It was time. Overhead the full moon shot muted rainbows through the ceiling. Fand was ready. This night Angs would plant his seed in her and if all went well that seed would take root. She looked at herself in the long mirror Kerzee had provided for her. The sheer white dress was lovely. It accentuated her every curve. Angs would like it. Angs had been waiting for her as she had been waiting for him. After tonight, she would live with him up above. She too would become a creature of the night. Fand hugged herself. This was better than anything she had ever dreamed.
The panel in the wall slid open. Folgen was dressed in crisp dark robes. Trug stood beside him. He wore a uniform with gold stars. Dressed as he was he looked more human than beast and yet the sight of him unsettled Fand. The night of her capture flitted through her mind. She felt the terror and the pain, for only a moment, and then it dissolved.
Kerzee came out of the kitchen and said, "She is ready."
Folgen asked, "Where is Gruin?
Upon hearing her name, the female Sonpur entered the room holding her child. She was dressed in dark green velvet. Fand saw what looked like a smile twist Trug's features. Was this child his? There was a slight resemblance.
Folgen said, "It is time."
Kerzee urged Fand forward. Fand felt her heart leap up inside her. She was suddenly nervous and timid. She felt a furry hand grab her elbow. It was Gruin. Fand's eyes met the beast's. Their warm green light calmed Fand. Gruin was going with her. It would be all right.
The small processional made its way up the stairs. Kerzee stayed behind. Fand had never been in this room at night. Rainbow halos glistened on every shiny surface. The cold beauty of it overwhelmed her. Tears came to her eyes. Tonight would be more beautiful than any of her girlhood imaginations.
Folgen said, "Go to the throne, but do not sit down."
Fand did as she was instructed. Trug, Gruin and Folgen took chairs against the wall. Where they going to watch? Would they leave once Angs arrived? Surely, they would leave. She wanted to be alone with Angs. All alone. Agitated, she tugged her dove charm. An image flashed across her mind. Zog's dead body swinging. Who had killed him? Angs? Fand dropped the charm. Angs would not do that. It must have been Folgen or Trug. She would tell Angs of their sin and he would punish them.
The heavy wooden door slowly opened. Angs as she had never seen him, entered the room. All thoughts of anything but him evaporated from her mind. He wore a long belted robe with gold threads that glistened. The robe was low cut. His chest pulsated with ethereal light as he approached her. He was magnificent. Fand's breath caught in her throat. Angs smiled at her. The instant he touched her, Fand felt like she was drowning in warm milk. He pulled her to him. She was anxious for him to speak to her. In all their time together over the past few weeks he had never spoken. His hands followed the curves of her body. They were like fire against her skin. She wanted to consummate this relationship now.
Aware of her eagerness, Angs scooped her up. He placed her on the throne. He pressed his mouth against hers. His foul breath suffocated her. She tried to pull away. Her perfect dream disintegrated. Angs hands bit into her flesh. His mouth pressed harder against hers. Fear greater than she had never known paralyzed her.
All at once a searing pain shot down Fand's spine. At the nape of her neck the disc began to burn. Her body jerked backward pulling her from Angs grasp. The disc slid through her skin and locked itself into the hollow circle of the throne. She heard the disc turn. There was a soft whir and then the throne thrust skyward knocking Angs away. Fand looked up. The concave point of the spire rushed toward her. She was going to crash against it and be killed. The air spun around her in swirling violent gusts. She closed her eyes.
There was the sound of crystal shattering. The top of the throne burst through the spire. With a hard jerk the throne stopped above the dome. Fand opened her eyes. Bright white moonlight blinded her. The throne tipped forward and dumped her out. Her face smacked hard against the surface of the dome. Warm blood filled her mouth. Below her she heard Angs scream with rage. The spire exploded with brilliant light. The dome trembled beneath her. Her body began to slip. With desperate fingers she tried to halt her descent. The surface was too slick. Faster and faster she slid toward the edge of the dome. Once again she closed her eyes. She felt herself falling. She braced herself to make contact with the earth. Human arms caught her up. A male voice said, "Well, that was much easier than I expected."
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For one brief moment, Fand thought the strong arms belonged to Zog. Zog had come to save her. But this man did not smell like Zog. His muscles were harder than Zog's. She opened her eyes hoping to be wrong. She was not. Even in the moonlight she could see this man was not Zog.
Still holding her, the man pressed Fand tightly against him. He turned and ran into the deep brush. His arms maneuvered Fand's body, careful not to snag her hair or her clothing in the hanging vines. He was swift. Swifter than she was when she ran. The jolts of his body shot pain through her. She must have broken something. Her mind twisted. She felt so funny.
The sky behind them detonated with violent orange light.
The man said, "Angs is not pleased."
At the mention of his name, Fand felt a sudden longing. She wanted to be with Angs. She had been waiting to be with Angs.
Why had this man taken her from her lover? All at once she felt the cold of the disc. It had returned to her. It shot ice down her spine. She remembered the kiss, the horrible kiss. It had smelled of death, had tasted of death. She pressed her face against the man's shoulder and closed her eyes. If only this were just a nightmare. The man's pace slowed and then he stopped. Fand opened her eyes. They were beside a moonlit river. A cargo boat swayed in the water. An old man stood on the prow of the boat. The man holding Fand jumped from the shore to the deck. The boat rocked wildly beneath them.
The old man said, "Keeper, Resen, she glows in the dark. That could be a problem."
Fand looked at her arms, at her body. She did indeed glow in the dark. Her skin glowed right through her sheer dress. Shame and fear filled her.
"Aye," the one called Resen said. "It's the stuff they been giving her. Brings her angel blood to the surface, I'm told."
The old man shook his head. "Never seen the likes of it afore." Neither had Fand. What had Kerzee been giving her? Just that tea.
The old man led them down the hatch into the cargo space. Its ceiling was low and the sides were stacked with barrels of ale. Resen put Fand down. He kept one arm around her to keep her steady. The smell of ale filled the small space nauseating Fand. She put her hand to her mouth. The blood on her face was beginning to clot and dry.
Resen said, "Grinwal, hand me my pack.”
The old man tossed him a pack. Resen took out a dark brown long sleeved tunic, a pair of britches and suede boots. He said, "Put those on. We need to throw everything you are wearing overboard. It is a good thing it has blood on it. Trug will think the Wasserstime have eaten Angs' concubine." Wasserstime, was that another monster that lived in this strange place? Resen asked, "Are you steady enough to change?"
Even though she felt unsteady she nodded. He let go of her. He and Grinwal exited through the hatch. Fand ripped off the blood stained dress. Her blood had caked along the neckline and shoulder. She kicked off the beaded slippers. Her hand went to the dove at her throat. She would not part with it. It had been her mother’s. The boat lurched, knocking Fand to the floor. They were moving. She pulled on the clothes and boots and then tucked her charm into the tunic. It was best to hide it.
From above Resen knocked and asked, "Are you decent?"
"Yes."
When he opened the hatch Fand was once again struck by his silhouette. He was built so much like Zog. He went to the curved side of the hull and pulled some boards back revealing a secret compartment. Grinwal must be a smuggler. He said, "Climb in."
Fand looked into the narrow space this man wanted to cram her into. She tried to gulp back her nausea. She shook her head. She hated tight places.
"You must. This is the only way. Please."
The word please, reached through her fear. The disc burned cool, steadying her. She crawled into the space.
"Press yourself against the side." Fand did as she was told. Resen slipped in behind her. This would never do, every inch of her made contact with him. She felt panic rise in her throat. Resen snapped the boards into place. It was so airless. Fand was sure she would be sick. Her hands and face illumined the darkness with a strange yellow glow. It reminded her of the light of firefly tails. She wanted out of this tiny place. She wanted to be out in the air. Her breath became ragged and fast. Her palms began to sweat. She couldn't breathe.
Resen whispered, "Match my breaths. Slow, now, in and out."
Fand could not breathe at all. Through clenched teeth she asked, "Who are you?"
"Resen. I'm a Pathfinder. Your Uncle Wert sent me to fetch you."
Not sure she heard right Fand asked, "Uncle Wert is alive?"
"Yes, he is and I am taking you to him."
Uncle Wert was alive! Praise the Keeper! She took in a slow breath and let it out as Resen let out his breath. She could do this thing. She must do this thing.