Dockalfar (29 page)

Dangerous. He was like a golden god from her dreams, so handsome, so debonair. And he did want her. She felt that. He was greedy for her, or something she possessed. There was a tickle outside the barrier of her shields. A feather caress, that she hardly noticed. Or was it feather soft? Had she only just noticed the prying, nagging attempt at intrusion, at first so delicate and sensuous, now rougher with impatience. She whipped around and met him face to face. She had to crane her neck to meet his eyes. She forced a cold smile and a calm face. Inside she was quivering.

“I don’t think so,” she said quietly.

His fine golden brows drew. He did not step back from her. He lifted a long fingered hand to her cheek, caressed her skin with his knuckles. She endured it.

“What can I do to gain your trust?” He was asking her. He was giving her the bargaining power. She was amazed. He valued her that highly.

“I’ll think about it,” she stated boldly, “and get back to you.”

The door was unlocked. She had not expected it to be otherwise. It would not serve Azeral’s purpose –whatever that might be – to say she was not a prisoner, then keep her locked in her room. She ventured out into his keep. It was nothing like Ashara’s. It was older than time itself. As old as the mountains it sat within. Even lacking direct contact with the magic, she could feel the weight of its age. It was daunting in its immensity. She did not like it one bit. It made her cold, even though the air was warm with the crackle of fires. After some time of wandering its halls and its great rooms, she thought she knew what part of its problem might have been. It was so vast a structure, so huge a keep, but its populace was slight. There were more servants than sidhe, at least as far as she could see. But even with master and servant clumped together, the halls could not be filled. The bustle of activity, the sound of voices raised in laughter, in conversation and argument, the sight of folk moving to and fro might have made it seem more a home and less an archaic, dark monastery.

The bendithy servants, when she did come upon them, eyed her warily and avoided her path. No word did any one of them speak to her. Uncomfortable with their frightened stares she did not offer any of her own. And the sidhe…. The sidhe she avoided. Their eyes, although wary, lit up with perverse interest upon sight of her. She had no wish to tangle with any of them with no access to magical defense. She was wishing very strongly that she had never left Ashara’s keep.

She went back to her room eventually, with just a little directional help from a spriggan female that she snagged for help. Another meal was waiting for her. This time consisting of fresh fruits and boiled, seasoned vegetables. She picked at the fruit, familiar with most of it. The vegetables were to her liking and with more appetite than she had expected of herself finished them off.

The night was spent in varying degrees of sulk. She fine-tuned her anger and her lists of wrongs done her. She wanted very much to find Alex and give him a piece of her mind. When she slept, she dreamed of turmoil and betrayal. She could remember little of the details when she awoke.

Of course there was a breakfast tray waiting for her in the morning. There was also a selection of gowns in the closet alcove that had not been there the night before. She ignored them in favor of her own leather. She had not yet decided to accept Azeral’s hospitality. She finished her breakfast and set out to test the limits of her captivity. There was no memory of her trip from the great hall to her room, and she had not come upon it in yesterday’s wonderings. She intended to find it, for it was the only exit she knew of to the outside world. She figured it was on the lower levels of the great keep, so she descended any stairs that could be found.

After exhausting most of the morning she did eventually come to the balcony that stretched over the great entrance hall. She looked down upon the expanse uncertainly. Servants walked here and there. Ogres stood guard at the massive double doors leading outside. There was more activity here than any place else she had beheld. Gathering her courage she searched for a way down and finally found a narrow spiraling stair at the far end of the balcony walk. She walked along the wall, in the shadow of the overhang, shielded behind columns as wide as trees. No one took notice of her.

She was rather proud of her stealth. She supposed it came by association with the dark assassin. He had been fanatical about traveling quiet and unseen. Thinking of him brought on a twinge of pain at his betrayal and for good measure she muttered a few unsavory curses and dire predictions towards him.

Of course moving unawares did nothing to test the truth of Azeral’s words.

So she stepped out into the light and purposefully strode up the remaining length of hall to the great doors. The ogres stiffened at her approach, tiny eyes narrowing. They did not move to bar her way to the closed doors. She doubted she could have opened even one of them on her own though. So she put her hands on her hips and stared into the face of the ogre on the right. It was a hideous pig-like face and she had to control the wince from marring her own.

“Open the door. I wish to go out,” she commanded imperiously. The ogres stared at her mutely, unmoving.

After a moment she ground her teeth and said. “Am I speaking too quickly? I said to open the door.” She spoke each word clearly and slowly so there might be no misunderstanding. They blinked at her, then at each other and made no other move. She let out a breath of frustration and moved forward to attempt the feat herself. She had barely touched fingers to the massive ring on the right door when the ogre guarding that portal reached out an arm the size of her body and used it to bar the door.

“No go out,” it rumbled at her. For a moment she continued to tug on the unyielding door in desperate determination, then slowly let her fingers slide from the ring. So she had found the limits of her freedom. It stopped at the doorway to the outside world.

She stepped back, holding her head high. No small amount of attention had been drawn to the scene from about the hall. Servants stared with little hesitation as they went about their way. Victoria swallowed, turning on her heel. There was a need to cry that she controlled with effort.

A soft sniggering reached her from the left. She clenched her teeth and glared at the offending sound. A small group of spriggans loitered in the shadows of the outside wall. Leave it to a spriggan to make fun of her failure. Nasty creatures.

She was about to walk on, stoically ignoring them, when the familiarity of one struck her. Bashru. She was surprised that his features had stuck in her mind strongly enough for her to distinguish him from his fellows, but she was certain that it was him. She hesitated, suddenly contemplative. Bashru’s loyalty, she was certain, centered mostly around himself, even though he was a minion of Azeral.

As long as it did not endanger him, the spriggan might be persuaded to be of service.

She changed direction and walked towards the motley collection of creatures. There was a certain irony that it was she approaching them, when weeks ago, she might have run screaming at the mere sight of one. As it was, they appeared suddenly wary at her attention.

Bashru in particular eyed her with seething suspicion. She stopped far enough away so that the combined odor of a handful of spriggans did not offend her quite so harshly.

“Wha’da you want?” Bashru snarled, hunching his shoulders almost even with his ears.

“A moment of your time,” she informed him. The other spriggans twitched uncomfortably, muttering under their collective breaths.

“Don’t have time for you,” Bashru declared importantly, as if he had pressing matters to attend.

Victoria sighed. “Just a moment, please. I’ll not keep you long. Please, Bashru, I’ve need of your expertise.” It was not quite a blatant lie, but it served its purpose. The spriggans looked to Bashru with some surprise and Bashru swelled with importance.

“Well, maybe I can spare a moment,” he allowed, shuffling away from his companions. Victoria smiled and continued towards the back of the hall, the spriggan trailing behind her. When they were safely out of the range of any prying ears she slowed enough to walk beside Bashru.

“You brought Alex back here when I was lost in the forest. What did they do to him?”

The spriggan blinked up at her owlishly. “Didn’t do nothing as far as I know.”

“They must have done something,” she huffed. “Why else would he take up with that… that woman?”

Bashru leered suggestively. “Why else you think? Willin’ thighs open eyes.”

Victoria blushed. “I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe he would do this to me.”

“Don’t surprise me. Sidhe got the ways of enthralling folk. Just look at you panting after the assassin.”

Victoria gasped and spun on the little man. If she’d had power she would have brought it down upon him. “I’m doing no such thing. How dare you? I hate that betrayer.”

Bashru smirked, shrugging. “Oh. My mistake, lady.” But he did not look sorry at all. It infuriated her.

“It most certainly is. Panting… ohhh. Listen, you little miscreant, what I really want of you is this… can you help me find Alex? I need to talk with him.”

The spriggan shrugged. “So talk.”

“I don’t know where he is. No one will speak with me here. They all look at me as if I’m going to bring the ceiling down on their heads.”

“Can’t imagine why they’d think that.”

She glared at him. “Do you know where I can find Alex?”

“Have you tried Leanan’s rooms?”

She narrowed her eyes. “No. And I won’t.”

“Well, then how about his?”

There was a malicious glint in the spriggan’s eyes when he gave instructions on how to get to Alex Morgan’s rooms.

Victoria had doubts as to whether he were sending her where she wanted or to some dark horrible place that only a spriggan might find pleasure in.

She gathered her courage regardless and carefully followed the directions. She reached what she thought might have been the hall, but as to which door was the one she wished, she was at a loss. She dithered in the hall, wondering if she should knock on various doors to determine their occupants, then deciding that timid knocking did not fit the mood of her visit.

There were soft steps from down the hall. She breathed a sigh of relief, hoping to inquire of a resident what she needed to know. The breath caught in her throat. For it was no sidhe who approached from the flickering dimness of the long corridor. It was a figure she knew all too well. She stood mute and momentarily incapacitated at his approach. His tunic was of sky blue and of a flattering cut. His hair was longer than she remembered but exceedingly well groomed. His eyes roamed the floor before his feet and his face was carved in deep thought. He hardly noticed her at all.

She might have been a bendithy servant stepping out of his path in reverence to his station. Whatever station that might be. It brought to the surface all the frustration and anger that had fled in confusion a moment before.

“Don’t let me intrude,” she said icily.

His eyes flickered up, fixed on her with a touch of confusion, then widened with recognition.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

Not, ‘Victoria, I’m so glad to see you,’ or ‘Victoria, let me explain,’ or even, ‘Victoria, I’ve been looking for you, we have to talk.’ Just a slightly wary, ‘What are you doing here.’

“I’ve been asking myself that very question.” She lifted her chin angrily. “It seems I’ve wasted my time and energy.”

“I’ve been thinking,” he admitted, coming just a little bit closer to her. “You should see about going home. I don’t think this is the place for you.”

She opened her mouth in shock, then closed it with a snap. He was thinking about sending her home. As if she were some inconvenience to get rid of.

“What?” she asked with forced civility. “Do I cause a problem between you and that… that sidhe lady? I do hope I’ve not placed a burden upon you.”

“With Leanan?” He lifted his eyebrows in surprise. “No, not at all. I was just thinking of all the things you left behind. You must miss them. I don’t think you’ll be happy here.”

“Here? No. But there are other places where I’m perfectly content. I wish I’d never left them.” Her nails were biting into the flesh of her palms. She thought she hated him. Hated him for the placidity of his responses to her. For the considerate way he was thinking of her well being, when she was wishing him innumerable pains and indignities.

“How long,” she whispered through her teeth, “did it take you to forget me?”

He blinked at her as if she’d asked a most peculiar question.

“But I haven’t forgotten you,” he argued and that did it.

She snapped. She slapped him. He took a reflexive step backwards, bringing one hand to his cheek. There was blank surprise on his face. “You son of a bitch. How long did it take you to fall in that slut’s bed? I trusted you!”

He was staring at her, dumbfounded, as if he really did not conceive the hurt he had dealt her.

“Can you really blame him?” The voice slithered out of the shadows of the corridor like a venomous snake. The sinuous form that followed it fanned the fires of Victoria’s rage. Leanan. Golden and graceful and utterly despicable. “What had you to offer him but your frail, mundane humanity. Mortality. You’ll wither and wrinkle and die, my dear little human girl. I’ll be like this for eternity and I can give him eternity to share with me. What can you really give him?”

Victoria clenched and unclenched fists. She wanted the power so bad that she could feel it straining in sympathy at the web of restraint Azeral had woven around her. Alex was looking at Leanan as if she were the center of his universe. The sidhe woman touched fingertips to the faint red mark where Victoria’s palm at struck. It vanished.

“Better, my dear?” Leanan asked.

Alex nodded. Victoria did not scream. She bit her lip and whirled, unable to take one second more. She fled down the hall, up the first flight of steps she came to. She came to a sidhe couple strolling down a wide corridor. They stared at her with perverse curiosity until she bounded to a stop before them and demanded, “Where is Azeral? I need to see Azeral.”