Kingdom's Vice Series: A Voyage of Vengeance ( #2 2015)

Chapter Thirty-Seven

"Skaya?" she calls to me again. This must be the third of fourth time now she has called me. Why wasn't I listening? Why did I not respond?

I whip my head in her direction, revived in the moment. "Sorry, what was it?"

She smiles and nods towards my tapestry. 'It appears someone is trying to reach you,"

I look down at the fabric and see the interwoven laces of silver and lilac have swirled into a thin, wavering line. An inscription reads as follows:

Skaya, Daughter of Fredenya of House Scidarh, read these words and return hither bound!

The room whirls around me, a wind gallops through the still air and I see Erena's face lay open in horror. I look down at the tapestry and watch it dissolve, all its tiny pieces fluttering to the floor.

Erena screams and yells, "Sorcery! Sorcery! The wind takes her!" as she runs out the door.

~.~.~

Wherever I've landed, there's smell in the air that I remember fondly. It's Alec's smell—soft, fresh: clean. I open my eyes and feel a hand on my burning cheek. I gasp when I see his face.

"Alec!" I beam, jumping to my feet and throwing my arms around him, holding him captive. "Light be praised, I'm home!" I lavish him with a long, consuming kiss. I pull away and look around me frantically. "Where are Duhamas and Erena?"

A frown befalls him. "Erena?" his face scrunches up into an unattractive frown. "There are others?"

I nod, "Many," I stop, still clinging to his armoured chest, "Wait, I'm not really here, am I?"

He shakes his head sadly, "It's the best Faeore could summon. She used the Wishing Box we gave her. And it worked," he smiles, pulling me close to him again. But in this moment, a wave of repulsion washes over me.

"Is there something you want to tell me?" I ask, slightly backing away. He frowns. "About Erena?" I clarify. His frown deepens.

His hands fall to my waist and he looks me in the eyes. "Did she say something to you, about when we were children?"

I nod, swallowing as I try to hide the envy that has made a nest inside me, threatening to burst out. "You were going to marry her?"

He sighs and shakes his head, touching my cheek with the back of his hand. "I was just a child then, Skaya." He tells me. "I didn't know then what I know now."

I sit my head to the side, "And what would that be?"

"That I was meant to marry you,"

I scoff and stumble back, forcing myself to pace up and down the length of the room. "But you promised her didn't you? Light be praised, Alec, she thinks you're dead!"

He clamps his mouth shut, suppressing it into a line so tight that even a whisper may not escape his lips. But he wills them forward. "Perhaps it would be better if she thinks that. It is better than her finding out the truth."

My mouth runs dry as I try to conjure more saliva to hydrate it again. I thirst. "She says you disappeared. Is that true?"

A grin curves his mouth, "Unless you count an escapade with an Ivorian thief a mysterious disappearance, perhaps."

I beat my fist hard on his chest, "This is not a joke, Alec!" I yell. "She still speaks of you as if she loves you. Are you just going to let her going on thinking you're dead, missing or betrothed to her?"

His face grows stern now as he moves forward and takes my hands in his. "Skaya, I've told you...this," he looks down at our hands, "this is what I want. I'm your husband and that's all that matters to me."

"But you didn't tell me about her. Your father, he..."

He cuts me off gently, "My father was opposed to us being together. He made it very clear. I only obeyed his wishes, even after his passing."

I take my hands back and fold them across my chest, "And you think marrying a half-Ivorian, half-Allerian would please him?"

He sighs again and wipes a hand over his face. The frustration is oozing from him. Even the air about us is thick with heat and tension. He brings his hand to my cheek. "Now is not the time," he says lazily, "I do not wish to fight with you."

"Nor I you," I say, kissing his palm. "I just want to be home."

He takes my shoulders next. His eyes search mine carefully as he lets out a final sigh. "Where are you?"

I shake my head, "I do not know for certain—an island is all I know. The people run mad with tales and threats. They believe me to be dead, washed ashore."

A deep growl hums in his throat. "And Wayland?"

I pause, "He was left behind. He saved us." Fear pangs in my chest as my thoughts drift to Jasmine. "You mustn't tell Jasmine of this, not until we find a way home!"

"Your uncle has already sent a legion to look for you," he tells me. "But speak of this to no-one, not even Duhamas. I do not doubt that the hostile among you may not view our coming kindly."

I nod, savouring his words. "How long do I have?" I say, shaking a little.

He stands firm, but his tone betrays him. "I don't know. But you are starting fade already. Whatever Faeore conjured, I doubt it was permanent." He looks down at the hollow of my throat as his hands snake their way to my neck. "Your pearls are gone," he whispers.

I gasp and take his hand, "I lost them. I'm sorry."

He shake his head and presses his forehead against mine. "Don't apologize. Just come home."

We stand in silence for a long while, a beautiful, unhindered moment of bliss. Tears crawl their way up into my eyes, priming the eyeline for the flood. "I don't want to go," I cry out, feeling afraid. I do not want to let him go, not ever—not even when I'm mad at him. "I don't want to go back there,"

He pulls me against him and I bury my face in his chest, breathe him in. "I don't want you to," he replies softly, his hands clasped around me. "This is the longest we've been apart. But we will see each other again soon. I know we will."

I look up at him, my eyelashes brushing the tip of his chin, "I shall adore you from the dawn of the morning to the fall of the night." I kiss him. "Does that please you, my lord?"

He smiles down at me, chuckling, "It does." A kiss and a squeeze. "But Alleria is not graceland you remember so fondly. Darkness has found us here, and I fear it may linger a while..."

"What about the king?" I ask, watching my hands dissolve in his. A thousand tiny pieces fly up into the air, pale and pink and peeling. "Can he not do something?"

His eyes wander, falter in the light. He is hiding something from me.

"Alec," I call out to him as I feel every fibre of my body stretch and peel away from itself. There is no pain, just a tingling. "What are you not saying? What has he done?"

Our hands slip apart and I feel the whirling wind take me again, stretching and pulling me in all direction, tearing me from his sight.

"I love you," he yells, his hands still outstretched as if to catch me. "I will see you again!"

And then he is gone.

Eyes are watching. Many eyes.