Ghost in my Heart [Darklands Book 4] Page 6

  "It's possible,” Ser said firmly. He wouldn't have spoken if he wasn't convinced of it. It was his way.

  Encouraged by Ser's words, Dagon allowed himself a small smile. Vana was a choice he could bear. Of course, he didn't have to choose whoever the council selected. He could go without. That option was hardly palatable.

  And Vana was ... acceptable. He ignored his quickened pulse. True, her soft heart would have to be governed, but he could easily do that. It was preferable to the alternative. Perhaps she was too contentious for her own good, but at least she had spirit. She was athletic, intelligent and good with children. Her body....

  He glanced casually at Ser. “Very well. Since you suggested it. We'll test her."

  * * * *

  The ceremonial robes they'd insisted she wear kept tripping her. Tired of stumbling over the layered silk hem, she plopped herself in a chair and fingered the gold embroidery. The high-collared robe was stiff, blue, and weighed on her shoulders, reminding her that what she was doing was no light thing. In contrast, the pale blue sheath under it was nearly weightless, making her feel as if she were about to strut around in public in her pajamas. At least the robe had gold closures, though they were chunky and designed to show the sheath beneath.

  They had moved her to a room much closer to Dagon's. Down the hall, in fact. The reason given was that it would allow the boys easier access to their new ‘mother'. She didn't know if she bought that, but she did like the privacy.

  The room was done in warm tones of pink, with the occasional burst of shocking cherry and white in the huge urns and intricately painted flower pots. A musical instrument of the harp persuasion occupied one corner of the room. Ideally she wondered if she were expected to learn it. Good luck there. Her new bed was immense and spread with a white velvet coverlet embroidered with a crest. Dagon's, she suspected. It made her feel odd, as if he'd placed his stamp upon her.

  A riptide of emotions swirled in her heart as she thought about the coming ceremony. The boys were a pack of wolf cubs. Too old for their age, yet mischievous enough to give the faint of heart fits. Already she could see that they were going to grow into wild warriors. And they worshiped their brother Dagon. When they weren't fighting or plotting, they constantly practiced their martial arts.

  To his credit, Dagon noticed their efforts to please him. He knew just the moment to speak a word of praise, and just the right kind of frown to gain instant obedience. She could see him as a leader in battle. From what she'd observed, he ran his kingdom well.

  She was still determined to leave. Maybe it was dishonorable of her, but she planned to subtly pump the boys for information. While she was at it, she'd learn all she could of the world that had snatched her. The more she knew, the easier it would be to escape and elude capture. Ideally, she would get out within the month. Already she could feel the growing familiarity with this place sucking her in. The longer she was here, the worse it would be. Risky as it was, she had to take the earliest opportunity to leave.

  Now she just had to figure out how she'd got here in the first place.

  A knock sounded on the door. “Lady Vana? It's time."

  The grand hall she was led to was filled with a glittering array of guests. Many of the women from the harem were there beside the soberly robed warriors. They watched her with a mixture of resentment, puzzlement or curiosity. Jen was there with Ser. She gave Vana a small smile.

  Dagon stood at the head of the hall on a small dais. The expression on his face was solemn to match the occasion. Light gleamed off his glossy black body armor. A gold trimmed, long coat of scarlet swirled around him. It was sleeveless, with a Chinese collar trimmed in red.

  Breathless from the sight, she looked at the boys who stood just below the dais, smiling at their expressions. Young Devin, not yet a teen, had the rebellious light of hope shining in his eyes. His white outfit, the same as the others wore, made him look like an adolescent white knight.

  As dark as Devin was blond, Keg's stare dared her to back out. How could she when she knew the tattoo on his face had been put there by his dying father, the last of his family? He'd wanted to see the last hope of his bloodline on the face of his son, to remind Keg of the need to survive and save their line. It was too heavy a burden to let the boy bear alone. Who would teach him moderation in his quest to please the dead? Someone had to give him back the gift of his childhood.

  And the twins. Destined to be lady killers, both betrayed their youth with the hopeful fear they tried to hide. She wondered how long their white outfits would survive the trauma they'd put them through.

  "Lady, are you ready?” Dagon asked, prompting her to look at him.

  "I am."

  He gestured, and his mother stepped forward. Vana felt the blood leave her face. She hadn't expected Ellyn to show up.

  As serene as if the moment mattered nothing to her, Ellyn said calmly, “From this moment on, I relinquish my children. I did not birth them. I do not know them.” She turned her back on the boys. In response, every soul in hall did the same. They stood there, repudiated before everyone they knew, motherless. Unwanted.

  Horrified, for Vana had never expected this kind of humiliation for them, she sought Dagon's hard gaze. He'd been abandoned, too.

  Slowly, her hand curled into a fist. Making sure her voice carried throughout the hall, she stepped forward and said the words she'd been taught, plus some. “I want them. They will be my sons. It will be as if they came from my body. When they bleed, my heart will bleed. Those who will not acknowledge them will not be welcome in my house. They are dead to me."

  Gasps went through the hall. That last bit had not been part of the little speech they'd taught her. Considering her position, it was as daring as actually slapping Ellyn's face.

  Ellyn stiffened. The guests turned around as tradition demanded. For long seconds it looked as if Ellyn would simply walk off and never face them. But finally, her face proud and cold, she turned, though the hand clenched in her yellow robe trembled.

  Vana didn't care. Any woman who could do that to her children was not a woman Vana wanted near them.

  Dagon glanced at Ellyn. Grimly, he told the boys, “Greet your mother.” As she'd been coached, Vana knelt and accepted their light touches on her shoulders as they affixed the beads with their name runes engraved on them in her braided hair. Each bead was carved from the stone for their birth week. When they were finished, she had two beads of jade, one of gold, and a winking ruby among her tresses. It felt good. The glow of family filled an ache she hadn't known was empty.

  Maybe she had found a reason to stay after all.

  Dagon was polite to those at the banquet, though he said little, especially to Vana. Had she not been so distracted by the merrymaking, she might have paid closer attention.

  She might have feared.

  When the feast was over, she was summoned to his room.

  The door closed. That was the first bad sign.

  Still dressed in black, though he'd discarded the red robe, Dagon advanced on her with the slow tread of a stalking cat. Dark rage shimmered from his every line. “I have never, never felt so much like beating a woman,” he breathed in her face. “How dare you cast Ellyn out!"

  Confused, but unwilling to be cowed, she said tightly, “The woman deserved it."

  He made a slow circle around her. His size dwarfed her, his closeness made her feel the danger. “Do you have any idea how powerful of an enemy you've made today? Do you have some hidden protection that I can't see? Ellyn has reason now to despise not only you, but what are now your sons. You publicly humiliated her. She will never forgive it."

  Bile churned in her stomach. Even her teeth wanted to chatter with her fury. It was too much like her father, the way Ellyn had turned her back. Vana could still see his face as he shoved her mother out of his way, given his little girl a look of disgust, and left for good. “I hate the air she breathes! I don't care if she does hate me."

  Dagon's teeth flashed in a
snarl as he grabbed her and shoved her up against the wall. Face contorted with emotions she couldn't fathom, he rasped at her, “She will try to kill you. Is that worth your revenge? Is death a high enough price to pay?"

  "What is that to me? You've already taken away everything I loved. My world! What's it to you if you she takes my life, too?"

  He shoved away from the wall as if she'd burned him. “You are a fool."

  Just then, she felt like one. Had she ever felt soft toward him? Where had this dark side of his come from? It didn't take much to tell her that any move she made would ignite his shaky temper. And just then, she wasn't sure she could control the watery burning that threatened to spill down her cheeks. Though they were born of wrath, she couldn't bear to shed tears in front of him.

  He looked at her. His face hardened. “Get out."

  Dagon watched her leave, furious at the loss of control he'd just shamed himself with. He'd meant to chasten and warn her. Instead....

  He paced. The moment Ellyn had turned her back and Vana had looked at him with eyes that were open windows to her soul, he should have known. Every thought in her heart was bare to him, and his own had shuddered with impact of the connection. But it had still rocked him to hear the words that put her in mortal combat with a woman who had seen more than her share of opponents to their defeat. This time he feared the grudge match would see Vana in her grave.

  Unable to bear the memory, he cursed. She had no idea. That heart he'd pegged as too soft had led her. Without his guiding hand, she had leapt into the fire to protect the innocent.

  She was a fool.

  Dagon's hand clenched. Bloody disrespect for politics. Overblown noble urges. The woman was the worst possible candidate for queen. Testing or not, he was not going to accept her. No woman who thought the way she did would survive the position.

  He left the room in search of Jen.

  * * * *

  Vana adjusted the cuff on her left arm and spared a thankful thought for the slit harem pants and midriff baring top. They were flexible and cool for working out. The metal cuff blared Queen's Who Wants to Live Forever as she started to climb the revolving training wall. Sometimes she could almost thank the Beasts for downloading the internet in their quest to capture women. The pounding music helped her not to think.

  The rough rocks bit into her hands, wearing at skin that wasn't as calloused as it was going to be, although the rag strips she wrapped around her palms provided some protection. She refused to ask for gloves. Her guard already frowned at her hours of exercise. Begging for anything from Dagon was out, and she didn't know who else to ask. After half an hour the blisters on her fingers mixed with the sweat and oozed, making her grip treacherous. Since she was already quivering with exhaustion and dripping sweat, she let the wall carry her to the bottom and got off.

  A towel was thrust into her line of vision. She took it and stared at Ser, who reached over and turned off her music with a grimace.

  "You look awful,” he said, frowning at her.

  She let out a shuddering breath and mopped at her face. Maybe, but it let her sleep at night. Two days had passed since she'd been summoned to Dagon's room. Two days in which she'd spent every spare minute trying to forget.

  Vana sat on the floor and took a huge gulp of her water bottle, vaguely surprised when Ser joined her.

  He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “You should ignore his temper."

  She stiffened. “Did he send you?"

  He shrugged. “I like to interfere.” His teeth flashed in a quick grin. “And it's painfully obvious he's set on annoying me until I give him back the distraction of you."

  She snorted.

  "It's true. I haven't seen him this brooding since the birth of his last half-brother."

  The admission earned him a grunt. It was all she was willing to contribute to the conversation.

  Ser glanced up at the wall. “Why do you do this? You've been offered a life of ease. Why don't you enjoy it?"

  "I'm the captain of my own soul, and it's a restless spirit. I'll do it until I'm forbidden, and then I'll do it in my own room where no one can watch or stop me. I need it."

  Those knowing eyes studied her. “You're afraid."

  "We're all afraid of something.” She gazed across the vastness of the training area. The unused portions were in shadow. For the second night running, she'd been alone. She doubted it was an accident. Either the men had been ordered away while she was there, or they avoided her workouts for cultural reasons. Both options made her feel depressed. Already she was more isolated than she cared to be, since the harem wasn't a welcome place to be now that she'd adopted the boys. Too many women turned their backs on her. Other than Jen, there hadn't been that much time to connect with them, anyway. Not for an introvert like her.

  He followed her gaze. “This seclusion is not good for you."

  She shrugged. Even back home she'd had a hard time making friends.

  "Where are your sons?"

  Did he ever give up? “Around. They got their figurehead and then scampered off to plot some more, according to their brother.” The mention of Dagon depressed her. She fiddled with her bottle.

  "They are unused to having a mother, which is what I think you wanted to be. Maybe you should make the first gesture."

  "They don't need me."

  Ser glowered at her impatiently. “Are you always such a coward?” Before she could retort, he went on ruthlessly, “You have the Tzar of my people so stirred over you that he can't sleep and the sons you professed to want in your hands, yet you won't finish the chase. Have you thought of the good you could do the women as queen? Or would you like the next one to be like the dowager Ellyn? What do you think Dagon could possibly do to you as his consort that would outweigh the power of that position?"

  "The position isn't open,” she said through clenched teeth. “I don't want it open. I don't want him! I want to go home. Why should I get attached to anything or anyone here? I don't belong here.” She stood up.

  He rose, towered over her. “You never belonged anywhere else. This place can be what you shape it to be, if you've the courage not to run away."

  "If you were me, is that what you'd call it? Running away?” she demanded.

  "I'll never be you. I face my battles, and I know my options. If you had the courage, you'd seize the prize instead of running down the path of least resistance."

  "So it's going to be easy to go home?” she challenged him, unable to let him just stand there and tell her what she thought, what she felt.

  He leaned in close, ignoring her question. “Will you ever forget him if you leave? Do you not think he would be inside you, a ghost in your heart?"

  Vana couldn't answer him.

  He nodded and walked away, leaving her alone in the echoing gym.

  * * * *

  Vana took a fast shower under the multiple showerheads in her private bathroom, and then donned the bright yellow and black patterned square that served as alien nightwear. It had a fringe and was knotted at the shoulder, leaving one shoulder bare. The abbreviated sari remained open at one side, revealing flashes of skin as she moved, yet covering the essentials. Soft and thin enough to feel weightless under the covers, it did not bunch or drag at her as she tossed in her bed, and was more secure than sleeping naked.

  As she stared at the ceiling, willing herself to sleep, Ser's words played in her mind. Now that he'd rubbed her nose in it, she realized that yes, the woman who married Dagon would become queen. One plus one equals royalty. If anything, it only made him seem more forbidding in her mind. Who wanted to be a queen? And in spite of her unique position, she neither wanted the job nor considered herself in the running for it. If Dagon was losing sleep over her, it was because of the problems she caused him. Had she been the type to indulge in wishful thinking, she'd have hoped that he'd be inspired to send her troublesome self home. The realist in her knew better. If she got home, it would be because she was smart enough to get t
he job done herself.

  It might involve using people. That part she hated. She would do her best to avoid it, but if it came down to a choice between staying here and getting home....

  She rolled over and pounded her pillow, trying not to think about the luxuries of not paying rent or doing her own laundry. Chores were good. They meant she was making her own choices, living her own life. Maybe that life had been a bit empty, but....

  Groaning in frustration, she buried her head under the pillow and willed herself to sleep.

  * * * *

  The Beast was big, black and crawling up her bed. Vana stared in horror as the scene played out in slow motion. He wanted her. Though he had yet to touch her, he pinned her in place with the force of his will alone. He was all about claiming. Possession. Passion. And he terrified her like nothing she'd felt in her life.

  She woke with a muffled scream, flailing about in the tangled covers. It took long moments to clear her head, but when it did....

  Rolling over, she pulled the covers over her head. She had to get out of there!

  * * * *

  The boys were in the kitchens, doing their pagely duties. She'd been surprised that morning when she'd learned that even young princes were expected to work their way up the ranks like everybody else. When she spotted Devin doing his hour of vegetable scrubbing, though, she had to wonder at the wisdom of starting so young. The kid was soaked with water and seemed to be doing his best to annoy the older lad in charge of watching him.

  Easily six foot, the white haired boy scowled at Devin as he rewashed the occasional vegetable and chopped it with the skill of a television chef. He was handsome, in a grumpy sort of way. Too bad he was too young to be allowed to choose a wife. Some of the younger girls would have drooled over him for sure.