Sleeper Of The Wildwood Fugue (Book 7) (13 page)

Luke glances at Wayland, who is back to polishing his rings and talking to his sons about the manor defenses. Letting out a tired sigh, the half-elf puts his hands in his pockets and trudges after Kira. The sparkle in Sari’s eyes makes him even more nervous about what he is walking into. He stops himself from chuckling at the brief thought that Dariana would be able to put him to sleep and save him from this meeting. Though he quickly realizes she could also be convinced to put Sari and Kira in his head to continue the fight.

“I can’t win here,” he mutters under his breath.

*****

The room is comfortably warm due to the sunlight passing through the glass dome that acts as a ceiling. Tropical plants cover the edge of the room, which has soft grass growing out of the spongy floor. A gentle rain falls out of the ceiling and onto the foliage, giving the air a crisp freshness that invigorates the wildlife. Peacocks and peahens strut around the room, the males brandishing their colorful plumage when Kira arrives with her guests. An albino peacock stands by a low table and hops into the heiress’s lap when she sits on the lush grass. A gracious wave of her hand is all she does to get Sari and Luke to join her on the floor. With a cordial cough, she redirects her fiancée to sit at the head of the table, placing him between the two women.

“I didn’t realize the peacock room would have actual peacocks,” Sari admits, reaching out to a nearby bird. The animal pecks at her fingers and disappears into the surrounding plants. “This place seems kind of restrictive for them. Poor things must miss flying in the fresh air.”

“There are hatches in the walls that they use to get into the outside garden. Our peacocks are trained to stay within the manor grounds. You would have seen them already if you were awake when my father’s men brought you here,” Kira replies as she strokes the ivory feathers of the beautiful bird in her lap. She reaches out to pour a cup of coffee for the gypsy and slides it across the table. “So we finally meet, Sari. I can say that I’m not disappointed in your beauty. I’ve also heard stories of your victories and public displays with Luke.”

“Thank you. You’re more gorgeous and elegant than I expected,” the gypsy replies with a genuine smile. She takes a sip of the strong drink, which makes her shudder. “Luke and I have been trying to keep things platonic lately. Knowing that we were coming to Bor’daruk, we thought it best to tone it down until we speak with you.”

“Am I supposed to say something during this meeting?” Luke asks as he unstraps his sabers and places them on the grass.

“You can say whatever you want, lover,” Kira replies, emphasizing the last word. She takes a sip of coffee and passes the drink to the half-elf, making sure he notices the lipstick marks on the edge. “This is going to be awkward. Traditionally, we discuss this prior to the interested parties doing whatever it is they wish to do. I’m assuming you’ve done everything with Luke that I’ve done, so this is going to be more of a . . . review.”

A large, stone tray is placed in the middle of the table and the smell of fresh food permeates the air. Bowls of insects and seeds are set around the room while a Dwarven maid releases several snakes into the plants. Luke keeps his sound sight on the serpents, one of which is pounced on by a pair of peacocks. He turns his attention back to the meal, which consists of hollowed out bread pockets and a wide variety of fillings. Kira is already finishing up a combination of beans, spiced lamb, and diced tomatoes. Glancing at Sari, the half-elf fills a bread pocket with a tan paste and what he guesses is shredded chicken. The gypsy settles for chopped nuts in honey combined with a dark, juicy meat.

“What is this?” Luke asks, swallowing the flavorful and thick food. “I think I made a bad combination.”

“Whatever I did tastes pretty good,” Sari gloats while licking honey off her fingers. “It’s sweet with a strange numbing sensation.”

“You mixed honey, walnuts, and large scorpion meat,” Kira tells the gypsy, dipping some bread into the tan paste. She savors the bite, her stomach still rumbling after a morning of practicing and checking the manor defenses. “Luke took the chickpea dip and mixed it with spiced chicken. I probably should have told you that this stuff is for dipping. Finish that and try combining the cinnamon rice, sweet pickles, and scorpion meat. I find that mixture is sweet, spicy, and tickles your tongue.”

“Scorpion,” Sari repeats as if the word finally registers in her mind.

The heiress makes a sandwich of the dark meat and a crunchy, green vegetable. “It’s a common dish in Bor’daruk. If you wish, you can leave in search of something else. That would forfeit your claim on Luke since our review has begun.”

“You’re playing dirty, Grasdon.”

“This isn’t even close to dirty.”

“I can be mean too.”

“Why would you do that if you already expect to lose?” Kira asks, flashing a smile of victory. Placing the albino peacock next to her, the brown-skinned woman leans over the table to get a better look at the fire in her rival’s eyes. “For a while, I was under the impression that you were using Luke to make yourself feel like you weren’t alone. It helped Luke because he wanted to abide by my traditions and you entered his life with no strings attached. Now it appears the situation has changed and you don’t want to lose.”

“This is what I was afraid of,” Luke groans, grimacing at the strong coffee.

“Let’s focus on you a bit here,” Kira states in an angry voice. Her pet hurries to a bowl of food, the bird keeping an eye on its master. “How much do you love Sari? I can’t say I’m surprised that she fell for you, but I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been worried since our time in Gaia. I didn’t think much of it at the time since she was in a magical slumber. Now that she’s awake, are you more in love with her than you are with me?”

“No!” Luke quickly snaps, seeing the hurt on Sari’s face. “I . . . I can’t say I love one of you more than the other. You’re both special to me and I can see myself spending the rest of my life with either one of you.”

“Well we can’t share you,” Sari points out with an edge to her voice. She takes a big bite of her food and exaggerates her chewing in an attempt to take the wind out of her rival’s pompous sails. “Kira is right. I let this go too far, but I’m not going to be the one to back out. How did it get to be this big of a mess when I thought we were being careful?”

“Because Kira wasn’t around.”

The heiress jumps to her feet and smacks Luke across the face, which causes Sari to stand and slap the black-haired woman. The peacocks shriek at the palpable tension in the air and the rain gushes out of the ceiling. Sari has the water coil around Kira, who nervously waits for the angry gypsy to change the liquid into something dangerous. She is surprised when Luke pushes his way into the watery trap and faces the blue-haired champion. With a grunt of annoyance, the blue-haired girl turns the water into vapor and pushes it to the sides of the room.

“I’m sorry,” Luke tells Kira without turning around. A few tears escape his eyes, which he feels Sari magically erase from his cheeks. “I didn’t mean to point a finger at you, but you not being around is part of the problem. Sari and I have had time to mature our relationship while you and I haven’t had that luxury. This is the first time in months we’ve been together where I wasn’t depressed or injured. Our time apart puts us at a disadvantage.”

“I know,” Kira admits, returning to her seat. She smirks when the half-elf sits next to her, but she refuses to touch him. “I thought your time away would be easier if you followed Bor’darukian traditions. Instead, it’s made a mess of what should have been a beautiful long-distance romance. I should have trusted you to reject all advances while you were away. By the gods, I should have done something to remain in contact with you, but I was so busy defending us to my father that I didn’t even work on holding onto you.”

“What does your tradition say about this?” Sari asks while making another sandwich of scorpion meat. She adds some relish and what she thinks is shredded cheese, but has a strange texture. “I would say we pick a winner now, but that could still cause issues. After our business is done in Bor’daruk, Luke and I continue traveling as champions while you stay here. The only way that wouldn’t cause a major mess is if I’m the one he chooses.”

“Would you want to win out of convenience?” Kira counters with a wry smile. She sees the answer in the gypsy’s eyes, a flicker of self-loathing that she had been hoping for. “There’s no tradition to settle what we’ve created here. The dating and marriage laws were made when Bor’daruk was more isolated, so foreigners don’t easily fit into them. Luke being on the road and me being unable to follow makes it infinitely worse. All we can do is make an agreement before you leave. Still, it’s unfair that you’ve had more time with him, so I ask that Luke be with me while you are here.”

Sari scowls at the request and takes a bite of her food, slowly chewing the scorpion meat until her mouth has lost all sense of feeling. Unable to sit still, the gypsy gets to her feet and walks along the edge of the leafy plants. She pets a few peacocks that come within reach and hops over a snake that is making a break for the door. A dagger flies from her hand, but it is caught within the chain of Kira’s kusari-gama. The sickle end of the weapon impales the serpent and the heiress flicks the twitching meal to the albino peacock.

“I concede your point,” Sari says while gently fingering a blue flower. “It wouldn’t be right to call a winner when we’re finally in a position to fight on equal footing. The odds have been in my favor since I met Luke, but only because of our shared destiny. As long as he is okay with it, you get him all to yourself during our time here. Though I will not deny any advance that he makes towards me.”

“I understand,” the heiress says as she stands and takes the gypsy’s hands. “Thank you for giving me this time, Sari. I really mean it and I’ll try not to be mean about it.”

“With any luck we’ll be too busy to worry about all of this.”

“It does seem that way.”

Luke sips at his coffee and mutters, “I feel like the grand prize of a tournament here.”

“You are,” both women reply, sharing a half-hearted grin.

“Can we still finish this meal together?”

Sari eyes the door, but the thought of being distant from Luke pushes her to take a seat at the table. “Only until we’ve had our fill. I’ll keep my mouth shut if you want to touch his leg, but I do ask that you avoid real intimacy while I’m around. I’d do the same for you.”

Kira nods and goes about making a sandwich of pickles and ostrich meat. She shifts closer to Luke and lets her knee touch his, enjoying the contact that she has dreamed of for so long. Sari takes a deep breath and focuses on pouring another cup of coffee. The liquid violently swirls in her cup, calming down when Luke uses his booted foot to pat her calf. She looks up to see the apology on his lips and water gathering in the corners of his eyes. Whispering a spell, she whisks his tears away before Kira can get a close look at his face.

“Your eyes are different,” the heiress states, taken aback by the brown and gold that have replaced the green she is used to. “I like it, but how did it happen?”

“I have a few stories to tell you.”

“Allow me since I’m a much more entertaining storyteller,” Sari interrupts. She creates illusions of her and the other champions on the table. “It all started when we left for the Garden of Uli.”

*****

“How long Delvin pace?” Fizzle asks as he lounges on the edge of a bath basin. The aromatic water makes him drowsy, so he lets his head dangle on the floor side. “Fizzle very sleepy.”

“I stopped paying attention an hour ago. At least he took his armor off, so he is not making a racket,” Timoran admits, relaxing on a plush couch. He stares out the window, which overlooks a colorful garden maze. “I am hoping he calms down to take a bath. We should take advantage of such lavish quarters before we are pulled into another battle. The pillows and couches are very comfortable and I enjoy the look of the silk curtains that are around the pillars. It is also very nice that we each have a bedroom connected to this main area. Although I would have preferred that the bath be private.”

“Dark cloaks on round towers,” Fizzle says, pointing his tail at the marble pillars circling the basin. “Timoran forgot. Delvin too distracted to notice. Fizzle not care.”

“My apologies, my friend. Is that a balcony outside that window?”

“You’re attempting to get a reaction from me,” Delvin claims as he continues walking across the beautifully furnished room. He flicks the leaf of a small palm tree and turns on his heel to return to a porcelain vase of orchids. “You want me to calm down and trust that Nyx is going to be safe in the desert. You’re pointing out everything that I can take advantage of in an attempt to relax, so I’ll be ready for action. You think I should stop wasting energy and time by dwelling on the fact that Nyx is out there alone.”

“One of the things I like about you, Delvin, is that I can be subtle. As a barbarian, it is a skill I rarely get to utilize,” Timoran says with a friendly smile. When his friend turns to make another pass, he sits up and swings his legs to the floor. “Yet you are beginning to poke at my patience.”

“The woman you love isn’t alone and out of your reach!” the smaller warrior exclaims, whirling on the redheaded barbarian. Delvin freezes with his mouth open when a wave of fury flows off his friend. “I’m sorry. That was . . . unnecessary. I know you care about Nyx too and wish to help her. I overreacted and let my worry get the best of me. As you can see, I’m not myself right now.”