Tempest Rising (Jane True #1) - Page 36/56

This time when he drew me toward the steep ascent separating us from the intricately decorated and incredibly imposing front entrance, I followed willingly. I reminded myself to breathe, as we climbed, glad that I’d had the foresight to swathe my heels in Band-Aids. If I survived this weekend in one piece it’d be a pleasant surprise; if my feet survived these shoes, it’d be a miracle.

The doors swept open before us as we walked into a beautiful front hall. I was trying to take everything in, but it was too much. There was so much light that it overwhelmed my first impressions. My eyes were dazzled; little flickering mage lights and enormous, man-sized candles vied with each other for dominance, while the vaulted ceiling itself appeared to be glowing as if, rather than a dreary November day, a brilliant summer sun was shining through the skylights. My vision was once again on the defensive, struggling to adjust, while Ryu led me forward into the depths of the Compound.

Another imposing set of doors—although these were more delicate, less obviously defensive—separated us from our goal. And now that my eyes had gotten used to the light, I could see why it was so blinding. The front hall of the Compound was built entirely of white marble and mirrors—there wasn’t a single drop of color except for four brilliant mosaics. Two were on either side wall and two flanked the very grand interior doors on the central wall. One was a green leaf, one a bright lick of flame, one a quivering drop of water, and the last a cleverly composed gust of wind. The four elements, I thought, peering around to admire the artistry involved in their creation.

We hadn’t yet seen a single soul. Nevertheless, I knew we were being watched. I could feel eyes on me as manifestly as if they were fingers brushing against my skin. My spine stiffened, pulling my small frame tight and pushing my shoulders back. My chin lifted defiantly and I saw Ryu glance at me approvingly, his golden eyes narrowed with anticipation.

As we strode the last few paces to the inner doors, they swung open and I caught my first glimpse of the Alfar Court. All eyes were upon us as, to my surprise, our arrival was announced.

“Ryu Baobhan Sith, Investigator,” a sonorous voice intoned. “Accompanied by Jane True.”

Ryu squeezed my elbow as I faltered, guiding me down the center of the long room toward what I could now see was a dais with two thrones. The beings sitting on those thrones pulsed with a power so tangible that I had to walk more purposefully—I was actually being physically repulsed by their strength.

In my peripheral vision, I caught glimpses of the other members of the Court. They were clustered about in small groups, some watching our procession with curiosity, others oblivious to anything except their own conversation. I couldn’t let myself be distracted—I was really having to concentrate on moving forward—but it was difficult to ignore the dazzling suggestions of color, flesh, scales, and fur tempting my gaze.

And you were worried the belt was overkill, my brain snickered, as I caught a glimpse of a voluptuous female form clad in very revealing and vaguely belly dancer-esque garb. Her tummy wobbled invitingly as she giggled, and I nearly veered off our carpeted path toward her. Something tells me that one is a succubus. And I wonder what else is here, I thought, my mental voice colored with an admixture of apprehension and anticipation.

As we neared the dais, Ryu dropped into a low bow beside me. Unsure of what to do, I mimicked his bow. Sensing him straighten, I followed suit.

The beings before me were as cold, still, and perfect as marble. No one would ever mistake them for humans. But, except for their obvious beauty and preternatural calm, they weren’t overtly odd. They were smaller than I had expected, although they were seated so it was hard to tell exactly how tall they were. I think I’d assumed they’d be giants.

We waited, their gaze heavy upon us, for what felt like forever. Finally, they spoke in unison, greeting first Ryu and then me. Their voices were low and I shivered at the power pulsing through their tone.

Ryu bowed again, so I went ahead and did the same, wondering if this was what church was like. The bowing made my belt cut into my stomach, so I hoped there wasn’t going to be much more genuflection involved in tonight’s activities.

I started, ever so slightly, as their heavy gaze swiveled from Ryu toward me. The woman spoke, alone, this time. “Jane,” echoed her strange, grave voice. She held her hand out toward me and I stepped forward to take it in mine, having no idea what to do with it once it was in my grasp. To my surprise, she shook, and after a second I shook back. We stood there shaking hands for at least half a minute, like two executives closing a deal.

“Is this not correct human behavior for a greeting?” she asked, smiling at me kindly.

“Oh, right, um, yes. It is, actually. Ma’am,” I stammered, totally at a loss for how to act.

She turned to her mate, unhurriedly. “She is sweet, Orin. Do you not think so?”

The male version of the woman turned his pale silver-eyed gaze toward me and I only just managed to stop myself trembling. The queen still had a hold of my hand, after all, and shuddering at the sight of her man was probably not the most tactful response.

He looked me up and down, his expression unchanged. “Lovely, my Queen,” he responded, eventually. His head swiveled slowly back to its original position and I nearly smirked. They’re not what I’d call hasty, I thought, as I watched the Queen take about five whole seconds to blink her heavily lashed eyes.

She finally let go of my hand, and her eyes traveled slowly back to Ryu. “You have caught yourself a prize, youngling,” she told him, her voice languorous. “She is so very human, and yet so open to the elements. You must be feeding well.”

My eyes bulged as I frowned at Ryu, who looked suddenly uncomfortable. His jaw worked as he tried to come up with some sort of response, until he finally gave up and nodded. “Yes, my Queen.”

I’ll give you a good feeding tonight, you turd, I thought, furious at the Queen’s casual reference to my caloric value. Am I just the supernatural version of an IHOP? I wondered. Cheap, cheerful, and complete with a side of pancakes?

“We have given you your usual quarters,” the queen told Ryu. “Enjoy your time with us, Jane,” she said, her eyes again meeting mine. “We welcome you as family.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” I managed to respond, while I thought something rude about the Addams Family.

Ryu and I bowed again, and he took my arm to lead me away from the dais. It was only then that I noticed the figure standing well behind the king and queen, partially hidden as he was by the curtained alcove in which he stood. He had the same silvery eyes as the Alfar monarchs, and the same silvery hair. But whereas theirs was long, his was cut short and combed forward like Caesar’s. The way he stared at me gave me a bad case of the screaming meemies. Unlike the emotionless, almost unseeing, gaze of Orin, this creature looked at me with eyes full of an emotion I knew well from long experience: contempt. A shiver trailed up my spine and I moved my hand to Ryu’s, forgetting for a second that I was miffed with him. His hand squeezed mine, encouragingly, and I managed a modicum of dignity as we walked back towards the main entrance.

All in all, and except for Mister Crazy Eyes behind the throne, I think that went rather well, I thought, proud of myself for bearing up under the pressure of being introduced into this utterly foreign Court.

You’re gonna get through this, I thought, suddenly feeling a wash of calm settle over me. It’s going to be okay.

And so, of course, my feet chose that moment to get tangled on a little bump in the carpet. I tripped, hard, nearly wiping out. It was only the fact that Ryu threw himself in front of me to catch me that I stayed upright. He was on one knee, steadying me, and I was almost aloft in his powerful arms.

If we’d gotten only a smattering of attention on our walk in, all eyes were upon us, now.

For a split second, I had the wild idea to tell Ryu to go ahead and hold me over his head, like Johnny does Baby in the climax of Dirty Dancing, but I managed to keep a lid on that suggestion.

With as much grace as I could muster, I withdrew from Ryu’s grasp. He was trying with all his might not to voice his mirth, but laughter was sparkling in his eyes. I shot him a dirty look, which very obviously did nothing to quell his amusement, although he did manage to appear the slightest bit sheepish as he stood.

I held my head up high as we traversed the short distance between ourselves and the inner doors. Ryu managed to keep it together until they clanged shut, but then his sharp laugh boomed out into the empty entry hall.

“You are so in trouble, buddy,” I started, as he looked up at me.

He was laughing so hard he was nearly crying, and I couldn’t help it. I started giggling, and the next thing I knew I was doubled over, laughing as hard as he was.

“Oh, Jane,” he laughed, picking me up and carrying me toward one of the myriad stairways cutting through the hall. “You really are precious.” He was still laughing, but there was the slightest hint of fang showing.

I nestled against his chest, suddenly tired. I yawned and he looked down at me.

“Wake up, Jane,” he gently admonished. “The night’s hardly even begun.”