“Ryu cares for you, I know that,” he said, reluctantly. “But you must understand that his position and his ambition make him…” He paused. “Not untrustworthy, in the sense that he would intentionally harm you. But dangerous, nonetheless. Until we know what Jarl’s attack means, we must keep it to ourselves. Please, you must trust me.”
Our faces were inches apart, and his eyes were so earnest that I paused. Mentally, however, I was scrambling, ready to come to my man’s defense. Of course I had to tell Ryu what had happened here, tonight. He was Ryu, fercrissakes.
But before I could articulate my feelings, we were interrupted.
“Oh my gods, Jane,” barked a familiar voice, and my heart lurched. I pushed myself up against the wall, rising painfully to my feet. “Thank heavens you’re all right,” Ryu babbled happily, till his eyes lit on Anyan. He stopped dead in his tracks.
“Ryu,” I sobbed, suddenly more than ready to have that good cry I’d been verging on earlier. I managed to stand and made my way over to him, where he folded me in his arms.
I buried my face in his chest and breathed him in, clinging to him like a barnacle. He did smell a bit foul, actually—but underneath the blood and the sweat was the familiar scent of Ryu.
He caressed the back of my neck and his lips pressed against my forehead. “What happened?” he asked. “Why is Anyan Barghest here?”
I opened my mouth, ready to tell him everything. About Wally and his arm, about the spriggans and their possible treachery, about Nyx and the eyeball, and, most important, about Jarl and his attack on me.
But for some reason I paused, just for a moment, and looked back. Anyan had stood up and moved away from us. He was nearly out of the little gate that led to the pool. I met his eyes, recalling the sound of human body parts hitting the floor as they were dumped from a sack. I shuddered, finally understanding what he’d been trying to tell me. I trusted Ryu, I really did. And I knew that he wouldn’t stand to see me hurt.
I turned back to my lover, who was watching the barghest with a decidedly unfriendly expression. I noticed Ryu’s cheek was already healed. “I don’t really know,” I said, finally. “I must have gotten hit on the head, or something. When I woke up I was out here, with Anyan. He healed me,” I added, lamely, as I heard the soft snick of a gate closing behind me.
Ryu looked into my eyes, frowning. At long last, he shook his head and said, “Okay, Jane. As long as you’re safe, I’m happy.” His arms were back around me and I relaxed into his hard embrace. Better late than never, I understood Anyan’s words. Ryu cared for me, and he took his job seriously. If I told him what Jarl had done, he’d investigate. And right now, with no evidence beside a half-human’s testimony, Jarl would squash Ryu like a bug, I thought, as I wiped my nose on his shirt. I was snotty from crying and he was already filthy. It wasn’t ideal but he was holding me so tight I couldn’t move my arms.
“Did you just wipe your nose on me?” he asked, finally. His voice was tight with various emotions, but “oh no you didn’t” had clawed its way to the top of the list.
“Maybe,” I mumbled, peering up at him.
“Oh Jane,” he said, pulling a handkerchief from his back pocket. With which he wiped his already filthy shirt and then my nose. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Take me home?” I suggested, hopefully.
“Of course,” he said, although his eyes were sad. “I promised, didn’t I? But first, I’ll take you to bed.” After wiping my nose again to be on the safe side, he picked me up to carry me inside. Holding me tight to his chest, he covered my face with butterfly kisses. He was still limping slightly but I figured if he could handle my weight I’d let him. I wasn’t in too good shape at this point, either. “I was so scared when I couldn’t find you,” he said, eventually.
“I was scared, too,” I said, very truthfully.
“I’m sorry everything turned out the way it has. This was not how I imagined introducing you to Alfar society.”
“I know, Ryu. I know.” Then I remembered something. “Did you kill Jimmu?” I asked, rather surprised at how matter of fact I sounded.
“Oh, yes,” Ryu said, grinning at me fang-tastically. “But he was being very obstreperous about it,” he added. “He just wouldn’t cooperate and die.”
“Hmm. Well, that’s good. That Jimmu’s dead, I mean. Oh, and you should have seen what I saw Wally do,” I added, starting in on an edited version of my evening’s surprises. Just because I couldn’t tell him everything didn’t mean I couldn’t tell him some things.
When I was done telling him about Wally’s arm, and what I’d seen Nyx do to the naga, we were back at our room. I had to give Nyx credit. She might be a bitch, but she was definitely hard-core.
We didn’t talk much after that, at least not verbally. Despite everything that had happened, or probably because of everything that had happened, I found my body had a lot more to say than I thought it would. Despite its exhaustion, it wanted to converse about life, and mortality, and fear, and pain, and love, and pleasure. Especially pleasure.
Luckily for me, Ryu’s body was more than happy to join with mine in a dialogue that lasted until we were both too tired to speak, either literally or figuratively.
If I’d known discourse could be this fun, I thought, as I fell asleep in Ryu’s arms, I would have joined the debate team…
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Daddy!” I shouted, racing to hug him.
That he was surprised to see me getting out of the back of a Mercedes was an understatement. Equally surprising was the vehemence with which I greeted him.
“Are you all right, Jane?” he asked, his voice concerned. “What happened?”
I choked back my overwhelming sense of relief at seeing my dad, and my home, setting a bright smile in its place. “Oh, everything is fine, Dad,” I said, when I could finally trust myself to speak. The driver had removed my bags from the back of the car, setting them on our front porch, before quietly motoring off.
“Why didn’t Ryu drive you back?” he asked, his voice suspicious.
“Oh, something came up. But don’t worry, Ryu was great. The trip was great.” I paused, collecting myself. “Seriously, Dad, everything was fine and Ryu could not have treated me any better, honestly. But he had to stay in Québec for business so he sent me home in a car. This ride was more comfortable than his, anyway.”
My father kept staring at me, as if he wanted to ask me more, until it was my turn to grow suspicious. How much did he know about my mother and her world? I wondered. He must have known something was up, but I didn’t know just how much something entailed.
“Dad?” I asked, gently. “Is there anything you want to ask me?”
He started, drawing away from me. He began to say something, and his jaw worked helplessly for a few seconds before he stopped. This happened again a few moments later.
Then he shook his head. “No, Jane,” he said, finally. “There’s nothing I want to ask you.”
I couldn’t help but feel disappointed. I certainly hadn’t planned on confronting my father with the truth of my mother’s existence, but now that I had the chance I realized I wished that I could tell him. But if he didn’t want to know, I didn’t want to force the truth upon him. My father had already suffered his share of betrayal.
I rummaged around and eventually found a smile for him. He returned it, relieved. “So, what did I miss?” I asked, changing the subject. He took the bait, and started telling me what had happened while I was away. Which wasn’t much. But, being my dad and me, we made it into enough to get us through.
After we’d caught up and had an early dinner, I went upstairs to unpack. But first I lay down on my childhood bed, never so happy to be home in my life. I love you, Rockabill, I thought, surprised at how profoundly I meant it. Stuart and Linda would never look so scary again, ever. Not after twenty-foot snake people, minotaurs, and everything else I’d seen that weekend.
The morning after the battle had been horrible. Luckily, everyone I’d come to know in the Compound—except for Jimmu, obviously—was safe. Wally was apparently impervious to most forms of death, so he was fine. And Orin and Morrigan had never been in any real danger, as none of their people had let anything get close to them. As for Elspeth, she’d not even been in the main hall at the time—she’d absconded with one of the nahual acrobats that had performed at the previous evening’s dinner. They’d all been exceptionally bendy, and I reckoned she was a lucky woman—or tree—on a number of levels. Then again, I thought, thinking of Elspeth’s strange suppleness, maybe the nahual was the lucky one—she is awfully limber for timber. Then I laughed at my own joke, because I’m a dork.
But my friends’ safety was about the only good news. The death toll was frighteningly high, especially considering how there were so few young ones to take their parents’ places in the community. Besides the nine nagas, there had been twenty-three creatures hurt too badly to be saved. I gathered from people’s reactions that it was a tremendous blow to the Territory, and it obviously took a huge personal toll on the loved ones of those who died.