Pursuit: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Lillim Callina Chronicles Book 4) (16 page)

I swallowed, shutting my eyes to try and concentrate but the only thing I could think about was the feel of his fingers trailing across my skin. “I… I don’t know,” I said finally, my voice half-strangled.

“You don’t know your name?” he asked, voice suddenly softer, less annoyed.

“I… can’t remember,” I replied, reaching back and scratching my neck with my left hand. My clothes felt itchy and… unfamiliar. Wait… I’d just moved my hand. I opened my eyes and stared at my hand, only now I couldn’t move it anymore.

My eyes widened a fraction as I stared. I was wearing pink. I hated pink… didn’t I? I glanced down at the rest of my body. I was clad in a pink overcoat with lavender blossoms embroidered on it… and that was it. I blushed and felt the heat spread across my cheeks.

“Please don’t look at me like this,” I said, gripping the hem of the overcoat and pulling it down to cover myself as I scooched away from him so I wasn’t revealing quite so much skin. “I feel like I need more clothes… like a pair of pants or something.”

Masataka looked at me for a long time before smirking. “I didn’t dress you,” he said after a moment, “but you’re welcome to change into something else.”

“Okay…” I swallowed. “Do you know where my clothes are?”

“Your clothes?” he asked, confusion invading his voice. “Aren’t you wearing them?”

“I’m wearing my clothes?” I asked, running my hands over my body in a quick motion. “These don’t feel like my clothes. This doesn’t feel like something I’d wear at all.”

“Dirge, those are your clothes,” he said, sighing again. “This is the third time you’ve tried to change.”

“Dirge… is that my name?” I asked, and the words flopped out of my mouth like a dead slug. “That doesn’t seem right.”

“This isn’t working,” he called over his shoulder before turning back to me. Something buzzed in the air, like a tiny gnat speaking into his ear and he frowned. “Fine,” he said after a moment. He smiled and reached out, taking my hands in his. “Let’s try this once more.”

I looked down at my hands in his as his thumb kneaded my flesh. I swallowed and looked at him, my heart starting to hammer in my chest. “I’m really confused,” I said. “Do I know you, Masataka?”

“Yes,” he said. He placed one of my hands against his chest, and I could feel the thump, thump of his heartbeat. “I am Masataka Mawara. I have been assigned to you, Dirge Meilan. You are supposed to train me.”

“Oh, sorry,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t remember that at all.”

“It’s okay,” he replied, helping me to my feet and righting my chair before holding it for me. “Let me get you some tea.”

“Um… alright,” I said, sliding into the seat. My clothes felt foreign and scratchy pressed against the wooden chair. “Are you sure I don’t have other clothes?”

“Afraid not,” Masataka said as he picked up an antique copper teapot and poured steaming brown liquid into a tiny white porcelain cup. He picked it up by the saucer and placed it in front of me with a smile. “Drink some, you’ll feel better.”

The tea started to swirl as I stared at the cup. I picked it up with both hands, cradling it between them and watched the steam curl off the top. The scent of jasmine and mint filled my lungs as I inhaled and blew. The first sip melted over my tongue like honey, and it was like the fog in my mind burned off in the morning sun. I glanced across the table at Masataka and narrowed my eyes at him.

“So you’re Masataka Mawara,” I said, taking another sip of tea. “I’m not really impressed.”

Masataka Mawara’s eyes opened just the barest fraction of an inch in surprise before he bowed, a huge grin on his face. “Sorry, Hyas Tyee,” he said.

“How do you expect me to train someone like you?” I asked, standing and walking over to him. “You’re a royal. We don’t train royals in the fighting forces.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “My father is allowing it because I’m second in line.”

“Mitsoumi could still be killed. If that happens there won’t be an heir if you are killed too. I won’t be responsible for that,” I said, circling around him like a stalking wolf. If he wasn’t a royal, he would be a good student. Even now, I could sense his innate abilities.

“I wouldn’t worry about Mitsoumi. Diana is going to train him. We are both to be trained… so that we aren’t killed,” he said, eyes still cast downward.

“By Diana?” I asked, sliding up to him and grabbing him by the hair with my hand and forcing him to look at me. “Why her?”

“That is who he has chosen,” Masataka said. “I have chosen you.”

“Why me?” I asked, putting the tea cup down so that I wouldn’t throw it across the room. I was being chosen by the second son while Diana got the eldest? That was sort of insulting.

“Because you are the strongest in Lot,” Masataka Mawara replied.

“The rankings would disagree with you. Reality would disagree with you.” I released his hair and his head jerked forward like a bobble-head. “Go have Kain train you.”

“Kain is already teaching someone. He cannot have two trainees.”

“Lies. Both Quentin and I were trained by Diana simultaneously,” I said. “You’re a royal, go break some rules.”

“Dirge, I want you,” he said, and his eyes were so deep that I felt like I was drowning in an ocean of teal. “I’ve always only wanted you.”

That’s when he reached out, wrapped his arms around me, and pulled me close to him. Everything around me lurched to the side and bombs started going off between my ears.

“What… what are you doing?” I asked, stepping back and trying to push him off.

His body stiffened, growing wooden beneath my fingers as he looked up at me, the elation melting into rage in the space of a second.

“I almost forgot,” he said, shaking his head. “For a moment… it was almost like you were her.”

“Like I was who?” I asked as he stepped back and drummed his fingers on the wooden table’s edge. Thump. Thump. Thump.

“Like you were Dirge Meilan,” he growled and smacked his forehead with the heel of his hand.

“I’m not Dirge Meilan?” I asked, confusion welling up inside me and making me feel sick. “You said I was Dirge Meilan a minute ago.”

“You’re not,” he said. “I was just trying to pretend.” He sighed again. “Just for a moment, I wanted to pretend she was back.”

“Okay…” I replied. “What the hell is going on?”

“What’s going on is that this is all in your head while we string you up in the execution fields. What’s going on is you’re a cheap copy,” he growled, shoving me hard.

I stumbled, falling backward and smacking my head on the floor. My vision went hazy around the edges as he reached out and grabbed the overcoat with one hand, tearing it free of my body in a shriek of ripping fabric. I lay there, trying to cover myself as he turned and flung the wooden table at the wall. It smashed against the white stone and broke to a million pieces.

“Get me out of here,” he snapped. “Now!”

The scene shattered into a million billion pieces of fragmented starlight. I shut my eyes against the glare of it, but it was so bright behind my eyelids that I could feel my eyeballs melting. I shut my eyes, trying to keep the glare from overpowering me.

“It’s too bright,” I cried, but my voice came out muffled so it was more like “Mmmph.”

“So you’re awake,” my mother said, and her voice sounded strangely close to my ear. “You can’t see because the sun is right in your face.”

I tilted my head toward her and felt some of the glare ease away. I cracked one eyelid and looked through my lashes. All I could see was black dirt. Well, that was helpful.

“What the hell is going on?” I said, but again it was muffled. I screamed in frustration, balling my hands into fists.

“Don’t strain yourself, my daughter,” my father said from my other side, his voice raw and strained. I craned my head toward him, but it was too bright.

“She better damn well strain herself!” my mother snapped. “Lillim, we need to get out of here before the rituals begin. Once those idiots get up here with their stone knives and canopic jars, we’re pretty much screwed.”

“Diana… we’re bound to a totem pole, and we shouldn’t use our magic in the killing fields. It’s why Masataka has brought us here,” my father said, weariness etched into his voice. They’d clearly had this conversation already.

“I’m tired of hearing you say that, Sabastin. You are a Hyas Tyee, act like one,” she snapped. “Lillim, you know how the bindings in the killing fields work, right?”

I nodded because whatever was in my mouth was keeping me from speaking. The killing fields were designed to draw out a Dioscuri’s life force. Typically, Dioscuri were chained to a huge wooden post in the center of the fields. Then, the more magic a Dioscuri used trying to free himself, the faster the totems would suck the life out of him.

“All things have limits,” my mom said. “We’re three pretty powerful people. Maybe if we all unleash our magic at once, we can disrupt the bonds and escape.”

“What you’re saying is impossible, Diana. We’ve gone over this before. All we would do is hasten our deaths,” my father replied.

“We have to try something, Sabastin!” my mother snarled. “We can’t just sit out here and wait to die.”

“Someone will come save us,” Sabastin said, but he didn’t sound very hopeful.

“No one is coming, Sabastin. Everyone is in the dungeon, dead, or hiding. If we are going to get free of these chains, we need to do it ourselves.” My mother reached out and grabbed my hand as she spoke, and the feel of her was strange, like a slowly cooling piece of steak.

“Okay, Diana… let’s try,” my father murmured. “I love you.” He seized my hand a moment later. “Lillim, I love you too.”

“I love you both, too,” my mom said and with those words I felt a blush spread across my cheeks as they squeezed my hands simultaneously.

Their power flared then, igniting next to me like twin solar flares. The sky above us crackled, thunder booming like a cosmic bowling alley. The glare that had been assaulting me the entire time vanished, and I opened my eyes. Storm clouds roiled above us and lightning flashed across the sky.

My mother was battered and bruised, blood seeping from a huge cut above her left eye. It slid down her face, collecting at her chin and dripping off to spatter on the ground. Her eyes were shut in concentration as her power leapt up and up and up.

My father grunted, and I swung my head toward him. His skin was glowing with silver-blue energy. It licked across his skin like churning steam.

I swallowed, shutting my eyes, and instead of flaring my power out like my parents, which may have had something to do with me not knowing how, I let go. I exhaled, releasing my magic along with the breath. It flowed out of me like warm rain cascading down my back and into my parents.

They gasped in unison, hands squeezing mine even harder. My eyes opened as a flash of lightning tore the sky asunder, ripping the horizon into a thousand shades of twilight.

Behind that sky, purple energy pulsed, breathing in the space like a living thing. The smell of maple leaves and roses filled the air as a giant lavender eye popped into existence in front of us. The iris went pinprick small in an instant as though it had suddenly been exposed to bright light. My father gasped. His power surged like a rocket breaking free of the ground and surging into the sky above.

“Dyeus… you’re here,” my father murmured, his voice filled with awe.

“Sabastin,” it said and its voice was a thousand swirling tornados whipping through the air. “Why have you called me forth?”

My father blinked once and his hand tightened around mine. “Sky Father, my family is in trouble. We need your help to get free. We need your help to break our bonds.”

Dyeus seemed to consider this, and as he did so, lightning flicked through the air, striking the ground around us and turning the sand to molten glass.

“Sabastin, raise Storm Heart to the sky. Call me forth and I shall aid you.” Dyeus spoke, and it was a hurricane given voice.

My father tensed next to me, currents of electricity arcing through his hair as he raised our hands as much as he could.

“Storm Heart has been taken, but I raise my family Dyeus. They are my strength,” my father said, and despite my situation, I felt a blush spread across my cheeks.

Laughter echoed across the killing plains like the calm before a storm. Then thunder boomed, cracking across the sky as lightning snapped through the air. It struck the totem, and the wood grew so hot on my back, I screamed.

The totem shattered into a billion arcs of blue-white electricity, and the three of us tumbled to the dirt. The bindings around our bodies smoked and writhed like serpents, coiling around us in an instant and cinching us together.

“What is this?” the voice of the wind sang in my ears, reminding me of morning dew and springtime. I spun my head toward it, and my jaw very nearly dropped and hit the floor.

A feathered serpent the size of Godzilla stood there preening itself with its golden beak like an exotic bird. Feathers all the colors of the rainbow glittered on its body like effervescent gemstones. Its body coiled ever upward, looming over us in the storm-hewn sky, giant head cocked toward my mother. Its black eyes glinted as its head snaked downward and nuzzled my mother like a huge cat.

“What is this, Diana Cortez?” it asked, revealing a mouthful of jagged man-sized teeth. “Who has bound you?”

“So you’ve come out at last, Quetzalcoatl?” my mother asked, her voice half-annoyed, half-amused. “Didn’t want Dyeus to hog the spotlight?”

The serpent sulked for a moment, tongue flicking out to taste the air. “No,” it said.

Laughter rippled across the landscape as the huge eye of Dyeus glanced at Quetzalcoatl and seemed to smirk. Which I can’t even begin to describe because it was weird. I mean, how does a giant, disembodied eyeball smirk?

Quetzalcoatl flicked its enormous black tongue again, and the bindings vanished a heartbeat later. “How is that?” it boomed in a way that reminded me of a pretentious rooster.

“It’s a start,” my mother scoffed, glancing from the giant serpent to Dyeus and back again.

“Diana,” my father said, and his voice was low and chastising. “Say thank you.”