No one denies my theory.
‘But, my lady,’ Elijah says, ‘there is nowhere you can hide in Skade that he won’t find you, and if –’
‘No! You don’t know what you’re asking, what that monster does to me …’ Images I can’t stop flood my vision, images of Luca’s face so close I smell his skin while mine burns off like petals held too close to a fire, his eyes raking over my unclothed body, as our deal allows, and his lack of control as he tries but fails to stop his form from shifting in and out of the beast. And then of course the kiss that always follows, his mouth slamming into mine to feed his ravenous hunger to possess me.
Tears sting my eyes, trickle through my fingers. I lower my hands to my lap, and through a moist screen the faces of the three angels swim back into focus. Not one of them is willing to meet my eyes. I inhale sharply, dispersing the tears and, I hope, their pity. ‘I can’t return to Luca’s rooms and wait for him like a lost puppy, OK? So tell me, do you have a better plan, or do I run?’
Rachana strokes my hair with feather-light touches. ‘My lady, if you do not return, I will not blame you.’
But something’s wrong. The air is too thick as it hangs between us. ‘Tell me,’ I whisper, my voice sounding hoarse to my own ears, ‘what am I missing?’
Rachana sighs. ‘If you do not return, King Luca will behead Elijah and Lhiam in the palace square as an example to all who betray him. And when he learns Mela lives because you healed her, he will kill her with his own hands and enslave her soul for eternity to the darkest of Skade’s penal colonies, perhaps even the demons’ pit of perpetual fire.’
My eyes close. My breaths become shallow. She’s right. I have to return even though it kills me to do so. Oh, Nathaneal, where are you? I miss you so much.
‘I fear it is too late already,’ Lhiam says sadly. ‘By now for sure the king will be on his way to his rooms.’
‘No, there must be a shortcut. Are there any secret passageways left?’
Elijah’s light eyes brighten with a glint of hope, ‘My lady, can you fly?’
‘No, my wings haven’t emerged yet.’ I jump to my feet in a panic. It’s not fair that these two caring soldiers will lose their lives because of me.
They share a quick glance before Elijah stands before me with his hands held out. ‘I know that to touch you will bring me a judgement of death, but we have come this far.’
‘That we have, Elijah. If you can get me back by doing this, then you have my permission.’
He takes the cloak from my shoulders and hands it to Lhiam, then scoops me up. Lhiam wraps the cloak around Elijah’s shoulders, concealing me beneath it. Behind us I hear Mela stir. I poke my eyes over the cloak edge to cast Rachana a pleading look. ‘Keep her safe.’
‘I will do my best,’ she says.
‘Will I see her again?’
She hesitates, but only for a blink. ‘You will, my lady.’
29
Ebony
We get back to Luca’s apartment with the soft echo of his footsteps ascending the stairs. The three of us look down the corridor at the same time and see Luca, trailed by two Throne guards, on the last of the stairs. I exchange a brief look of relief with Elijah and Lhiam even though I’m not entirely sure we made it without Luca noticing something.
He appears abruptly beside me, his look asking what I’m doing standing in the corridor.
Elijah freezes, a tick in his jaw twitching like crazy. I rub my own chin in sympathy. Lhiam is stoic-faced and silent, which is what he normally looks like, but his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down is a dead giveaway.
Luca leans down to say something, his breath burning the tender skin behind my ear. But before he gets a word out, I pull away, turning on him with an angry, frustrated look on my face. ‘Your guards are dogs,’ I complain with, I hope, enough attitude to draw his attention entirely to me. ‘I want to see Mela.’ I notice Elijah still has my cloak and words dry up in my throat. I swallow and swallow to work up moisture quickly. ‘She should be in my apartment by now, but these … these bullies, refuse to let me leave.’
Luca’s eyes shift from one guard to the other. Somehow they manage to keep their steely expressions intact. The pair of guards accompanying Luca arrives and stands back to attention as if waiting for something.
‘Captain, why do you have my lady’s cloak?’
‘I threw it at him when he refused my request for the third time,’ I explain and, careful not to touch him, I snatch the cloak from Elijah’s arm.
Finally Luca nods. ‘Good work, soldiers. Your replacements are behind you. Return to your barracks. You’ve earned a break.’
They both nod and thank him curtly. The new arrivals step forward and the two pairs exchange places. Watching Elijah and Lhiam leave brings a rush of relief that I’m careful to keep concealed.
Gripping my elbow, Luca walks me into his apartment, closing the doors behind us.
‘I’d like to return to my own room now.’ I confront him right away, keeping up the pretence that I don’t know what’s happened to Mela.
‘Not just yet, Princess.’
‘But you said after three days –’
‘Things have changed.’
Nathaneal.
The thought brings his image. I dispel it as quickly as I can, pulling up barriers so Luca can’t get into my head.
‘How?’
But he still notices the light in my eyes and inhales a sharp breath through his nostrils, straightens his shoulders and moves to the window, yanking the curtains closed. When he turns around he has his temper under control. ‘Have you eaten yet?’
‘No,’ I answer absently, my mind still whirling with thoughts of Mela, the lies Luca doesn’t stop telling me, and the possibility that Nathaneal is somewhere close enough to bring the troubled look in this king’s eyes.
We eat dinner in silence, with Luca watching my every move. I force the food down, one small mouthful after another.
A knock at the door distracts him, at least for now. A guard pops his head in. ‘The designers have arrived, my lord.’
Luca allows them entry and three girls walk in – souls in their late twenties – a brunette and two redheads. The redheads resemble each other and are probably sisters. One has shoulder-length hair; the other has short hair with blonde highlights.
The guard introduces them, reeling off their names, but by now I’m so exhausted they sound too similar, like Cherry, Berry or Kerry. They bring loads of stuff with them, laying rolls of fabric on a makeshift table – muslin, taffeta, tulle, black netting and a roll of sophisticated black lace, while the other guard wheels in a sewing machine.
Luca stokes the fire, then sinks into a leather armchair with his legs on an ottoman, feet crossed at the ankles. ‘The girls are here to prepare you,’ he tells me.
‘For what? A fashion show?’
His voice tightens. ‘If you don’t fight this, Ebony, you might actually enjoy the process.’
‘What are you talking about? What am I being prepared for?’
The girl whose name I think is Kerry, the short-haired redhead with highlights, rolls out metres of the muslin across the table.
‘Our wedding.’ Luca watches me carefully as he announces this. ‘I thought that would be obvious for someone as astute as you are, Princess.’
My gut twists and drops. Run! But with the secret tunnels destroyed, gates sealed and Mela unreachable, where can I run that he won’t find me? Stop me? Punish me?
Think. Why prepare for our wedding now? Does this explain his troubled look?
Luca sinks deeper into the armchair and watches while the girls get started, first stripping me down to my underpants, then taking more measurements than I’m sure they need. They work judiciously, conscious of Luca watching while they cut and pin the muslin, try the garment on me, adjusting the pins where necessary to create the fit and look they’re after.
The fabric is itchy and I can’t help but move a bit. Kerry accidentally pins me
and I wince. Luca pulls her aside and slaps her; the imprint of his palm shines red on her left cheek. I stare at it with my mouth open and spend the next part of the fitting standing stock still while she sticks me with pins repeatedly from having trembling hands. Each time she freezes and looks up at me with me wide eyes. When I don’t react after the fourth, her shaking settles and she doesn’t prick me again.
After the girls make the muslin dress perfect on me, they rip out the seams and use it as the pattern to cut out the taffeta and lace. They take turns sewing, but it’s still a lengthy process, while I’m standing for all this time in the middle of the room with just undies on and my arms folded across my bare chest.
The girls are not immune to my increasing discomfort. They flick little worried glances at me constantly, and while they too are growing tired, they speed up their work-rate, urging each other on, until at last they’re putting a long flowing gown over my head.
It’s a perfect fit, soft and silky, with a low, shapely bodice of black lace with tiny off-the-shoulder sleeves over taupe taffeta that flows out from my hips to the floor with a layer of sheer black tulle over the skirt. It’s a beautiful dress. The girls smile at me, happy with the finished product.
But Luca’s not. He orders the bodice lowered and the waist taken in. It takes three more changes while he stands back and watches, his lips sporadically twitching in amusement at my fruitless attempts to cover myself each time the girls remove the garment for alteration.
It’s humiliating and degrading and I hate him more each time his eyes devour my bare skin. And even though Luca keeps the fire blazing, it’s now about three in the morning and I start to shiver.
The shivering grows quickly worse. I take a deep breath, close my eyes and imagine Nathaneal walking up behind me, folding his arms around me, his solid chest warming my back, his skin on mine, his breath tickling my neck as he leans forward, wrapping me inside his loving embrace. And my soul purrs.
Caught up in my fantasy, I jump when Luca suddenly appears in front of me. He has a blue dressing gown in his hands and begins to put it around my shoulders, but I’m seething at how long he waited and I take the robe from his hands, spin my back to him and put it on myself.
One more fitting and the dress is finally finished. And just as I think it’s over and I can get an hour’s sleep or maybe two before the sun starts to rise, the girls take me to the bathroom, where Kerry runs a bath and Terry or Cherry washes my hair.
Luca is pouring himself a drink when the girls bring me back to the lounge room. The sewing machine and all the other dress-making paraphernalia are gone. He sees me, raises his glass and watches as the girls work on my hair, drying and curling and sticking it with glittering stones they tell me are real rubies, sapphires and emeralds.
A knock on the door turns out to be General Ithran coming for Luca. ‘I have to step out for a while,’ Luca says.
Finally!
But he orders the girls not to stop working on me until I’m ‘complete’, whatever that means.
He hands me a glass box with a sparkling tiara and matching necklace inside, all glittering pink diamonds. It’s spectacular, and easily worth enough to feed a Developing Nation on Earth for a thousand years. I want to throw the box at him, shove the jewellery down his throat and run for my life.
When is this nightmare going to end?
Tears threaten and I lift my shoulders and breathe in deeply, blinking them back. I can’t fall apart now, not when I have to find my way out of this palace before this farce of a wedding takes place. And once I’m in the streets, I’ll get out of the city and make my way to another province, somehow disguising my appearance and hiding where Luca won’t be able to find me. If I can’t return home to Earth, or be with Nathaneal on Avena, then living alone, in a mud cabin or a cave deep inside a mountain, would be preferable to being Luca’s wife.
The door is closing behind him when I call out, ‘When?’
He glances over his shoulder, his green eyes seizing mine and instantly bringing visions of the last few nights in his bedroom, in his bed, the heat from his body burning my skin, his insistent sensual mouth, his eyes devouring me, changing to yellow, his body morphing to and from the beast.
Bringing up my power, I shove the images out of my head, breaking his hold with a shudder. And I know then that no matter how much I try, those memories will haunt me for the rest of my days. ‘When is this farce of a wedding set to take place?’
His eyebrows lift and his smile is supreme and smug. ‘Sunrise.’
30
Nathaneal
A sound at the breached gate has me spinning around. It’s Jerome and Sami, breathing hard as they collapse on the bridge, shedding their invisibility.
Jez rushes to them, and I see why as their forms become clearer.
There is blood all over them.
But it turns out the blood on Jerome and Sami isn’t theirs.
It’s still dark, but not far from dawn, and the city is alive, Jerome links. There are coloured lanterns, dancers in bawdy costumes, jugglers, fire-eaters, glass-walkers, laser lights criss-crossing the sky –
Soldiers are all over the palace, Sami adds.
Michael asks, What’s all that blood on your clothes?
They share a troubled glance before Sami explains. We tried to get eyes inside the palace and tripped a silent alarm. Twelve soldiers surrounded us. They knew something was out there, but since we were invisible …
We drove them crazy, Jerome crows with a cheeky grin.
I stare at their blood-soaked clothing. How did you escape?
He locks his gaze to mine. Brother, if we had let one enemy soldier escape, Luca would attack you before we returned.
But now he’s wondering what slaughtered his twelve soldiers, Michael says.
In the silence that follows, Sami continues her report, From what we overheard, Prince Luca is arrogantly confident you can’t break through his sealed gates.
This confirmation of our suspicion is excellent news, and my lips twitch with the makings of a smile. I rein it in. Not yet. Not until Ebony is in my arms. And then let the stars stop me, because nothing else in this universe will.
No one is watching the gates, Jerome elaborates, but whatever is going on at the palace tonight has everyone’s attention.
Prince Luca’s arrogance will be his undoing, Isaac remarks. He’s not guarding the gates, but it sounds as if he’s guarding everywhere else. Something must have happened to warrant such high security.
Just the size of that festival warrants heightened security, Sami says. Dignitaries, royalty, and a multitude of entertainers are in that crowd.
But Isaac is right, because something did happen. Solomon’s informant contacted him. I motion to Solomon to brief them.
The pair nods as they listen to Sol explain about the rebel army and how a few members took Ebony out for a midnight ride.
How deep is your informant involved in this rebel army, Sol? Jerome asks.
She’s their leader.
Jerome blows a silent whistle of appreciation.
But two nights ago Prince Luca fed her to a beast.
The pair glance at each other with wide eyes. Sorry, Sol, Jerome says. So is she –
Ebony healed her, and now my informant is waiting to take us to Ebony.
The sense of urgency I’ve carried with me since Ebony’s abduction threatens to explode if I don’t get into Skade now. I can’t be this close and not with her.
It’s time.
I order Gabriel to leave two soldiers behind to watch Jordan. Nothing must happen to him in our absence.
You have my word, brother, he confirms, and I give the command to move out.
31
Nathaneal
The rancid smell of decay hangs heavy in Skade’s night air, its two moons hiding beneath thick cloud cover, while in contrast the eastern horizon breathes out fire like a living dragon, with volcanic lightning exploding high into the stratosphere.
>
I glance over my shoulder to Michael. He catches my eye and tweaks his nostrils. Flying in the formation of a flock of birds common to this realm, we’re careful not to even mind-link unless imperative, now that we’re inside enemy territory.
After a few minutes without sensing a threat, I accelerate our descent, banking south to avoid the hot geyser fields. The white palace soon appears and, though warned, seeing the festivities with my own eyes still shocks me. There’s everything there, from street decorations to laser lights chasing each other across the palace skies. There are colourful dancers, acrobats and as well the disturbing sight of wondrous wild animals chained at the neck, paraded by their masters wielding whips.
Most worrying is the high security. Armed soldiers in full battle paraphernalia patrol the palace perimeter and are all over the wall, the spacious palace grounds and surrounding streets. In many places they stand shoulder to shoulder.
Still descending, I sweep wide to the east, carefully avoiding soldiers patrolling the air space between the palace walls and Skade’s vital river, and land silently on the floor of a concrete drain. I motion Solomon forward to take us to his informant.
As the ceiling is too low for flying we wade with hunched shoulders through putrid-smelling liquid. Eventually the liquid drains away and we follow Solomon into a second tunnel, where a sliding door at the end opens on to a circular stairwell. We descend numerous flights, moving fast and silently into another tunnel, even more moist and foul-smelling than the first. Water drips from the ceiling. A colony of double-headed rats, startled by our presence, runs over our feet to scamper up the walls in their rush to avoid us.
I order the team to increase their glow.
Solomon’s informant waits for us in the cold darkness with a cloak around her shoulders. The woman has fair skin, dark hair and blue eyes that look curiously familiar. As we approach, and my eyes remain fixed on her, the strings of my memory unfurl and begin to connect, forcing a sense of awareness that something isn’t right.
He greets her with the affection and relief of finding a good friend unharmed. The two have communicated often over the years, and she just almost died in a horrific manner, so this I appreciate.