Archangel's Enigma
Page 55
“No,” Isabel said. “But he will make it to Amanat in far less time than it would take any other vampire, of this I’m certain.” The open affection in the other woman’s tone belied the wagging tongues of those who said she was an automaton devoid of emotions. “Come. I’ll show you where you can bathe and rest.”
Andromeda wanted to ask Isabel what it was to live the life of an ascetic, asexual and serene, for so long, couldn’t find the courage . . . because she knew her own resolve was at breaking point. “I’ll need to gather supplies for our onward journey,” she said instead, her voice rough with need and a dull, throbbing loneliness.
“Naasir mentioned it. Rest first, then you must pay your respects to Caliane. I’ll put together the supplies in the interim.”
Andromeda stumbled, barely hearing Isabel’s last sentence. “What?”
“You are in her city,” the warrior said gently. “It is a matter of form . . . though she is aware of your bloodline, so she may subject you to deeper scrutiny.”
Andromeda’s lungs strained. “I appreciate the warning.”
Leading her to a set of steps on the far side of the courtyard, Isabel showed her to a second-floor apartment filled with sunlight. The windows were open, curtains of gauzy lace pushed aside to reveal flower boxes bursting with life; more flowers grew in the large planters set on the small balcony, which could be reached through a set of doors that had also been propped open.
A fresh wind blew the lace curtains into the air, until they almost touched the four-poster bed covered with exquisitely patterned white-on-white sheets. Beneath Andromeda’s abused feet, the thick carpet was a deep blue. More flowers—a wildflower posy—sat in a little glass vase set atop a writing table.
That cheerful posy gave the elegant room an air of welcome and whimsy—as if someone had gone out and picked the blooms just for her. “It’s lovely, thank you. Especially the flowers.”
“Ah, but I can’t take any credit.” Arms loosely folded, Isabel leaned against the doorjamb. “I mentioned to one of the maidens that a friend of Naasir’s was coming to stay and she took it upon herself to make you feel welcome. He’s a favorite with the women.”
Andromeda wanted to throw the stupid posy out the window. “Yet she welcomes me when she doesn’t know if I may be a competitor?”
“They all accept that Naasir is too wild to be held by any one woman,” Isabel said easily before pushing off the doorjamb. “I’ll leave you to your ablutions. Once you’ve slept and are ready to see Caliane, you’ll find me either at my home next door, or at the temple.” A faint smile. “Caliane has instructed me to teach her maidens how to defend themselves.”
Andromeda thought of the sweet-faced creatures, some prettily plump, others reed slender, that she’d seen on her walk through the city. “Oh.”
Isabel chuckled, one hand on the hilt of the knife she wore at her hip. “Yes. It’s a sometimes frustrating task, but they’re so earnest that I can’t be angry with them—especially after they spent so much time sewing up ‘warrior clothes’ for these sessions.”
Andromeda’s lips twitched despite herself at Isabel’s suspiciously bland tone; she was curious to see the maidens’ idea of warrior clothing. “Wait,” she said when Isabel would’ve left. “Avi told me Suyin was in anshara. Did Keir say when she might wake?”
The humor faded from the other woman’s expression. “It may be many weeks or even months—she is very fragile.” A pause. “It appears immortals can die of sadness and loneliness, of an existence without hope. I never knew that.”
Tears clogged Andromeda’s throat. “Suyin . . .” She just shook her head, unable to put into words the pain she’d seen in the other woman’s eyes.
Isabel’s face reflected the knowledge Andromeda couldn’t articulate. “Caliane says it is a kind of willing the self to end. It takes a long time, but Suyin has had millennia. She probably wouldn’t have woken from her next Sleep.” Leaving on those solemn words, Isabel pulled the door shut behind herself.
Her heart feeling as if it had a crushing weight on it, and the knot in her stomach a lump of stone, Andromeda didn’t allow her gaze to linger on the bed but headed straight for the large bathing chamber. The already-filled and steaming pool of water to her left made her moan in want, but afraid she’d fall asleep, she indulged for a bare minute, then rose and washed under the shower.
As the fat droplets crashed onto her skin, she would’ve done anything to be where she’d been the last time she’d taken a proper bath, in that icy pool in the valley. She could almost feel Naasir’s strong fingers in her hair as he washed it, the sneaky touch of his hand on her feathers, the way he’d raced with her. “Hurry,” she whispered, her hand reaching out as if she’d catch him through space and time itself. “I miss you.”
24
Naasir wasn’t surprised when Jason landed beside him soon after he hit the shores of Japan. The barge hadn’t brought him all the way—he’d transferred onto another friendly and much faster vessel soon after Andromeda took flight. When he’d dived from the barge to swim across to the sleek little freighter, both crews’ mouths had fallen open. Someone had screamed.
He didn’t know why. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t swim.
“Andi?” he said to Jason as the two of them spoke on a deserted part of an otherwise busy dock.
Andromeda wanted to ask Isabel what it was to live the life of an ascetic, asexual and serene, for so long, couldn’t find the courage . . . because she knew her own resolve was at breaking point. “I’ll need to gather supplies for our onward journey,” she said instead, her voice rough with need and a dull, throbbing loneliness.
“Naasir mentioned it. Rest first, then you must pay your respects to Caliane. I’ll put together the supplies in the interim.”
Andromeda stumbled, barely hearing Isabel’s last sentence. “What?”
“You are in her city,” the warrior said gently. “It is a matter of form . . . though she is aware of your bloodline, so she may subject you to deeper scrutiny.”
Andromeda’s lungs strained. “I appreciate the warning.”
Leading her to a set of steps on the far side of the courtyard, Isabel showed her to a second-floor apartment filled with sunlight. The windows were open, curtains of gauzy lace pushed aside to reveal flower boxes bursting with life; more flowers grew in the large planters set on the small balcony, which could be reached through a set of doors that had also been propped open.
A fresh wind blew the lace curtains into the air, until they almost touched the four-poster bed covered with exquisitely patterned white-on-white sheets. Beneath Andromeda’s abused feet, the thick carpet was a deep blue. More flowers—a wildflower posy—sat in a little glass vase set atop a writing table.
That cheerful posy gave the elegant room an air of welcome and whimsy—as if someone had gone out and picked the blooms just for her. “It’s lovely, thank you. Especially the flowers.”
“Ah, but I can’t take any credit.” Arms loosely folded, Isabel leaned against the doorjamb. “I mentioned to one of the maidens that a friend of Naasir’s was coming to stay and she took it upon herself to make you feel welcome. He’s a favorite with the women.”
Andromeda wanted to throw the stupid posy out the window. “Yet she welcomes me when she doesn’t know if I may be a competitor?”
“They all accept that Naasir is too wild to be held by any one woman,” Isabel said easily before pushing off the doorjamb. “I’ll leave you to your ablutions. Once you’ve slept and are ready to see Caliane, you’ll find me either at my home next door, or at the temple.” A faint smile. “Caliane has instructed me to teach her maidens how to defend themselves.”
Andromeda thought of the sweet-faced creatures, some prettily plump, others reed slender, that she’d seen on her walk through the city. “Oh.”
Isabel chuckled, one hand on the hilt of the knife she wore at her hip. “Yes. It’s a sometimes frustrating task, but they’re so earnest that I can’t be angry with them—especially after they spent so much time sewing up ‘warrior clothes’ for these sessions.”
Andromeda’s lips twitched despite herself at Isabel’s suspiciously bland tone; she was curious to see the maidens’ idea of warrior clothing. “Wait,” she said when Isabel would’ve left. “Avi told me Suyin was in anshara. Did Keir say when she might wake?”
The humor faded from the other woman’s expression. “It may be many weeks or even months—she is very fragile.” A pause. “It appears immortals can die of sadness and loneliness, of an existence without hope. I never knew that.”
Tears clogged Andromeda’s throat. “Suyin . . .” She just shook her head, unable to put into words the pain she’d seen in the other woman’s eyes.
Isabel’s face reflected the knowledge Andromeda couldn’t articulate. “Caliane says it is a kind of willing the self to end. It takes a long time, but Suyin has had millennia. She probably wouldn’t have woken from her next Sleep.” Leaving on those solemn words, Isabel pulled the door shut behind herself.
Her heart feeling as if it had a crushing weight on it, and the knot in her stomach a lump of stone, Andromeda didn’t allow her gaze to linger on the bed but headed straight for the large bathing chamber. The already-filled and steaming pool of water to her left made her moan in want, but afraid she’d fall asleep, she indulged for a bare minute, then rose and washed under the shower.
As the fat droplets crashed onto her skin, she would’ve done anything to be where she’d been the last time she’d taken a proper bath, in that icy pool in the valley. She could almost feel Naasir’s strong fingers in her hair as he washed it, the sneaky touch of his hand on her feathers, the way he’d raced with her. “Hurry,” she whispered, her hand reaching out as if she’d catch him through space and time itself. “I miss you.”
24
Naasir wasn’t surprised when Jason landed beside him soon after he hit the shores of Japan. The barge hadn’t brought him all the way—he’d transferred onto another friendly and much faster vessel soon after Andromeda took flight. When he’d dived from the barge to swim across to the sleek little freighter, both crews’ mouths had fallen open. Someone had screamed.
He didn’t know why. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t swim.
“Andi?” he said to Jason as the two of them spoke on a deserted part of an otherwise busy dock.
