Llewella woke to the sound of gentle, even breathing and a warm hand resting on her belly. She smiled to herself and turned to Jonas. She was surprised by how refreshed she felt. The movement was enough to stir him, and his eyes opened.
“Good morning,” he greeted her, his voice muffled by the pillow. “I think I got your hangover.” He rolled onto his back.
She gave him a smile, but inside she cursed herself. It wasn't fair to go passing her stupidity onto her friends. If it was possible, she needed to learn how to control her power.
She shuffled closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder, breathing him in. Was this how her parents had felt about each other? No wonder her mother's death had pained her father so.
“I wish this moment could last forever.”
He kissed the top of her head but said nothing.
“It can't, can it?” When he didn't reply, she continued, “Aris wants me kept safe, and you're a lieutenant in the army. You won't have time to stick around.” She pushed herself up on an elbow, enjoying the feel of his skin with her other hand. He was looking at her, listening, but his expression gave nothing away. “And then there's the small matter of Aris wanting you for his Syakaran breeding program.”
Jonas sat up in the bed and swiveled his legs off the edge. Llew's eyes trailed down the mighty black curves of his tattoo.
“What if he doesn't find one?”
He turned his head and she gazed on his profile. Now free to do so, she openly admired what she saw: a strong brow, straight nose, full lips...
“I don't know, Llew. A little over a year ago I was gettin' ready to meet my son or daughter. But he, she... it— Gods, I wish I knew!” He slapped the edge of the mattress. “My wife and our child were taken from me.” He turned to her. “I ain't planned for nothin' since.”
She felt terrible for his loss, she really did. Of course, she did. But she couldn't help feeling that if he hadn't suffered that, she wouldn't be here with him now. Would he have even been in Aghacia a month prior? Would they ever have met? If he hadn't lost his family, Llew could have been in Braph's, or Turhmos's hands already. She might not even have had the option of going to Quaver, even if she did still have to talk herself around to wanting that as a future. Quaver looked a whole lot more appealing if she went with Jonas, rather than just being escorted by him.
She placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Would he ever let me have you?” She let her hand drop, brushing down his side with the backs of her knuckles. It must have tickled, because he flinched and snatched her fingers in a fierce grip; then he held them gently, giving her a playful smile. He pressed her knuckles to his lips.
“Let's get you safely to Quaver—” Kiss. “—out of the reach of Braph—” Kiss. “—and Turhmos.” Kiss. “Then we can make a plan.”
He released her hand and began pulling on his clothing.
“Tell me you didn't just sleep with me only to leave me behind at the end of all this.”
He leaned back across the bed and kissed her gently.
“I care about you, Llew.”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“It means...” He stood up. “It means I want what's best for you. It means I ain't even sure you'll be safe in Quaver.”
“I would be if I was with you.”
“Llew, look at me. I'm surrounded by ghosts. I ain't about to let you become one of them.”
“But I don't want to live my life not living. And what about you? You want to live the rest of your life running from love because you might lose it again? My pa did that. Maybe he was right, maybe he would never have found anyone like my ma, but he didn't even try, and look where that got him.”
Jonas pressed his lips together and turned away to finish buttoning his shirt.
“You can't live under Aris's thumb forever.”
“I can't go from his to yours, neither.” The words were as effective as a physical shove. Llew's mouth fell open. Jonas sighed, clamped his lips tight against further chastisement, or maybe an apology. He scooped up his knife from beside the bed and crossed the room to the door.
Gut-punch or not, she couldn't let him walk out on that note.
“Wait!” She leaped from the bed, leaving the sheet behind in her eagerness.
Jonas stopped halfway through the door, grinning at her nakedness as she looked around for something to cover herself and finally returned for the sheet. She tugged it from the bed and skipped across the room, gripped his collar, drew him to her, and placed a lingering kiss on his lips. He smiled when their lips parted. She smiled back at him.
“More of those, please,” she said.
“Kisses?”
“Smiles.”
“Get dressed,” he whispered. “I'll meet you at breakfast.” His smile broadened and he began to close the door behind him.
The first clue that they were not alone was the fist that connected with Jonas's jaw. Taken by surprise, he was knocked down. Cursing, he caught himself on an elbow and was up in an instant to return the blow. The knife fell from his grip, clattering along the hard surface. Alvaro was on the ground with Jonas on top of him before Llew could do any more than gasp.
“Stop!” she cried as she knotted the sheet around her and tried to wrench Jonas from Alvaro by tugging on his shirt. “Stop it! Stop it!” She grabbed Jonas's arm and he let her pull him up.
Alvaro pushed himself from the floor, lunging at Jonas. Llew shoved Jonas out of the way and took the fist full on her cheek, tasting blood as her teeth cut into her skin.
“Llew! I'm sorry, Llew.” Alvaro's voice was just audible over the ringing in her ears.
“Stop!” she screeched as Jonas lined Alvaro up for retaliation. She splayed her arms between them, trying to keep them away from each other. The men eased their stances, still eying one another, and still ready to reply if the other made a move.
Doors along the hallway opened and heads emerged, with some people making their way into the hall to see what was happening.
“Jonas!” Aris's gruff voice rang down the hall as he strode, half-dressed, towards them. “What's going on?”
“Nothin',” said Jonas.
Aris looked over the three of them. He turned to Jonas.
“Nothin', huh? Doesn't look like nothing to me. Llew?” He raised an eyebrow at her standing there wrapped in nothing but a sheet.
Alvaro's face darkened and guilt rose within Llew. Accepting his invite to the dance had not been a promise of anything more, but...
As whispers filled the hallway, Llew straightened, presenting a defiant face. What she did, and with whom, was her business.
“Oh, Jonas.” Aris's tone brimmed with disappointment.
“Leave me be, Aris. I know what I'm doin',” Jonas said.
“Do you?”
“It was you who told me not to let her out o' my sight.” Jonas lifted his head to look the older man in the eye. “I was keepin' an eye on her.”
“You know damned well that wasn't what I meant,” said Aris.
“Just what did you mean?” Llew pulled the sheet tight and stood as tall as she could. “You want him to keep me out of Turhmos's and Braph's hands for what, exactly? What do you have planned for me? And what about Jonas? What are your plans, Aris? Jonas isn't some stallion you put to stud. He's a man. He doesn't deserve to carry the weight of your dreams, and everyone else's. Let him have his own.”
Jonas's ears were flaming red. His lips remained clamped shut as he looked from Aris to Llew, fuming, before storming down the hallway and out of sight. Llew watched him go, baffled by his reaction. She'd just been fighting for him – did he not want what she wanted? Did he not want to break free from Aris's grip? I can't go from his to yours, neither, he'd said.
Jonas's knife lay where it had slid and Llew stooped to collect it before dashing into her room. She pulled on her old shirt and pants and darted back out again. She glared at everyone still milling about, daring them to say anything, and brushed Alvaro's hand with her own before continuing down the hall.
“You deserved that,” she said in response to his yelped complaint. The broken skin of her cheek rejoined, and her head stopped aching, and she headed the way Jonas had gone.
Just around the corner, she met Cassidy coming from another wing.
“How's the head this morning?” he asked with a knowing smile.
“Fine.”
He looked skeptical at first, then clicked. “Found someone to pass it on to, did we?”
Llew blushed.
“Ah.” He smiled.
“I have to find Jonas,” she muttered, continuing on.
She supposed that, as with the previous day, he had sought sanctuary in the quiet of the stables. At least the horses didn't judge. She ran downstairs and through hallways, finally emerging into daylight. There was no sign of Jonas. He'd be in the stable already.
“Hello, Llewella.”
The smooth voice stopped her in her tracks.
“Braph.” She turned to face the man from the ball the night before. Today he wore his customary leather. She let the hand carrying Jonas's knife fall to her side, hoping he wouldn't notice.
“You know who I am. Fabulous,” he said. “That will save some time.”
“And you know me.” She scanned the area around them. For a place filled with people, it was strangely quiet. But people had been up late the previous night, either attending or organizing the ball. They would all be sleeping in, and those that weren't had work to do. There was no one around.
“Of course, I do. I've been... studying your family for a very long time.”
Llew's heart beat faster. Could she run to the stable before he caught her? She doubted it. Even without his magician's device, he was a Karan. He might not be as quick as Jonas, but he would be faster than her.
Hisham appeared around a corner. “Llew. Wha—”
“Hisham! It's Braph!”
Llew turned and ran for the stable as soon as Braph's attention shifted to Jonas's friend. She hoped it wouldn't mean he was hurt, but she had to get away. She heard the thumps and crashes of the too-brief fight behind her, and then running footsteps catching up fast. She didn't look to see who it was. She knew. If Hisham had won, he'd have called out to her, or simply let her go.
“Jonas!” she cried. And then Braph had her wrapped in his arms and they were stumbling, falling. The ground rushed toward her, and then it rushed away, even faster.
They were flying.
Jonas exited the stable, looking around. Braph's hand clamped over her mouth. Their trajectory took them over the estate's wall. She watched in shock as Jonas looked over at Hisham slowly, stiffly pushing himself from the ground, and then Llew lost sight of them both.
She and Braph crashed to the ground at the edge of the forest beside the estate and Llew rolled from Braph's grasp. Somehow, she still held Jonas's knife. Clutching it tight, she ran at Braph. Surely, he would be as susceptible to a blade as anyone else? She drew it back as she neared him, then swept it forward and lunged – and his hand grabbed her wrist. She fought against him, but his grip was like iron. She hit him with her other hand while he fiddled with his foot.
He came up again, clicked something on his bracelet and a crystal flew out. Then he clicked the one in his hand in its place, spun her back into him again, gripping her tightly to him. Everything went white, then black, and Llew's ears screamed.
When they crash-landed again, it took several minutes for Llew to open her eyes and find the strength to lift herself from the ground and look about. Braph was lying on the ground beside her, drenched in sweat: but he was watching her, and the look in his eyes told her he still believed he had enough to catch her should she try to run. She didn't think she had the energy to do so, anyway.
They were in the middle of a field of dry, scratchy grass, reminiscent of areas around Cheer. The land was flat for miles in all directions, the landscape featureless from their vantage point, exactly unlike Cheer. The sun shone from a clear blue sky, but there was no heat in it.
Llew's hands were empty. Shit. Jonas would kill her if she lost his knife – not that he would be able to, but that wasn't the point. She looked around them, panicking that it had been dropped in mid... flight? But then she spotted it in the grass nearby, the ribbon still tied around the handle. Braph just watched as she scurried on hands and knees to collect it. She wished he didn't know she had it. Still, perhaps she could turn it to her advantage, somehow. One thing she was almost certain of: Braph didn't want her dead.
“Where are we?” she demanded, holding the knife as threateningly as possible.
Braph smiled. “Right about in the heart of Turhmos, if my navigation is as good as it should be.”
“Turhmos,” Llew breathed. In the middle of the country that wanted her children, with the man who wanted her blood.
“We still have a way to go. But we've got a good head start if that brother of mine decides to come after you.” Braph scrabbled to his feet, and Llew followed him up with the knife point. It was an impotent gesture. Despite the dripping sweat, he moved with the ease of a man with plenty in reserve.
He looked at his wrist device and his lips pressed together. He popped out the crystal.
“Here.” He held it out to her. It was a dull purplish color. “The last piece of your mother.”
Llew did not move for a moment, paralyzed by the words. Then she took the crystal gingerly, not sure whether to cherish it or toss it away in disgust. She supposed if she kept it for now, she could toss it later, so she pressed it deep into a pocket.
Braph clicked another crystal into the device on his wrist, then held out a hand expectantly. Llew looked at it, confused for a moment, and then she remembered the knife.
“No. It's Jonas's knife. I have to give it back to him.” She held the knife behind her.
Braph tilted his head, giving her a flat look. “You won't be seeing him again. It doesn't fit with my plans.”
“If he doesn't come looking for me, he will come for this.” Llew scowled at the flash of annoyance that went through her as she realized she was right. It was possible Jonas might not come to find her. They hadn't known each other that long, and he had a long history of hating her kind. For all she knew, he and Aris might be quietly glad she was back where she belonged. The knife was a different matter. She shoved it at Braph, over-shooting his waiting hand, but he caught it – and did so safely. Damn it.
“Does it make you feel any better to know that he once cared so little for the knife that he gave it to me? He thought I coveted it most.” Braph swiveled on the spot, studying the landscape. “He was right.” He looked down at Llew. He was so like Jonas, and his eyes were haunted by the same sadness touched with guilt; he was taller though, and colder. “But his greatest gift to me would come when I met your mother. I knew what she was the minute I saw her; that complexion stands out in Quaver. And this knife made the taking so much easier. I had planned to return it to him one day.” His face twitched at the remembered annoyance.
“You did. When you killed his family.”
“That way.” He pointed, ignoring her. How he knew one way from the other, Llew couldn't guess. It all looked the same to her. Sure, there were mountains in the distance at a couple of angles, but they were too far away to distinguish any features.
“Move.” Braph shoved her and they began the long trek through the tall grasses.
