Broken (29 page)

“I am aware, my dear. Our blood is different because we are of Royal decent. You are not. The blood must come from a commoner. As long as the blood is not from a Royal, it will satisfy his craving.” She patted Kira’s hand and smiled.

Kira sighed. “Then there’s still a problem. You see . . . when I had the power to heal, Octavion was injured and almost died. I had to cut my hand to save him and our blood mixed. I have some of his Royal blood inside me.”

Octavion came up behind Kira and put his hand on the small of her back. “She is right, Mara. I should have considered this as well.”

“You are bound? You should have told me this, Octavion.” Mara let out an exaggerated sigh, much like I’d seen her daughter do a dozen times. “Then I will have to consider another,” she said, as if she were merely picking out a pair of shoes.

She barked an order at Ussay, telling her how she wanted the new
Royal
dressed and bathed—like a commoner wouldn’t know how to dress a baby.

Kira took it as an opportunity to excuse herself—as did everyone else.

As soon as Kira exited Mara’s room, Octavion grabbed her by the arm and spun her around, gently pressing her back against the stone wall. He placed his hands on the wall, one on either side of her head and leaned close enough to make her heart flutter. His eyes were warm, yet seductive.

Kira let out a little squeal. “Octavion, what are you doing?” she whispered.

“You forgot the most important part of your instructions,” he teased.

“Oh? What did I miss?”

The corners of his mouth turned up exposing his dimples. “I promised to kiss you.”

Kira smirked at him. “I didn’t forget.
You
did.”

“Not possible. I would never forget something so important.”

He closed his eyes and leaned in for a kiss, but before he could deliver on his promise she slid down the wall and snuck out from between his arms.

She couldn’t help herself. She felt as giddy as a young school girl. She took off running toward the staircase, but only got a few steps when he appeared in front of her, lifted her so her bare feet were off the floor and pressed his lips to hers. When his eyes finally met hers he sported a mischievous grin.

“You are a tease.”

Kira laughed. “Well, don’t make me wait so long next time.”

He gently lowered her to the ground, then leaned down and whispered in her ear. “Are you ready to see your friend?”

“Try stopping me.”

Kira turned her back to him, grabbed his arms and wrapped them around her waist. “Let’s go.”

An instant later, they appeared inside the king’s sleeping chambers. His father stood at one of the windows looking out over the garden, his back toward them.

“Father,” Octavion said.

King Belesgar slowly turned. The dark circles under his eyes told Kira he hadn’t slept. He glanced over at Altaria, who lay curled up on her side. The position was all too familiar to Kira. Something was wrong.

“She will not eat,” the king said. “And she cried for most of the night.” He walked toward them, stopping in front of Kira. His once regal demeanor—demanding her respect—had succumbed to that of a worried father. She felt bad for him. After believing his daughter would eventually die, he’d finally been given hope she would recover. Now, with her refusal to eat and obvious depression, that same hope had faded.

Kira tried to curtsy, but before her knees could bend, he took her hand. “I owe you more than I will ever be able to repay. I hesitate to ask more of you, especially after the way I treated you, but I fear she needs a friend more than a father.”

“Of course,” Kira said. “I’ll do what I can.”

When Octavion and his father left to give the girls privacy, Kira became even more aware of the dreary atmosphere in the room. The only light came from three small candles burning near the bed. She went to one of the windows, opened the drapes so the natural sunlight filled the room and threw open the window. A burst of fresh air swirled around the room, immediately lifting the gloomy atmosphere.

Altaria’s eyes followed Kira’s every move, but showed no emotion. Had it only a few days since she’d been in a similar state of mind? It seemed so long ago.

Kira neared the side of the bed. As she took Altaria’s hand, Al closed her swollen, blood-shot eyes, but not before a lone tear to escaped. Kira used the cuff of her sleeve to wipe it away.

“Hey,” Kira whispered. “I thought you’d be happy to be rid of me.”

Altaria’s tough exterior and kick-butt attitude had been replaced with the fragile shell of a broken woman. There were so many times Kira wanted her to soften so they could be friends, but now she would give anything for the old Altaria to jump up and fire off an insult.

Kira helped her to sit up, then fluffed a pillow behind her back. Her body was weak from inactivity and malnutrition, but with her stronger spirit in charge, her chance of a fast recovery seemed more promising.

“Your father says you’re not eating. What’s up with that? I thought you wanted to get better.” Kira picked up a piece of bread from the tray next to the bed and offered it to her. Instead of eating it, she plucked it from Kira’s fingers and started fidgeting with it.

“Altaria, you need to eat.” Kira tried another piece, but she put her hand up to block her.

“I am sorry . . . for what I did to you,” Altaria said. “For attacking you in the canyon like I did.”

“Oh, Al. Is that what’s bothering you? You don’t need to be sorry. I’m just glad you’re all right.”

Altaria had completely mutilated the small piece of bread, spreading crumbs all over her lap and the bed linens. Another tear streamed down her cheek. “It was not Lydia who forced my spirit into you. I knew what she wanted to do and I could have stopped it, but . . . I was selfish.”

“What do you mean?”

Her bottom lip began to quiver. At first she spoke slowly, but once the words began to flow, they spilled out like a flood. “I did not want to die. I was . . . afraid. I thought if she transfered my spirit into you, I could be your kindred spirit, as with Lydia. I thought because I had more strength physically that I could be in control—that your spirit would step aside and let me . . .” She paused for a moment then looked away.

“I thought I could take over,” she finally confessed.

“Oh.” Kira didn’t know what to say. It hadn’t even crossed her mind that what happened was malicious in any way—that Altaria may have done it for any other reason than to save her life
and
Lydia’s.

“I left my kindred spirit, Kira. I abandoned her. She was all alone and must have been so afraid. And now . . .she . . .”

“What? Altaria, where’s Lydia?”

Altaria took in a staggered breath. “I cannot find her.”

“What do you mean you can’t
find
her?”

“I sense her presence, but she is so weak and will not communicate with me. We have not bonded as before. It is as if
I
am the one alone now. It is a horrible feeling. How angry she must be with me. How could I do something like that? What if she never forgives me? What if . . .”

“Wait.” Kira fought for understanding as Altaria’s words sparked a million questions. “You said you can’t find her, but then you said you can sense her presence. Which is it?”

Altaria sighed. “I am not certain. I
do
feel she is here, but there are no shared feelings, no shared memories or emotions. I try to communicate, but she gives no response. I even tried to lessen my will so she could be in control. It is as if she were dead inside me. How can that be?”

The thought made Kira sick to her stomach. How could a spirit die and a body still live on? But then, how could one body have two spirits, or survive if one decided to leave it? Obviously, understanding would not come easily.

“Al, maybe she’s just tired. Did you think of that? What if she is so worn out from keeping this body alive by herself, that she’s resting? Maybe she is letting you take over so she can get her spiritual strength back.” Kira brushed the crumbs off the bed covers and took Altaria’s hands. “I really don’t think she’s angry with you. She told me this was her idea and insisted on not taking your spirit back until we were safe. Let her rest, okay? Keep talking to her. Tell her you love her and you miss her. She’ll find you. She isn’t a quitter, you know that.”

“I hope you are right, Kira.”

Kira smiled. “I know I am. Now will you eat? Please.”

Kira held up another chunk of bread, but Altaria pushed it away.

“There is more I need to say,” Altaria said.

Kira put the bread back on the plate, knowing Altaria wouldn’t eat until she’d had her say. “Go on, then.”

Altaria took in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. Kira had never seen her nervous before and it surprised her.

“You are a strong woman,” Altaria said. “Not just spiritually, but physically as well.”

Kira looked at her with skepticism. “Um . . . thanks.”
I think
.

“The truth is, when I first entered your body I thought I would not only be in control, but that we would share our thoughts and feelings as I had with Lydia. I am so much stronger than you; I thought it would be easy. I was wrong. Not one time, Kira—not even
one time
did I in control you. Even when I fought to get out, you held strong.” The corners of her mouth turned up slightly. “Your strength surprised me.”

Altaria looked at her hands again as she twisted a white satin ribbon that had come untied from her gown. “Your mind and thoughts were unfamiliar to me, but I knew your emotions and senses. I felt what you felt. Saw what you saw and heard everything.” She raised her eyes again. “When you slept from the poison, I lay awake. When you cried out in your nightmares and suffered with fever, I held you from within. I stayed with you, even though you felt alone.”

Kira held her chest to try to slow her racing heart. Altaria had been through it all, felt everything, even those things Kira had missed because she’d been unconscious—the horrible abuse at the hands of Zerek—and she’d been there the whole time.

Her warrior mentality must have been crushed when she discovered she was powerless to help Kira fight her captors. She’d been there when her own sister tortured Kira and left her to die. It was hard enough to deal with the fact that she’d been forced to endure the pain herself, but to know Altaria experienced it as well made Kira’s heart ache.

“I’m sorry,” Kira said. “I had no idea.”

“Do not be sorry. As difficult as it was to see you suffer and not be able to help, I am grateful for being with you. My only regret is for not being stronger. You cannot imagine how difficult it was to not transform your body as I did mine. With my help, we could have taken them on and won.”

Kira smiled. “You’re right. We would have kicked butt.”

Altaria returned the smile, but only for an instant. Then pity crept into her eyes. “I am sorry for your loss, Kira. I gave little thought to bearing children until I felt your pain and ventured out into the stormy night with you.”

She paused for a moment, put her hand on Kira’s shoulder and then said something that surprised Kira, especially that it came from Altaria.

“Even with Cade’s pleading . . .
I
would have jumped.”

The sudden surge of emotions sent both of them to seek the comfort of each other’s embrace. They were more than friends now, they were sisters. Even though they hadn’t shared their thoughts, their spirits had bonded. That connection brought something to their relationship they would have with no other—not even Lydia.

After filling their bellies, they spent most of the day talking about Lydia, the friendship they had and how much they missed her. Both had ideas about how to bring her back, but nothing they tried worked. Altaria even tried sharing her memories with Kira, like they had in Octavion’s lair on the mountain, but nothing would come.

Yet still the Crystor lay dormant, useless on Kira’s wrist.

Late in the afternoon, the king brought more food. Altaria ate a large portion and took several swigs of some vile potion Octavion dreamed up to help her regain her strength. As more time passed, the old Altaria began to shine forth. When Kira asked her if she’d like to take a bath, Altaria fired orders at Octavion to haul up the water like she ruled as queen of the castle. He obeyed as any loyal servant would and even managed to sneak Kira a wink now and then. When he’d brought in the last bucket, he scooped his sister into his arms and lowered her into the water much like he had with Kira, only Altaria didn’t complain or seem surprised.

As the shadows of evening began to cool the air, Kira closed the window, drew the curtains and relit the candles. She brushed out Altaria’s hair and with her wrapped hand, failed miserably at braiding it. Altaria snuggled under the covers and within seconds fell sound asleep. That, however, caused a problem. Kira was locked in the king’s chambers with no way to communicate with Octavion. She didn’t want to wake Altaria to send her thoughts, so she was stuck.

Ussay was right about the chill. Kira thought closing the window would help warm the space, but as night drew near, without the heat from a fire, it quickly grew colder.

The fireplace was a massive opening at one end of the room. It was twice the size of the one in Kira’s chambers and big enough for her to walk into if she ducked her head. She tried to remember how she’d prepared the fire pit in the clearing, but without the trees of the forest to provide natural kindling, she had to improvise. On the mantle sat a small wooden box that held a long piece of steel and a stone she assumed to be flint. After peeling off sections of bark from the logs stacked near the hearth, and placing a piece of parchment she’d found on a nearby desk underneath it, she struck the stone. It took several times before the spark hit the paper and ignited the shreds of bark, but as soon as it caught, the logs followed suit and began to give some warmth to the room.