Queen of Jastain (3 page)

Too upset, she'd barely helped with the funeral, which her dad had planned to the last detail. It was just one more way he’d removed himself from her. His attorney handled all the transfer of property and funds into her trust. Susan, their housekeeper, managed the estate.

Six weeks had passed since the funeral and, except for the break-up with Chad, everything had remained the same. But now, her life was…different. She cut her gaze over to the man next to her. So freaking different, would it ever be the same again? Thoughts of the big empty house flashed through her mind. As lonely as it seemed, at least it was familiar, and it was home.

As the river forked and changed direction, so did they. She scanned the horizon for anything that would give her a clue about where she was. The horsemen seemed long gone, but a bad feeling swept over her and chills rose on her skin. He'd said there were more soldiers. Why was he being chased?

She stole another glance at him. A straight nose and strong jaw gave him a picturesque profile. His dark hair fell over tan skin, framing blue eyes, the color of the clearest ocean at its deepest point. Avant was stunning, possibly the best looking guy she’d ever seen, even without a shower. Definitely top three. But could she trust him? He didn't appear to want to hurt her. He'd had opportunity, and probably desire, considering his frustration from earlier. In fact, it seemed like he was trying to put her at ease, almost as if he was expecting her.

But it didn't matter. She'd made her decision when she opened the door for him, and right now, he was her only option.

They continued in silence. Instead of biting her nails, she plugged in her MP3 player to break the tension. Avant watched with eyes narrowed. When the music started, his face brightened into a sudden smile, and he nodded. Her heart thumped with the beat of the song. She would give anything to know what he was thinking.

Abby swayed to the tune. Hots-A-Lot tapped his foot to the beat of
Pocketful of Sunshine
. Something about the camaraderie filled her with hope and warmed her heart. For the first time in days, weeks maybe, she smiled, and it felt real.

As the river narrowed, he pointed out a place between a tall boulder and the mountainside where the car could fit. He looked in her eyes.
“Gather what things you need. I have shelter not far from here.”

Abby shivered as the electric sensation pulsed through her again. Her aching muscles protested against the thought of trekking through the mountains. Hopefully
not far
really was not far.

She dumped the beaded clutch out on the seat he'd just vacated, taking inventory. Out fell the little black box she'd stuffed in earlier. Her eyes filled with tears as her gaze lingered on it.

All the things that meant anything to her were gone, and the emptiness swirled in her heart like a bottomless cavern. She'd wished for escape, but now the unfamiliar surrounded her. Now wasn’t the time to dwell on all she’d lost. What she wouldn't give for some vodka. She dashed away the tears and stuffed the small box back into the bag.

Surveying the contents of her car, she discovered an almost full bottle of Evian and a can of Red Bull.

In the spilled contents of her purse, she found her ID, check card, and her favorite lip gloss—nothing that could help her in this place. She lifted her gaze to Avant as he buckled his sword belt. Her tongue trailed over her lips. Dollars to donuts there was a six-pack under that tunic.
For real, Abs? Don't you have more important things to worry about right now?

Glancing over the backseat, she spied the first aid kit that equipped every X-Terra. Considering her imminent trek through the wilderness, that pack might come in handy.

She shoved her phone and purse into the kit. “Lead the way, Hots-A-Lot.”

He quirked his eyebrow and knelt in front of her. Lifting his gaze to hers, he frowned.
“Hand me your…shoes.”

 She slipped the strappy sandals off and stepped back. He unsheathed his sword.
Whack
. He sliced off both heels with one blow.

A soft sob escaped her for the brutal death of her favorite sandals.

He stood and handed her the eight hundred dollar shoes sans heels. She gestured for him to go. Something sparked deep in his eyes. They stared at each other for a long moment before he turned and took off into the trees. She gulped, slipped the semi-flats on her feet, threw the bag over her shoulder, and clipped after him in her new Dolcini strappy sandals. Even without the heels, her feet already throbbed.

One to lead

One to rule

Attempt them both, become the fool

Ancient Jastanian Nursery Rhyme

Avant kindled a fire, which heated the landing of the large inlet. The damp, stone cavern sat high on a cliff and jutted at least fifteen feet into the side of the mountain.

Having sheltered in this cave many times, he doubted any but he knew of its existence. Here they would be safe from the king's men roaming the lower range. He scanned the valley as he continued to coax the coals, shooting sparks into the air.

“Umbra?” He let out a sardonic laugh. The Valley of Shadows—an unlikely place to plant The Seed of Light—was a wide expanse in the king's domain and already shrouded in Darkness. His gut wrenched at the thought of the spreading evil.

The sun sank low in the sky, bringing the frigid night air. He shot a glance at the young woman's bare legs folded underneath her and quickly looked away. She would surely be cold, although his body heat rose at the sight.

The short black shift barely covered her, and her shoes were the most impractical waste of finely crafted leather he'd ever laid eyes on. Had he any alternative to provide her he would have. She shivered as the taut buds of her breasts became visible against her dress. He hissed out a breath, and his mouth went dry.

Remembering who he was, he averted his gaze again and swallowed hard. The lump stuck in his throat. Her beauty mesmerized and stirred a desire in him that he dared not pursue. How long it had been since he'd seen so much of a woman. That, certainly, was the reason for such an undisciplined response. Still, he expected better of himself.

From where had the young woman come? Who was she? The horseless carriage and other mechanical devices spoke of her advanced society. With thoughts of her world, his mind spun faster than her Esterra's wheels. Machines that made music and controlled the temperature. Fireless light that seemed to shine without the use of oil, wax, or wick. These signs, coupled with the fact she had appeared from nowhere at the precise moment of his need were evidence enough she was
The One
. A deeply seeded knowing in his spirit, his Gift, confirmed the belief.

In his dream seven nights before, his father had come to him and foretold,
The Stone of Light will be carried in the ear of the Chosen One and be transported in a carriage pulled by two hundred and fifty horses
.

“Two hundred and fifty horses?” His voice echoed through the cave. She lifted her face to stare at him. Was it possible her carriage was the answer to the impossible riddle? The firelight danced in her eyes. Could she carry The Stone?

The Stone of Light had been missing for more than fifty years, along with all the crown jewels. Though he knew where two were, the remaining seven, including the revered center stone, were lost. The thought of any carriage pulled by more than a dozen horses had seemed preposterous. It must be true. Though, how it was possible was beyond his ken.

And what of her world? He’d always believed in other realms and places, but to find they existed in truth was a marvel…and a concern.

Flames flickered and surged with warmth. He glanced at her huddled near the fire. Her shoulders hunched and her eyes drooped, but she continued to shiver.

He strode to his leather pack, pulled out a blanket, and handed it her.
“My lady, you look chilled in the evening air, and this cave will be colder still when the sun gives its final regards. Please take this.”

She provided a tight-lipped smiled and nodded. Her eyes darted from him, as if embarrassed, and she quickly snuggled under the soft wool. A wave of tenderness swept over him at her childlike response. He stroked his thumb across his bottom lip.

He'd led her down the stream for three miles, and they'd spent the better part of the afternoon climbing to the cave. She'd struggled and stumbled along the path, hindered by her lack of conditioning and strange clothing. Her black shift adorned with precious stones and the unfathomable height of the spindle heels he'd severed must indicate her rank and importance. Clearly, she wasn't accustomed to walking as evidenced by her difficulty in breathing during their journey.

Though his eyes appreciated her soft curves, her life of luxury and ease had come to an end. He would make certain he prepared her for the difficulties that lay ahead. That was why she'd come to him.

Never had Avant doubted the wisdom of the Light, but it was far from his vision to see how this young woman would restore the kingdom. To think
this girl
, however lovely, could accomplish such a task seemed pure folly. Nevertheless, the Light had spoken, and as ever, he would see it done.

Avant picked up the metal pot containing the stew he’d made early that morning.
“My lady, would you care for some squirrel stew?”

She politely declined, but her nose faintly crinkled and her upper lip twitched. He chuckled. She would eat when hunger gripped her.

The sunset lit the sky with rich colors of orange and pink. He turned to her. His chest tightened, and his hand burned to touch her golden hair. He clenched his fists at his sides and paced to the mouth of the cave.

By the Light, she is beautiful.
Neither the Light nor his Gift had prepared him for this young woman. She was certainly no great mage or disciplined warrior. Delicate and privileged, he suspected, based on her appearance and on their limited acquaintance. A dubious laugh escaped his lips as he watched the quiet girl. With her training at hand, he had his work cut out for him. Though it was his own misconceptions that had led him to believe the Chosen One must be a man, she seemed an odd choice for the task.

Earlier that day, when the scouting guards spotted him, he'd thought to hide in his cave, but the second band of soldiers had cut off his path. His only recourse was through the valley in the open. It was then the carriage appeared from nothing. He'd immediately known it was his salvation.

Thank the Light, none of the soldiers had recognized him. Not only had he escaped capture, but his true identity remained hidden.

Avant smiled as he remembered the struggle that played across her fair face and her ultimate decision to help him. If nothing else, that proved her bravery and willingness to take risks. She had spirit, to be sure. Those were things with which he could work and a basis on which to begin her training. He frowned. The rest, however, was weather from a different day.

Could she be trusted? A shiver danced down his spine. His deepest secrets would be revealed to her. Avant rubbed down the hair on his arms. He doubted anything could make the necessary intimacy any more palatable to him than squirrel stew was to her.

His gaze flickered over her as she rummaged through her bag of belongings. Being so near a woman taxed his reserve. He'd spent two decades circumventing any intimacy with women. Only taking pleasure in the innocent teasing of the married women in the village, he had avoided young women as if they were the king's sentries. His isolation had worked, until now. He shot her an accusing glance. Now, her soft, full curves were being thrust upon him. He winced at his poor word choice, and the images they evoked.

The vestige of Light she bore precluded her from him, from any man. To restore Light to the kingdom was her purpose, and no man would deter her from the task. Least of all him. Besides, he must gather his own life from ruins and regain his bride lost long ago, if Sentieve would have him. He straightened his shoulders and stepped toward the woman. Both had their respective purpose and fulfill it they must.

The young lady's lessons began now. They had to communicate with one another, or their task would be impossible. Certain of her Gifting, he folded his legs and sat directly in front of her. Avant relaxed his features to hide the intensity that some mistook for severity. In recent years he'd learned to temper his responses…somewhat.

Staring into her face, he spoke using his Implanting,
“Fair one, I believe you can communicate with me as I communicate with you.”

Her eyes widened, and she shook her head in denial of her Gift.

Avant nodded.
“Yes. You can. Look at me and clear your mind.”

The young beauty sucked in a lengthy breath. She looked at him half-squinting and every muscle in her face clenched.

“
Try to focus your mind, my lady, as if speaking to yourself. Look deep into my eyes. Imagine you stand in a stream knee-deep. Balance your energy and resist against the current.”

Again her face clenched, and her body shook from the effort she exerted, but nothing happened. She wished to communicate, but her doubt hindered the accomplishment. Dropping her gaze, she shook her head and muttered something in her native tongue. She gave up far too quickly.

Touching his steepled fingers to his lips, Avant studied her response.  Failure could not be tolerated. They were people of the Light, called by the Light. And by the Light, they would prevail.

He lifted her chin. His hand tingled when it met her smooth skin, and his countenance softened at the fear reflected in her face. Merciful Light, her eyes danced with pools of blue and green, reminding him of a place he loved. “
Fair one, the difference between success and failure is the direction of your will. It is always too soon to admit defeat.”

With the force of a storm-swollen river, he thrust his determination into her mind, obliterating the doubt that swirled across her face.
“If you can understand me, you can communicate with me. I am certain of it.”