“Yes. He understands you.”
She cleared her throat. “Thank you for caring that he acted like such a jerk. But it’s okay to let him in now.”
The bird loosened his grip on her enough to let Hadrian slip in to sit with her. “I haven’t been fair. I haven’t told you the truth.”
“The truth?” She felt like a parrot, because she needed to repeat nearly everything he said to understand him. It was ridiculous that he claimed she spoke in circles—it was he who was impossible to get to know.
“I can’t let myself know you because I was once in love with your older sister. When she died—let me rephrase that, when the poison your father used on her killed her—something inside me shattered. It was terrible in so many ways—death was not something I was prepared for. I assumed she’d be like Zamara, since she was her daughter, and we live much longer than you.”
Hadley had never thought of those other women who came before her as her sisters and the word stung her eyes and caused pain in her stomach. They were her sisters as much as Hailey was, and they were dead when they should have lived long lives.
“Which one was she, A through G?” She swallowed. Her mouth felt dry.
“A. Her name was Annabelle and she was a redhead like you. Well, sort of like you.” Hadley didn’t like being compared unfavorably to anyone but she supposed she could forgive it since he’d loved the woman.
“I’m sorry for your loss, Hadrian. Sometime you should tell me about her. But I think it just confirms what I already knew. You and I should spend as little time together as possible. And you don’t have to worry about me making any more advances on your body.”
He nodded, although she thought she saw regret in his eyes. She chose to ignore that while she pretended her own words hadn’t caused her so much distress she couldn’t breathe.
“I’ll find a way to keep my hands off you too.”
It was completely wrong to feel jealous of one’s dead sister.
Chapter Eight
As the giant bird landed in front of his childhood home, balancing as only trained carriers could, Hadrian should have felt thrilled by the bird’s skill—would have if his thoughts had not been otherwise occupied. Hadley had done her best impression of a mute for the remainder of the trip. She was either very angry with him or so hurt she just couldn’t utter words. The truth was, he should never have told her about Annabelle. There was no reason for her to know and now that she did, he would always wonder if she pitied him.
The hawk touched the ground gently, with hardly a bump, but Hadley grimaced as though she’d just been through a jostling. He smiled openly. For someone so brave, the woman had some hang-ups that just couldn’t be ignored.
She glared at him. “Don’t laugh at me, Hadrian. I’m sure there is something in this world or another that you’re afraid of. If I happen to still be living and I have the good luck to witness your terror, I can assure you I will not make fun of you.”
He cleared his throat. There was no point in playing tit for tat with her right now. It hadn’t even been a full hour since he’d unleashed his nasty temper on her and been deliberately awful. She could still take shots at him if she wanted to.
“So this is my ancestral home.”
“It’s beautiful, like a stone cottage in New England, only twice as big.”
It was a good description, very apt, and he was surprised it had never occurred to him to make that comparison the entire time he’d lived in her dimension.
“My family has been in the Warrior class for eight generations. That means we train to be and then eventually become protectors of the royal family.”
She nodded, stepping down from the bird’s claws and ignoring the hand he offered her. “I gathered that much. You were, after all, sent with Zamara on her dimensional trip gone bad. All the men call you their prince but you don’t associate yourself with the royals, so I assumed that meant you were the head of whatever clan or group you all belong to.”
He needed to remember how smart and intuitive she was. Hadley was not a woman who needed things explained to her. Annabelle had been sweet and funny but if he’d ever attempted to explain all the intricate details of this, the poor dear’s head might have exploded.
Shaking his head, he felt awful for having thought that. What kind of person remembered the woman they had loved as anything but a perfect being?
Hadley walked toward his house, her arms crossed in front of her chest. He couldn’t help but admire the tight, snug cling of her pajama pants on her rear end.
Swallowing, he tried to ignore the tug on his groin. There were other things to focus on, like getting the girl some clothes, since she still wore the sleeping attire she’d been in when they’d kidnapped her.
Hadrian turned around and petted the bird that had flown them there. The screech in its throat was the entire acknowledgment he got before it took off, practically shooting from the ground as it regained the sky. The other birds that had carried the warriors took off after it in single file.
He missed the bird dance his previous flock would have engaged in. But he hadn’t earned adoration from this group. In fact, they were lucky they had come to pick them up at all. He sighed.
“My prince.” Stone’s voice garnered his attention.
Hadrian realized what a terrible host he was. “You have been to my home before, yes?” Stone motioned his head in the direction of the house and Hadrian followed his gaze.
Hadley stood at the doorway, speaking with an elderly woman. Walking forward, Hadrian focused his attention on the woman in the doorway. Who was that? Had his family hired new help? It wouldn’t surprise him but it still seemed strange. His father had employed the same people for a thousand years. Feeling suddenly as if he needed to run, he picked up his pace. When he reached the front door, his heart pounded.
“Hadrian, your mother was just welcoming us.” Hadley’s smile seemed genuine as she turned her attention from the older woman to him.
“Please call me Leopard, my dear.” His mother turned her attention from Hadley to look at him. “Welcome home, my son.”
The woman’s voice shook and Hadrian narrowed his eyes. He couldn’t utter a word. Certainly she resembled his mother. But this woman who was far too old to be his mom. There should have been another thousand years before she looked like this. Had she gotten ill?
“Mother.” It seemed an inane thing to say, but under the circumstances he wasn’t sure what else could be said. Hadley sucked in her breath. This was obviously not the reaction she would have expected after his long absence.
The woman who had given birth to him reached out and touched his arm. “I can only imagine your questions.” She raised her voice so his men could hear her. “Come inside, all of you.”
The smell of cooked pheasant wafted through the air and Hadrian took a deep breath. There was no doubt he was home in his mother’s kitchen. He could almost imagine her saying the prayer of thanks to the animals for the bounty. He’d watched her do it a thousand times as a child but he’d all but forgotten it in two hundred years.
Hadrian stood dumbfounded as his mother meticulously laid the dining room table for company. He had so many questions but he couldn’t bring himself to ask. How did you inquire of the woman who’d borne you why she had gotten so old?
When the plates were set and everyone was seated, his mother reached out and grabbed his arm. “I am not as you expected me.”
Hadrian shook his head. “Mother, I did not think you would have aged this much in such a short period of time.”
Hadley laughed. “I have a hard time coming to terms with the fact that to you the period you spent on earth was comparatively brief.”
“What should have been a short jaunt became longer than expected. Everyone thought you’d be back in less than a hundred years,” his mother uttered solemnly.
“As we would have, Mother, had things gone as they should. I advised the princess not to go to that cursed blue planet.” Hadrian c
ouldn’t hide the contempt in his voice or miss the flare in Hadley’s eyes when he said it.
“The Seers have watched you for some time. We’ve all hoped and prayed for your return.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I took an oath to protect the princess. It eats at me every second that I am here that she is still there.”
His mother nodded, tears in her eyes. “I know, my son. I’ve always understood what happened, as did the royals. But I’m afraid Zamara’s exit did more than break our hearts figuratively.”
“Please, Madame Leopard, won’t you explain more?” Stone sat at the edge of his seat. “Please forgive me, but it is not just your appearance that has struck us as odd. The roads, this entire place seems to be in disarray.”
“It is.” She sighed. “And you haven’t even gotten to Astor yet.”
“Why did Zamara’s leaving do this?” Hadrian could feel his pulse pounding in every part of his body. Now he wasn’t just responsible for Zamara’s captivity and forced breeding but for the destruction of his entire world.
“It seems, and we were all completely unaware of this before, that in order for the metaphysical strength to continue on Haven, there needs to be a balance within the royal family. You will recall that Zamara’s aunt, the Princess Ledroina, moved on to the next plane of existence right before you left. Zamara held the same power as she did— the healing, life-sustaining abilities that kept this place thriving and our people young for many generations.”
Hadley tapped her finger on the table in what Hadrian thought must be an unconscious gesture. “So when my mother left, things started to age more quickly, to fall apart?”
His mother nodded. “Absolutely correct. It hit the older generation first—they are almost all gone, and now my generation is affected. All the younger people—your contemporaries and younger—have been sent to Astor for testing and evaluation to see
if anyone holds enough of that ability to perhaps save us.”
“So that is where Rabbit and Dragon are.” Hadrian looked at his hands. He’d been in such a state of anxiety that he hadn’t even asked about his older brother and younger sister.
“That’s right, darling.” His mother coughed violently and held a napkin against her mouth.
“And Dad?”
“We lost him six months ago.” Unshed tears glistened in her eyes but did not fall. Hadrian was not surprised. Women like his mother, the kind who could be married to a Warrior and raise a Warrior man, did not cry even over the death of their beloved. That was something he’d appreciated about women from Earth—if they loved someone and that person died, it was considered perfectly appropriate for them to express their grief in a physical manner.
If his mother had been the center of his life at home, impressing their father had been the focus of his existence outside the house. His father had once fought nearly to the death to protect the king from an attack by a would-be conqueror from the Tribunal Dimension. He had wanted nothing more than to honor his family in the same way.
Hadrian’s first trip out of his own dimension, and things had gone so terribly awry that not only had he failed the princess, his father was now dead. Grief and self-loathing threatened to overwhelm him.
Hadrian closed his eyes.
Hadley gently touched his arm. “There was no way you could have known, Hadrian. You were doing everything you could to protect Zamara until there was simply nothing else to do. Like everyone has been telling me, two hundred years is not that long a stretch here.” Hadley’s voice sounded so sincere. He opened his eyes to see her staring intently at him.
Ridiculously, her belief in him made him feel slightly better.
“Am I wrong, or have you never faced this problem before because you always had more than one person in the royal family with the particular ability? There was always at least one person present who had whatever it was everyone needed.”
His mother nodded her assent to Hadley’s question and he smiled at how well they already got along. He knew he’d have to face the music with the royals in the morning at Astor, but for now it was good to be home and it was exceptional to have Hadley believe in him, especially because he had yet to do anything to earn her trust.
“There’s more.” His mother sighed and her crinkled face looked so worn and distraught that he wanted to scream at the unfairness of it all.
“What’s that?”
He looked at his men. They sat stoically in silence, each absorbing every blow as he expected they would. Somewhere over the last two centuries they had all become accepting of bad news, as it was the norm. Optimism was no longer a word in their vocabulary.
“The Great Ones have stopped speaking to the royals. They’ve abandoned Haven.”
Hadrian sucked in his breath. This was dire news. In all the history of Haven, the Great Ones had never vanished. They had been a constant comfort to the royal family, Astor and all of Haven. It had distressed him no end to see them hunted and pursued on earth.
“Who are the Great Ones?” Hadley’s eyes were wide.
“They’re the animals of the royal family. Well, not really. No one calls them their own animal. There’s never been anyone born who could command them but they’ve always spoken to the royal family, advised them and helped. With every dimension we visited, their elusiveness was the same. It’s really amazing, actually. Nowhere had anyone ever really seen one and certainly we never found them in any aquariums or cages.” He hadn’t given it much thought before—there had been no time—but now it seemed so clear. “Some animals are missing from certain dimensions. The first time I saw an elephant on Earth I stood like an idiot with my mouth open—we don’t have them in Haven—but the Great Ones are everywhere, and nowhere have they been captured alive.”
“I know what you’re talking about, Hadrian.” Hadley’s pupils were big. She closed her mouth and he realized he’d never seen someone sit so perfectly still and yet seem so completely unglued before.
“You searched for them yourself, Hadley. They eluded you.”
She paused for a moment and when she spoke her voice sounded rough. “Sort of.”
This was going to be one of those situations where he had no idea of the direction of her thoughts. “What do you mean?”
“Before I got here, before you explained to me about my mother’s heritage and brought me here, I thought they were just dreams.” She audibly swallowed. “But when we were dimension-hopping and I was so afraid that I was going to die because there was so much pain, I heard it when I was awake too.”
Hadrian’s heart pounded. He had no idea what she was about to say but it was one of those moments in life when he was certain something of significance was about to happen. “Heard what, darling?”
His mother turned her head sharply to look at him and he had no idea why, but he only wanted to look at Hadley. It was as if he’d suddenly developed tunnel vision and his whole world revolved around her.
“The giant squid, Hadrian. I’ve dreamed of them for years. Only recently, they’ve started speaking to me. It was part of my drive to find them—it has felt like a compulsion since I was a child. But I heard her voice during our descent to Haven and she knew you too. She told me you wouldn’t hurt me.”
“Oh Hadrian.” His mother’s voice filled with emotion. “You brought us back salvation. They speak to her.”
Hadley gripped the table in front of her and he reached out and grabbed her hand.
Her eyes looked panicked. “I’m not anyone’s salvation. It’s not as if we’ve ever had a face-to-face conversation.”
He shrugged his shoulders, pretending a calm for Hadley’s sake that he did not feel.
“How could you, on Earth? Don’t worry. When we get to Astor, the Great Ones there will either greet you or they won’t. You did your part of this deal when you opened the portal. Now we just need to get you healthy.”
But Hadrian didn’t believe his own words, and the crocodile’s greeting by the lake when they arrived made more s
ense. The Seers had seen Hadley coming—they knew what her arrival meant. It was more than likely that Hadley’s arrival signified the end of this dark time. That meant that whether she liked it or not, the royals were going to have expectations of her.
Silently, he made the first vow he’d made since swearing to protect Zamara. He would not fail Hadley. Whatever happened, she would not be hurt or distressed in any way. All of Haven could be damned.
As he stared across the table into her green, mist-filled eyes, he wondered if somehow she had heard his silent oath. He hoped she had.
Chapter Nine
Hadley lay in the darkness of the guest room she’d been given and tried to make her head stop pounding. She had no idea if they even got headaches on Haven or if was just what Hadrian would think of as her “weak human side” that caused the pounding in her temples. So rather than ask for a pain reliever, she opted to suffer in silence.
Besides, it wasn’t as though she could take a pill that could make her thoughts calm down. Why had she told them she spoke to the giant squid? Maybe she really was just deluding herself or perhaps it had been a one-time thing.
She was sure she was no one’s savior.
Hadley rolled over onto her stomach and pushed her head down onto the pillow. For a moment she tried counting backward in her mind to see if she could distract herself, but that only managed to make her frustrated, which left her with no choice but to roll over again.
Unsure of who had the room next to hers, she attempted to ignore the loud snores that sounded through the wall. She felt bad for whatever woman had to share a room with whoever was in there. If there was one thing she couldn’t stand, it was loud snoring that kept her up all night. Her father snored. The few times they’d gone on vacations as a family—well, what constituted “as a family” for her father, which usually meant he joined Hadley, her sister and the nanny after a few days—she’d hated staying in adjoining rooms because she knew every night she’d be in agony, waiting for daylight.
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