The Pages of the Mind (22 page)

“The time has passed,” Nakoa cut her off, stubbornly immovable, and Inoa cast me a helpless look of pleading. She didn't think so and she struck me as no fool. There must be a way to forestall the test. If the other chief brought the challenge, perhaps he could be persuaded to withdraw it. Or postpone. Which would bring me back to the same crossroads of whether to bed Nakoa—but I'd confront that choice later.

“I will help.” Impulsively, needing to get Nakoa's full attention, I transferred my grip to his neck, standing on tiptoe and leaning against him for balance as I kissed him, hard. He didn't return the kiss, still didn't put his hands on me, a question forming in his opaque expression. “I understand this,” I told him gesturing to the man who must be the challenging chief, watching us with mixed curiosity and suspicion. “This is what I do. For my queen. I will do this for you.” I really wished I'd been able to bring Akamai along to translate, but all diplomatic posing was essentially the same, right?

Nakoa made that grumble of exasperation, my sleeping dragon awaking. “Dafne
mlai
, you—”

“Is this she?” The other man, surely Chief Tane, came up, interrupting. He gave me a dubious look. “She is small for such big stories.”

I let go of Nakoa and faced the other man, ready to assess the situation.

“Queen Dafne Nakoa KauPo, Chief Tane,” Nakoa corrected, with very little intonation. Was I the only one who heard the simmering offense in it? “Your queen, to be treated with respect.”

Chief Tane grinned, not nicely, a leer in it. “Yes, mine to possess when you inevitably fail the ancestors. I won't hesitate to—” He used a euphemism that I caught only part of, but the words I did get were enough to put heat in my face and fire in my heart. I'd heard plenty of salacious terms for sex, especially traveling with the Hawks and Vervaldr—not to mention with Jepp—but this felt deliberately crude. Behind me, Nakoa rumbled in restrained fury. A volcano about to blow.

Rapidly I revised my opinion to side with Akamai. Chief Tane was of Uorsin's ilk. Full of ambition, cruelty, and raging hunger for power. Such men understood only one thing. He saw me as weak, something to taunt and use up. Never.

“I would kill myself before I let you lay a finger on me,” I sneered, liberally mixing Nahanaun and Dasnarian, trusting that he'd get the gist.

He threw back his head, laughing heartily and for show, obviously mocking me. “I would break you in half, little
cala
.”

Inoa gasped, ready to spit in her fury. A female insult then. Maybe just as well I didn't know what it meant. Glad I'd thought to hide some on me, I palmed one of my slim daggers, then made it suddenly appear. One of Jepp's tricks, to unsettle the enemy by seeming to do magic. “That is incorrect.”

The chief laughed again, but with a shade less confidence. He spoke to Nakoa, something rapid, a pitch that sounded like an insult. Notable that I hadn't heard it used before this moment. It seemed he reminded Nakoa of a promise and, reluctantly, Nakoa stepped back, stroking a hand down my arm finally, then dropping his hand. Constrained by agreement not to touch me, then. Or perhaps intervene at all.
I cannot protect you.
Chief Tane smiled, clearly believing he'd already won, and held out his hands, opening his body to me, making an apparently inviting target.

“Show me, little
cala
queen. I call you false as our former dead king.”

It chilled me, the pitch he used to refer to Nakoa, as if he were already dead. My feet burned in earnest, but I ignored them. Everybody else stood barefoot; I could toughen up, too. A thousand instructions from Ursula and Jepp raced through my mind. If only I had something of their speed and skill. I'd love to spin in and slice at him, shocking everyone as Jepp had done with the Vervaldr early on. I'd missed that demonstration, but the women of the castle had talked about it with great pride and satisfaction for days. She wouldn't be afraid to teach this bully a lesson.

Chief Tane took me for a fool, so I walked into his trap, slicing at him, making it look a little wild and desperate—not difficult to do, with my heart flapping like a captured bird against the cage of my ribs. With a malicious smile, he dodged my little blade and grabbed me. Trapping me and plastering a sloppy, disgusting kiss on the side of my face. So big.

But not as big as Harlan.

Envisioning myself back in the courtyard at Ordnung, Ursula bickering with Harlan, a grinning Jepp egging me on, I sagged, collapsing, palming a dagger in my other hand also. Tane relaxed his grip, groping my breasts and repeating that foul promise.

I burst up and out. Lashed out with both blades at once. Caught him with a shallow slice to the belly and the hilt hard up against the sweaty balls beneath his
kylte
.

The knives sang the song in my head even as I put substantial distance between me and Tane. I couldn't run away from this entirely, but I could get well away from his reach. Tane roared his outrage and fury, echoed by the shouts of the crowd, Inoa cheering wildly, a fierce glint in her eyes. Nakoa had folded his arms, standing back, ostentatiously not involved, but I thought I saw a glint of amused pride in his face before I resumed my place in front of him, ready to confront Tane.

Blood ran freely down the chief's abdomen, and he clutched his groin, white pain contorting his face. He gained his feet, flexed his hands, and started for me.

I drew my big dagger, letting the bloodred ruby catch the sunlight, and spoke in the iciest, most dismissive intonation I could manage. “Try it, and I will slice off your man jewels this time.” Only I used the crudest word I knew for it—a Dasnarian one, naturally. “Nakoa is
mlai
and you will not injure him.”

His face twisted with rage, and I braced myself. I would do it. He'd kill me, but I'd have that much satisfaction. Ursula would know that at least I went down fighting.

Tane halted his forward lunge. Not because of me, though.

The rumble of the volcano did it.

And the trumpeting call of the dragon.

20

T
he gathered crowd called out, the harmonies of reverent joy rising from thousands of throats, prickling the hairs on my arms, despite the oppressive volcanic heat.

Inoa stepped forward on a triumphant shout, finger pointed to the sky. “
Mo'o!
” she proclaimed, along with some other rapid-fire remarks that seemed related to Nakoa, the right to rule, and various negotiations. Chief Tane glowered, a man thwarted, but he did not argue with Inoa. Instead he focused on Nakoa.

“Do you fail?” he asked, insult replete in the tone. “Are you afraid to test the will of the ancestors as you vowed?”

I didn't wait for Nakoa to answer. Knowing him, he'd agree to the test despite the opportunistic arrival of the dragon. I didn't believe for a moment that it portended anything, any more than Nakoa's death via lava would mean that the ancestors had turned aside from him. Though part of it niggled at me. Ami insisted that all three goddesses had worked through the sisters to remove Uorsin from the throne, so that Ursula would kill him as part of Danu's justice, with Glorianna's loving benevolence and Moranu's healing magic, to soak the land with the king's blood and restore balance. That wasn't explainable by any logic I understood.

Perhaps the dragon's return meant something more than I believed, also.

“The will of the ancestors is clear,” I said, hoping I had all the intonations right. “There is time yet for King Nakoa KauPo to prove his right to rule.”

“He had three days and the dragon did not—”

I interrupted Tane, both to undermine his power and to prevent any seeds of doubt he might sow in the listening ears. “Does the dragon”—curse it, I had no idea if they even had a concept of a timetable, much less a word for it—“arrive at your command? Do the ancestors call for three days or is that a man's idea?”

The people murmured as Inoa threw me an approving glance. I wished I could risk a glance at Nakoa, to assess his reaction, but I couldn't afford that weakness. Nor, it seemed, could he weigh in on this discussion.

“He is no king if he is no man.” Tane grinned at me, that nasty leer in it. “Do you deny he has not . . .” Again with that vile euphemism that had Inoa sizzling with offense next to me. I put a hand on her arm to restrain her.

“King Nakoa KauPo is a great king.” I let my voice ring with conviction, pitching it with a tone Inoa had used, that of optimism and hope for the future. “He has care for all. My feet were injured.” I made it sound as bad as I could, shading it with all the storm and ill-luck tones I knew. The people near enough to hear studied my stockings, discussing them, bits of concern for the fragile, tiny foreigner drifting on the sulfurous air. “I could not . . .” I floundered, out of words to explain.

Thankfully, Inoa took over, weaving quite the tale from what I could make out, employing languid hand gestures that added to the story, amplifying the cadences she used, making it into almost a dance. She made it sound as if I'd fallen into a fever, too weak to move, sorely afflicted by my injuries, a queen so precious and delicate, her skin had never seen the sun. A sign that I was to be protected, with skin as pale as sand, scattered with flecks of fire like the sunlight burn of my hair. Along with the prettiest description of my freckles I'd ever heard, it sounded good as long as it seemed to be about someone else—and I only caught about a third of it, if that.

Still, I understood more than I might have, the movements of her hands and body lending an almost magical quality. She played to the crowd, convincing
them
—a brilliant move.

She made us sound like star-crossed lovers, separated first by cruel distance, then by one who thought the dragon and the ancestors served his orders. Never saying Tane's name, she nevertheless embroidered on my logic, making that sound absurd. Now I bravely risked relapse—see the pain on my face?—to fulfill my promise to my beloved.

She had even me convinced.

And everyone else, too. By the end of her storysong, people were crooning along, adding melodies and harmonies of celebration and good fortune. Several women rushed up, coaxing me to sit on the litter again, to save my feet. I hesitated, putting them off, risking a glance at Nakoa, who glowered indeed.

“A fine tale,” Tane agreed, trying to sound benevolent and not succeeding very well, “and I could be persuaded. But the dragon has gone again. The foreign
anâ
is beautiful, but I cannot go against what the ancestors have advised me . . .” He pitched the words with sorrowful, sincere regret.

Just like High Priest Kir, all over again. Seemed no culture was immune.

“You will see for yourself.” Taking the risk, I went to Nakoa instead of seating myself on the litter. Absolutely the more painful choice, as standing that long on the hot, sharp-edged stones had my feet aching enough that I was hard-pressed not to limp. But if Inoa had convinced them that only my injuries had prevented this dragon-taming magical consummation, then my believably promising it would happen forthwith depended on making it look like I had healed enough.

Nakoa wasn't fooled, watching me with a glint of exasperation in his eyes. “King Nakoa KauPo, will you take me home and make me your queen?”

The crowd fell silent, at least those near enough to hear. People farther back called out questions and were hushed, whispers passing back, more ripples in the pond. Nakoa narrowed his eyes at me, just slightly. Just enough to promise retribution for cornering him like that. I didn't care. We needed to get him off this mountain and back to the palace, where we could regroup and strategize. Nothing we did could persuade the dragon to do . . . whatever it was that everyone seemed excited for it to do, but Chief Tane could be dealt with in other ways.

“Nakoa.
Mlai
.” I moved closer, laid my hands on his chest, and gave him a stern glare, whispering, “No sorry, yes?”

His lips twitched, though his arms remained folded. With one last thoughtful searching of my face, he looked up and called out to the crowd. “Is this your will?” He kept it neutral, shaded with neither a happy outcome nor an unpleasant one.

The people cheered wildly and, with an ear-splitting trumpet, the dragon flew into sight from beyond the volcano, circled, fixed on us, and headed our way. Gliding on the hot air currents like a jeweled seabird, its wings outstretched an impossible length, the dragon plummeted without a sound, zooming straight for us. “Goddesses!”

Then Nakoa had me in his arms, better than an invocation of any goddess. He stood firm, even turning slightly to meet the dragon head-on. I wound my arms around his neck, missing the feel of the torque but feeling much safer. It made no sense, as the dragon could eat us both in one bite. At least Nakoa could run—that would be a logical reason for feeling reassured.

Nothing to do with the fact that just the scent and feel of his skin worked to calm my instinctive terror.

Nakoa's lips brushed my temple. “See to understand,
mlai
.”

I couldn't have torn my eyes from the sight regardless. Like a fiery golden blade cleaving the sky, the dragon grew in size, lethal, fascinating, extraordinary. Ruby flames lit its eyes, taller than Nakoa—and real flames flickered in its gaping maw.

“See?” Nakoa murmured, his voice as full of awe as I felt. “Beautiful.”

It was.

A roar sounded in my bones as it approached, my heart pounding into synced rhythm with Nakoa's. No, the roar came from the sound of air rushing over the great membraned wings. Amazingly Nakoa laughed and the dragon passed just over us, as if I could have reached out to touch it, and the turbulence of it tossed Nakoa's lightning-threaded locks so they lashed against my cheeks. All of it welled up in my chest, a kind of terrified elation that burst out in my own laugh. All around us, the people—even Chief Tane—held their hands up to the sky, as if savoring the sensation of the passage of the majestic beast, singing out their song of awe and celebration.

Nakoa carried me down the mountain in a kind of triumph, leading a procession of thousands, all talking and laughing loudly, about the king, the dragon, and the foreign queen. Chief Tane walked beside us, rendering conversation between Nakoa and me unwise. Besides, with the cacophony, we would have been barely able to hear each other.

Still I caught Nakoa flicking me the occasional searching glance, a line between his brows as if he sought to solve a puzzle that perplexed him. Inoa, on his other side, also caught my eye with significant, long-eyed stares, silently communicating something. That, at least, I could make a good guess at.

Yes, I would do what I needed to do to save Nakoa's life and get him through this absurd challenge to his throne. Far more important considerations than this eternal preserving of something that meant nothing if not used, enshrined for a day that would never come. Nakoa had been gentle and patient with me and, better, his touch worked for me more than any other person's had. It would be pleasurable, I'd be done with this spinster-virgin status that made me feel like such a pariah, and . . .

Well, we'd deal with any political or marital repercussions later.

The celebratory chorus ratcheted up another level as we approached the palace. I took advantage of the opportunity to refresh myself on the layout, now that it was more familiar to me, able to identify our rooms from the position of the broken wing, and the grand escarpment overlooking the sea, which I thought of as the formal ballroom, in their version of such things, along with the library in its protected central location and the high tower where I'd watched the
Hákyrling
sail away without me. The thought didn't quite pain me as much or leave me with the same sense of panicked breathlessness at being abandoned.

Very likely because I had far more acute crises to worry about.

Taking note of my absorption, Nakoa paused a moment at the viewpoint, allowing me time to take it in. Not my intention, exactly, as I'd been partially distracting myself from other thoughts. Chief Tane stopped also, a few paces ahead of us, fists on hips—a decided acquisitive light in his eyes as he glanced back at Nakoa.

“A grand place, my new home,” he taunted.

“It is not yours,” Inoa hissed, curling her fingers into her palms.

“It belongs to no one but the dragon.” Nakoa inserted the implacable words between them. “We live here by her indulgence.”

“Her?” I asked, pricked by curiosity into speaking before I meant to. It wasn't exactly the female tonality for human women, but I caught it for the first time that way.

Nakoa's night-black gaze moved to mine, slumberous under the white lightning in his brows, a hint of teasing in it, though his face didn't move from its composed lines. “Of course. Females of all species are the most fierce and dangerous.” His lips twitched and he adjusted me in his arms. “No matter her size.”

“She must be a dragon under the skin, to have held off such a mighty king,” Chief Tane said, tone riddled with contempt that twisted the words. He added a euphemism I didn't quite get but that sounded like an insinuation that my woman's passage contained sharp teeth to sever a man's member. Judging by Inoa's silent, furious expression of insult, I had the gist of it.

“If such is true,” I said to him, “then best hope King Nakoa KauPo succeeds in his efforts tonight, lest your own
bqllr
be at risk.” I used the Dasnarian word for “cock,” as it had a satisfyingly lewd sound to it.

Tane's temporary bafflement gave way to icy rage. “Careful, little
cala
queen. I would take your knives and use them to make new holes to fuck.”

Nakoa had turned his back, carrying me swiftly away before Tane finished his vile suggestion, but I pieced the words together as the chief followed behind us, calling out more of the same.

“Why do you allow him to come with us?” I asked Nakoa in a low enough tone that we could not be overheard.

He kept his stony gaze focused forward. “The palace belongs to all. No one can be forbidden entrance.”

That explained a great deal. Would he have banned the Dasnarians, even Jepp and Zynda, if that weren't the case? I suspected so.

“Not even someone who so blatantly challenges you?”

“He is a chief, with a people to be responsible for. He annoys but is within his rights.”

“I'm surprised he seeks to insult me.” It seemed the smart course of action would be to cozen and court me, if he sought to make me his queen instead of Nakoa's. Of course, I had none of the dragon-capturing witchcraft they ascribed to me, but they believed so.

“It is not you he wishes to offend.” Always taciturn in the best of moods, Nakoa seethed under the skin with volcanic fury, so tightly contained I hadn't sensed the full scope of it until that terse statement.