Daggers of Ice

Chapter 20

Cair Paravel.

Jenari.

Jenari woke, his senses alert, his blood pounding heavily in his ears. But not yet did he open his eyes. To calm the beating of his heart he concentrated on the silken feel of the sheets that covered him, imagining the deep crimson that shimmered in the early morning sunlight. Someone was watching him, their eyes upon him through the darkness. He pictured the great chandelier that hung from the ceiling of his new chambers, the hundreds of crystals casting beautiful rainbows across the stone walls.

And then he heard it; the soft breathing of another.

And then he lit the lantern by his bed, his movements slow and steady. The room was illuminated; light flaring from corner to corner, deep shadows stretching across the wall.

He saw the figure, clothed in shadows; peel itself from the window frame. Curtains fluttering around the distinctly feminine form, lithe limbs that seemed to shimmer in the flickering light.

No, he amended his thoughts, it was the glittering pigment of her bare hands and feet that was shimmering softly. A dryad.

But she did not wear the torn forest green leathers or feathers; instead she wore black, dark leather encasing slender limbs. All this he noticed in one glance, and then his gaze rested on her face; his eyes widening in shock. His breath caught in his throat.

He knew it was her, he knew every plane of her face. He had traced that nose, those cheekbones many times. He had touched those lips.

"Myria?" Perhaps she was a ghost, summoned by his very thoughts of her.

But she seemed tangible; so real.

He was dreaming.

He had to be.

"Myria?" The question left him once more and he moved to embrace her, sitting up in his bed. But something stopped him. There was something wrong; he'd seen her set alight and dragged away on the back of a horse . He'd seen her skin, twisted and blackened.

The fire had consumed her.

He had watched it claim her.

He had watched the light leave her eyes.

Then she stepped forward, the light illuminating her face. Illuminating those brilliant red eyes; eyes the colour of blood. "Jenari," her voice, which had once whispered sweet nothings in his ears, was void of anything remotely caring. There was no laughter in her eyes, no smile tucked into the corner of her lips. It was as if the very essence of Myria had been sucked out and replaced with a stranger. But still...he could not help but reaching out for her, holding her arms out to him.

A grin cracked across her face, her eyes brightening, and she leaped onto the bed with him, smothering his face with kisses. The uneasiness which had risen within him was dispelled immediately as he felt her warm form.

He knew her, he knew her shape.

And how he had missed her.

"Arianna seems so different-changed," Myria smiled up at him, snuggling into his arms like she used to, pressing her nose into the crook of his neck.

"The one that Jadis was so besotted with, the dark king, has captured what remains of her heart," he told her softly, not expecting her to stiffen. He would have thought that she would have been happy for their friend. "And I do believe he feels the same."

Her breath caught.

Did she not hate Arianna for sending her to her death?

"Why are thee not with her?"