Hostage (18 page)

“See to it that my room and a guest room are prepared, that there are provisions waiting, and that the helicopter is ready to go. Above that don’t presume to dictate what I do or don’t do.”

Burning with righteous anger, he hung up the phone, then immediately felt bad. He was going to pay for that. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but someday soon, in a completely respectful and subtle way, Ragnor was going to make him pay.

Astrin was not in the lobby when he got back, so Rowan sat down to wait. He was hyperaware of the veiled looks from the people behind the counter. They made him squirm. He might have been all prince five minutes ago, but he was bored with it now.

When Astrin walked into the hall, it lit up. Suddenly the attention wasn’t on Rowan anymore. Everyone had eyes only for the pool of pale golden sunlight floating through the middle of the lobby, completely unaware of the attention he attracted.

Astrin threw himself down next to Rowan.

“Who was it?”

“Ragnor.”

“What did he want?”

“To tell me off for leaving without notifying him, pushing you too hard, and not liking you enough.”

“What?” Astrin frowned with confusion.

“Never mind. He told me what your mother told you. He’s going to phone ahead to the estate to get rooms made up and provisions gathered. Oh, and we get to fly to Maratebo.”

“Fly? That’s fabulous. It will save so much time.”

“Indeed it will.”

“So, what was he saying about not liking me enough?”

“Trust you to remember that bit.”

Springing to his feet, Astrin hauled Rowan up off the seat and dragged him into the restaurant for lunch before they set off again.

The afternoon was warm and bright after a morning of light rain. Rowan put aside the uncomfortable feelings that had been tormenting him for days, as well as his distinct unease after the conversation with Ragnor, to join in with lively debate, even singing to the music system.

It was late afternoon when they reached a crest, where the ocean opened out before them.

“Wow. That’s beautiful.”

“I never get tired of seeing it,” Rowan said fondly, with a misty smile on his face.

“Do you come here often?”

“Not as often as I used to. I came here all the time when I was a child. And when I… when I wasn’t well, I spent about three months here with Ragnor.”

“Are we far from the estate?”

“About two and a half hours along the road.”

“Do you want to press on, or shall we stop somewhere for the night?”

Rowan was torn. Part of him wanted to press on, but part of him had enjoyed the past few days traveling with Astrin and didn’t want it to end. His reasons for this were complex and only partially understood.

“I don’t know. It looks like it’s going to be a nice night, and it’s warm in the car. I think it would be really nice to camp in this little campsite I know, overlooking the ocean. We can watch the sun set over the sea.”

“That sounds really good. How far is it?”

“Only about half an hour.”

“Let’s go for it.”

A N
IGHT
TO
R
EMEMBER

T
HEY
SPED
along mainly empty roads until Rowan swung the car onto a rough but well-used track. The road wound through trees, and then it broke out onto a broad plateau on top of a cliff. Rowan rolled to a halt within feet of the cliff edge.

They sat back in their seats and looked out over the azure ocean. The sun hung low on the horizon, dyeing the sky dozens of shades of pink and orange and the sea a deep indigo.

“It’s beautiful.”

“I never get tired of it.”

“I’m hungry,” Astrin declared, sounding sleepy and content.

Rowan turned his head, smiling. “There’s a river a few hundred yards away. I’ll get as much water as we need and be back before your fire’s lit.”

“You’re so competitive.”

“I am not.”

“You so are.” Astrin turned to grin at him, and the sun turned his hair to liquid gold. Rowan stared. “What?”

“Your hair’s awesome when it does that.”

Astrin raised his hand to touch his hair. “Does what?”

“When the sun catches it like that and makes it look like it’s melting.” Rowan’s smile faded as his hand half rose to touch the glowing hair. Realizing what he was doing, he snatched it back and turned his face away, feeling hot, embarrassed, and uncomfortable.

“I’d better get the water.”

“Yeah. You should… before it gets dark.”

The tone of Astrin’s voice told Rowan he’d caught the awkwardness, and felt the embarrassment too. Pausing, he turned to Astrin, feeling he should somehow apologize… explain.

“I….” When it came down to it, there was nothing he could say that wouldn’t make it worse, so he shook his head and got out of the car.

Lost in thought, Rowan stumbled over tree roots and shook himself out of his dire mood. He could brood later; right now he had to watch his footing, since the undergrowth was tangled and it wouldn’t be a good idea to fall and break his leg.

The river was farther away than he remembered, and when he got to it, he found he’d forgotten it was at the bottom of quite a steep, if shallow, incline.

“Bugger.”

Remembering that the steep sides became gentler farther along the bank, Rowan turned to walk in that direction. He started thinking about Astrin again, getting angry about how distant he was—how innocent and untouchable.

Deep in thought Rowan didn’t see the cluster of tree roots until his foot caught in it, and he tumbled over the edge toward the river. He twisted as he fell, trying to land on his feet, but all he achieved was an intimate and violent contact with the rocky side of the incline. Landing hard, he was briefly possessed by the pain that shot through his shoulder until his head hit a rock on the edge of the water and stars burst in front of his eyes.

Rowan stirred. He didn’t know if he’d passed out for a while, but the pain was still there—a sick throb in his head and a sharper, stabbing pain in his shoulder and arm. When he tried to move, his head exploded in blinding agony that made him gasp and shudder. His arm and half his shoulder were in the icy water, and he was cold—very cold.

Dimly he realized he had to get out of the water or he would get hypothermia. Gingerly he turned his body, rolling off his arm and trying to keep both his shoulder and head as still as possible. A cry was ripped from him as pain consumed him—from his elbow, through his shoulder and chest, across his back, and through his neck to his head. At least now he was on dry land.

“Oh Gods,” he whispered to no one. Scared of the pain, he lay perfectly still and tested the rest of his body. His legs were fine, responding to his demands to move. His left arm was fine, and his right fingers, then his wrist, then….

Rowan screamed as he tried to lift his elbow. He must have landed on the top of his arm and shoulder. Now every movement was unbearable.

He lifted his left hand to his head and slid it around to the back, inching through his hair until he touched a spot that made him gasp and sent those stars shooting again. When he brought his fingers away, they were red and sticky.

He couldn’t stay here all night. Maybe Astrin would come. Maybe…. With a sigh he closed his eyes, beginning to feel hazy. He had passed beyond cold and, although his body was shivering, he didn’t feel it.
Oh, hell… this isn’t good; this isn’t good at all
.

Rowan knew he had to move. He gritted his teeth and, holding his right arm stiff and tight against his body, rolled onto his left side, struggling to stay conscious and not pass out from the pain.

The world had taken on an unreal feel, and the ground seemed soft and spongy under his hand although he knew full well it wasn’t. He closed his eyes and found it easier, since things didn’t tilt and spin as badly. Although with his eyes closed, he was aware of the dark vortex that was sucking him down. He knew if he fell he’d disappear.

Inch by painful inch, Rowan managed to drag himself a few feet along the narrow bank. It was all he could manage. It scared him to realize how exhausted he was from just doing that much. All around him the shadows were deepening and night was falling. Soon it would be dark, and no one would find him—not here, not now. By the morning, when the sun rose to warm the earth, it would not warm his body.

With a weary sigh, Rowan let his eyes close and began to sink. The pain was gone. There was just a deep, numbing weariness that pulled at his limbs, turning them to lead. He was floating, weightless. Sound distorted and warped around him.

Something moved near his head, something that made a scrabbling, sliding noise, followed by a grunt.
Is there someone here
? He tried to turn his head, but the universe exploded.

This time he definitely passed out, because he came round to the sound of a very familiar voice, speaking anxiously.

“Rowan, what have you done? Are you hurt? Stupid question, of course you’re hurt. You wouldn’t have passed out if you hadn’t been hurt. What have you hurt? Oh damn! Damn! Rowan, you’re bleeding. Your head’s bleeding. Can you hear me? Can you move?”

Something about the voice tugged at Rowan and forced him to open his eyes, if only to make certain it was who he thought it was. He found himself gazing at an angel.

“Astrin.” His voice was breathless, but he smiled dreamily, his eyelids fluttering.

“Rowan, don’t pass out again. Stay awake. Tell me what hurts.”

Rowan opened his mouth but nothing came out. His eyes rolled under fluttering lids as the earth shuddered and tilted under him.

“No, Rowan. Rowan, don’t. I need you to tell me where it hurts. I really need you to. Please, Rowan. I can help you, but you have to tell me where you’re hurt.”

Although he tried his very best, Rowan couldn’t gather his shattered thoughts enough to speak to Astrin. He simply couldn’t, so he stopped trying with a groan.

“Rowan, no, no don’t. Oh, hell.”

Rowan felt Astrin’s hands begin to rove over his body and smiled. When they reached his shoulder the smile froze and a scream tried to find its way out of his throat, but it got stuck and choked him.

“Okay. That’s it. That’s where. Rowan, it’s okay. I’m going to help you. Just hold on. It’s going to be okay.”

Rowan was on the lip of the vortex, staring into the darkness. He felt himself begin to slip, to sink into the earth, to disappear. Then a cold hand touched the side of his face and another lay lightly on his injured shoulder. There was no pain. He was beyond that.

A soft, gentle light began to filter through the darkness and spread through his whole body, concentrating on the side of his head and his shoulder. The vortex disappeared, leaving him suspended in the cocoon of light.

Rowan had no idea how long he lay there, lost in the light, but at some point he became aware of rising. He managed to open his eyes to find Astrin, looking utterly exhausted, dragging him to his feet. There was no pain anymore, just a deep sense of peace and an overwhelming weariness.

“Rowan. I…. You have to….” Astrin was slurring his words, barely able to stand himself. Vaguely, Rowan wondered what had happened to the other boy. He was supposed to be looking after him, wasn’t he? He was supposed to be… doing something?

With a huge effort, Rowan managed to stand upright, and the two of them leaned against each other. Staggering and falling, they fought their way along the bank, up the incline, and back to the car.

Sometime later, while it was still dark, Rowan opened his eyes to a world that didn’t make sense. It was velvety black, and he was warm and comfortable, but something wasn’t right; something was strange. There was a sickening ache in his shoulder, and his head throbbed—and yet… yet he felt good, really good. Something was making him feel good. Another body, soft and warm, pressed against him, cradling his head on its smooth chest. He inhaled deeply and was filled with a familiar scent.

It was hard to move, but he forced himself to raise his head, causing the pain to stab through it. The pain was vicious—but not unbearable, nowhere near unbearable. His face was brushed by soft, soft hair, then he felt a breath, heard a sigh. It was too dark to see, but he didn’t need to see, didn’t need to use his eyes to appreciate the beautiful face that was only inches from his own. He stroked Astrin’s face, his lips, his closed eyelids, then buried his fingers in Astrin’s silky hair, each movement making Rowan shiver.

Rowan closed his eyes. His head didn’t hurt so much that way and the sensations were more intense. He didn’t stop to think, to analyze the feelings flowing through him, because he had neither the focus nor the will. As his fingers continued their exploration, Astrin stirred. Rowan couldn’t see his face, so he had no idea if he was awake or asleep, but he didn’t care.

“Rowan.” The whisper barely registered. “Rowan, you should sleep. I… I can’t….”

Rowan’s fingers found Astrin’s lips again and felt the vibration, the trembling. Astrin’s hand covered his.

“You’re not feeling yourself, Rowan. You will regret this, we both will. Go to sleep… please.”

Although Rowan heard the words, they meant nothing. He wasn’t focused enough for them to make sense.

“Are you even awake?”

Part of Rowan heard Astrin’s weak pleas, begging him to stop, to sleep. They sounded hollow, as if he didn’t really mean them, and then, unbelievably, Astrin’s lips pressed against his. As Rowan eagerly responded to the kiss, golden light poured into him. He went limp and didn’t move again.

When Rowan next opened his eyes, it was full daylight and he felt good. Astrin’s body was still wrapped around him. He was a little surprised, but not unhappy about it. The sun was up, shining brightly, and it was stiflingly hot. Rowan had no desire to move. It was too comfortable, too comforting, but eventually he had no choice because he could barely breathe.

Trying to shrug out of the sleeping bag without waking Astrin was hard, but Astrin seemed to still be sound asleep. He didn’t stir as Rowan carefully separated their bodies, which in places were stuck together, and untangled himself from the cloying folds of cloth.