Haunted (5 page)

“We’re being followed, I think,” she said softly.

Shayne gave no indication whatsoever that he’d heard.
 

“Walk next to the buildings with me.” He looped an arm around her waist, drawing her close. “What did you see?” he whispered, not looking at her.

“Nothing,” she said. “But someone’s watching. I know it.”

He checked left and right without moving his head.

“All right. Just stay close. I want my hands free in case I need them.”
 

He let her go.

For several blocks they walked in silence. Gillian was aware of Shayne listening intently, his senses on alert. But there was no sign of anyone––except for them.

Up ahead, a building was beginning to loom large. In another few blocks, it was clear it dwarfed the others. When they drew close enough and could judge its true size, Shayne whistled.

“It has to be–” Shayne started.

“The palace,” Gillian finished.

It was incredible, like a giant wedding cake rising up five stories. The edges of each level were intricately scalloped, with delicate, pointed turrets, evenly spaced. Glass windows of all shapes and colors decorated the sides of each level. An occasional balcony jutted out, without any visible supports.

The balcony.

What did that remind her of?

“It’s open,” Shayne said.

Surrounding the entire palace was a magnificent, marble wall, one story tall. The grand wooden gates, gilded with silver scrolls, stood ajar. As he pulled her through, the first thing that hit Gillian was the smell. Heady and sweet, it was a garden in full bloom.

“All of the trees here are fruit trees,” Shayne remarked with surprise. “And unless I miss my guess, most of the plants are edible as well.”

Gillian picked a ripe plum from one of the trees they passed. The smell was intoxicating. When she bit into it, careful to keep the juice from her gloves. She could barely stop herself from moaning at the ripe, melt-in-your-mouth flesh. But at the center of a flower bed of white lilies, there stood the sculpture of a young woman crowned with flowers. Though they passed it silently, Gillian was no longer surprised to see another statue with her face.

At the palace itself, the great arched doorway was open as well. In fact, as they wandered through the empty, marbled corridors, she realized none of the doors were closed. Once again, it struck Gillian that there were people just around the corner, people who would come back to their rooms. She felt welcome here the way she had not felt welcome anywhere else. Something here made her feel at peace.

But for some reason, it only made Shayne more tense. When Gillian touched his hand, he jerked and nearly rounded on her.

“Sorry,” he said quickly. “Something about this place gives me the creeps.”

“Really? I find it comforting somehow,” Gillian said. “I mean, maybe it’s the idea that we’ve lived before.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. That once upon a time, I think we loved each other.”

Shayne was still for a long time. Despite everything they’d done and been through together, they’d never really professed love. When Shayne only looked at the ground, there was a brief stab of hurt in Gillian’s chest. But she couldn’t dwell on it. She wouldn’t. Not in this amazing place.

She took his hand and gently squeezed. Startled, he looked up and smiled.

The more they saw of the palace, the more of a marvel it appeared. It was full of light from high, clear-story windows and skylights. There was a feeling of airiness to the place that was positively soothing.

When they came around a corner, Gillian glimpsed herself in a polished bronze mirror. The outlandish Turkish clothes startled her. Somehow she’d expected a white gown. Her shoulders ought to be bare. But as the image moved behind her, Gillian glanced back.

She had never worn a white gown in her life. With a sudden jolt of fear, she realized how comfortable she was here––too comfortable. With everything that had gone on, everything it took to get here, she was too at ease. Was that the trap? For her to feel as though she were meant to stay? She shook her head. She needed to focus.

They passed an armory, full of swords and pikes. Though Shayne slowed as he looked in, he didn’t stop. There was a beautiful room with frescoes of outdoor scenes that surrounded several reclining couches. They were covered in luxurious throws and plush pillows. It’d be the perfect place to take a nap. There was a room with a desk that had a dozen small drawers. Someone had started writing on a curling piece of birch bark on the blotter. They had propped their quill pen on it carelessly. The ink still looked wet. Gillian suppressed a chill.

They wound their way further and further into the labyrinthine building. But just as Gillian was going to suggest they look elsewhere for the portal, they rounded one final corner. At the end of the short, broad corridor there was sunlight. The last slanting rays of the late afternoon cast a soft orange glow, lighting the hugest piece of carved marble Gillian had ever seen.

“This is it,” Shayne said, sounding as sure as she felt.

It was breathtaking, a solid stone cylinder that soared toward the sky, which they could see. The center of the palace, all five layers, was completely open. For a few moments, all they could do was gape. The different stories of the palace had openings that looked down on the portal. But as they slowly circled it, gazing up, Gillian’s sense of wonder gave way to one of frustration. They circled around it for what seemed like a mile, passing more corridors.

“What kind of portal doesn’t have a door?” Shayne said.

But as they finally returned to the spot where they’d started, it was clear that it was solid. There was, indeed, no door.

“How did the people of Tenebris even open this damned thing?” he said.

“Earth-attuned Wiccans perhaps?” Gillian said. “That’s what I would use. One or two stationed at this wall, or dispatched when they were needed.”

“There wasn’t anything like this to prevent us from getting into Tenebris.”

She ran her glove over the smooth surface. “Perhaps they didn’t want everyone to be able to leave,” she said softly, thinking of the slave market.

Shayne pounded it with his fist. “It’s in there,” he muttered. “I know it is. Maybe we missed something, some sort of switch or hidden symbol.”

So they went around again. But as the light faded from the sky in the opening above them, it was clear they hadn’t missed anything. They returned again to where they’d started.

“There’s got to be a way to open it,” Gillian muttered.

“There is,” Shayne said, sounding so sure that she looked at him. “But we won’t be finding it today.” He checked the sky. “It’ll be dark soon.”

Without him saying it, she understood. How the city would change overnight, they couldn’t predict. But they probably didn’t want to be next to the portal. Gillian glanced back down the short corridor. The stables were a long way away. The most sensible and comfortable thing to do would have been to sleep in one of the palace’s bedrooms, but just the thought made Gillian shiver.

“I have an idea,” Shayne said.

As they backtracked to some of the rooms they’d passed, he gathered pillows and throws from the reclining couches they’d seen. Then he led her to what looked like a small library and closed the door. Every shelf on every wall overflowed with scrolls. Magnifying glasses of different sizes lay on top of some. Two wood tables with two chairs each occupied the center. Shayne moved them apart. Under the glow of a single fireball, he made up a bed on the floor. She took the remaining bread and plums from her tunic pockets and passed them to Shayne, before gratefully collapsing on the bedding. He sat cross-legged in front of her.

“You should eat,” he said, tearing the bread in two and taking a bite.

He held a small piece out to her. She got up on one elbow and reached for it, but he kept it out of her reach. With an arch of his eyebrows, he opened his mouth, and pointedly looked at hers.

He was going to feed her.

Still propped up, she rested her head on her hand, and opened her mouth. With a little grin, he gave her the piece of bread, and her lips lightly brushed his fingertips.

“I could so get used to this,” she said, after swallowing.

“Be careful what you wish for,” he said, smiling.

Though they both ate for a little while longer, it turned out that neither of them was that hungry. The gloom of the growing evening, the awakening city, and the impenetrable portal seemed to have left them both at loose ends.

Eventually Shayne stretched out next to her, and she curled into his side.

“Shayne, does it frighten you that we may have lived before?”

He was silent for a long time. She kept still, thinking he must have fallen asleep.

“I don’t know,” he said quietly. “Not really. I hope that I lived well in the past. I hope I honored those who loved me, and that I protected them.”

“Are you…jealous of what Mathias and I supposedly had? Or maybe I should say Galia and Mina.”

Shayne snorted. “I’m not exactly jealous of a homicidal lover, no.”

Gillian wrapped her arms around Shayne, hugging him tightly.

“I loved you once, I know that. I loved Mina too. I think there’s a good chance we loved each other, and that ended in disaster.”

Shayne held her close.

“I’m not going to let that happen,” he said. “I don’t care what came before, or what needs to happen to get us out of here. We’re going to be all right.”

Gillian nodded.

“Of course we will,” she murmured.

But she had the horrible feeling that, somewhere in the past, she’d said that very thing.

GILLIAN WASN’T SURPRISED when she dreamed.

“Have you not figured it out yet?” Mina asked.

Gillian sat next to her at a desk. There were maps on the table in front of them. She recognized landforms that would eventually be known as Europe and Asia, but which now had strange names. Some of the continent was colored with red ink.

“I’m not as clever as you are,” Gillian said. “Why don’t you tell me all about it.”

Mina laughed, reaching over to comb her fingers through Gillian’s hair. Gillian ducked away. She wasn’t sure how she felt about the beautiful woman. A part of her yearned for Mina, beyond all reason, because another part was also afraid.

Mina shrugged and turned back to the map. She pointed at a spot that Gillian thought might be Russia.

“That’s where you came from,” Mina said. “You were still so small when I met you, but you had the best stories about houses that hopped on one leg, and about princes that turned river witches into princesses.” She pointed at the Scandinavian countries. “This is where I came from. I thought I was in the realm of fire when the sun burned so hot and so bright.” Her hand fisted. “I don’t know where
he
came from, but he was just like us. Chattel. Something fit for the pits or to be some nobleman’s plaything.”

“What was his name?” Gillian asked, her stomach knotting.

Mina shook her head, glaring at Gillian.

“You always cared about him most,” she said accusing, but there was a tiredness to it. Even to Gillian’s ears, it sounded like an old, old argument.

“I’m not her,” Gillian said. “I’m not Galia.”

Mina stared at her. There was something in Mina’s gaze that would kill men for daring to look at her wrong. Finally she sighed.

“I know. And I’m not Mina anymore, not really, I don’t think.”

Gillian bit her lip. “What are you?” she asked softly.

“A memory. I will still battle to my death and beyond it, and I will not rest while you are still wandering.”

A sudden stab of pity for Mina overwhelmed Gillian. She might be only a memory, but it was clear that she still loved, still hated, and above all, she still needed
.

“Can’t you help us?” Gillian asked. “Can’t you do that? We need to get out of here.”

Mina looked at her, as if Gillian hadn’t spoken at all.

“Will you love me?” Mina asked. “Will you stay with me for all our born days, until the skies fall down and the sea rises to meet us?”

The words struck a deep chord in Gillian. In some way she couldn’t fathom, she longed to say ‘yes.’ But that would be a lie.

“I can’t,” she said, her voice strained. “I wish I could, but I can’t.”

Mina’s laugh was a little wild. “Now I can see that my Galia is dead and gone,” she said. “Now I can see that there is nothing left for me but the city.”

For a terrible moment, Gillian thought that Mina might pull out her sword and kill her or, worse, kill herself. Instead, Mina gracefully got up and walked away.

“What are we supposed to do?” Gillian asked, her voice tinged with the desperation that welled in her chest. “We can’t stay here.”

From the doorway, Mina shook her head. “I have no idea how to help you. As the city awakens, you may find that there are those who do.” Her laugh turned dark. “But be careful, lover who is not my lover. Be very careful.” She closed the door behind her.

Gillian slumped at the desk. Bleak despair filled her, not just at being trapped, but also how easy it seemed for Mina to leave her. For the first time it occurred to her that she and Shayne might actually die here.

There were voices in the hallway.

“…need to see her, Mina.”

“It’s not her. You should go back to sleep. I should as well. There is nothing for us here, and whatever we decide to do, she has no answers for us.”

“I don’t care. I woke up. Get out of my way, Mina.”

“By all the kingdoms, you are willful. No. Stop this. You’ll only do yourself ill being here.”

There was the sound of a scuffle. Gillian raced to the door and threw it open.

But Mina lurched forward, pushing her back. With a cry, Gillian fell to the floor, as the door slammed shut. Though she scrambled up and lunged at it, the knob was locked. She shook it with all her might, but it wouldn’t come undone. All around her, the room flared brighter. She stumbled back from the door and looked up. The skylight revealed a sky of purple, shot through with beams of light. But as she watched, it turned a hellish orange and then red. People in the distance were shrieking. They sounded terrified.