Queen of Jastain (26 page)

“What is your son’s name, and how can I find him?”

“Chatham would be twenty-two years old. Your father will know where to find him.”

“My father is—”

A noise shuffled in the corridor. They stood in silence, not daring to move.

The queen whispered, “Abigail, it’s time for you to go. There's a horse waiting outside with provisions. If you follow the river to the Northern Passage, you can cross on horseback. Do not take the roads or bridges. They will be watched.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.” Abby paused, hesitant. Resolve filling her, she continued, “Please come with me.”

Abby could no more describe the look of sorrow on Sentieve’s face any more than she would ever be able to forget it. The queen was a woman bound to a hell of her own making.

“You may tell Avant of my betrayal. He is released from his vow. When you find my son, tell him I love him.” Sentieve opened the door to the outside world and fresh air swept across Abby’s face with the sweet smell of freedom.

The haze veiled the stars in the night sky, with only the brightest shining through. It reminded her of the sky back in Dallas. A dark horse stamped his hoof on the ground, impatiently tethered to a tree nearby.

“Skirt the perimeter wall of the castle for a half mile to the west. There you will come to a guard gate that will be unlocked and unattended. Ride north for five miles to the River Itehris, and follow the river to the Northern Crossing.”

Abby remembered the place where she and Avant had crossed on foot months ago.

Sentieve inclined her head in a queenly gesture of dismissal and closed the door of the castle.

Abby mounted the horse and took off for the perimeter wall. She tentatively rode through the eastern gate. As the queen had said, it was open and unguarded. Riding hard through the night and well after dawn, she wanted to make sure she was far away when they found her missing.

Mid-morning, Abby stopped and searched through the packs on the horse’s saddle. Finding bread and dried meat, she ate half the loaf. She drank from the river and let the horse rest for a short while before riding out again.

Riding hard until night fall, she could see the mountains where she and Avant had camped the first night she met him. The sturdy horse attacked the trail with a steady pace. Weariness and fatigue sank deep in her bones, but she pressed on with an endurance she didn’t know she had. Cell phones and satellites could never have taught her, and in that other life, she could’ve never become who she was, who she was destined to be.

The knowledge of Sentieve’s betrayal should have been welcome, but it wasn’t. It reminded her of the time she ate a spoonful of coco powder thinking it would be like chocolate candy. The dry, bitterness was all she could taste. The pain it would cause Avant was unfathomable.

After hiding the horse, she made camp in a small grove of trees then slept for a few hours. She left the next morning before dawn and, a little after midday, reached the northern point of the river where she crossed on horseback. She could make it to the small cave by nightfall and camp there before heading to Domentus Ventium.

The trip with Avant and those first days played in her mind. That seemed so long ago. This was her world now. She smiled, remembering how Avant had scooped her out of the water and carried her across the river. He’d been so arrogant. Abby’s heart ached to see his tall frame and gaze into his blue eyes. If it hadn’t been for him, she would have died, then and now. But for him, she would still be a helpless party girl looking for escape. He'd made certain she was prepared to survive, and she loved him for it.

Sentieve said Abby looked like Raieda. Her father had told her that too. Why hadn’t Avant told her that he knew her mother? Was it possible she was still alive?

Abby neared the campsite around dusk. Two horses stood near the stream, and the glow of a campfire lit the cave. Her heart thumped in her chest. Could the king's men already be looking for her? She turned the horse around, preparing to leave quietly. Instead, she found herself at the point of a silver blade, and two sapphire eyes staring up at her.

Avant's eyes widened, and he dropped his sword. He lifted Abigail from the horse and held her in his arms. “Is it really you or am I dreaming again?” He pulled away and stared into her gaunt face. Barely a wisp, she appeared as frail a newborn foal.

“It’s really me.” She tucked a lock of hair behind his ear, and her delicate touch sent tingles through his body.

He pulled her close again and kissed her forehead. Feeling as if a great weight fell from his shoulders, he sighed into her hair. “Are you all right? You're so thin. Did they hurt you, my angel?”

“You mean other than holding me hostage, drugging me and starving me half to death? No, it was a blast.” She smiled, but it never reached her eyes. She had clearly faced trauma. The thought pierced him.

Avant’s heart leapt within him to hold her in his arms. He'd nearly lost his mind with worry. That treacherous animal had imprisoned her. Seething rage bubbled in his veins. “I did not know if I'd ever see you again…. If anything had happened to you, Abigail….” His voice broke and he fought to regain composure.

Under her mild protests, he carried her to the cave, not even allowing her to take a step. She laid her head against his chest. He bounded up the rocks, holding her emaciated frame with ease. Folding down at the fire, he cradled her in his lap, unwilling to let go. Neither said a word. She melted against him and cried silently.

The feel of her in his arms reminded him of their previous time in the cave, and for the first time in weeks, his unsettled mind gained a foothold on some kind of peace.

Petra entered. When he saw Abigail, his face lit in affection. “Abby. Where did you come from?”

She wrestled out of his grip and jumped into Petra's arms. Bereft by her absence, he glared up at them.

Petra held her close, nuzzling his nose in her hair. Avant softly growled. Looking past her, Petra quickly pulled away and wrinkled his nose. “Abby, you need a bath.”

She laughed. “No kidding.”

Sitting down between them, she told the story of how Aesdil had captured her.

Avant listened to her recount, but there was one thing he didn’t understand. “Abigail, why were you alone at the falls?”

She darted a glance to Petra, who quickly looked away. Avant shifted his gaze back and forth between them. He tapped his lip with his index finger but said nothing. Those two clearly were hiding something.

A guilty look crossed her face, and his heart plummeted. “I had ridden out to see Petra that morning and thought I would stop by the falls afterward.”

“Abby, you said they drugged you,” Petra said.

“Yes, they put it in the food. I think they were keeping me drugged to prevent me from using my Implanting.”

“That seems likely,” Avant said. “How did you escape?”

Her face went ashen at his question, and she hesitated before speaking. “The queen helped me.”

Avant stared unbelieving.
What?

“She released me from the dungeons and gave me the horse. I don’t know how, but they know I'm the Chosen One and that you, Avant, are alive.”

His airway constricted, and he could not breathe. Sentieve knew he was alive?

Abigail's face lined with concern. “I tried to get her to come with me, but she wouldn't.”

Why had Sentieve not escaped with Abigail? His mind flailed, and he could not discern his emotions. The walls of the small cave closed in around him. He needed to think. Rising, he left the cave.

* * * *

Abby's heart left with Avant. She walked to the cave entrance and watched him until he disappeared upstream. All of her emotions flooded back when he’d held her in his arms and only Petra's appearance could have torn her from him.

After a long silence, Petra stood behind and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. She leaned back into him and sighed.

“I’ll get you some water so you can wash, and I brought you a change of clothes for you. We'll finish our conversation later.”

As usual, Petra’s calm practicality eased her heart and served as a balm to her raw emotions. She grabbed his arm before he walked away and leaned her head against his chest. His arms went around her.

“I couldn’t have stood it if something had happened to you. I was so worried.” They stood in a tight hug for a moment. He finally released her and went to get water from the stream. Heating it over the fire, Petra unpacked his supplies and gave her a cloth and some soap. He had to be the most prepared guy in the world, in any world. She loved him for it.

She touched his face. “I’m sorry you were worried. All I could think about was getting back to you and Avant. There’s a lot more to the story, but I don’t think I should tell Avant…at least not yet.”

“We’ll talk in a little while. You get washed up, and we’re going to get some food in you.” He squeezed her hand. His actions communicated his love and relief at finding her.

For the first time in weeks, she felt like smiling. He left the cave to give her privacy.

She removed her ragged and filthy clothes then washed with the warm water. Her hair she soaped and rinsed last. She dried with an extra blanket, and changed into the clean clothes. After finishing, she called to Petra, who returned and prepared something to eat.

They sat in front of the fire and watched the flames flicker into the cool evening.

“Where's Avant?”

Petra shrugged as he took a bite of bread. “I’m not sure. He took Spiritus upstream and will probably be gone a while. He was crazed when we got word that the king had captured you. I had to hold him back from storming the castle. We spent a week gathering our troops and formulating a plan to try and get you out. We were headed to your car, thinking that might give us some advantage if we could make it run.”

She searched his face. “You didn’t tell him about…what happened, did you?”

“Are you crazy? He would’ve killed me, Abby. As you are aware, we were not exactly on the best of terms. After you were taken, he broke. I would have sworn he was in love with you. Maybe he is.” His face creased in pain to speak the words. “But clearly, he still feels something for the queen.”

Sentieve
. “Oh, Petra. That woman doesn’t deserve ten minutes of his suffering, much less twenty years. She admitted to me she was unfaithful to Avant while they were married. She doesn’t even know who the father of her son is.”

Petra stared at her wide-eyed. “You mean the one that died?”

“The one who’s death she faked, and who is still alive.” Abby couldn’t conceal the contempt in her voice.

“
What
…Avant has a son?”

Abby, still fearing hunger, tore into a small roll and spoke with her mouth full. “Could have. And she sent the emeralds from the Crown with him and my mother.”

“Your mother is involved in this? The emeralds? By the Light.”

She took a big gulp of spiced wine and swallowed. “Sentieve thinks she might still be alive. Should we tell Avant?”

Petra sighed and rubbed his brow. “We’ll have to tell him, Abby. This isn’t something we can rightfully keep from him, but we need to wait. Something happened to him when you were captured. I've never seen him so…vulnerable. It scared me. He has always been a rock, even when something devastating hurt him. He seemed diminished, like all his strength left when we didn’t know what had happened to you.”

Petra loved Avant and she trusted his judgment. Tight bands of worry weaved through her chest. Avant
had
seemed different. They finished their meal.

“I have to find a way back to Dallas. That’s the next step to finding the answers we need.” She sighed and chewed her fingernail. “I’ve never used my Gift like that. At least, I’ve never controlled it.”

Petra wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him. “I wish I could help you. That’s out of my realm of expertise, but I know Avant can help you. He said he’d thought of a way.”

She rested in his arms and they talked a little while longer, filling in the gaps of their stories. Avant didn’t return. Abby’s eyes fluttered in weariness, and as much as she wanted to wait for him, she couldn’t stay awake any longer. Petra made a pallet, covered her up, and she fell asleep.

* * * *

Avant traveled upstream and sat under a tree near the water. Staring into the flowing brook, he tried to sort through his emotions. Sentieve knew he was alive, as did Aesdil. He exhaled and raised his gaze to the stars, leaning his head against the tree. All these years he had feared the unknown of this moment, wondering if Sentieve would still love him and want him back. He had locked that fear away, but it had haunted him. Until recently. Never once had he considered whether he would still love her. Yet that was the position in which he found himself.

Picking up a rock, he chunked it into the bubbling current. He had not acted gallantly in his marriage with Sentieve. He’d made many mistakes for which his heart now grieved. Guilt over how he’d denied her his love that last morning stung his mind. He closed his eyes. If he were honest, it had been his guilt these many years, and not his love, that motivated him toward reconciliation. But reconciliation would not right the wrongs of the past, and would be a worse offense toward her.

When his thoughts drifted to the future and he envisioned his reign in the new kingdom, the woman he saw at his side, his queen, was not Sentieve. He had tried to suppress the vision and
that
dream. The one damnable dream that reoccurred almost nightly, and he could no longer fight its meaning. Sentieve was his past. She was lost to him the moment Aesdil plotted against him.

Abigail was his future, but an uncertain future, at best. Their quest, now more urgent than ever, rested in returning to Abigail’s world as quickly as possible. He had a plan.

He rose and mounted Spiritus, patting him fondly on the neck. He headed toward his future.

He returned to the cave a short while before dawn. He knelt next to the waning fire, gazing at the flaxen locks splayed across Abigail’s pallet. Her form, though worn and frail, brought peace to his troubled mind. My Light, he'd missed her, feared for her. He moved closer and stroked her hair. The dawn would break within the hour, and they would get an early start. She stirred and stretched. Her eyes fluttered open, and sparkled in the dwindling firelight. Petra slept soundlessly nearby.