Shadow Borne (Shadows #3)

  Chapter Six

  China Doll

  The trip to the big mansion on the hill seemed to take forever and all at once not nearly long enough. I walked between a silent Juliette and a stern Aranu. I sipped my coffee and trailed a step or two behind my companions. The overall mood of our trio grew increasingly somber the closer we got to our destination and I knew each of us was slowly easing into our game faces. Juliette tended to grow quiet and thoughtful and for the most part Aranu had two sides to show the world-grim and serious. It had been at least six months since I'd even seen him crack a smile. I couldn't remember the last time I'd heard him laugh.

  As for myself, I was handling our current situation with my usual grace and aplomb-with an outward sigh and a subtle inner shoring that I doubted Juliette and Aranu were aware of. Claire and my aunt were the only two people to have ever remarked on what Aunt Ingenia had called my "brace yourself" face; Claire called it "Aries's commando mode." Both terms were accurate enough.

  Inside, I was every bit as contemplative as Juliette and sometimes even as grim as Aranu, despite the fact that it wasn't always visible from the outside. One particularly annoying emotion I was wearing, and close to my sleeve no less, was reluctance, fear. I'd been painfully obvious about putting off going back to Claire and Mark's house, though it was doubtful Aranu knew the true reason behind my procrastination this morning. I was certain Juliette knew exactly why I wasn't eager to return to the "big house."

  Around here, it was common knowledge that Mike Roberts and I used to have something going on and surely by now Julie and many of the other nymphs had noticed the way I avoided all mention of it or him.

  We rounded the slight curve in the long driveway and came to a stop in front of the packed house. There were people everywhere. Some looked ordinary, like Claire, and a few more than that were nymphs like myself and Juliette, but most looked more like Aranu-tall, broad-shouldered fighters in rugged garb that Marta would have called various stages of undress. She wouldn't exactly have been wrong. Mark's crew, the famed Warriors of the Ruins, were dressed sparsely in the way of clothing, wearing only breech cloth type garments and arm bands.

  My people, Aranu's tribe, wore coarse, brown pants made from animal skins. A few, Aranu included, also wore shirts.

  Julie shrank back a little, inching closer to Aranu when she took in the sheer size of the crowd gathered before us; soldiers and warriors and nymphs filled the front and side lawns to near capacity and there were even several people milling about on the wide front porch. I noticed a group of sprites clustered near the azalea bushes and waved at the fierce-looking women.

  "Looks like the whole gang is here," I remarked pleasantly, weaving through the crowd and up the porch steps when I spotted Claire and the kids.

  "Aunt Aries!" Ashley, at the age of almost-seven, was Claire's youngest daughter and, in recent months, the most exuberant member of the family.

  I dropped to one knee and caught the dark-haired, doe-eyed girl's flying tackle. "Hi." I grinned, kissing her soundly on both pink cheeks before peering around her to motion Sienna forward. "Come on, you might as well get it over with, Sienna. I'll have a hug and a kiss from you, too."

  Claire's oldest stood a couple of inches taller than Ashley and trudged forward with all the enthusiasm of a prisoner headed to the guillotine, but beneath the solemn facade she looked almost content and the faint beginnings of a smile lurked behind her serious, dark blue eyes. "There you go now." I laughed, and snatched her to me, still holding on to Ashley as I rocked both little girls back and forth.

  "Will you stay after the meeting?" Ashley asked, turning her small face up to mine once I'd released them and stood up to greet a tense-looking Claire.

  "Sure."

  "Good, because you have to come up to our room. I made a picture on the wall."

  "You did?" I glanced quickly at Claire.

  "Yep. With paint," the child proudly confided.

  "I made one, too," Sienna added.

  "Great. I can't wait to see them." I smiled.

  "Go and find Marta now, both of you," Claire said, attempting a smile that fell just short of convincing. "I heard she's baking cookies this morning."

  Within ten seconds, Claire and I were alone. "My God, Ari, are you okay?" She snatched me to her slightly shorter frame and held fast for a moment before holding me at arm's length for a more thorough inspection.

  "I take it you heard about the coatyl?"

  "That it broke in and almost killed you?" She nodded. "Mark told me a couple hours ago, after Aranu and the others began showing up. Are you okay?" she demanded, still checking me over.

  "I'm fine. I had it pinned to the wall before it ever got close enough to do any real harm." That was true enough, I figured, if not technically all there was to that part of the story. "They told you it spoke to me?"

  Claire nodded and glanced furtively around us before pulling me into a relatively private corner of the covered porch. "Aries, what the hell is going on around here?"

  "We're at war." I sighed. "I guess this was the next logical step in our parade of ill luck."

  "I know that, but coatyl do not talk. They aren't capable of advanced speech and complex thought processes."

  "They do now. They are now." I shook my head. "Khan and the Lahuel altered them?somehow. This changes things, Claire. And obviously not for the better."

  "I figured Kahn was the mastermind behind this disaster. It's retaliation for us taking Lydia and the guards out of commission, isn't it?"

  "For blowing Lydia and three quarters of Kahn's army sky high?" I smirked. "Yes, it seems that would be the reason he's bent on destroying us now. Not that he wasn't planning on killing every last one of us anyway, those he didn't plan on enslaving, that is, but now I get the feeling he'd like for it to be especially painful. Still," the smirk faded, "I never thought he would do something like this."

  "You didn't think he would stoop so low?" Claire was incredulous.

  "I didn't think he was capable of stooping so low," I corrected.

  "True." She wrapped her arms around her waist and gazed across the yard at some vague, far-off point in the distance. "Hey," she said abruptly, turning to face me. "A minute ago you said Kahn and the Lahuel. Why do you think the Lahuel had anything to do with this?" Claire shivered. I knew for a fact that she found the Lahuel every bit as disturbing as I did, probably more so, considering she had actually been up close and personal with the shadow demon.

  "We don't have confirmation on that intel just yet," Mark interrupted smoothly, striding to his wife's side and taking her hand. I raised a brow, a little surprised to hear Mark try to placate Claire with a reassuring lie. The Warrior of the Ruins tended to be very?protective, where his bride was concerned, but I had never known him to try and ply her complete falsehoods, until now, that is.

  Claire gazed into her husband's eyes for a long beat before her shrewd gaze swung back to me. "Aries? What's going on?"

  "I just said-" Mark tried again, looking hunted.

  "I take it you haven't told her?" I raised a brow and folded my arms across my chest. Mark didn't try to say anything more, but the resigned look in his eyes clearly said he wasn't thrilled with my interference. "We know the Lahuel is involved because I heard it straight from the coatyl's mouth."

  "And?" Claire pressed, reaching out with one hand to grip the smooth white porch rail.

  "It had been sent by the Lahuel. With orders to kill me and leave a message in my blood, something to the tune of Claire, you're next."

  Claire recoiled before turning on her husband. "You didn't think that was something I should know?" she demanded.

  "This morning Claire decided that instead of going with us to the coast, it would be best if she stayed home with Ashley and Sienna." Mark glowered at me, but behind the scowl there was a definite hint of desperation in his jewel-green eyes.

  He doesn't want her to go-no, he's terrified at the very thought. The real
ization really shouldn't have come as such a shock. Mark had loved Claire almost from day one. She was it for him. She was also the mother of their children and it made this situation?complicated, for both of them.

  There wasn't enough money in the world that would make me want to be in Claire's shoes right now, forced to walk a balancing act on the tightrope of motherhood versus country. And this was her country now. To go through such enormous life changes with all the delicacy of a boat being tossed onto the shore by a wicked sea? No, I definitely wouldn't want to be in Claire's shoes. Not that mine were all that cozy lately?

  "Well, now I don't know what I'm going to do," Claire was saying. "This changes everything."

  "But your sister is due to give birth any day now," Mark argued. "What if there are complications?"

  Claire glared at her husband. "Not helpful, Mark."

  "Fine." The lines around his mouth deepened and he put his back to us in order to pick up a loudspeaker from the patio table. "We can talk later. I've got a meeting to see to."

  An instant before I heard the footsteps, Claire's eyes widened at a point behind me. The faint hint of cologne told me who was walking across the porch even before I turned around, not that Claire's wary expression wouldn't have been a dead giveaway. The best thing, the mature thing, was to turn around and face him like an adult.

  "That's Mike behind me, isn't it?" I asked Claire, crossing my arms even tighter over my chest in a way that would have done Ashley and Sienna proud.

  "Yes. Sorry," she apologized. "That reminds me, how was your little chat last night?"

  "Oh." I shrugged, deliberately vague. "You know."

  "When Mike came back without you and went straight to bed, I figured it hadn't gone well."

  Mike stopped a good six feet away from us and asked, "Is she armed?"

  "Who?" Claire and I asked in unison.

  "Aries."

  I did face him then. "Yes, I'm armed."

  "Then I'd just as soon stay over here." He gestured to the end of the porch where he stood. "Where it's safe," he added.

  "Mike," Claire frowned, "what's with you? Everyone here this morning is armed."

  Mike raised a brow but otherwise remained silent. If he was waiting for me to announce that I'd threatened to stab him last night, then I could have told him not to hold his breath, because I had no intention of sharing my personal business with everyone on the porch.

  Beside me, Claire opened her mouth only to close it a second later without saying a word. I followed her gaze to the tall blond man making his way through the crowd gathered on the lawn in front of the house. Carl.

  "Come on," she said, at once abrupt. "It's getting a little too crowded around here," she muttered, stomping into the house.

  "Shouldn't we stick around for the speech?"

  Mark did a quick sound check on the hand-held loudspeaker, and I hesitated before following Claire into the cool privacy of the house.

  "I already know what he's going to say. The coatyl have gone mad and we're leaving for the coast in two days now instead of two weeks."

  "We are? So, you've decided to go?"

  "No. Yes. Hell, I don't know," she grumbled, taking three slow, measured deep breaths and heading across two parlors and past a powder room before leading the way down the corridor that led to the extra large, ultra sunny kitchen. "I can't believe Mark kept all this from me."

  "He seems very worried," I said, grabbing a chocolate chip cookie off a brass tray that someone, probably Marta, had placed in the center of the small table in the breakfast nook area of the kitchen.

  "Yeah." Claire snorted. "I got that. Does he think that I'm not worried? How does he expect me to deal with all of this, to make informed decisions, if he purposely withholds the facts? Answer me that," she challenged, working up to a pretty good rant. "Between him and Carl, I'm getting damn sick and tired of men lately."

  Lately? Mark, and Carl for that matter, had only been home for twelve hours. I covered a smile by biting into the cookie. "What did Carl do this morning?" I asked once I'd chewed and swallowed and regained most of my composure.

  "Nothing that I know of. Yet." Claire sighed. "This is the first time I've seen him since last night. But Carl doesn't have to do anything except breathe and he's on my bad side. I don't trust him."

  "Normally I would agree with you there, but he seems okay to me. Other than the whole used to be a hitman, tried to kill you thing." I smiled and poured two cups of coffee, handing one blue-swirled mug across the table to her before raising my own to my lips.

  "You actually trust him?"

  "Not really," I confessed. "But I get the feeling he was telling the truth last night. I don't think he's a threat."

  "He seems to like Megan." Her scowl deepened and she bit savagely into her cookie.

  "I noticed."

  "I don't like it one damn bit."

  "I noticed that, too."

  "And she actually lets him into her room."

  I wasn't surprised to hear it. By all accounts, Megan Roberts was vulnerable and scared right now. Her husband had run off and Carl had rescued her not once but twice and so to my way of thinking it would have been abnormal if she hadn't fallen for him just a little bit. Not that it wasn't weird.

  Carl's previous occupation was enough to make even the most unsuspecting person wary, and Claire possessed a more cautious nature than most. So I couldn't tell her I was pretty sure Carl genuinely cared for Megan, even though I was almost one hundred percent positive that he did.

  It was true I'd known him for less than one day-and I'd only seen him a couple of times, at that, but something about him felt genuine, real, honest. Whether or not he would turn out to be good for Megan was an entirely different matter and one which remained to be seen. Nymphs were a little more tuned in than the average person to the emotions of others and the former hitman hadn't set off any of my usual internal warning bells. But, rather than spout reassurances that would probably, to Claire at least, feel empty, I drained the last of my black coffee and said, "It'll be okay. Let's not borrow trouble."

  "Yeah," she sighed. "You're right on the money there. We've got enough right now as it is, don't we?"

  I shrugged. "It looks that way."

  "So." Claire drained her own mug and crossed the kitchen to set the dish in the wide chrome double sink and flip the light switch off before we headed out of the room. "You talked with Mike?"

  "Not really. He wanted to know what had happened around here and I filled him in on a few details that Mark and the others hadn't already told him." Then he grabbed me and I pulled a knife on him. Yeah. I decided to keep that little tidbit to myself for the time being.

  "Is that all he wanted to know?"

  "No."

  "You're not going to talk about it, are you?"

  I shook my head and my lips curved into the barest hint of a smile. "Not yet. Sorry."

  "It's okay. So, are you ready to meet Megan? The last time I checked, she was awake and I'm pretty sure I hear Marta and the girls up there." She tilted her head to the side and gestured to the floor above.

  "Sure. I've been eager to meet her."

  "Good but, ah, you should know she's not at her best right now. She's very round, and Mike was right, she cries a lot. Her eyes are constantly red, so even when you don't see her cry you know she's either just finished sobbing or about to do it again." Claire frowned as we climbed the wide, curving staircase to the second floor. "I could kick her husband. Of course, I'd have to find him first."

  I nodded sympathetically. "Some husband."

  Claire climbed the last dark wood tread and strode down the hall without bothering to flip the light switch. I followed and the sound of voices grew louder as we neared the end of the hall. She knocked briefly on the second to last door, turned the knob, and pushed it open without waiting for an answer. The room was packed.

  Marta, the longtime housekeeper who had also stood in as a moth
er figure for Mark, was busy folding a basket full of lemon-yellow sheets and stuffing them into a tall, ornately carved dresser in the corner, next to the room's single extra-large window.

  Ashley and Sienna were lying in the center of the room, on a wide, braided rug; they appeared to be engaged in a deep discussion over the large picture the two were busy coloring. A dignified older couple occupied a pair of uncomfortable-looking wingback chairs near the hearth. A cheery fire blazed in the stone depths and a set of white sheer curtains fluttered lightly in the early morning breeze that poured into the room from the open window and kept the room pleasantly cozy rather than stifling.

  A woman with shiny, white blonde hair and luminous green eyes sat in the middle of the full-size bed that occupied the corner of the room opposite the fireplace. The rumpled bed was situated flush with the wall and close enough to the enormous window for the woman to lean over and watch the coming and going of the people in the yard, had she so chosen. But it didn't look like she cared one way or the other about the masses gathered below.

  Claire's sister-and this was obviously Megan Roberts-didn't look very interested in much of anything. Her eyes were rimmed with the vivid red of grief and behind the sheen of tears, the glassy orbs were flat and empty. Claire strode to the center of the room and cleared her throat, but it was Marta who was the first to break the silence.

  "Hello, Aries." The older woman's eyes gleamed. "I see you have pants on today." She nodded approvingly and snapped the last sunshine-colored sheet into the dresser.

  The man and woman in the wingback chairs gasped and Megan Roberts started with a glance toward Mark's mother-housekeeper. A wide grin broke across my face and I threw my head back and laughed before gliding across the room and throwing my arms around Marta's sturdy shoulders.

  "Hi to you as well," I murmured, still smiling.

  "I don't suppose you've eaten breakfast?" Marta sniffed.

  "Not yet." I stepped back and bent to ruffle both girls' hair before rising to face Claire's shocked parents and sister.

  "Well, then you had better stop at the kitchen before you go back outside with the heathens."

  Claire put her hands on her hips and shook her head as Marta took the laundry basket from the top of the dresser and lured the little girls from the room with promises of cookies. "Marta is very plainspoken." Claire coughed and ducked her head to hide a smile.

  "You get used to it," I added, holding a hand out to the woman first before attempting to shake hands with Claire's father.

  "Mom, Dad, this is Aries."

  "It's wonderful to finally meet the two of you," I lied. It wasn't wonderful at all. It was nerve-racking and I wished it were already over. I felt like a bundle of raw, nervous energy when Mr. and Mrs. Roberts inclined their champagne-blond heads and regarded me in silence, completely ignoring my outstretched hand.

  I had fought side by side with both rebel factions and professional soldiers. I'd helped search out and rescue hundreds of desperate, displaced, regular people. And that's what I tried to convince myself that Claire's parents were-regular people-but they didn't seem that way at all and I was beginning to feel more than a little foolish, standing there with my hand extended to the open air, for all the attention they were paying me.

  No, that wasn't quite right, I amended, refusing to give in to the urge to cringe. They were looking at every part of me but my hand. Confused, I glanced down at myself, not seeing anything out of place, but Claire's parents'-Mike's parents'-pointed gazes were hard to miss. I gave myself another quick once-over while Claire hurried to explain that I was a close friend "more like family, really."

  And I tried to see myself objectively, as if through a stranger's eyes. It took only a few moments to realize how I must look to the elder members of the Roberts family; an almost-tall young woman with smoothly toned muscles, a dusky complexion, hips and breasts that flared to a level just shy of decent?but it was my face that truly set me apart and classified my kind as different.

  I had the same classic features that readily identified me as a nymph. The large, bright, slightly slanted eyes, the thick black lashes and thin, straight brows. The same smallish nose, and lips that took after my breasts and hips-a shade too plump to be inconspicuous, to blend in. While there wasn't anything to be done about my face and form (not that I'd ever really thought there was anything wrong with it, other than the irritation of being so recognizable) it probably would have been a good idea to unstrap my dagger before I'd entered the room. Mr. and Mrs. Roberts finally nodded and decided to grace me with faint smiles that, while they weren't exactly the epitome of warmth and goodwill, at least weren't mocking. That was a start. Pleading the worst case of jet lag imaginable, Claire's parents wandered down the hall toward their own room for a nap.

  "I'm sorry, Aries." Claire grimaced and turned with me to face her sister. "That was rude, I know. They're still getting used to?everything, I guess."

  "It's okay." I shrugged. "They're tired and it's one of those days."

  "One that makes you want to go back to bed?"

  "You said it." I smiled faintly. "Do they know about me? I mean that your brother and I were?close, once?"

  Claire shook her head and lowered her voice as we approached Megan's bed. "No. At least, I don't think so."

  Great. That was bound to be even more fun than this had been, I reflected with an inward sigh. A more na?ve woman might have made the argument that the rest of the Roberts clan wouldn't have to know anything at all about my past relationship with Mike. But who was I kidding? Mike wouldn't give up the chase so easily, and after that very public kiss on the porch last night, I felt safe in assuming he would be fairly obvious in his intentions. Idly, I wondered how Megan Roberts would react to Mike's uninvited courtship of me.

  It was hard to imagine Megan reacting to anything. At the moment, she looked pretty out of it. Claire and I stopped at the foot of the bed, perching on the edge to stare down at the quiet woman who seemed to blend in with the peach-and-linen bedroom. Not even the glow from the fire across the room in the hearth or the red eyes did much to make her look human. A doll, I realized with a start, she looks like a very sad, living doll. She was so small, well, except for her protruding stomach, and so vulnerable that my heart immediately went out to her.

  Claire's obviously did, too. She sank onto the mattress, at the head of the bed, and touched her sister's shoulder. "Megan? This is my best friend, Aries. She's come to meet you."

  Megan turned her head a little to the left, away from the window she didn't care to look out of anyway, and let her gaze rest on my face. They seemed to focus, then, widening. Her lips parted on a startled gasp and I got the distinct impression that she was truly seeing me now.

  "Hello, Megan." I smiled warmly at the woman but didn't offer to shake hands.

  "Oh! You're-" She swiveled her head to look at Claire. "She's-wow."

  "Yes, she's very pretty, isn't she?" Claire smiled.

  "She doesn't look real," Megan murmured, then flushed brightly when she realized what she had just said. "I mean, she doesn't look like us."

  "Aries is a little different, Megan."

  "She looks like the other ones. The ones who met us in the woods at the?at the?" She gulped.

  "Portal," Claire helpfully supplied. "Yes, they're woodland nymphs, too. Like Aries."

  "Oh." Megan shook her head and took a deep breath. "But she's?" Megan Roberts paused and stared directly at me then. "You're even prettier than the ones I saw yesterday. I'm so sorry. I'm being terribly rude it's just that?my life is crazy right now," she ended on a shuddering breath, and tears filled her eyes again. "This is insane, all of it." She gave a bitter little laugh and made a gesture toward the window. "All of this is?"

  "Hard to take?" I correctly guessed.

  "Yes, and-"

  "Mom!" two small, loud voices chorused from the hallway.

  "Coming!" Claire hollered back. "I'll be right back." She gave he
r sister's shoulder a quick, reassuring squeeze. Then she was gone, leaving me alone in the room with Megan.

  "You probably already know my husband left me." She sniffed.

  "The others might have mentioned something about that," I hedged, unsure of what to say next, of how much Megan felt comfortable with me knowing.

  "I guess it was for the best." She sighed, curling her arms around her middle and looking even more despondent than before, if that was possible.

  "If this place is full of women who look like you, he would have left anyway, eventually."

  "Hey, you're very pretty, too." I reached out to take her hand. "I'm sorry about your husband, by the way."

  "Which one? The cheater? Or the one that tried to kill me?" Her lower lip trembled.

  "Oh." I exhaled. "Yes, I heard about that, too."

  "Who hasn't?" She flopped back against the mountain of white linen pillows at her back. "Lately, my life is one big, tawdry open book. The murderer is an ex-husband, by the way. At least I realized my mistake early with that one and came to my senses. I divorced him. But Juan?" She sighed again. "I didn't see that coming."

  "His leaving?"

  "Yes. Although, I probably should have. He'd been different for months before we dropped the whole alternate universe ex-husband-issued-hits bombshell." Abruptly, she covered her face with her hands and began to sob. "Oh God, it even sounds crazy."

  "Not so crazy." I smiled ruefully and moved to sit beside her. With one arm slung around her shaking shoulders, I hugged her and began to smooth the tangled blonde hair away from her tear-dampened face. "There now, you've got to try and calm down. All that crying isn't good for the baby."

  "The baby. Oh God, the baby," she gasped. "What am I going to do? I've got no job, no home, no money, my husband left me."

  Releasing her, I moved to sit in the center of the bed. Facing Megan now, I took her hands in mine and forced the nearly hysterical woman to look at me. "You and the baby and the rest of your family will be fine. I swear it."

  "But my home, my-"

  I shook my head. "From what Claire has told me, Terlain is your home now. It isn't safe to go back to your world."

  "It isn't. It won't ever be again. Mike and I screwed everything up." Her lower lip quivered again and fresh tears filled her eyes, threatening to spill over onto her pale cheeks. "We ruined it for everybody with?with his exploring and m-my bad choices in men."

  "Don't think such things," I commanded, gently. "Ruminating is pointless. Trust me. Look at me, Megan. Nothing is ruined, you'll see. Terlain is a wonderful place. It's beautiful and full of magic and warmth. It's a wonderful place for a child to grow up. Usually." Parts of it. But I didn't think Megan needed me to emphasize that she and her family had landed smack in the middle of a war. If one managed to get past the danger, Terlain was a wonderful place to be. And most of us were used to a little danger, to having to be a little more careful in some spots than others.

  "Really? But what about the?fighting?"

  "We are in a war," I admitted. "Right now. But life must march on. And besides, you're safe enough here. Everything will turn out right. You'll see. When will you have your baby?"

  "Huh? Oh, um?three weeks. But it could happen anytime now. I suppose this room won't be so bad." She glanced around the large space.

  "For what?" I frowned.

  "To have the baby." Her eyes began to glisten again.

  "Well, okay." I took a deep breath. "But wouldn't you rather go into town and have your baby at the hospital?"

  Her eyes grew enormous and she sat up. "There's a hospital?"

  "Sure. That's where most women choose to deliver babies. Isn't that the usual way in your world?"

  "Yes!" She laughed a little, through the tears. "Oh, thank God. I didn't think there were hospitals here, or doctors."

  "There are," I assured her. "Claire thought Terlain was a pretty strange place when she first came here." I smiled. "I have the feeling you'll have a lot of adjustments to make. But you will make them. And you're safe now, from the people who were hunting you, anyway. You'll like it here." I nodded.

  "You really think so?" She looked skeptical, but she wasn't breaking down in tears again, at least not yet. "But what am I going to do?" she moaned.

  "Take one day at a time," I advised. "You'll have everything you need. And your new brother-in-law commands the largest army in Terlain. You're well protected here. And if you don't mind my saying so, there will be plenty of men around."

  Startled eyes flew up to mine and I grinned. "You won't be lonely for long. Unless you want to be." I shrugged. "And there's plenty of work to be found, when you feel ready to tackle that part of your life again. After the baby, of course." I smiled. "What did you do before?"

  "In my old life?" She tried out a tremulous smile.

  I nodded.

  "I worked in an office. Maybe it's?time for a change, though?"

  "Could be."

  "You make it sound so simple."

  "Never that." I held both hands out, palm up. "Although parts of it will be easy enough. But it will be an adventure. Who knows? You might even find yourself walking toward something better than all that you left behind. But you must be brave now and move forward."

  "I-I'll try."

  "Have you left this room yet today?" When she shook her head, I held out a hand to help her rise. "Maybe you'd like a shower? Then you could go and have breakfast with me."

  "I've already eaten," she protested, on her feet now but digging her heels in.

  "Then you can sit with me while I eat."

  "But-" She paused beside the window. "What's going on down there?"

  I backtracked a few steps and followed her wide-eyed gaze to the lawn below. Mark's voice carried slightly on the breeze, but as far up as we were, it was difficult to make out the words above the constant, low din of the crowd. "Mark is addressing the army-most of them, anyway."

  "There are more soldiers?"

  "Oh yes, not everyone could be here for the meeting this morning, not unless we wanted to pull everyone off of patrols."

  "Oh, well no." Megan blinked. "That wouldn't be a good idea."

  "No," I agreed.

  "They all look so different," she murmured, inching closer to the open window. "Who are they?" she asked, pointing to a cluster of tall, muscular women.

  "The women in the dark green loincloths and off-the-shoulder tops?"

  "Yes, the ones carrying the spears."

  "Woodland sprites. They live near the woods bordering Lerna, not far from my native home."

  "They're so big, for women. They look like Amazons."

  "That's what Claire said, too." I grinned, remembering the legend of the Amazon that Claire had regaled me with over popcorn one dark, stormy night several months back. "See over there?" I pointed, leaning closer to the window and catching Megan's enthusiasm for the multitude of people below. "Those are Mark's men. Yes, the shirtless ones," I confirmed at her look. "Marta calls them the naked heathens. They're called the Warriors of the Ruins. They came from the tribes near the mountain villages. After Claire and your brother and Ashley had gone, Mark thought they were dead, killed, and vowed his revenge. That's when he took to the ruins at the top of the mountain and began to form his army. And over there, the men in the animal skins, those are the Mikhalu tribal men. They don't live far from the dome, either."

  "The dome?"

  "My home. At least, where I grew up. Most of the nymphs choose never to leave the dome."

  "Oh."

  "The Mikhalu are excellent hunters and fighters," I continued. "They've spent most of their lives living outdoors and fending for themselves, so they also know the layout of the land."

  "Not all of the men are huge," Megan commented, tossing a quizzical glance to me.

  "No, they aren't. The more normal-sized people in the crowd are refugee villagers that have gathered here from all over Terlain. About half of our worl
d is made up of people like your kind."

  "What happened to their villages? The same fate as the one we passed to get here?" She frowned and continued to stare down at the people on the lawn.

  "That was the village of Lerna and yes, most of their villages were ambushed and their homes destroyed. Some of the, well, regular people, I guess you'd call them, are also native Grandview citizens who volunteer their time and train with the others."

  "Hmm." Megan nodded and her gaze picked through the crowd as though she were searching for someone in particular.

  My lips curved and I scanned the yard for a second before I spotted what I was certain she was looking for. "Carl's over there. He's leaning against the second tree from the driveway."

  "Oh." Megan blushed a deep crimson. "I wasn't-"

  "Sorry," I interrupted with a shrug. Bingo. "I thought you might have been looking for him."

  "Nope." She ducked her head, but not before sneaking a covert glance from beneath her lashes at the lean blond man. Then she took a deep breath and turned away from the window. "I think I'm ready to go downstairs now."