Whisper (2 page)

“Oh, yes, Brin, anything to get rid of this awful thing!”

I can’t really get rid of it, Dearra, but…well…do you trust me?

“That’s a foolish question. Of course I trust you.”

Take the sword and press the flat of the blade over the brand. It’s going to get hot, but it won’t hurt like the other did. You need to be sure about this, Dearra. Once we start, I can’t stop. Do you understand?

“Yes, yes! I’ll do anything, Brin. I’m sure. Just please hurry—I can’t stand it a minute longer. It…it disgusts me.” Dearra tucked the hem of her skirt at her waist to hold it out of the way.

Brin instructed her to place the blade flat against her wounded thigh, so that the widest part of the sword completely covered the burn. Once the blade was in place, Brin began to speak.

Draco Aeturnus,

Prognatus Ignigena.

Puella Maj,

Ambo Consociu.

The tip of the blade grew red hot, and a small wisp of smoke drifted up from it. Dearra felt only a deep warmth emanating from the metal, permeating her skin and seeming to make her whole leg tingle.

“What does that mean, Brin?” Dearra asked, holding the blade firmly against her leg.

Loosely translated it means, Dragon eternal, born of fire. Maiden of Maj, the two united.

“Oh,” was all she could think to say.

You can look now, Dearra.

She slowly pulled the sword away and stared, open mouthed, at the mark the sword left behind. The original J was still raw, but the new mark looked as though it had been there for years. When the J finally healed, it would be nearly impossible to distinguish it from the rest of the mark she now bore, shaped like a dragon in profile, with a wide wing spread, curved gracefully upward to a fierce point. The figure’s head was held high, and topped with two magnificent horns, the mouth slightly ajar as if ready to speak, or perhaps breathe fire.

Dearra, say something,
he urged.
It’s all right isn’t it? I did tell you that you would have to trade one mark for another.

“No, it’s fine. I’m just nervous, I guess.” She took a breath and finally said, “Brin, it’s…it’s…thank you.”

Satisfaction and relief at her response washed over Brin. Dearra yanked her skirt back into place and was preparing to bolt from her chamber.

For Tolah’s sake, Fuzzy! Now where are we going?

“I have to show Darius!”

Brin didn’t argue. What good would it have done, besides?

Dearra made her way through the keep as quietly as she could, pausing briefly every once in a while to check for anyone who might be walking the halls so late at night. Now that Darius had been moved to a chamber next to her father’s, Dearra had to be a bit more cautious. She tapped lightly at his door and let herself in, not waiting for a response.

Darius relaxed in front of a fire wearing only a pair of soft leather pants, trying to shake the tension of the day. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he had not heard her gentle tapping, but he was not surprised when Dearra slipped into his room.

Darius took a deep breath, got to his feet, and approached her. “What are you doing here, Dearra?” he asked. His tone was firm, but his eyes were kind, and she knew he wasn’t really angry. “I thought we agreed no more nighttime visits. It’s no good for your reputation, and if your father ever catches us, it won’t be any good for my neck either.”

She was so excited, she completely ignored his concerns. “You worry too much,” she told him. “I came to show you! Look! Look what Brin did!”

Dearra took hold of the hem of her skirt and lifted it high, exposing the burn on her upper thigh. Darius assumed she was referring to the image of the dragon that now covered the offensive J that had been there previously, but honestly, he had spared the mark only a cursory glance in favor of staring at Dearra’s shapely legs.

“Well? What do you think?” Dearra asked expectantly.

Darius swallowed what felt like a mouthful of sand before he was able to force a response. “Magnificent,” he whispered, not looking up.

Dearra realized that he was not referring to the dragon, and for a moment she was annoyed, but then she saw how dark his eyes had become as he stood fascinated before her. It was a heady thing for a girl of eighteen to have that much power over another person. Perhaps she could be forgiven for wanting to experiment a little with that kind of influence.

Don’t do it, Dearra.

She didn’t heed Brin’s warning. She had chosen her course. Her heart beat nervously as she looked into the face of the man she loved. Summoning her courage, Dearra stepped toward Darius’s towering form, the skirt still held high. She closed her eyes, leaned into him and inhaled deeply, and placed velvety kisses on his bare chest.

Darius held himself completely motionless, warring with the desire to do the right thing, and the desire to do the Breken thing. For a moment he thought he would be able to control that more dangerous side of himself, but when Dearra stepped even closer to him, and reached up to twine her fingers into his hair and urge him to kiss her, he lost what little control remained.

Months of her teasing had taken their toll. Brin had warned her. Darius had warned her. Even Carly, her best friend, had warned her, but Dearra refused to believe there was any danger in her flirtation. She was about to find out how wrong she had been.

Darius lowered his head to provide the kiss she was so ardently insisting on. He scooped her into his arms and covered her mouth with his, the kissing becoming more insistent, more intense, until Dearra felt she couldn’t catch her breath. She tried to focus on what was happening, even as she felt the room begin to spin. Overwhelmed with these strange, new feelings, she couldn’t seem to make her mind work properly. But when she felt the bed beneath her, she snapped back to reality, and a moment of apprehension crept in.

“Darius,” she managed to whisper between kisses, but instead of making him pause, the throaty whisper seemed to urge him onward.

She felt his weight on her frame as his body partially covered hers. The sensation was both pleasant and intimidating at the same time. “Darius,” she said again, this time with a bit more force.

Again, her voice seemed only to intensify his need. She was still not overly concerned, and continued to revel in his touch, but when she heard the fabric of her shirt tear under his less than gentle hand, she felt panic set in, and tried to sit up, but her attempt was in vain, for she was pinned beneath him. “Darius, wait!” she pleaded.

“No more waiting,” he growled in response.

Gone was the Darius she knew and loved, replaced by the newly awoken Breken warrior, the one who wanted and took without thinking twice.

When she tried to push him away, he grabbed both of her narrow wrists in one of his hands and held them firmly above her head, effectively shackling her. It reminded her too much of being manacled by Jacob. The image of him touching her bare leg loomed in her mind, causing her to relive the horrible time spent on board the ship, and silent tears slipped from her eyes. “Darius, please! Stop!” She cried openly, no longer able to hold back her tears. Darius continued, giving no indication of having heard her plea.

Darius was completely consumed by the fire of his longing. Somewhere, at the very back of his mind, he thought he heard a voice telling him to stop, but that voice grew fainter with each passing moment. She was all he needed. How and even why he had denied himself this for so long became the only questions he cared to deliberate. She was right in front of him, and she had come to him. He wanted her; everything else was irrelevant. Who could blame him for succumbing to his desires?

She smelled like lavender and sunshine, and he breathed in deeply as he kissed the skin above her chemise. There was a brief moment in which he wondered how her undergarment had become exposed, but then he disregarded the thought and continued his exploration.

He kissed the hollow of her throat. His free hand trailed down her side to her hip. Again, he had a moment’s pause when he considered that his other hand was holding her wrists, but then the moment passed when he became distracted by the feel of her beneath him, the fabric of her skirt, and his hand wrapped in the gauzy material. That was when he realized that the only barrier between him and the silky soft skin of the woman beneath him was the garment. He needed to feel that skin on his the way a man dying of thirst needed water. He tore the cloth violently out of his way, and then—

Darius! Enough!

The voice seemed loud enough to cleave his head in two. He reached for Dearra once more, but his hand brushed against something more than her, and he shouted out in extreme pain. He yanked his arm away to see the skin just above the wrist on the inside of his arm had been scorched by Brin’s blade. He looked up and was startled to see the look in Dearra’s tear-swollen eyes.

Realization having set in, Darius scrambled to his feet, backing away from her until he stood with his back against the stone wall on the far side of the room. He stopped to look at her again. Really look at her.

The skirt of her gown had been torn from hem to thigh. The top of the dress had fared little better, and was ripped in two places, exposing the delicate undergarment beneath. There were red marks on her wrists from where his hand had been. Her eyes were red with tears, and her lips swollen from the assault of his kisses. His revulsion with himself was all consuming. He wondered what kind of monster he was to do such a thing to the girl he loved more than life itself. All he could think was that the only way to keep her safe was to ensure she remained as far from him as possible. “Get out, Dearra!” he shouted. “Get out, now!”

Dearra gripped the tattered bits of her dress and attempted to cover herself as she ran from Darius’s room, moving quickly and quietly through the deserted corridors of the keep, for the safety and solitude of her room. She scolded herself: Brin had warned her; Darius had warned her; even Carly had warned her. But she had persisted in her teasing, and then, when he reacted as any man would, she’d refused him.

She was humiliated. She professed to love him, but then she caused him this pain. She was appalled with herself. What kind of girl was she to do this to him? No wonder he had sent her away. “Brin?” she asked tentatively, seeking the comfort of her friend, but Brin’s only response was silence.

Darius stood on the docks a few feet away from Dearra, stealing furtive glances at her as she took in the activities around her. He would give just about anything to know what she was thinking. Was she hurt? Was she angry? Had she told Maj’s weapons master Daniel, or Carly, or her father? He felt almost literally crushed beneath the weight of his guilt and shame, but Dearra seemed to not even notice his existence
. Brin, please,
Darius pleaded,
I have to know what she’s thinking. I can’t stand it anymore.
But his thoughts went unanswered. Darius imagined that Brin was as angry with him as Dearra, for this wasn’t the first of his questions that had been answered with silence since the events of that night.

Dearra stood on the docks a few feet away from Darius, peeking in his direction whenever she thought he was busy with his task. She longed to know what he was thinking. Did he still care for her, even a little? Could he ever forgive her? How was she ever going to make things right between them? She wanted and needed the comfort of a friend, but her shame was so complete, she felt she could not confide in anyone. Anyone, that is, except Brin, and he still wasn’t talking. She had begged and pleaded but Brin remained silent. She could only assume he was as angry with her as Darius was. She frowned and fidgeted with the bag she held. The stress was already beginning to wear on her. She hoped it did not show as plainly on her face.

Darius caught the look transforming Dearra’s normally smooth and lovely features and felt a fresh wave of guilt. Sure his own face had pulled into a matching dark mask of anger and frustration, he stalked aboard the ship, anxious for it to be underway, if only to have something to take his mind off the situation at hand.

Carly was so busy helping to load the last of the needed supplies that she was unaware of Dearra’s distress.

Daniel, however, had noticed that she was nervous and upset, but chalked it up to the fact that the girl had never done well on boats, and she was probably feeling a good case of the nerves at the thought of her upcoming voyage.

The Breken was harder to read. It was obvious that something was bothering the boy, but whatever it was had remained a mystery. Daniel turned to the quiet man sitting next to him and said, “William, Darius is troubled.”

William glanced up at Darius and quickly confirmed Daniel’s assessment. His “brother” was indeed brooding, even more than was usual. William, a man of few words, nodded his agreement to Daniel.

Daniel ran a hand through his thick hair. “Well, what do you think we should do? I don’t like to let things fester where they concern Darius. The boy gets himself so worked up, it’s best to get things out in the open as soon as possible.”

William scrunched his forehead in thought and then smiled. “Best to let Dearra fix it,” he said.

Daniel sighed in relief. William’s solution seemed so simple. Dearra would, of course, notice something was wrong, and would have Darius out of his mood in no time. They were a couple now, besides, and it was her responsibility to take care of the boy, much more so than it was Daniel’s, and that was all that mattered as far as he was concerned.

Daniel and William shared a smug grin, and the two men set to work, whistling as they went.

Carly looked up to catch the cool breeze coming in off the water as it blew her damp hair from her face. She noticed Darius first. The dark scowl on his face was hard to miss, and even harder to read. She searched for Dearra, wondering why she wasn’t buzzing around him in concern, and found her working, half-heartedly, trying to untangle the lines of a rigging that had twisted. Dearra wore a worried frown. The way her eyes flitted from her work to Darius’s moody face told her something was definitely wrong, but she hesitated to get involved, fearing she would just make things worse. Best to let them resolve things on their own. Brin would make sure they resolved any conflict quickly, Carly was sure of it. Thus assured, Carly set back to work, confident all would be well.

***

Finally, it was time to be underway. Darius scanned the people who had gathered at the docks to say goodbye, looking for Reo and Royce. The child had promised to deliver the wolf to the docks and to see them off. When, at last, Darius saw Reo, it was Catherine who brought the animal forward. “Where’s Royce? The boy said he would be here,” Darius said gruffly as he strode from the ship to approach her.

“I think it was just too hard for him to be here, with his father going away, and you, who have become like an uncle to him, and the wolf, who has become his closest companion. He’s just a little boy, Darius. Don’t think badly of him. I know I am his mother, but that doesn’t make my assessment any less true.”

Of course Royce was upset. More than anything, the child longed to go to sea. Watching all of them set off on this adventure without him would probably be the hardest thing he had ever dealt with in all of his thirteen years.

Darius felt embarrassed at having spoken to Catherine so rudely. He reached out to the woman, gripped her arm gently, and smiled. “You’re right, of course. When you see him, please tell him I will miss him, and I will hurry his father back to him.”

“Thank you, Darius. I will tell him.”

“I have plenty of reasons to hurry home without Darius’s assistance,” William said. He stepped forward, hugged his wife closely, and kissed her goodbye.

Though she was normally a stoic woman, Catherine buried her face against her husband’s shoulder and wept.

“Tell Royce, I love him, and I will bring him something back.”

“The only thing we want you to bring back is Phillip and yourselves. Royce will have his chance at a grand adventure when he’s older. He’s sulking right now, but he’ll get over it.” Catherine used the apron she wore to dry her eyes.

William nodded, and he and Darius went aboard to join the others.

The ship pulled slowly away from the docks, and the people cheered and waved. They were going to get Phillip. Though only a handful of Maj were able to make the trip, all of Maj went with them. Every heart yearned for the return of the little boy who had been stolen from them.

Hugh had been so busy giving last minute instructions to Rordan, he hadn’t noticed Darius’s tense state, or Dearra’s nervousness, and now that they were underway, he could think only of Pip and the rescue mission. Hugh stood at the bow and stared out to sea, his mind working and reworking every detail leading to that very moment.

Hugh’s son and daughter meant everything to him. When Phillip was taken, he felt as though his world had been torn in two. Though his duty as Lord of Maj was important to him, he would have gladly given it all up to have his child returned to him. There were days when the thought of Phillip alone in the Breken world made it almost too painful to breathe, but Dearra still remained, and he had to be strong for her. Hugh had vowed to always be there for his children, and they would never be alone if he had anything to say about it.

The sun shone down brightly, and a steady breeze filled the sails. Men climbed the masts and unfurled more canvas to speed them on their way. Darius joined them aloft. He enjoyed the feeling of freedom he felt so high up in the rigging. Though his large frame prevented him from moving as easily and as nimbly as the smaller men around him, his experience on the trip to Maj was put to good use.

Carly stood beside Dearra on the deck of the ship, leaned against the railing, and watched as their vessel sliced through the waves. Dearra was silent, which made Carly reconsider her plan to stay out of Dearra’s spat with Darius. Maybe she
should
say something. It couldn’t hurt to at least try to talk to Dearra about it, she decided.

“I just love the feel of a ship beneath me, don’t you? The movement is exhilarating, like riding the wind.” Carly glanced at Dearra, who gave no response, but continued to stare off into the distance. “I think being at sea is so very calming. I can feel all of my worries rolling away from me, just like the waves roll from the side of the ship. Don’t you find it so, Dearra?”

Again, she peeked at her friend, but Dearra held her mouth firmly closed, refusing to talk. Carly tried once more. “Truly, Dearra, the sea is like life, if you think about it, full of ups and downs. First we are up, so full of joy and happiness, and then we are down, sometimes into the very depths of sadness. Up…down…it’s really quite profound. Up…down…up…down.”

Once more Carly turned to Dearra, hoping for a response, it was then that she noticed Dearra had turned the most fascinating shade of green. Carly realized too late that Dearra’s tight-lipped lack of response had been an effort to contain her breakfast.

She was unsuccessful.

“Oh, Dearra!” Carly said. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” She stroked Dearra’s back as she half leaned, half hung over the side of the ship. “Daniel!” Carly called out. “Daniel, come quickly! Dearra’s sick!”

No one noticed Darius lose his grip high up in the sails. He fell no more than a few feet before he was able to catch himself on one of the many ropes that hung around him. He had heard Carly call out to Daniel, tried to locate Dearra, and had simply let go. Rather than pausing to consider how close he had come to falling to the deck below after gaining purchase, Darius continued his search for Dearra, his heart pounding. His pulse slowed when he found her and heard Daniel’s laughter drift up to him on the breeze.

“Well, Dearra, haven’t quite found your sea legs I see,” Daniel said. He scooped Dearra into his arms while Carly hovered alongside them.

“Shut up and let me die,” Dearra moaned.

“Oh, come now. It’s not that bad. I’ll take you to your cabin, and Carly can tend to your angry stomach.”

“You’re bringing Carly?” Dearra asked, opening one eye.

“Of course, dearest,” Carly said.

“Forget it, Daniel. I’m safer here.”

Daniel laughed, ignored her protests, and carried Dearra to the cabin she and Carly would share.

Darius breathed a sigh of relief, now that he was assured Dearra’s ailment was nothing more than sea sickness, and he carefully lowered himself to the relative safety of the deck.