The Pages of the Mind (14 page)

Apparently satisfied that he'd won the argument, Nakoa stood and went to the doors, opening them to admit a smiling Inoa and her entourage of ladies, bearing food and likely more healing supplies. One of them carried a garland like the one I wore, only fresh. Nakoa took it from her and came back to me, placing it over my head and around my neck with that same sense of ceremony. Only then did he remove the wilted one, handing it back to the same woman, who received it on upturned palms with a reverent nod. Nakoa turned back to me and held out an expectant hand. Guessing, I laid mine palm up in his and his lips curved in approval. Well-trained Dafne.

He pressed a final kiss to my inner wrist. “
Mlai
.”

The ladies all beamed and sighed, their dark eyes shining, as if they found it romantic. Nakoa said something more, then left. At last. Inoa set a tray over my lap with a few murmured words. It held fruit and some kind of tea. I gestured to the tea and mimicked yawning. She shook her head. “
Ayh
.” Then used her fingers to make her eyes look wide and alert. Good enough. And at least I knew their word for “no.”

Much good may it do me with the dragon king.

A large raptor dropped a bag on the balcony and landed on the rail. Zynda shimmered into human form and picked up the bag again. She and Jepp had a brief, quiet conversation, then came over to the bed, where the ladies were delicately unwinding my bandages.

“How are you feeling?” Zynda asked, her eyes deep blue with concern.

“Much better. I don't know if I can walk yet, but my feet don't hurt nearly as much.”

Jepp and Zynda moved to where they could see as the ladies unveiled my wounds. “Oh, yeah.” Jepp nodded. “Not nearly so raw. Scabbed up in places. The blisters all popped and are nicely pink, healing up. You can probably put your weight on them in another couple of days.”

It sounded like forever. “Days?”

Jepp gave me a rueful shrug. “Feet are hard—all you can do is stay off of them.”

I couldn't stay here for days. With every passing hour, it felt as if my chances of getting back to the ship and escaping the island slipped away like sand eaten by the tide. If I knew why Nakoa had fixed on me, I could find a way to talk him out of his certainty that I had to stay. All I knew was it had to do with that ritual on the volcano. “Any sign of the dragon?”

“No,” Zynda drew out the word thoughtfully. “And I flew around quite a bit looking for it. Could it have gone back to sleep? The volcano seems to be quieter, too.”

“Hmm.” We all fell briefly silent, contemplating the import of that. No one wanting to broach the obvious issues we needed to discuss.

“I guess we didn't sail out on the morning tide, huh?” I finally said.

Zynda grimaced. “The supplies have been unloaded, but your King of the Volcano and his people won't answer Kral's attempts to inquire about or see you. We're going to have to carry you out and I'm afraid we'll need the Dasnarians to do it.”

“At least Kral is trying.” It reassured me on one level, as I hadn't been at all sure of Kral's loyalties. Or agenda.

“Not nearly hard enough,” Jepp replied. “Not yet. But I'm working on him. He knows at least some of their language. It will be up to him to insist on getting you out of here.”

“It might not be possible.”

“Why not?” she demanded. “What happened between you and Na—him?”

Inoa looked between us, brow gently wrinkled for the tone of our words. She patted the top of my foot and gave me a bright smile with it. Clearly she thought they were healing well, too.

“Thank you,” I told her, putting my hands over my heart. She nodded back, pleased, then set her ladies to cleaning the chamber and various other tasks. “Keep your tone of voice as light as you can and smile, as if we're talking about how happy we are,” I told Jepp and Zynda. “Here's what I think is going on. Taking an educated guess, I'm now engaged or possibly married to the volcano king. Keep smiling, please.”

Jepp plastered on a fake grin and cursed through her teeth. “Danu take the bastard!” She singsonged, and Zynda burst out laughing, which at least helped with the whole pretending-to-be-happy façade.

“You are terrible at this,” she told Jepp, then set the bag on the bed and climbed on. “I brought your hairbrush, your writing things, and a change of your lightest clothes. Tell me more.”

Gratefully, I took the brush and at least set order to my hair. It didn't take much and I felt better. “As I said, I'm guessing from what we observed and what the volcano king tried to convey to me. But he seemed to be saying that he and I are connected and that I'm not going anywhere.”

“Then he doesn't know what he's up against!” Jepp did a better job of sounding reassuring instead of darkly pissed.

“We can't fight them, even if Kral threw in with us, which I don't think he'd do.”

“Then we break you out by stealth,” Zynda promised, making it sound like she offered to take me on a picnic.

“Yes,” Jepp agreed. “I'll talk to Kral and go from there. Whether he agrees or not, we'll get you out of here and onto the ship. This place is hardly a fortress. You lie still and build up your strength. We'll take turns staying with you, and tonight—tomorrow night at the latest, as Kral is anxious to go—we'll act. Don't worry.”

“All right,” I said. I expected to feel a sense of relief. If anyone could spirit me out of this mess, Jepp and Zynda could. Oddly, though, I mostly felt a sense of loss. I couldn't possibly stay here. I'd be failing in the mission Ursula had entrusted to me and desperately needed me to succeed in. Also, I'd be facing an even worse exile than I'd already lived, with people even farther from being family to me.

More than any of that, I could not be Nakoa's wife or concubine or whatever he had in mind. Those sensual smiles and kisses left little doubt of his plans for me. I had not come this far to become the bed slave I'd so thoughtlessly teased Jepp about bungling herself into.

“Don't worry,” Jepp repeated, more reassuring now. “We'll take care of you.”

“I know. Thank you.” I had to stop myself from laying my hands over my heart.

12

I
spent what remained of the day doing as Jepp ordered—lying in bed. Inoa, my constant companion, made sure I always had food and drink at hand. I tried not to think of her as my jailer. She was kind and helpful, even gathering the ladies to help me hang over a chamber pot. They giggled and I blushed, but the relief was so great I nearly didn't care.

The few occasions I painfully barked my feet confirmed I'd be going nowhere under my own power. I didn't think Nakoa had planned this to ensure my captivity—he'd seemed to be trying to convey genuine regret—but the injury had me effectively trapped, which I tried not to dwell on overmuch, as I could do nothing about it.

Inoa and her ladies helped me undress so I could sit on the edge of the bed and give myself a sponge bath, then assisted me into new clothes. Not the ones Zynda brought, but a filmy gown like theirs—which felt good in the afternoon heat but had no place to hide my little daggers. Inoa found them, of course. She didn't take them away as I expected. Instead she laid them in a neat line on the tiled table beside me, even the ones she dug out of the stockings rolled in the pocket of yesterday's gown. Shaking out the socks, she considered them with bemusement until I pantomimed pulling them over my feet. Her eyes widened in astonishment and she nodded in understanding, giving me the distinct impression she'd decided I needed them to shore up my poor, weak feet.

Sitting, she poised a foot over the opening, looking to me for permission. Why not? I waved at her to go ahead, and, with more giggles, she pulled them on. I showed her how to tie the ribbons at the top to hold them up and she pranced around, holding her sheer skirts above her knees, the heavy knit of the stockings a marked contrast. Then the other ladies all had to try them, laughing and talking. I taught them my word for the stockings and they eagerly joined in the game, giving me the names for various objects.

I memorized as much as I could, writing the words in my journal, spelling them phonetically, though I quickly ran out of ink in my pen's tiny reserve. Zynda offered to go to the ship to restore my supply, but Inoa caught the tenor of our conversation, sent one of her ladies running, and presented me with a lovely blue-glass bottle full of a gorgeous thick ink that retained a black gleam on the page even when dry. The lady also brought extra sheets of paper, of some of the finest quality I'd ever seen—both thin and surprisingly sturdy.

At least they understood about books, ink, and writing. If Kral's diplomacy and Jepp's strategy failed to free me, I'd have that much.

The ladies took my clothes and stockings away, demonstrating that they'd be washed. As the sun declined to evening, they changed me again, this time into a much grander dress, in shimmering shades of copper. For the first time all day, Inoa abandoned me and left me to her ladies, who set to fixing me up, using my hairbrush after thoughtful inspection and adding colored ointment to my lips, cheeks and eyelids. Jepp arrived as they fussed over me, wearing her dress uniform, confirming that we'd be attending the feast that had been canceled the night before due to my injuries.

“They're setting up for a major event,” Jepp told us. “Kral says he's never seen them do anything on this scale.”

“Does he know why?” I asked.

“No, but we can all guess. Be prepared for anything, is my best advice.”

“I'd best go change, then,” Zynda said. “I'll meet you there.”

“If you can shape-shift back to a fully dressed person, why can't you change clothes the same way?” Jepp asked.

Zynda looked a bit surprised. “I never thought about it. I always just shift back to whatever I was wearing originally.”

“If
I
could shape-shift, that's the first thing I'd want to learn. Practical.” Jepp was keeping things lighthearted, but she clearly worried about the evening's events. Distracting all of us with her poking at Zynda. “Besides supersenses, of course. Hey! Maybe you could create extra weapons, too.”

Zynda laughed, as Jepp wanted, and shook her head. “I'll work on it.”

“Speaking of weapons”—Jepp eyed the array of little daggers on the table—“I brought your knife.
Which
you should have been wearing yesterday.” Inoa watched but did not interfere as Jepp fitted a lovely belt over my gown, adjusting it so the sheath draped at my hip, the ruby glinting.

“This isn't mine.” I traced the lovely gold-worked leather, set with small jewels.

“No.” Jepp sounded gruff, even for her. “It's mine. Rather, it was my mother's, but it's yours now.”

“Jepp, I can't take this. What if—”

“Especially what if,” she replied. “You'll keep it and, more important, you'll wear it. Besides, it was always too fancy for me.”

And yet she'd carried it with her, one of the precious few belongings she could bring on her journeys, along with the weight of Branlian whiskey. Jepp always seemed so brashly confident and unsentimental. Keeping something like this was not what I would have expected of her.

“Thank you.” I felt unexpectedly weepy at the gift—and afraid of its import. “Any news?”

She shook her head. “Lunkhead wants to see what happens tonight, as he's not at all convinced the volcano king means to keep you here. However, he also plans to set sail in the morning, barring anything to interfere with that, so . . .”

So, be ready for anything. All right, then.

Not long after Inoa and her ladies finished primping me, Nakoa arrived. No surprise there. He stepped into the room, carrying a fresh garland of flowers, and bowed to me with his hands folded in front of his heart. Still bare chested and barefoot, he'd traded his scaled armor for festive-looking metal armbands made of copper that matched his torque and my gown, also figured to look like twining dragons. Naturally. He wore a pleated skirt of the same hue. It should have seemed odd for a man to wear such a garment, but it somehow made him look that much more masculine. Enough to spike that desire he seemed to stir in me, though I thought I managed to disguise it behind bland disinterest.

He approached me where I sat on the edge of the bed. I wondered where he planned to sleep that night. It would be difficult for Jepp to extract me, if he wanted to sleep in his own bed. Or sit and watch me again. No doubt she had a plan and would let me know what to do.

Nakoa said my name and replaced the flower garland around my neck as he'd done that morning, then indicated that he'd pick me up. I frowned and shook my head. I'd had enough of that. I indicated a chair. “
Ayh
, Nakoa. Why can't I sit in a chair and be carried that way?” I tried to demonstrate with gestures.

He frowned back. “
Ayh
, Dafne.” Despite his obvious negation, I got the distinct impression that I'd amused him and he echoed me on purpose. He said something longer, gesturing back and forth between us as he'd done before.

“My take is no one carries you but him,” Jepp offered, not at all helpfully.

“So I gather also.” I folded my arms and scowled at Nakoa, who returned the look implacably, with the air of a man who'd wait forever and still get his way.

“Just get through tonight,” Jepp soothed me. Later I would take time to reflect on the irony of our role reversal.

“Fine.” I gave Nakoa the go-ahead and he rewarded me with a small smile, taking my hand, clearly intending to kiss my wrist. I made a fist so he couldn't. “
Ayh
,” I told him.

His smile deepened, as if I'd amused him further. Keeping his hold on my wrist, he picked up one of my slim daggers from the bedside table and offered it to me with another word I recognized from the afternoon naming game with Inoa and her ladies. “Open.”

Uncertain, I opened my hand and he nodded in satisfaction that I'd understood. He laid the dagger on my palm instead, holding my gaze for a long beat, waiting for something from me. An acknowledgment, maybe, that I was not without the ability to refuse him at least that. I took a deep breath and let it out, then closed my fingers around the now-familiar heft of the hilt, inclining my head to him. Nakoa touched the scab on his throat where I'd cut him, his lips twitching in a wry grimace. I gave him my best insouciant shrug in return.

To my surprise, he laughed. A deep, musical sound, as pitched as his language. Without further ado, he carefully slid his arm under my knees and waited for me to loop mine around his neck.

“It's fascinating to watch you two communicate,” Jepp said.

“I'm glad to entertain you.”

“I'm just saying you're getting really good at it. Maybe you can talk him into letting you go after all.”

Optimism from Jepp worried me. It made me think she wasn't sure how to get me out of here, even if it wasn't a fortress. “I'll try.”

Nakoa carried me through the spacious hallways and I took advantage of the opportunity to look around, being far more clear-headed than the night before. As in Annfwn, much of the palace stood open to the tropical environment, with outdoor spaces furnished in the same way as the interior. The lovely wood floors and ceilings gave way to polished stone in the same colors outside, but otherwise the rooms were alike, with sitting and eating spaces. They spoke of people who spent time enjoying themselves and their island kingdom. Artwork—almost always animals, of all varieties—stood in niches or sometimes in the center of sitting areas.

Our small procession turned in the direction opposite of where we'd come in, toward the sea, and we emerged onto that great expanse I'd glimpsed from the hillside. Now it thronged with people seated at long tables scattered around the periphery, while others danced in a clear center area.

At the sight of Nakoa, the music and dancing stopped, the seated people standing up, and everyone turned to face us, sending up a soaring song of welcome and joy, by the sound of it. Nakoa held me up and out, as if displaying a prize, gazing down at me with a glow of pride and the least forbidding expression I'd seen on him yet.

“I don't like this,” Jepp muttered.

Neither did I.

Nakoa settled me in a high chair, padded with pastel cushions, and seated himself next to me. Inoa sat on my other side, radiantly happy and wearing dragon armbands that matched Nakoa's. Almost certainly his sister, then. Jepp joined Zynda, Kral, and the other Dasnarians at a table one level below us and to the side, sitting where she could keep an eye on me.

It was an elaborate celebration, indeed, and one focused on me. I ate off of a series of small plates that people brought to me, offerings of exotic, artfully created delicacies that exploded with flavor. I worried that they strained their resources to put on this feast but could hardly cause insult by refusing.

One after another, Nakoa's people performed dances and acrobatics for us. I'd seen the Dasnarian acrobats perform at Ordnung, but Nahanauns outdid them in flexibility, contorting their bodies into astonishing shapes and folding into each other to create living sculptures. A group of two dozen or so nearly naked men and women slowly assembled into one that, when complete, looked like the dragon itself, with extended bodies moving like great wings.

In the awe of the accomplishment, the extraordinary beauty and athleticism of it, I laughed and clapped my hands, forgetting myself. Nakoa looked over at me, pleased, and patted my knee, then called out something to the performers, who disassembled and bowed deeply to me, ecstatic grins on their faces. Inoa waved a hand and baskets were brought to the acrobats, a treasured reward, it seemed by their exclamations and bows of gratitude.

After that I made certain to show my enjoyment. These people had worked so hard to please me and should not suffer because of my fears or need to show Nakoa my displeasure.

Nakoa, however, paid close attention and displayed an uncanny knack for knowing which performances I loved best, rewarding those most generously.

Finally, the dances and acrobatics finished, Nakoa called Kral up to speak with him. They exchanged a version of pleasantries, Kral mostly in Dasnarian and using a few of the Nahanaun words, most of which I already knew. Nakoa clearly thanked him for the supplies and Kral told him more would be coming, which I wasn't sure Nakoa completely understood. I considered attempting to make it clear the supplies came from us, but it felt like the wrong moment, given my tenuous status. If I won my freedom, I'd attempt to convey that to Nakoa. If not . . . Well, I'd have plenty of time for that.

Jepp came up to join the conversation, earning a glare from Kral that she cheerfully ignored. “General Kral of Dasnaria and Imperial Prince of the Royal House of Konyngrr,” she saluted him, then bowed to Nakoa. “King Nakoa KauPo. I ask you to agree that Lady Dafne Mailloux will leave with us when we set sail in the morning.” She spoke in Dasnarian and used gestures to communicate her meaning, much as I had.

Nakoa stilled, sending a prickle across my skin and making me feel as if I sat next to a quiescent volcano. My volcano king, indeed. He asked Kral a sharp question, and the general, with a baleful glance at Jepp that promised retribution for cornering him like that, attempted an explanation. Halfway through it, I wanted to bury my face in my hands. How could these Dasnarians claim a protectorship of these islands and understand the language so badly? I'd been on the island less than two days and could parse enough to get that Kral had no sense that tonality altered meaning.

Stubborn arrogance on their part that spelled ill fortune for my fate.

I carefully didn't look at Nakoa so as not to draw attention to myself—though as the subject of the conversation, I didn't have much hope of that—but I sensed him growing angrier, like the heat of lava radiating from that lake of fire. Like the dragon awaking. Jepp kept her gaze trained on me, waiting for clues, and I gave her the smallest shake of my head.