Time Dancer (23 page)

* * *

Jana ate the cold food in her pack from Myrtlewood’s kitchen to silence her growling belly. It was impossible to tell the time, the sun hiding behind thick clouds still pouring snow. Drifts nearly waist high had settled against the door. She plaited and unplaited her hair just to fill the time.

“Is there a way we can dance in time?”

“Only through your bloodline or the monarchy’s. Do you have a path chosen?”

“No, I just thought...once you become human, I won’t be able to do any more.”

Darach gripped the mantel and stared into the fire. “You will. The talent lies with you. I’ve been a guide only. You no longer need me. Once you naturally enter a deep sleep, the voices will still call you. You’ll then be able to wake at your will without my dormant breath. Never use herbs to bring sleep. Those make it too dangerous. You might not be able to awaken when needed.”

It should have filled her with joy, being able to dance by only her own power but it didn’t. She didn’t want to be alone in that black ocean without him. At least she’d be able to wake every morning with him by her side. “Do you like autumn?”

He looked at her in confusion. “I don’t know of it except through you but I suppose it’s a fine season. Why?”

“I was thinking that would be a good time for our wedding. It won’t be as large or formal as Feena’s, of course, but still, I
am
the High Captain’s daughter. I thought I’d use gold and burgundy for my gown.” A shadow sliced across his face, and fear curdled her stomach. “What’s wrong?”

“Jana.” His chest rose with a deep inhale. “I must return to my realm.”

Pain squeezed her heart. “But, you said...”

“I have no choice.”

“I don’t understand. I thought...I thought you loved me.”

“You were dying!” His hair rippled with the force of his shout. He rubbed his face harshly as if wiping away something foul. “I couldn’t do anything. To keep you alive in time while I searched, I gave away my life. I cannot claim it as a human.”

His shoulders slumped as he turned from the mantel. Without looking at her, he folded his long frame into a chair. “
Nayeli
, forgive me. I’d rather leave you alone and alive than leave you trapped in time to die.”

Battling a salty lump in her throat, Jana blinked. He’d given away his right to choose, given his right to a life for her. She didn’t want to be anywhere without him. Her skin tingled as if she could feel the hours slipping away. It choked like a too-tight collar. He’d said time bent to her whim but that was only in her dreams. In reality, it hurtled by much too quickly.

Jana thrust the sadness away. For these few stolen hours, he was hers. Her footsteps made little sound as she crossed to him. Firelight played over his loose hair, trickling a golden streak into the rich brown fall. It slid through her fingers like watered silk.

“Darach, do you trust me?”

“With all that I am,” he whispered.

Jana drew her dagger. The sharpened steel sliced through a long lock of his hair. He didn’t move until she raised the blade to herself. “Jana, no!”

She cut a matching piece from her own head. The strands plaited quickly in her practiced fingers. Him and her, wrapped so closely together they blended into one length. Now she had something to keep, a physical memory of their love.

He used her knife, cutting into his vest for strips of green silk to bind the braid edges. “Remember me,
nayeli
.”

“I’ll never forget.” Her fingers traced his brow, his nose, his mouth. “Look at me.”

At her low entreaty, he raised his eyes to hers. She wanted to get lost in those eyes, to drown in their depths and never let go. Her touch glided over his cheek, down his jaw, delving lower to the valley below his Adam’s apple. She found a vein beneath his jaw that beat like a drum.

Bittersweetness ached in her chest. His heart beat but he wasn’t human, never would be human. But for this night, perhaps the last night they had together, he would belong to her. The bags of medicinal herbs in her pack would be easy to grab but she didn’t want them. The chances were slim she would conceive his child but she wanted that tiny hope, that glimmer that maybe she could keep some small part of him forever.

The emerald silk of his vest slid down his shoulders with barely a push, puddling on the chair seat. Smooth warm flesh tightened under her caress. Jana sank to her knees, pulling at his boots, but never dropped her gaze. She tossed the wet leather aside. Darach jumped when she ran her fingers along the side of his foot, and her smile spread. He was ticklish. What a preciously personal memory to have.

Tickles were forgotten as her hands crept up, stroking over his hard calves. The cords of his thighs firmed under her palms. Unbuckling his belt widened his eyes but he never looked away. Her fingers slipped into the band of his leggings and the muscles in his stomach quivered. His hand shot to the side, unfastening a hook she’d not known existed. She tugged and he shifted, raising his hips to assist her.

Her hand curled around his rising shaft, gently, teasingly, barely letting him feel her touch. Bending low, refusing to look away, she placed a soft kiss on his left knee. Darach swallowed. She feathered kisses up his leg, just the slightest touch of lips. She used her nails to skim across his skin, leaving gooseflesh in her wake.

Jana lowered her mouth to his staff.

Darach sucked in a rapid breath, his head snapping back. Power and control washed through her. She’d never done this, had only heard tales of such naughtiness, but found it enthralling. She took her time, learning the secret taste of him. She dragged her tongue along the broad head, circling beneath the flared ridge. He fisted her loose hair.

A contented moan worked from her throat as he slid heavy and hard against her tongue. She nipped and sucked, swirled and licked until his hips thrust up. She tried to take all of him but her stomach lurched. Unwilling to leave him, she used her hand to stroke what her mouth couldn’t reach. The robust flavor of lust tinged with a salty maleness enflamed her. A wet ache began between her legs.

She looked up, working her mouth along his shaft. His eyes were huge, dark spots of color darkened his cheeks, and a fine patina coated his brow. Dressed only in the gold band around his upper arm, he exuded pure masculine beauty. She sucked harder, deeper.

“Jana, please.”

“Please what?” Her whisper bathed along his glistening shaft.

“More.”

“More this?” A slow tongue up the underside of his shaft made him inhale with a hissed breath. “Or this?” A quick suck cut the hiss short.

“Just...more.”

She gave him more. More tongue. More licks. More sucks. More strokes. She gave more until his hips rocked and his grip on her hair pulled painfully. Sweat beaded along his temples when she sat back, her chest heaving and lips tingling. The awe shimmering in his eyes set fire to her blood. He made her feel beautiful.

“Stand up,” he whispered.

She rose to her feet and let him tug her tunic over her head. Her bustline was directly in front of him. He cupped her breasts, lifting both as if they were a gift. He took one nipple between his lips. He circled it, drew it deep, lavishing attention to the tip. The wet ache intensified to sweet torment.

One hand pushed her back just enough so he could kneel before her and press his mouth to her navel. Her breeches peeled away, tossed somewhere over his shoulder. Fire warmed the back of her shaking legs, and Darach warmed the front. His hand gliding up her inner thigh increased the heat to a blaze. It roared as his fingers delved between her slick folds.

Her hand clutched at his shoulder for balance as his tongue dipped into her cleft. He tongued her until her knees couldn’t hold her any longer. As if unable to part from her skin, he dragged his kiss up her ribs, up her neck, before finding her lips. His kiss turned feral and a primitive need gripped her.

He turned her, nuzzling behind her ear. His thickened shaft was hard along the swell of her bottom and her desire surged. This was what she wanted, what he was wordlessly showing her he wanted. Pure, basic, natural mating. She turned her cheek into his kiss then dropped to her hands, grinding against him.

Darach needed no coaxing. Instinct served as guide. His hand left her hip long enough to position himself, then he sank inside her with a slow, steady thrust. Jana lowered her forehead to her hands, submitting to his claim on the most primal level. He’d never been so deeply planted inside her and she moaned his name in marvel. He didn’t move for a long moment.

“I love you.”

Jana rocked back to him. “Yes, love me. Love me forever.”

“Eternity.” His lips brushed her back and then he moved.

Lust spiraled through her with his increased rhythm. He cupped one breast, and his hair surrounded them, mingling with hers in a curtain of light and dark. He rolled her taut nipple until a whimper parted her lips. Wet kisses carried murmured words in a foreign tongue along her nape.

She pushed back, wanting more of him, wanting him deeper. He gripped her hips and gave it to her. He faltered, jerking hard and pressing harder. The pads on his fingers dug into her skin and her eyes snapped wide. The rush of his release pushed her over the edge and she screamed. Her nails scratched into the floor and her back arched. She pulsed around him as he pulsed inside her.

Exhaustion took her to the floor and he followed, his body still trapped in hers. He pulled her to her side, curving his frame around hers. His lips fell to her shoulder.

“Oh,
nayeli
, without you, paradise is going to be hell.”

Chapter Thirteen

Darach sat with his back against the wall, just watching her. The blanket draped around her like a shroud, a mourning gown of the lowest variety. Her cornflower gaze trained on the turquoise ring on her hand and her hand clasped the stone he’d rested in. His eyes closed against the sting of tears. He’d miss that tiny circle of stone that held him so close to her heart. He’d miss her.

“Had I not—” His voice caught and he drew a breath to steady his resolve. “You would have married Argot and been happy, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, but don’t ask me to—”

“Jana, I want you to be happy, to find love one day.”

“I found it and now it’s leaving me.”

“My love for you will live forever.”

Along her lips, a tiny smile bowed as she turned the ring along her finger. “Did you know my mother wasn’t from Eldwyn Proper? She was from Hillcrest, near Lake Venica.”

Darach frowned. “No, I didn’t know that.”

“She met my father at Nemury during King Taric’s trial, before he was king, of course. When they married, she moved to Thistlemount with him. That’s the custom. When a woman marries, she leaves her father’s house and becomes part of her husband’s household.”

A rolling drum began in his chest, possibility speeding the beat.

“Before he remarried, before Salome was human, she offered to take him to her realm. He had to stay here. He’s Eldwyn’s Might and Law, the King’s High Captain, so she chose to remain here as well.”

She met his eyes with conviction—stone-solid and unwavering.

“Take me home with you, Darach. I want to be with you in your world.”

Thoughts erupted in his head. He could do it. If she chose to trade her humanity, his world would accept her as his. Eternity would be theirs. His lips parted to agree but something held his tongue. What she asked shouldn’t be considered lightly.

“Jana, do you realize that physical death has to be near? But I can’t...kill you. Not only would it sicken me to hurt you, if I cause your death then I can’t embrace your spirit to take it with me.”

Her mouth firmed into a thin line. “Then I guess I’ll have to do it myself.”

Aghast at her fortitude, he sputtered. “Your body will remain behind, you’ll have no solid form.”

“I’ll have eternal love.”

“You have love here, your family. There’s no way to cross to the other side of life from my realm. You would forever be parted from them, even in death. You could never return.”

“My family would want me to be happy. They’d understand. Take me with you.”

Hope he’d hardly acknowledged tore from him, and a strange sound poured from his throat. It took him a split second to recognize it as a sob. He was across the rough floor in a blink, cradling her, taking her mouth.

“I will wrap you in sunlight, bathe you in music, surround you in the most peaceful joy you can imagine.
Konoronhkwa
, Jana,
oka
nayeli
,
oka
no’ol
.”

“What does that mean?” Her laugh tickled against his lips.

He tucked her hair behind her ear. “Everything. It’s me claiming you as my own evermore. You’ll never die, Jana, never know hunger or pain, sadness or fear. Only love, my love and those of the others welcoming you.”

Unable to pry his mouth from her skin, Darach rained tiny kisses along her shoulder, over the healing red scratch. There was no threat of pain in his realm and he couldn’t wait to bring her there and keep her safe forever. The curve of her jaw held a hint of salt with the sweetness and he nipped.

“Once we reach the charmed ruby and break this curse, I’ll take you to my home,
nayeli
.”

Her nails bit into his arms and she shied away from his mouth. “You can travel through the earth, right? The royal vault is on Thistlemount’s ground level with a stone floor. You could retrieve the ruby. We could break the curse now.”

The possibility stunned him. “Tell me where.”

“The scepter rests in a wooden box with gilded corners and a velvet bed for protection. The scepter’s over six feet tall so you can’t miss it.”

Excitement coursed through him as she outlined where the vault lay and where the wall lanterns were. He dressed and packed a bit of her flint into his pouch, then stood. “What if I’m discovered?”

“Then they’ll take you to the king, which is fine. Just explain why we need the ruby. But it’d be better if you could just get the gem and come back here.”

He dropped a hard kiss on her lips. “I will return,
nayeli
.”

Magic vibrated through him as he dissolved to mist. He used the rock hearth as a conduit to the expanse of Mother Earth. Free of his human shell, his essence was faster and ate the distance in minutes. The winter-cold stone bounced off him. He plowed through the mountain beds, streaming toward the soft soil of the valley. Wells and pits dipped into the Earth’s crust but he only shimmied around them, never slowing his trek. Thistlemount’s bailey walls dug several feet beneath the surface and he used them as a marker. Streaming upward, he rose from the frigid marble floor surrounded by black.

Jana had directed him well and he had no trouble finding the glass globe of a wall lantern in the dark. Sparks flashed as he struck the flint but light sprang from the wick. The tiny flame danced over a myriad of jewels, boxes and bags. A stack of gold bars filled one shelf. Others were lined with family treasures.

The light bounced off a pale peach flower. Darach halted, opened the glass display door and lifted one rose from its padded bed. Rycca’s roses still lived, banished for centuries to this darkened alcove. The fragile glass was cool beneath his fingers. It was lovely but had no softness, no fragrance, nothing of what a true bloom held. He put the flower back on the ledge and searched for the long box.

All he need do was raise his eyes. A maple box glossed to a high shine bore the embossed seal of Eldwyn. The lid made no noise as he lifted it away.

Topping a slender golden staff was a blood-red ruby the size of a chicken’s egg. The clarity was amazing, sending a crimson shade across his hand even in the low light. He pried the gem from the gold setting with ease, the soft metal giving under the slightest bit of force. He frittered away one long moment just caressing the stone, letting the pulse of magic sing to him. Then he tucked it in his purse, blew the light away and sank into stone.

Jana had dressed but her long sunshine hair flowed around her shoulders. He drank in her beauty as he took solid form. She’d be embraced by a multitude but none would love her as strongly as he did. He’d fuse his essence with hers on levels she couldn’t envision in this realm. Simply imaging her twined with him forevermore raged through his core with earthquake force.

He held the ruby out, watched her mouth part in awe.

She stroked the stone with one finger. “I can feel it. It’s singing! Why hasn’t Queen Myla ever to—”

“It sings for you, Jana. End this curse and then come home with me.”

“Will we leave right away? Or will there be a few moments before you’re called?”

“Once a promised duty is complete, we’re summoned home.”

On the table, she laid the intertwined braid of hair and Argot’s ring. “Then I’ll leave this here. Once they find my body, I think my father’ll understand what it means, know where I am.”

Darach cupped her cheek and looked steadily into her eyes. “Be sure you want this.”

“I am.” Her fingers held his to her face then trembled taking the stone from his hand. “How do I do this? A ruby is nearly as hard as a diamond.”

“This isn’t a true gem. It’s blood and dirt, formed with a magic that’s all but exhausted. It will break for you.”

A quick pink tongue flicked out, wetting her lips. “I’ll need something to hit it with.”

The hearth was river rock held by mortar. Darach searched, found a sizable stone near the edge and gripped it. Using power borrowed from Mother Earth, he tore the rock away. Gray dust rained from the hole. Jana placed the ruby on a flat stone before the fire then hefted the heavy rock above her head.

Darach stopped her. “Once the heartmate curse is broken, the call may come swiftly. You need to be ready.”

She freed her small dagger from its sheath. The short, sharp blade caught the firelight as she placed it within her reach on the hearth. She drew a slow breath, blowing it away, then gripped the rock. Her arms shook and breasts heaved with the effort but she held the stone high above her head.

It crashed down with a mighty
crack
!

The ruby splintered to glistening dust. A whiff of purple streamed from the pulverized gem, the last breath of magic fading into the air. Jana dropped the hammering stone and clutched her dagger, holding the point at the rapid pulse visible in her neck. Silence echoed. Their ragged breaths screamed loud as they stared at each other, poised for a miracle, a bridge between this world and his own. They waited.

Jana looked up at the ceiling as if expecting it to collapse at any moment. “Do you hear anything?”

Darach shook his head in bewilderment. “No.”

“Why not? I broke the curse, right?”

Darach angled his head, straining to hear a call that wasn’t there. Something was wrong. Frantically, he scoured his mind, his memory, his magic. The release of the heartmate bond should have been the end of his task. “Oh, Jana.”

“What?”

“When the queen summoned me...what were her words?”

“Exactly?”

His boots stomped against the wooden floor, his hands clutching his loose hair. A growl tore from his throat. “Stupid! I’m so stupid. She said, ‘Power to save a royal line, might to spare sweet blood of mine.’ The queen has more than one son, more than one bloodline to protect. I made a mistake. We saved the wrong son!”

* * *

King’s
bishop
five
. He was safe. King Taric skimmed the tiny parchment scrap even though he’d memorized each word.
Knight
to
pawn
two
.
Fork
escape
. Darach had saved his son’s life two times, both times narrow misses.
No
sacrifice
.
Center
clear
. Batu and Jana were safe inside Myrtlewood’s fortress. Weariness pressed down and he rubbed his eyes. Now if he could only be as sure about his youngest son.

“Found him.” His captain entered the study with a stern wedge in his jaw. “You were right. Warric is with a woman named Kya in a cottage eight miles south of here.”

The king shifted in his seat, trying to dislodge the ache in his chest. Worry over Warric only intensified it. Fear sharpened it to a point and he winced. If Warric truly was the threat to the crown, it would explain why he’d lie about having a bondmate. A heartmate was a powerful bargaining chip, a deadly one. Nausea popped sweat along his upper lip. Somehow, he never envisioned having to use his royal authority to put his own blood on trial.

He rose from his chair, pulled himself to a regal height and forced command into his tone. “Issue a warrant for Warric’s arrest and bring him here, in chains if you must. The woman is the key to controlling him now. Take her, but gently. Don’t harm her. She’ll be the only thing that prevents him from using his magic to get away.”

His captain nodded once, tightly. “I already drafted the order. It just needs your seal.”

King Taric tried to move to the desk but agony exploded in his chest. His left arm went numb and red flashes popped in his vision. Words clogged in his throat, choking him. One hand stretched out to steady himself but pain snapped it back to his heart. The carpeting rushed toward him.

“Taric!”

He never felt the impact. Everything took on a watered haze, blurring and fading. The fear etched on his friend’s face tore at him but he couldn’t speak. Every muscle in his body quivered in misery. He forced one single word from his paralyzed lips.

“Myla.”

“Hold on.” His guard left but the king couldn’t turn his head to watch him leave. Pain ate the minutes, the seconds perhaps, maybe the hours, until a beautiful face appeared leaning over him.

A sharp blade cut away his tunic. His chest heaved and shuddered, his spine cracking with the force of his convulsions. Blood filled his mouth as he bit his cheek. His wife took his hand. He couldn’t make his fingers lace with hers as they had every day for over thirty summers.

“Look.” Her voice sounded far away.

“What the hell is happening? Why is his bondmark changing like that?”

“Darach and Jana. They’re breaking the curse.”

The High Captain yelled. “Like hell, they’re killing him!”

* * *

Batu rubbed his chest, craning his neck to ease the tension. The spiced grouse had been delicious but now he wondered if the heavy seasoning was going to haunt him all night long. The steps warped in his sight but he kept climbing while Paron spoke of a chess match tomorrow. Batu nodded, tugging at the lacings on his borrowed tunic. He couldn’t breathe. Sweat dripped down the sides of his face.

Outside his doorway, pain erupted in his chest and his knees hit the floor. He dimly heard Paron calling for aid, for a guard, for the healer. Batu did nothing but press his forehead to the rug and shake. Sensation left his arms and he tried to roll, to put himself on his back. Nothing in his body listened.

Through cramping muscles and knotted organs, he was vaguely aware of hands lifting him then lowering him onto the mattress. His injured shoulder was nothing compared to the furious burning in his chest. Paron mopped the sweat from Batu’s face with his own tunic sleeve, bellowing for the healer.

Paron’s man-at-arms frowned from the foot of the bed. “Milord, such concern over a horse trader?”

Paron closed his eyes. “God forgive me, this is no horse trader. This is the damned Crowned Prince!”

No matter how hard he tried, Batu couldn’t make his tongue move. Was it more poison? Some illness fate had served him? What was happening? Consciousness began to dim. One name echoed in his darkening mind.
Feena
.