Read Online The Twelve Kingdoms: The Mark of the Tala by Jeffe Kennedy - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jeffe Kennedy
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in the corners shifted. Moved and seethed. The restless bodies of the wolfhounds churned in a dark swirl, tossing up the gleam of fangs, a flash of fulminous blue. The satin quilt shifted under my fingers like sand, whispering of blood and death. Someone laughed. Soft. Regular.
I was a child again, alone in this big bed, crying for my dead mother. No—that was Amelia wailing. Thin shrieks echoing through the castle. Coming closer. Her nurse carried her into the room and set the baby in my arms.
I tried to tell her no. No, keep the baby away from the dogs. But I couldn’t speak.
“You have to quiet her,” the nurse said. “Stop your weeping and care for your sister.”
Amelia’s enormous twilight eyes blinked at me. “I’m hungry,” the baby said. “Feed me.”
My breasts were a flat child’s. I had no milk.
She screamed at me. “Feed me!”
I tried to shush her, but the dogs had heard the cries. They surged up, with barks and growls, fangs tearing at the infant blanket. I held the baby tight against me. White teeth sank into my arm, shredding my flesh.
“Rayfe!” I cried, finding my voice. “Help, oh, please!”
Why I called out to my enemy to save me, I didn’t understand. But, in the way of dreams, it was my only path.
A whispered word and they were gone.
The infant, who both was and wasn’t Amelia, the wolfhounds, the giant black bird, all gone. Only Rayfe remained.
He stood by my bed. His black hair spilled loose over his shoulders, his midnight gaze on me, his face grave.
“Beautiful Andromeda—don’t be afraid. I’m here.”
He sat beside me and stroked a finger down my cheek. It felt real and warm and I wanted to lean my cheek into his palm, for comfort.
“You’re not real,” I whispered, willing myself to wake up.
“I am real. The other things are not. They’re just . . . fragments tossed up by your mind because of the changes in you. I would spare you this pain, but I cannot. Let me soothe you.”
He ran a hand over my hair and his scent wrapped around me, warm, enticing.
“I apologize, Princess, for this morning. I bungled things. I thought once our blood mingled, you would understand. Come to me and I’ll make it all up to you. You need to. It’s your destiny. Neither of us can change that.”
“I cannot. I never will.” I clung to the covers, as if I could keep from being dragged away. “This is my home, my people.”
His fingers twined in my hair, possessive, impatient. Tugging me close. For a moment I thought he’d kiss me, and my heart pounded in fear and elation. “Your true people await you. Your home is Annfwn and it needs you. Won’t you see? You only wound us all by resisting.”
He turned, showing me the dagger that stood out from his muscled shoulder, blood soaking his sleeve dark.
“You injured me, Andromeda. Won’t you take it back?”
He took my hand, unfolded my fist, stroking my open palm, and wrapped my fingers around the hilt of the knife. It filled my hand, hard and hot with his blood. I cringed. It had seemed so right at the time.
“I was defending myself.”
“I know. It was my fault for frightening you. But now I need you to pull it out.”
“I can’t.”
“You must.”
“Have someone else do it.”
“Don’t you understand yet, my Andromeda? It has to be you. No one else can. I need you. Annfwn needs you.
“Please.” He whispered the words, insidious. “Please, Andromeda, do this for me.”
I tried. I tugged, but the dagger wouldn’t come free. It was stuck, deep in the bone. Rayfe threw his head back, howling out a scream of agony, and I snatched my hand away.
He was gone. I sat alone in bed, the fire cold, dawn barely lighting the sky from black to dark blue. The dim light, though, was enough to see the blood covering my hand. Feeling sick and sorry, I dashed to the washbasin, stumbling a little in my haste, and scrubbed my hands in the chilly water until they gleamed white and stainless.
If only I could do the
I was a child again, alone in this big bed, crying for my dead mother. No—that was Amelia wailing. Thin shrieks echoing through the castle. Coming closer. Her nurse carried her into the room and set the baby in my arms.
I tried to tell her no. No, keep the baby away from the dogs. But I couldn’t speak.
“You have to quiet her,” the nurse said. “Stop your weeping and care for your sister.”
Amelia’s enormous twilight eyes blinked at me. “I’m hungry,” the baby said. “Feed me.”
My breasts were a flat child’s. I had no milk.
She screamed at me. “Feed me!”
I tried to shush her, but the dogs had heard the cries. They surged up, with barks and growls, fangs tearing at the infant blanket. I held the baby tight against me. White teeth sank into my arm, shredding my flesh.
“Rayfe!” I cried, finding my voice. “Help, oh, please!”
Why I called out to my enemy to save me, I didn’t understand. But, in the way of dreams, it was my only path.
A whispered word and they were gone.
The infant, who both was and wasn’t Amelia, the wolfhounds, the giant black bird, all gone. Only Rayfe remained.
He stood by my bed. His black hair spilled loose over his shoulders, his midnight gaze on me, his face grave.
“Beautiful Andromeda—don’t be afraid. I’m here.”
He sat beside me and stroked a finger down my cheek. It felt real and warm and I wanted to lean my cheek into his palm, for comfort.
“You’re not real,” I whispered, willing myself to wake up.
“I am real. The other things are not. They’re just . . . fragments tossed up by your mind because of the changes in you. I would spare you this pain, but I cannot. Let me soothe you.”
He ran a hand over my hair and his scent wrapped around me, warm, enticing.
“I apologize, Princess, for this morning. I bungled things. I thought once our blood mingled, you would understand. Come to me and I’ll make it all up to you. You need to. It’s your destiny. Neither of us can change that.”
“I cannot. I never will.” I clung to the covers, as if I could keep from being dragged away. “This is my home, my people.”
His fingers twined in my hair, possessive, impatient. Tugging me close. For a moment I thought he’d kiss me, and my heart pounded in fear and elation. “Your true people await you. Your home is Annfwn and it needs you. Won’t you see? You only wound us all by resisting.”
He turned, showing me the dagger that stood out from his muscled shoulder, blood soaking his sleeve dark.
“You injured me, Andromeda. Won’t you take it back?”
He took my hand, unfolded my fist, stroking my open palm, and wrapped my fingers around the hilt of the knife. It filled my hand, hard and hot with his blood. I cringed. It had seemed so right at the time.
“I was defending myself.”
“I know. It was my fault for frightening you. But now I need you to pull it out.”
“I can’t.”
“You must.”
“Have someone else do it.”
“Don’t you understand yet, my Andromeda? It has to be you. No one else can. I need you. Annfwn needs you.
“Please.” He whispered the words, insidious. “Please, Andromeda, do this for me.”
I tried. I tugged, but the dagger wouldn’t come free. It was stuck, deep in the bone. Rayfe threw his head back, howling out a scream of agony, and I snatched my hand away.
He was gone. I sat alone in bed, the fire cold, dawn barely lighting the sky from black to dark blue. The dim light, though, was enough to see the blood covering my hand. Feeling sick and sorry, I dashed to the washbasin, stumbling a little in my haste, and scrubbed my hands in the chilly water until they gleamed white and stainless.
If only I could do the
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