Beloved (5 page)

“Well, are you coming?”

She didn’t wait for him to answer, but when she opened the door and started toward her father’s chambers, she heard his reluctant footsteps fall in behind her.

Octavion watched as Altaria pled to their father for her freedom. The king sat in a chair near the fire, barely acknowledging her presence, let alone agreeing to her demands. It wasn’t until she shifted—clothes and all—into a ferocious lion and let out a roar that shook the walls that he finally took notice. Unshaken by her transformation, he slowly turned and put his face only inches from her snarling feline teeth. He reached up and stroked her golden mane.

“My sweet daughter. You may become any creature you like, but you are still not leaving the castle.”

Altaria shifted back to her original self, her hands balled into fists at her sides. “You cannot make me stay. I will shift into a bird and fly far away from here and you will never see me again.” She stomped to the door and threw it open, slamming it against the table. Looking back over her shoulder at Octavion, she said, “You will never find her without me.”

He watched as she stepped into the hall and disappeared around the corner while her words settled into the hollow of his heart. He didn’t want to admit it, but deep down he knew she was right. Either Lydia’s spirit would return to strengthen their bond, or Kira would let down her resistance and eventually the connection they had through the Crystor would act as an invisible thread, pulling the two girls closer and closer together. It was only a matter of time before Altaria would sense which direction to go.

Octavion gently closed the door then pulled a chair to the fire. He sat directly across from his father, their knees only inches apart.

Belesgar raised his eyes to meet his son’s. “Save your breath. I will not change my mind.”

“I take it by your reaction, you knew about her gift?”

“I did.”

Octavion leaned his elbows on his thighs and let his hands dangle between his knees. “Father.” He paused for a moment, trying to choose his words wisely. “I know what you fear, that because I will leave soon, Altaria is all you will have left. I understand you want to keep her safe so you will never lose her as you have lost everyone else who’s held a place in your heart. But if you do not allow her to have her freedom now, you will lose her in a far worse way—she will hate you.”

Belesgar looked away, his attention now on the fire. “I trusted you with her safety and you returned her to me with a fractured spirit. If Lydia’s spirit were here, Altaria would not fight my decision. She would honor it.”

Octavion chuckled, in spite of the seriousness of the conversation. “You did not know her as I did. She changed into a strong, independent woman while on earth. This friendship she has with Kira is eternal. They are like sisters and nothing would keep her from searching every kingdom to find her. Do you really think Lydia would agree to be locked up in this castle while Kira is out there alone? She would lead the battle cry and force her way through every obstacle to ensure her safe return.”

The king stood and walked to the fire, stirring it with a metal rod. His shoulders rose and fell with each breath. “I will not lose her.” He turned, the emotion clear in his eyes.

Octavion stood and put his hand on his father’s shoulder. “She is strong and her gift will keep her safe.”

They held each other’s gaze for several seconds before the king finally spoke. “Tell me something. If you are to live the rest of your life in Panthera without her, why not let Kira live where she is? Why bring her back here where she is more easily hunted by our enemies?”

Octavion dropped his hand and went back to sit in the chair. His father followed and took his chair as well.

“My life in Panthera will be hard enough knowing we will never be together, but if our union is witnessed by the Elders of Lor, others will recognize her as royalty and treat her as such. I want her to have everything she needs; family, friends and security. I want her to be happy.”

“And will you tell her the truth—that your time together is short?”

Octavion leaned back in the chair and released a deep sigh. “She would spend every moment fighting it, worrying about something neither of us have control over. No. I want our last days to be happy ones, to give her memories to hold in her heart and hope that when our days in this life are over, we will have the eternities together.”
That is if she forgives me.

“What are you talking about?”

Octavion spun around to find Altaria standing in the doorway. He jumped to his feet. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to hear you’re leaving Kira to live in Panthera. What did you do, Octavion, sell your soul?” She slammed the door behind her and folded her arms, shifting her weight to one foot. “Well?”

“Your spirit was inside her. You know I took her to Panthera. It was the only way to save her life—
your
life.”

Her brow furrowed and for a brief moment it was as if she searched her mind for the memory. “That was Panthera? I thought . . . it was a dream.” She rubbed the back of her neck with her fingers and released some of the tension in her shoulders. “What was the price?”

There was no sense in sugar coating it. She deserved the truth. “My allegiance.”

“You gave up your
crown
?” Her fists flew to her hips. “And when exactly did you plan to tell me this?”

“I had no plan. It is my burden to bear, no one else’s.”

“You are the only heir to the throne, Octavion. Your decision affects all of us.” She brushed past Octavion and knelt at her father’s knee. “How could you allow this to happen? He is your son.”

“I did not give him a choice,” Octavion said. “It is my life to do with as I wish.”

Altaria sat back on her heels. “Oh, so it is okay for Octavion to have his freedom, but not me? I am nothing to this kingdom, a mere accessory, a lure to bring a strong Royal as a husband so you have more pawns to control.” She pointed to Octavion. “He is the heir, the future king, and you let him throw it all away for what?”

Belesgar leaned forward in his chair and gently took his daughter’s face in his hands. His smooth voice flowed out like sweet honey from the hive. “In the end, there is only love. Nothing else will bind us together in Lor. Not even friendship.” He dropped his hands and took her hand. A quiet calm filled the room and no one spoke. The only sound came from the crackle of the fire and the wood as it shifted from the heat.

Father
, Octavion pled.
Let her go
.

“You are not an accessory,” the king said to his daughter. “Forgive a father his weaknesses when he fears for your safety. I do not want to lose you.”

“You won’t. I will be careful.” Altaria’s eyes glimmered in the firelight.

“If I allow this, will you do as Octavion says, no questions, no hesitation?”

She nodded, then whispered, “Yes.”

He turned his focus on Octavion, but didn’t speak. Instead he shared his thoughts.
You will protect her?

With my life.

Belesgar gave Altaria’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Go find your friend. I will do what I can to bargain for her safety. Perhaps King Tyrius will agree to a treaty.”

Altaria threw her arms around the king’s neck. “Thank you Father. You will not be sorry.”

Octavion suddenly felt the weight of the world on his shoulders. Without Lydia to rein her in, Altaria was bound to get them in trouble.

For four days, Kira and Nigel rode across vast farmland that spread out as far as the eye could see. From rolling hills to the flat lands, they tried to stick to the main roads as much as possible. Nigel finally agreed to ride double so they could go faster, but not before he was sure Althros would behave. He hoped riding together would make him look less like a servant and more like her companion, which would draw less attention to them. At least that’s what she got out of another long game of charades and a peek at his meticulously drawn map of their journey.

Each time they came to a village, they’d leave the road to avoid being seen by more than the occasional field worker or fellow traveler. The days were long and hard and all four of them were exhausted and not getting enough sleep or food. Late afternoon of the fourth day, Nigel pulled Althros to a stop and dismounted outside a small fishing village. Kira figured they were due for a break before leaving the road, making their way around the edge of the little town and finding a place to camp for the night. Instead, he led them to an outcropping of rocks where he helped Kira off the horse, took the saddle, bridle and supplies off Althros, and hid it all in a crevice of one of the rocks.

Kira brushed the trail dust from her pants and watched him intently. “What are you doing?”

Nigel put his fingertips to his mouth—
Eat
. Then he pointed to the village.

“You mean like a real meal with dishes and silverware?”

He nodded again.

“Sweet! But, what do we do with these two?” She pointed to Althros and Mahli.

Nigel made a gesture with his hand she knew meant
stay
.

Althros had already made himself at home by wandering a few feet away to take in the cool stream water. She was pretty sure he’d be fine. Mahli was a different story. The cub was still young and wild—like a rebellious teen. Even if she obeyed her command to stay, Kira was pretty sure she’d get distracted and end up getting into trouble.

Regardless of the possible consequences—drawing too much attention to them and revealing her identity—she gave her instructions to both cub and horse, then followed Nigel down the dusty road and into the village.

She expected all eyes to be on them as they walked down the center of town, but as far as she could tell, no one paid them any attention. Where Xantara was friendly and clean, Orrin’s streets were filled with men, women and children in grimy, tattered clothes. Women yelled at their children. Men bartered and fought with raised voices and fists. Several times Nigel put himself between her and whatever ruckus happened to be the closest. She was never more grateful to have him as her guardian . . . and friend.

The inn was a small shack in the middle of town with no windows and a door that hung on thick leather hinges. The wide planks used for the walls had gaps to let plenty of light into the space, making candles or lanterns unnecessary during the day. Kira covered her nose with her sleeve as the aroma coming from inside wafted across her face. If the stench was any indication of the quality of food they served, she’d be hungry again tonight.

A few moments later, Kira sat across from Nigel at a rickety wood table trying to choke down the worst stew she’d ever eaten. The meat was done to perfection—tender and juicy—but the broth tasted like someone had boiled their socks in it and the other chunks floating around in the bowl were totally unrecognizable. She picked out the pieces of meat and tried not to breathe in the steaming fumes as the spoon approached her nose. She needed the protein. The Crystor had worked its magic by making her strong and her senses sharp, but now her muscles craved nutrients.