The Pages of the Mind (13 page)

Goddesses make it so.

We passed the way to the harbor, heading down another branching pathway that led around the curve of the island. A fresh breeze off the water greeted us, cool on my sweat-damp brow, where my hair clung in soaked curls against my temples. The Dasnarians in their armor must be sweltering, but they showed no sign of it, striding along in stoic silence. Jepp, walking on the other side of Zynda from the king, gleamed with sweat also, though she looked good with it, brown skin shining with golden light. She'd calmed on the walk, though I knew from keeping company with Ursula that this was the peace of preparing herself for battle, not of conflict resolved.

We traveled through a tunnel of trees, clearly tended so their branches wove together in an arch overhead. They dripped with panicles of flowers in soft hues of lavender, pink, and buttercup, like a rainbow at a rainy sunrise. As we emerged, a golden palace came into view. Not at all what I expected from a king who went barefoot.

Where the cliff city at Annfwn rises vertically, built into both human-made and natural caves, this place sprawled out over ledges and terraces. Columns held up balconies that contained only gardens, and large expanses of the polished gold stone, big enough to be ballroom floors, led to steps that descended directly into the crystal blue water of the sea. In the gloaming, torches and candles gleamed from the interior, reminding me of Annfwn with a kind of nostalgic homesickness.

Under me, Zynda shifted and huffed out a long breath, making me wonder if she felt it, too. Though Annfwn
was
her home and never mine. Thus it shouldn't feel like homesickness. Odd that I connected that feeling—that lingering ache of loss for my family home at Columba—with Annfwn and now here. Maybe because I'd been happy in Annfwn and had come to associate that feeling with this sort of sight.

Nakoa touched my ankle and gestured at the palace, asking me a question, eyebrows raised. Did he ask what I thought?

“It's very beautiful,” I told him and he tilted his head, listening.

We started forward again, winding down the hillside. When we reached the land-side entrance of the palace, another broad expanse of polished stone, Nakoa spoke to Kral, making it clear that he and his men should wait. Kral halted, giving us a warning look that we hardly deserved. Nakoa walked the three of us forward. At least he allowed Jepp to remain.

His warriors peeled off to the sides, taking up stations around the perimeter, holding their spears butt-end down before them. Then the doors opened, spilling light into the fading evening, and children came dancing out. Unlike Nakoa's warriors in their scaled armor, the children were dressed in pastel scarves, like the panicles of blossoms in the arbor. They sang as they moved, creating a complicated pattern of color, and dropped handfuls of white flower petals, perfuming the air.

A group of young women followed, all luminously beautiful and dressed the same way. The foremost carried a wreath of white flowers with exotically trailing petals. She smiled at me, a reserved, closed-mouth curve of her lips very like Nakoa's. Family resemblance or cultural? Nakoa gestured to the young woman, who stopped before him.

“Inoa,” he said, then put a much-too-proprietary hand on my knee. “Dafne.”

She inclined her head, saying something much longer with my name, then handed the flower wreath to Nakoa. He lifted it, making it clear he wished to place it over my head. The children halted their dance, holding whatever pose they'd been in—a fantastic demonstration of athletic skill—their song falling similarly silent.

“I don't like this,” Jepp grumbled. I was beginning to wish I had a jewel for every time she said it.

“And I don't see a way to refuse this without insult,” I replied. I leaned down, and Nakoa, catching and holding my gaze, placed it over my head. “Thank you,” I told him, hoping that's what this was about.

Inoa clapped her hands together over her heart and bowed, the children bursting back into song and movement at the signal. The other women added their voices to the song, augmenting the sweet sopranos with darker harmonies and languid hand motions that seemed to go with the song. It all seemed directed at me, a kind of joyful welcome.

When they finished, Nakoa spoke and the other young women approached, concern on their faces. He touched my ankle again and Inoa moved to look at the bottom of my foot. They exchanged words and seemed to come to a conclusion that involved Inoa sending the other women on an errand. Nakoa held up his hands to lift me down and Inoa stepped back.

“Do you think you can stand?” Jepp came around Zynda to be ready to guard my back. “The sole of your foot looks pretty torn up from here.”

“I don't know. They ache but are mostly stiff, I think.” But I couldn't ride Zynda into the lovely palace. The floors seemed to be inlaid with intricate wood patterns that her hooves would likely scar. Bracing myself, both for touching Nakoa and in anticipation of pain, I swung a leg over Zynda's neck, making sure to keep my skirts tucked between my thighs as I did, then set my hands on Nakoa's shoulders. He put his hands on my waist and nearly encircled it, they were so big. With great care, he lifted me, then lowered me to the ground, Inoa giving him advice the whole while, by the sound of it.

My toes touched the ground. Thankfully Nakoa still held most of my weight, because I nearly blacked out from the sudden shock of pain. It rolled over me in a nauseating wave—far worse than I'd been prepared for. Vaguely I recalled reading somewhere that foot injuries hurt the worst of any. And here I was, living the reality I'd only read about.

Had I longed to be in the center of events instead of at the periphery? A wish I'd take back at that moment.

Nakoa instantly swung me up in his arms again and carried me into the palace, while Inoa trotted alongside, speaking nonstop in a chastising tone. He looked blackly angry and I longed for the words to point out that if he hadn't taken off my shoes and stockings, this wouldn't have happened. Jepp and Zynda—back in human form—brought up the rear. By the set of Jepp's jaw, she blamed herself for this.

After a maze of hallways, we entered an enormous bedchamber, ringed by nearly a full circle of balconies that looked out over the tranquil sea. I didn't see much, what with the pain and concentrating on not being physically ill on the king of a foreign nation. With more gentleness than I'd have credited him for, Nakoa set me on the bed, laying me against a mound of pillows and keeping one arm braced under my calves, so my tender feet wouldn't touch the covers.

Inoa slid a cylindrical pillow under my legs, replacing Nakoa's arm, and, edging him out of the way, adjusted the pillows under my head. Worried about crushing the gorgeous flower garland, I moved to pull it off over my head, but she stayed my hands and gave me a small shake of her head and an unmistakable warning look. She smiled when I subsided.

Then, speaking sharply, she indicated that King Nakoa should leave. He lingered a moment, paying no attention to her, but studying my face. He said something to me and touched his index finger to his full lower lip. Inoa answered in a tart tone. With one last scowl for her, he left.

11

T
he other young women streamed in, bringing various supplies, Inoa directing them in a much less sharp tone now that King Nakoa had departed. Jepp took up a guard position at the head of the bed while Zynda prowled the room, investigating.

“Okay,” I said to them in Common Tongue, both because we needed to talk and because I needed the distraction from my throbbing feet, “what do we make of all this? Think Inoa is related to King Nakoa KauPo?”

At my words, Inoa looked up, gave me a far warmer smile than before, placed her hand over her heart, and said, “Inoa KauPo.”

“I am honored to meet you,” I told her, returning the smile. “That answers that. Wife or sister?”

Zynda returned from her explorations, climbed onto the bed on my other side, being careful not to jostle me, and settled into a cross-legged sitting position. “Sister or other relative, unless the king has multiple wives. You're currently in his bed.”

“Danu's tits,” Jepp swore, a sentiment I shared.

“How do you know?” I asked Zynda, though I didn't disagree. The few things I could see from my vantage echoed Nakoa's tattoos and jewelry, including the sinuous dragons that formed the posts of the bed, holding the frame from which very light fabric hung, gathered at the four corners.

“Besides that everything here smells of him?” Zynda smiled wryly. “He set his weapons down over there. This is his space.”

“Can you smell that well?” I asked her. I hadn't really noticed a strong scent to the man, but then I'd been distracted.

Zynda slid a look at Jepp, weighing how much to tell, apparently. Then she shrugged. “If we spend enough time in an animal form, we can retain some of those aspects. Human senses aren't all that different from those of animals; we just emphasize the information differently in our minds. Being an animal that uses its sense of smell extensively teaches us to pay more attention to what our human noses scent.”

Oh, yes, Jepp would want to take advantage of that. I started to say something, but Inoa put a hand on my ankle, interrupting us. She spoke to Zynda, miming holding my ankles down. Wonderful.

“Hold on.” Zynda patted my hand. “They have some ointments, so hopefully those will numb the pain. Just get through the application.”

She took over for Inoa, holding my ankles in a relentless grip. Thoughtful of Inoa, to have my friend do this instead of one of her people. After that attack of panic on the mountain, I might not be able to withstand being trapped again so soon by someone unknown. Bad enough to endure it at all. To my surprise, Jepp took my hand. “Squeeze hard if you have to,” she advised. “Seems strange, but it truly helps.”

Inoa asked a short question. Assuming she asked if I was ready, I squeezed Jepp's hand and nodded. The cool slap of ointment on both feet at once made me cry out, tears stinging my eyes, the nausea rising again, the edges of my vision going black with crimson bursts. Adventure was definitely overrated. Inoa's ladies crooned an encouraging sound, adding more of the stuff. Gradually the pain lessened and my feet did go blissfully numb. I realized I held Jepp's hand in a death grip, crushing her knuckles, and apologized.

“You did good, librarian,” she said, keeping my hand when I would have let go. “Worthy of any of the Hawks. Foot wounds sting like Danu's tits. But you're not through this yet.”

She called it. Inoa's ladies brought over a wash basin and pulled up a table covered with gleaming tiles of all colors to set it on. They set to bathing my feet, which I felt even through the numbing ointment. Worst was when they picked up tools with sharp edges and pointed ends, digging into my flesh, making me grateful Zynda held me so securely, as I could not have done it myself.

“They're picking stuff out,” Jepp told me. “Little rocks, dirt, stuff like that. That's good because it means they know about preventing infection, but it's probably better not to look.”

So I lay back and stared up at the ceiling. Like the floors, they were also formed of long strips of wood, shading from dark brown to pale sunlight, coming together at a peak. Recalling the way I'd lectured Jepp on ignorance of Dasnarian customs and accepting Kral's invitation to his bed, I sighed to myself.

“It's probably a really bad sign that I'm in his bed, isn't it?”

Zynda tossed her hair over her shoulder to look at me without breaking her grip on my ankles. “He's clearly taken a personal interest in you.”

“If that kiss was any gauge, yes.” Jepp gave me a crooked smile, a shadow of her usual cheeky grin. “Seriously hot from the outside.”

From the inside, too.
I didn't want to think about that. “It was part of that ritual.”

“Definitely.” Zynda nodded. “But, speaking from an animal perspective, all of his body language toward you shouts possessiveness.”

“To this mossback, too,” Jepp said drily.

“Wonderful.”

“We'll figure something out,” Zynda reassured me.

Jepp squeezed my hand. “We won't leave you alone. Zynda and I will take turns standing guard. He's had all he'll get of you, I promise you that.”

I didn't tell her not to make promises she couldn't keep. Jepp blamed herself enough for this. The ladies finished, adding more ointment and wrapping my feet in a light cloth like the bed curtains. Inoa approached with something steaming in a cup covered with the same bright tiles as the table. She showed it to Jepp, bowing slightly, and took a sip from it. Jepp took it from her and tasted it tentatively.

“It tastes familiar,” she said, “like one of our sedative teas. But I don't know for sure.”

Inoa gestured from the cup to me, giving me a hopeful smile and nodding as she spoke.

“If they wanted to kill me, they could have already instead of spending all this time healing me. I'll drink it.” Though much abated, the pain in my feet would likely keep me awake otherwise.

“I'll take first watch,” Zynda said. “In an appropriately daunting form.” She shifted, becoming the large cat, stretching out beside me and casually flexing her claws.

The ladies gasped, one making a small shrieking sound, but Inoa, with the same equanimity as Nakoa, only widened her eyes slightly, then bowed to Zynda in a gesture of exaggerated respect.

I took the cup and drank from it, while Jepp made herself comfortable in a chair by the open windows. Fatigue and drowsiness overwhelmed me, the cup nearly falling from my fingers before Inoa neatly took it. I might have dreamed it, but I thought she bent over and kissed my forehead. I let myself fall into oblivion, unutterably grateful for Zynda's warm purr and Jepp's steadfast presence by the windows.

I might be trapped—a siege of another sort—but I wasn't alone. Not this time.

I woke to bright sunlight and the startlingly fierce and brooding face of Nakoa, watching me intently from a chair by the bed.

“He's been there since not long after you dropped off,” Jepp said, coming into view. “He came in and sat down. They've brought him food, but he's refused to leave. He hasn't tried to touch you, so don't worry about that.” She looked weary. So much for taking shifts. I doubted she'd slept at all.

I struggled to sit up and Nakoa reached to help me, adjusting the pillow under my knees and plumping the ones under my back. Stiff from lying like the dead all night—that tea was powerful stuff—I groaned a little. Nakoa frowned at me, asking a sharp question.

“I'm fine,” I answered. Then huffed out a laugh, thinking of Ursula saying it was always a lie when she said it, too. I shrugged my shoulders, rolling them in demonstration. Then pantomimed yawning. “Just stiff from sleeping so long.”

He seemed mollified. Then he glanced up at Jepp and back to me. He gestured to my feet and asked a question.

They felt okay. Sore, but not anything like the night before. “Better,” I told him. Then tried their gesture of laying my hands over my heart. “Thank you, King Nakoa KauPo.”

He shook his head, frowning. “Nakoa.”

Okay, then.
“Thank you, Nakoa.”

“Thank you,” he echoed, trying the words, and I smiled to reward the effort. He gestured to Jepp, waving her away.

“I'm not leaving you,” she replied, fingering her daggers for his benefit.

“Could you maybe go to the windows and watch from there? I don't know what he wants, but . . .”

She sighed heavily. “Point taken. We need him happy, if we're to convince him to let you go.” She crossed the room and turned her back. “Just yell if you need me, for the least little thing.”

He watched her go, then gestured to my feet again, placing his index finger on his lower lip, tugging it and casting down his face with a sorrowful expression. An apology then.

“It's all right. You didn't know.” I pointed to his feet, then tapped the palm of my hand with my nails. “Yours are tough. Mine”—I changed the gesture to stroke my palm lightly—“are soft.”

Moving slowly, he took my hand and mimicked the motion, brushing his fingers lightly over my upraised palm. The sensation shivered through me and I caught my breath as my heart thudded and blood surged to the surface of my skin.

“You okay?” Jepp asked without turning around.

“Yes.” Except I wasn't. I needed to think, something that became impossible when this man touched me.

Nakoa flicked Jepp an irritated glance. He gestured to her and said something longer, using both my name and his. Still holding my one hand, he made encompassing circles with the other at the ceiling, sea, and me. It sounded very solemn. He finished by touching the garland still hanging around my neck, sadly crushed and wilted now.

I wanted to say I didn't understand, but I suspected I did, all too well.

“What was all that?”

I glanced at Jepp, who shifted impatiently from foot to foot. Nakoa tapped my cheek lightly, turning my gaze back to him. “
Ayh
,” he said sharply, shaking his head. He gestured to Jepp and said the sound again. “
Ayh
.” Then pointed back and forth between him and me. “Nakoa. Dafne.”

“Please stay quiet unless I call you,” I told her, not taking my eyes off Nakoa. This felt much like negotiating with a predator intent on eating me if I made the wrong move. More wolves surrounding me. Or a dragon, stalking.

I held up my hand, asking for his patience, and eased the other from his grip. Plucking a wilted petal from the garland, I pointed to the sea out the windows and moved the petal as if floating it on the waves. I set my finger on it, saying my name, showing the petal sailing to the palace. “Dafne came here on a ship to help you.” I showed him the petal sailing away again. “Dafne cannot stay.” I added a firm shake of my head. “Dafne must leave again.”

Nakoa's expression grew thunderous. He touched the garland, then laid a palm over my heart, pressing me against the bed. Speaking long and in a commanding tone accompanied by much head shaking, he made it clear that I would be going nowhere. I flinched back a little at his touch, but he held firm, gentling his tone. Then he picked up my hand again, uncurled my fingers, and placed a kiss on the inside of my wrist.

If the previous caress had been a shiver, this was a bolt that shot into my already pounding heart. I imagined I felt the echo of Nakoa's, beating in the same rhythm, along with that other, wilder heart. In the distance, a musical roar sounded. Nakoa cocked his head at it meaningfully, then kissed the tender skin of my wrist at the pulse point again, watching me as he did. I tried to keep calm, hide my reaction, but it made no difference. His lips curved in an unmistakably sensual smile. “Dafne
mlai
,” he said, and kissed my wrist again.

I stared back at him, my thoughts scattered. Somehow I'd gotten myself engaged or, Goddesses forbid, married to this foreign king, and I had no idea how to get myself out of it.

Ursula was going to kill me.