SummerDanse (8 page)

The next morning dawned bright and clear. By mid-morning, the temperature had soared. I asked Anazian for water, but he didn’t reply. Not knowing whether he’d not heard or was just ignoring me, I didn’t ask again.

All day, I cooked under the hot sun. Sweat poured off my body, and places where skin touched skin began to chafe. My lips cracked and bled, but I couldn’t stop licking them. Mama’s voice no longer whispered to me.

Anazian didn’t make me play Wolf-Girl anymore. I suspect he knew I couldn’t, not even if he beat me. I was vaguely conscious of him getting water down my throat, and I grew curious why he didn’t just let me die, since he seemed so intent upon it. That was in one of the few lucid moments I had in those last days.

Then finally a day came when the mage covered the cage with sheets of cloth. For a short time I came to myself and wondered with bitterness why he’d waited so long to allow me to have shade. But soon it became stifling and hard to breathe. Perhaps the time had come to bury me. That would be good.

My Son~

I have just received your latest missive, and I fear I must caution you against complacence. Much is at stake, and all could be lost if you fail now.

You must resist any sympathy toward the girl. For our plan to succeed, you must be harsh. Harden your heart; be cruel; beat her if you must. It is imperative that she fear you.

I have promised her to you, should she survive her coming ordeal. She will be yours, to wed, or to bed, or to enslave in your kitchen, whatever you choose. I care not, only bring her in accordance with our plan.

My son, I look forward with delight to our impending reunion. All these long years I have missed you. To finally see you again—I count the days.

~Your Father

I woke up feeling groggy but comfortable. I opened my eyes, and it was like being inside a cloud. Everything was white and gleamed with the soft golden glow of sunlight. The air was cool, and a fresh breeze blew through the room.

“Ah, awake at last.” The voice was deep and musical. Not Anazian’s.

Feeling too weak to sit up, I turned my head toward the voice. An old man sat in a chair facing me. His silvery grey hair and incongruously black beard were trimmed short and neat, giving his face a very precise appearance. His green eyes twinkled at me. He wore a black shirt and trousers of fine linen, and he had several jeweled rings on his fingers, plus a gold torc around his neck. He must be very rich indeed.

“Where am I?” My own voice was weak, scarcely more than a whisper.

“Shh. You’re safe now.” He picked up a cup from a small stand and leaned forward. “Drink this, then rest more.” He held the cup to my lips and helped me to drink the cool, delicious water.

With a sigh, I closed my eyes and fell back to a dreamless sleep.

When I next woke up, the light had a pink cast to it, though whether that was because it was sunrise or sunset, I couldn’t tell.

The chair next to my bed was empty and pushed back against the wall, but I heard the rustling sounds of someone else in the room. I felt stronger now and sat up, expecting to find the elegant old man, and was surprised to find a woman instead. She was looking out a wide window through which the pink light flowed. I cleared my throat to get her attention, but she didn’t respond.

The room was as beautiful a one as I’d ever seen. The four-poster bed was made of rich, dark wood, and the bedclothes were a crisp, brilliant white. The walls, also white, were decorated sparsely with a few pastel paintings. Even the stones of the fireplace were pale in color. A sturdy table with two pink-upholstered chairs stood beneath the window.

I no longer wore the disgusting, filthy shift that Anazian had made we wear without letting me wash it even once. Now I wore a luxurious sleeveless nightgown whose soft fabric caressed my skin. The pale blue of it contrasted sharply with the deep red of my arms, burned by the long days in the sun. The scrapes and bruises I’d acquired proved that it hadn’t been some lingering nightmare. But now I was clean, and my skin and hair smelled faintly of lemons. My face felt puffy, and my nose hurt to the touch and was peeling, while my lips were dry and cracked.

The woman at the window turned and looked at me just as I reached for the pitcher to pour myself more water. She broke into a smile and rushed over to take care of the task herself.

“Thanks,” I said, giving her a smile that split my upper lip.

Her deeply wrinkled face fell, and without a word she reached into a pocket of her apron and pulled out a small jar. This she opened and after dipping in a fingertip, spread a salve of some kind onto my lips. They stung for a moment. Then I drank the water, and I could practically feel my insides absorbing it.

The old woman went to the door and stepped out, closing it behind her. I poured myself more water and considered going over to the window to look out, but I decided that getting up was too much effort. For now, I wanted only to relax in this unexpected haven.

The woman came back, and I tried to start a conversation with her. “I’m Donavah,” I said. She smiled and nodded, then went to the wardrobe. “What is this place, can you say?” No answer. Well, the man hadn’t answered that question, either. I tried another. “How long have I been here?” Still nothing.

She came over with a tray that had legs and set it over my lap. “So is it suppertime or breakfast?” She must know the answer to that. But all she did was nod and smile. Then she sat in the chair. At least it wasn’t facing me anymore, so I didn’t have to sit there feeling awkward with her smiling at me and saying nothing.

After a few more minutes of uncomfortable silence, there was a tap on the door, followed by the man who’d been here before. He carried a tray of food and used a foot to close the door behind him. The woman leapt to her feet and relieved him of the tray, and, setting it on the table, began to move its contents to the tray on my lap.

The man smiled, and I again caught the twinkle in his eyes. “I see you’ve made a friend of Nilla.”

“Nilla? That’s her name? She didn’t say.”

“Oh, dear. Of course you couldn’t have known.” He repositioned the chair so that he could face me and sat down in it. Now he wore a sleeveless purple embroidered tunic over his black shirt and trousers, looking even more elegant than he had before. “Nilla is deaf and mute, so she couldn’t answer your questions.”

“Oh. I see.” My face reddened.

“Well, eat your meal, and then we shall have a bit of a talk.”

There was a thin broth with bits of carrots and potatoes floating in it, plus some thin, crisp wafers of bread that weren’t quite like anything I’d ever seen before. There were also two slices of proper bread along with butter and marmalade, and a bowl of early fruit, sliced and sprinkled with a dusting of sugar. Everything was delicious, but I didn’t feel much like eating, and the man had to coax most of it down me. He made a child’s game of it that had us both laughing by the time I swallowed the last bite.

“There,” he said. “It will do you good.” He sat back, resting his elbows on the arms of the chair and pressing his fingertips together. “My name is Zhantar. Some put ‘Lord’ in front of it, but you need not worry about that.” I swallowed. Not that his being a lord surprised me, but having my suspicion confirmed was a little daunting. “And who might you be?”

I swallowed again. “My name is ...” I hadn’t thought to prepare a lie. There had been a warrant put out for me, back when Breyard had been under arrest. After my part in helping him escape, it wasn’t likely that the warrant had been rescinded. Surely this lord must be in the favor of the king. What if he recognized me? After an awkward pause, I said, “My name is Dona.” That would have to do. I could only hope my pause hadn’t been too noticeable.

“Well, Dona. You arrived at my house in a rather distressful condition. What can you tell me about that?”

“I’d been captured, well, kidnapped I suppose is a better word. And kept—” My voice broke off as the indignity of it all swept over me. I couldn’t stop myself from crying, but I managed to say, “And kept in a cage, like an animal,” before I broke down completely. It was mortifying just to think of everything that had happened. I couldn’t tell Zhantar all of it; it would be too humiliating.

Zhantar was patient and didn’t say anything. Nilla, her face dark with concern, took a handkerchief from another pocket and started to dab at my eyes. Zhantar touched her arm and made a flicking motion with his hand, and she took my lap tray and left the room. The pink light was gone, and now a fading grey light came through the windows.

“And who are you, Dona, that someone would kidnap you? Are you the daughter of a great nobleman?”

“No. I’m no one.” I dare not tell him about the red dragons, about the prophecy that I had helped fulfill in bringing them back from Stychs to Hedra. I couldn’t tell him about my maejic power. Nor could I tell him about who my parents were or about their abduction. “I think he said something about selling me as a slave.” Maybe that would be believable. Slavery had been outlawed in Alloway long ago, but rumor had it that King Erno kept many of them, regardless.

Zhantar nodded. “Yes, perhaps that was his purpose. It is hard to know for sure, since you were found abandoned, wrapped in a sheet like a corpse, in one of the palace gardens.”

I shuddered in horror, glad I had no memory of that. “Then why am I here, sir? I don’t remember the end of the journey much, not after he covered the cage.”

“I suppose it is true that you should’ve been taken to the palace infirmary, since you were found on the palace grounds. But luckily, it was one of my servants who found you, so I had you brought to my house, instead. They can be so ... inquisitive up at the palace, as I suspect you can imagine.”

I shuddered again at the thought of my narrow escape. “Thank you, sir. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay your kindness.”

He smiled. “Do not give that another thought. Let there be no discussion of repayment. Sometimes, one simply does what is right. Now, I think it best that you rest again. I will send Nilla back in to look after you through the night. She has such a restful spirit, do you not think so?”

He left, and Nilla returned. She closed the window and drew the curtains, then pulled the counterpane up over me. Sleep beckoned as I snuggled into the comfortable bed. Nilla put a hand on my head, and all the horrible memories fled.

It wasn’t until much later that I realized I was still wearing the wood collar.

I felt better the next morning. Nilla brought a light breakfast, and I actually felt hungry enough to eat it.

My skin hurt, though, from the sunburn, and it had started peeling in places. I couldn’t resist the urge to help it, and it was a strange pleasure to see just how much I could get off in one piece.

I got out of bed, and though I still felt weak, I went to the window and looked out on what I knew must be Penwick. The house was high up the central hill on and around which the city had grown. It stretched out for miles in all directions. Off to the left, I caught a glimpse of the River Mull.

I’d been to the capital once before, and only for a short time, and though I didn’t know its layout well, I remembered a few key things. The palace was built atop the hill, and its golden roof could be seen from almost anywhere. The huge stone arena that housed the fighting pit was near the palace. The dragons were stabled beneath it. I recalled the agony of Xyla when she’d been captured and kept down there. That had been for only a few days; I couldn’t imagine what it must be like for all those other poor dragons who lived their entire lives down there, unable to see the sun and breathe the fresh air except for the few short minutes of a fight. If there was any way I could, I would help those dragons.