As much as she wanted to be with him, she knew the best way to keep him alive was to break off with him completely. For how many years would she think of him, dream of him? He would be out there somewhere roaming the earth, while she remained here, forever shackled to their sacred duty.
“I’m not allowed to leave the valley now,” Neona whispered to her sister. Had she become the prisoner that Minerva had warned her about? Could she live the rest of her long life without love? Without Zoltan?
She rested her hand on the dirt of her sister’s grave. “He attracts me like no other man. He excites me. Surprises me. Makes me laugh. Makes me burn.” Her fingers dug into the dirt. “He makes me long for the impossible.”
But there was something about him that was niggling at the back of her mind. Last night, he’d taken her knife and spun her around to grab her at a speed that had been incredibly fast. There had also been something odd about his eyes. She was no longer sure it had been a reflection from the fire. And then somehow he had managed to escape the cabin without being seen.
A mystery man. Even that made him appealing to her. He excited her mind as much as her body.
She released the clod of dirt and brushed her hands together. There was no point in speculating about who he was or where he’d come from. She could never see him again. Tears filled her eyes, and she blinked them away. Think about something else.
By the light of the three-quarter moon, she spotted the arrow Zoltan had used last night to have Zhan carry a note. It lay close by on the ground. He must have found it in the woods where she’d shot at him a few times that first night. She should go back to collect the fallen arrows, but she couldn’t leave the valley. Couldn’t ever see him again.
The tears spilled over.
“Neona,” a voice whispered behind her.
A male voice. With a gasp, she turned around.
He was uphill at the edge of the forest. He stepped toward her, his form still partially hidden in shadow.
“No!” she whispered, jumping to her feet. She looked around nervously, then dashed toward him. “Zoltan.” She shoved him into the cover of the forest.
He caught her by the arms. “Are you all right?”
“No! You’re scaring me. If anyone catches you here, they’ll kill you!”
“I had to make sure you’re all right.”
“I’m fine. Please, go!”
“You’ve been crying.” He wiped her cheek with his thumb.
The simple gesture made more tears flow, and she clung to him as he held her tight. Just a few minutes, she thought as she wrapped her arms around his neck. After a few minutes, she would let go of him forever.
“I was worried about you,” he whispered, his hand rubbing her back. “Did you get in trouble?”
She shook her head. “Just the standard speech about how men cannot be trusted.”
“You can trust me.” He released her and pulled a box from his jacket. “I told you I would bring you a watch tonight, and I did.”
She took the box from him and pivoted, scanning their surroundings.
“There’s no one around,” he assured her. “I already checked.”
“But how did you get here? There is only one way into this valley, and it’s being guarded.” She looked around again. “They must have seen you.”
“No one saw me.” He motioned toward the box. “I changed the time for you.”
How had he managed to get here? Neona glanced uphill. The mountains surrounding Beyul-La were high and treacherous. It would take several days to enter the valley that way. The only group to ever attempt it had been the expedition Frederic had been on, and everyone had died but him.
“It’s all right, Neona,” Zoltan said softly.
She shook her head. “You’re not safe here. You shouldn’t have come.”
“I promised you a watch, so nothing was going to stop me.”
Her heart squeezed in her chest. He was a man of his word. She opened the box and stared. This wasn’t anything like the pocket watch Frederic had owned.
“It’s not that great, I know,” Zoltan mumbled. “I have a better one on order—”
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, touching the sparkly kitten. “It’s too pretty to hide in a pocket.”
“It goes on your wrist. Here, I’ll show you.” He took the watch out and fastened the band around her wrist.
“The color is so bright.” She felt the band and gasped. “It’s so strong, yet it bends. What is this wondrous material?”
“Plastic,” he muttered.
“It’s amazing!”
He winced. “I’ll get something in gold and diamonds—”
“No! I love this.” She smiled at the sparkly kitten. “Zhan will love it, too.”
“I saw him down at the cabin.”
“Oh, good.” She turned her wrist, admiring the way the watch sparkled in the moonlight. “I sent him to keep you away from the rock wall so you wouldn’t be seen.” With a sigh, she unfastened the watch. “I cannot let this be seen, either.”
“Hide it if you must, but please accept it.”
She glanced up at him.
“Accept me.”
Her heart stilled. “I-it is not possible. You must know they will kill you if they find you here.”
“I’ll stay in Frederic’s cabin.”
“I fear even that is not safe.” She slipped the watch into the linen pouch that dangled from the sash tied around her waist. “You know too much.”
“Frederic must have known. He was allowed to live here.”
“He was the only one.” Neona glanced downhill at the burial mounds. “Calliope begged for him on her knees.”
“How did she meet him?”
“It’s a long story.”
“We have all night.” Zoltan sat on the ground and patted the spot next to him.
She glanced around one more time. Perhaps it was safe here. The others would never believe that he’d managed to sneak past the guard. She sat next to him, her legs crossed, while he stretched his long legs out in front of him and rested back on his elbows. The ground was soft with a thick cushion of dried pine and fir needles.
She told the story of Calliope and Frederic, carefully avoiding any references to the women’s sacred duty.
“I’m sorry I never got to meet her,” Zoltan said. “She sounds very brave.”
“She was.” Neona pointed at the burial mound on the far right. “That is Calliope’s grave there.”
He sat up so he could see the mounds. “Which one belongs to your sister?”
Neona swallowed hard. “Third from the right.”
“I wish I could have met her, too. Who are the others?”
She gave him a dubious look. “You really want to know?”
“Yes. This is your life, and I want to share it with you.”
Her eyes misted with tears. “The other mounds belong to those who died in battle two weeks ago. Actually, almost three weeks now. It’s been five days since we met.”
He nodded. “Five glorious days.”
She gave him a wistful smile, then gestured toward the burial mounds. “Next to Calliope is her oldest daughter, Farah. Farah’s father was a Persian soldier. She was . . . a bit older than Winifred and Freya.”
“A few centuries older?”
After a pause, Neona nodded. He already knew, so there was hardly any point in lying. “Next to Farah is my sister, Minerva. The next two are Lydia’s daughters. Pema’s father was Tibetan, and Mahima’s father was Indian. The last grave is Lydia’s mother, Anjali.”
Zoltan grimaced. “Lydia must be heartbroken.”
“Yes.” A tear rolled down Neona’s cheek. “She has one daughter left, Tashi.”
“What happens if one of you gives birth to a son?”
Neona sighed. “It happened to Calliope, and once to my sister.”
Zoltan turned to face her. “Then you have a nephew? Where is he?”
“The queen took him to the Buddhist monastery about thirty miles from here. He should be about seven years old now.”
Zoltan gave her an incredulous look. “The queen is his grandmother. How could she give him away? What harm could a child possibly bring to you here?”