over the rest of her body, her movement limited by the stiff stays of the corset. “Not even the Consul is aware of this, and it must remain that way until I have an opportunity to explain it to him.”
“You have my attention and concern, Leyna. I will speak of it to no one.”
“I have a bit of a history with this man. Damir Rohld.” Hearing the words come from her lips, she regretted speaking of it. Why did she feel so compelled to share this information with Zander? Maybe because he was the only person there who would be able to help her if things went awry? “While I cannot and will not elaborate on the details, it is important that you know this situation could be very dangerous for me. When I was a child, he wanted me dead. I doubt his opinion has changed much over time. If he recognizes me, it could ruin everything.”
“What kind of history could you possibly have with this man?”
“I said I would not elaborate. I was not speaking in jest,” Leyna stated flatly. “In time, I am sure all will be revealed, whe
ther I desire it or not, but for now, while I still have some say in the matter, it will remain unspoken. I ask that you respect that, and simply promise me you will try to help me if anything happens.”
“Of course,” he nodded. His hands moved up the buttons on the back of Leyna’s dress, fastening them securely into place. “Stay by me when we get there. Keep your head down, eyes to the ground. Oksuva may want to have you stand out to him, but you need to do everything you can to blend in. There is only so much I can do, however. If he demands to see you, we have to obey. We can’t risk the whole mission unless we know for a fact there is no other choice.”
Before Leyna could respond, Yasar’s voice sounded through the door, raspier than she was accustomed to. “Bedrick has arrived. Lady Oksuva has asked that you come down as you are. There is no more time to waste.”
Hurrying to the door, Leyna pulled it open, breathless, but wanting to make sure Yasar was witness to her being fully clothed and ready to go. She suspected the order from Oksuva was indicative of a suspicion regarding her being alone with Zander. Leyna didn’t want to risk any false rumors getting back to Kael after they had only just managed to work through their troubles. “We will follow you down, then,” she huffed, placing her hand over her stomach. The corset was so tight she could hardly breathe. The exertion of her movement to answer the door only made it worse.
They moved quickly down the stairs to the lobby of the inn, finding Oksuva and Gislan waiting for them. Leyna’s chest was burning. It was reminiscent of her illness when the fluid had been crushing her lungs, only this time it was her clothing to blame, and she for some reason was doing so willingly. Why anyone would want to feel so miserable was beyond her grasp.
“I hope we interrupted,” Gislan sneered, laughing irritably to herself.
“That requires us to have been doing something which could have been interrupted,” Zander smirked. “Unlike you, Eleni knows how to keep her skirts down.”
If Leyna could have gotten the breath to laugh, she would have. The expression on Gislan’s face was priceless. At first the insult failed to register in Gislan’s mind, realization slowly dawning, the finely arched brows over her eyes furrowing in rapidly growing anger. “Or maybe she just knows that you are incapable of satisfying a woman.”
“You would be easier to satisfy if you had not bedded every man within the borders of Siscal.”
“Oh, stop it!” Oksuva shouted. “I do not have time to deal with your petty lover’s quarrel right now. If you cannot act mature for one evening, then I suggest you both just go back to your rooms, because I will not tolerate it.” She started to move toward the lobby door, pausing briefly to glance over her shoulder at Gislan. “However, he does have a point, sister. You really should work on a technique called playing hard to get – if you ever come across a man who does not already know that you are easy.”
“I am not easy. I am very particular about the men I choose.”
“Is that why you were in the presence of Kyros for less than five minutes and had already decided you wanted to crawl into his bed?” Oksuva rolled her eyes. Waving dismissively, she stepped through the door, not giving Gislan a chance to speak.
Leyna followed her out with Zander at her heels. Oran greeted them somberly at the carriage door, his eyes opening wider at Leyna’s approach. She hated not being able to read what was in his eyes through the darkness there. It was impossible to know what he was thinking or feeling, those black holes seemingly looking at everything and nothing at the same time, never changing to reveal any emotion.
He helped them into the carriage, taking his seat on one side of Leyna, placing her in the middle between him and Zander. Yasar and Oksuva positioned themselves across the coach. Gislan entered a few moments later, sitting down next to Yasar, staring daggers at Leyna through her narrowed eyes and painted lashes. She relied more on the make-up these days than she had when Leyna first met her. The years were not being kind to her features; making her appear older than her sister, despite Oksuva’s climbing age in comparison.
During their ride, Leyna couldn’t help but admire Oksuva’s regal countenance, showing no sign of concern or worry for what would come to pass at the meeting. She was confident. The item which she possessed was of great importance and she knew it, counting on it to be enough to gain Damir’s favor, as well as his aid in her dark plans. Her dress was golden, accented by jewels everywhere she could find a place for them. Gold-set pearls dangled elegantly from her rounded ears, matching the elaborate necklace and brooch decorating her dainty collarbone. Rings sparkled from nearly every finger on her hands. She could have passed for a woman of rank easily had she chosen to try.
Their silent journey dragged on for nearly three hours with nothing but the sound of the horses’ hooves. Leyna was anxious to get out of the cramped carriage. While it was large enough to hold all of them, it was clear to her that the capacity was beyond what was intended, squeezing them in at an uncomfortable proximity to the others.
Stepping down to the moist earth, she felt her slippers sink into the soil. A chill ran through her at the sight of their destination. An open field, surrounded on all sides by trees spreading into the distance, the only method of reaching it being the thin gravel road they had traveled on. From the unkempt grass in the field rose numerous headstones of granite and sandstone, cluttered in some places while others were scattered further out, separated by sections of untouched ground.
A cemetery. But why would Damir have requested them to meet there? She had to admit it lent a foreboding feeling to the business. The stories she’d heard of the Ven’shal were enough to make her leery of what Damir’s intentions would be. Arcastus was known to be able to raise the dead, though the requirements to do so were beyond Leyna’s knowledge. After all, it was his refusal to attempt raising Mescavis’s wife which had sparked an entire war. But did anyone really know what Mescavis had done to the corpse? And was it that Arcastus drew the line at reviving it, or was he incapable of doing so?
Off in the distance she could make out a shadowy figure propped up against a large grave marker at the back of the cemetery. It was cloaked, concealing the face from view, the posture resembling that of a man. Broad shoulders, tall, even while leaning.
She didn’t want to see him. Her courage was slipping away in his presence, remembering the way Damir had looked at her the last night she saw his face. The flashing rage in his eyes. They had not yet been taken over by the inky blackness then, but it had been there, slowly building, growing darker while he summoned the sorcery in his attempts to kill her. I should have her head on a pike in my yard! She recalled his words vividly.
Fearfully she turned around. In her panic, she couldn’t think clearly enough to maintain her composure, walking straight into the solid form of Oran standing directly behind her. “What is the matter, my dear?” he asked calmly. She shivered at the touch of his skin against her arms, holding her still to look into her eyes. “You look frightened.”
“Not at all,” she stammered. Silently she scolded herself for her behavior, hoping it wouldn’t draw any unwanted attention to her. “I just wanted to make sure everyone was still coming. I think Lady Oksuva should lead us, since she is the one who has requested the meeting. I would not want to look like I was attempting to over step my bounds.”
“You looked as though you were attempting to flee.”
“I have no reason to flee. It is an honor to meet Master Rohld,” she lied, her eyes shifting pleadingly over to Zander as he stepped from the carriage. Catching her gaze, he crossed the grass to where Oran held her, smiling charmingly.
“I will escort Eleni. I suspect Lady Oksuva would rather you be on her arm during the introductions to your man there.”
Oran looked Zander over appraisingly, his head tilting to one side in curiosity. “You do not want to escort the Lady Gislan?”
“I would rather pluck out my own eyes,” Zander smirked. “You may want to watch out for her yourself, and send a warni
ng to your man Kyros. She is on the prowl for a new toy to chew up and spit out.”
A twitch of a smile passed over a single corner of Oran’s mouth. It was quick, but served as the only reaction in his face to reveal a hint of amusement at Zander’s words. Giving in to his request, Oran released his hold on Leyna’s arms, motioning for her to go to Zander. “Very well. But keep to the front. Damir has expressed an interest in meeting Miss Eleni.”
Another wave of panic washed through her. How did he know about her? There was no telling what Kyros and Oran had told him. She feared that Kyros had recognized her. But to have continued the meeting so nonchalantly, making no move to show that he knew. She felt as though they were toying with her like a cat with a mouse, batting her around before they sank their teeth in. It wasn’t safe for her to be there. For the first time since she’d gotten into the business of undercover work, she genuinely wanted out. She was in over her head.
It was a miserable feeling, the truth. Inadequacy. She wasn’t sagacious enough to handle this by herself. Things were becoming too personal for her to focus on the mission, and the danger was far greater with these men than it ever was with Mikel, even more so with her past involving them. And no one knew! That was the worst part about it all. If Thade had been aware of the details of her past, he never would have allowed her to come to this meeting, regardless of how difficult it might have been for him to tell her no. And if he’d stood firm on his decision to prevent her from coming, she wasn’t sure she would have been able to say no to him either.
Zander was already leading her forward. Oran guided Oksuva through the unevenly spaced headstones, bringing them closer to the casual figure, watching them, scrutinizing, taking in details of their mannerisms before any of them could even say a word. She couldn’t see his face, but she could feel his eyes on her. He’d taken note of her so soon. There would be no hiding from him the way she’d hoped to, losing any chance she had of blending in at Zander’s side.
The Myatheira Chronicles: The Vor'shai: From the Ashes (Volume 1) Page 53