Goddess of the Rose (20 page)

“Gii, I don't mean to complain, and I think this”—she hesitated, trying to think of the right word for the rectangle that had become a flowing, toga-like garment—“this dress is flattering and very feminine, but don't you have something else that's better suited to working in the garden?”

Gii straightened and gave Mikki a confused smile. “How could any garment be better suited than a chiton?”

“Well, it's an awful lot of material. Won't this”—she pointed at the length of golden fabric that hung gracefully to her feet—“just get in the way?”

“Not if you tuck it here and here.” Gii demonstrated tucking her own lovely mint-colored chiton up into her belt so her long, strong legs were left mostly bare. The Earth Elemental held out her arms. “Our arms are not hindered by cumbersome sleeves, but if you feel chilled, you can easily wrap your palla around your shoulders.”

“Palla?”

Gii wrinkled her forehead at her High Priestess. “Empousa, have you never before worn a chiton with a palla?”

With an effort, Mikki didn't shriek her frustration. “Gii, I explained to you last night that my old world is totally different. There I didn't know about priestesses or goddesses, and we don't dress anything like this. If I was going to work in the garden I would wear jeans”—here she mimicked stepping into a pair of pants—“and a short T-shirt that I'd pull over my head, and it would cover the top half of my body.”

Gii looked horrified. “I do not mean to speak ill of your old world, Priestess, but it sounds barbaric! Why would a priestess, or any woman, choose to dress in such an unflattering, uncomfortable manner?”

Mikki meant to say that she'd never thought of jeans as unflattering or uncomfortable, but her eyes were caught by her reflection in the full-length mirror and the words stopped before she could form them. She looked like a queen from an ancient world. She walked slowly forward, studying herself carefully. The fabric was soft and unbinding, feminine and alluring. She had nothing on under it to crawl up her butt or to bite into her shoulders and leave red marks at the end of the day. Compared to this outfit, a bra, panties, jeans and a T-shirt were barbaric and uncomfortable.

“Teach me about this, Gii. You called it a chiton?”

“Yes, Empousa. It can swathe the female form in almost endless ways, especially when you add a palla or various other types of mantles.” Taking a wide, soft brush from the vanity dresser, Gii fussed with Mikki's hair as she spoke, brushing it back and then tying it in place with a gold thread. “We believe our clothing should idealize a woman's body, rather than attempting to conceal its natural shape. Or bind it unnecessarily.”

“There's no doubt that it's beautiful, but can I work in it?”

“Shall we see, Empousa?”

Mikki took the amber-colored palla from where it lay like a spilled treasure across the end of her bed and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Absolutely.”

 

 

MIKKI knew something was wrong as soon as she approached the rose bed that had been planted so close to the stairs that led from her balcony that the roses brushed against the marble railing. It was the same sick feeling she'd had the night before, only this morning it was far stronger. Her stomach clenched, and she had to fight a bizarre impulse to be sick. The smile that had lit her face when she recognized the Old Garden Rose, Blush Noisette, faded along with the color in her cheeks. The bed was large and the plants well spaced, but the closer she got to them, the more obvious it was that they were not as healthy as they had appeared to be from above. She hurried down the rest of the steps. She ignored the sick feeling that had hit her as soon as she approached the roses and left the marble path, ploughing directly into the bed, muttering under her breath while she touched leaves and lifted canes to get a better look at the heart of the plants.

“Empousa?”

“They look terrible!” Mikki said without pausing in her inspection. “The leaves are yellow and limp. The canes are spindly. The blossoms, which seem fine from a distance, are really undersized and several don't look like they're going to open at all. When's the last time they were fertilized?”

Mikki didn't look up from the roses until she realized that Gii wasn't answering her. The handmaiden was staring uncomfortably at her tightly clasped hands.

“Gii, what's the problem? I just asked when was the last time the roses were fertilized. It's something that should be done regularly enough that . . .” Mikki's words trailed off as she realized that Gii was becoming more and more obviously upset.

“The Empousa cares for the roses,” Gii blurted, without looking at Mikki.

“Are you telling me that for the entire time you've been without an Empousa no one's taken care of these roses?”

Gii finally lifted liquid eyes to Mikki. “It is the Empousa's sacred trust to care for the roses. Without their Empousa, Hecate bespelled them. They slept.”

Mikki's mind whirred. Nausea rose in her throat again, and she was hardly able to concentrate on what else Gii was saying.

“There was nothing we could do for them. The roses wouldn't respond to us. They had stopped blooming.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “We believed they were dying.”

“And none of you thought to mention this to me while we were frolicking around last night?” she cried, exasperated with herself for being so starry-eyed that she hadn't noticed how sick the seemingly beautiful gardens really were. And where the hell was her intuition last night? Today just getting near the beds made her feel like she was going to throw up her breakfast. Wait . . . maybe her intuition had been firmly intact. Last night she had just attributed it to nerves and lack of food, but she'd definitely been light-headed—her stomach had clenched and she'd felt sick. And then this morning she'd felt like she'd been beat up. It hadn't been because she was having a nervous breakdown or because she danced too much. Her body was reacting to the sickness in the roses.

Why hadn't Hecate warned her about the sorry state of her roses? Mikki frowned. What was it the goddess had said?
You should know that this realm has long been without its Empousa. The roses will need your care . . .

Need her care? Mikki let her eyes sweep over the beds nearest to her, recognizing more Old Garden varieties, Eglantine and LaVille de Bruxelles. She narrowed her eyes at them. They looked sickly as hell, too! They definitely needed a lot more than a little of her care.

“We thought all would be well now that you are here. We even knew the moment you arrived because the roses suddenly began to bloom again.”

“Gii, these roses aren't getting well. They're underdeveloped and anemic! And these pathetic things aren't normal blooms, they're . . . they're . . . they're more like final death throes than healthy blossoming.”

Then, as if Hecate was still standing beside her, she heard the goddess's voice replay through her mind.
The edges of the gardens are bound by a great wall of roses . . . The rose wall is what defines the boundaries between that world and ours . . . If the roses sicken, so, too, will this realm.
A chill swept through Mikki, and she felt the warning in it pound with her blood.

She had to call the Guardian.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“
G
II, do the roses in the rest of the realm all look like these?” The handmaiden nodded and then, sounding childlike, she repeated, “We thought everything would be well now that you are here.”

Mikki put on a smile she hoped didn't look too fake. “I think it will be, but it'll take some work. The first thing I want you to do is to gather all those women we were dancing with last night. Have them meet me at Hecate's Temple. And get the other three handmaidens, too.”

“Yes, Empousa.” Gii curtseyed and then hesitated before she turned away. “You do not come with me?”

“No, go on. I'll be at the temple soon. I have something I need to take care of here first.”

Gii flashed a relieved look at her before hurrying away. Mikki waited until the girl disappeared around the corner of the path that curved between two more beds of sick roses. Then she straightened her shoulders and walked purposefully back to the wide marble stairs that led to her balcony. Was she doing the right thing? She thought so. No, she knew so. When she'd realized how sick the roses were—
all
the roses were—she felt the unmistakable chill of danger deep within her.

Mikki climbed up two of the steps, stopped, reconsidered, and climbed up one more. There. That should make her tall enough.

She closed her eyes. Just as she had called Gii to her earlier, she called him. She thought about the strength of his body . . . the power in his voice . . . the care with which he had directed dinner be made ready for her . . . the slippers and the rosebud that floated in the crystal goblet . . .

“Guardian,” she said softly, “come to me.”

The air seemed to thicken and press with an angry hum against her skin.

“Why have you summoned me?”

For the length of one breath Mikki pressed her eyes more tightly closed.
These are my gardens now. He is a security guard. Think of him as nothing scarier than a difficult employee.
She opened her eyes.

He was standing only a few feet from her. How could any living creature be so massive? She'd been smart to move up that additional step. In the revealing light of morning he looked less manlike than he had the night before. He was dressed the same, in the short, military-looking tunic and leather breastplate, but the clothes seemed to extenuate the bestiality of his cloven-hoofed legs and horned head rather than dress him up as civilized . . . controllable. Mikki's mouth went dry, and she had to swallow twice before she could find her voice.

“I called you because Hecate told me that was what I should do if I thought the realm was in danger.” She had to fight to make herself speak, and the result was that her voice was unintentionally loud and angry. When the Guardian's black eyes widened in surprise, she decided that her new (albeit unintentional) firmness might be a good thing.

“What is the danger, Empousa?” he rumbled.

With an effort, she kept herself from biting nervously at her lip. “I don't know exactly. All I know is that the roses are sick, which means the rose wall that surrounds the garden is probably sick, too. My intuition tells me that possible weakness is somehow dangerous.” She held her breath, waiting for his snarl. Instead, he surprised her by bowing his head slightly to her.

“You were right to summon me, Empousa. I should not have questioned your authority. If the boundary between the worlds is weakened, I must guard against those who would use it as an opportunity to slip into our realm.”

“So as I try to heal the roses, I need to focus on the rose wall first?”

“That would be wise, Empousa.”

Mikki nodded and said, more to herself than to him, “That's what my gut was telling me. Good thing I listened.”

“Your gut?”

“Yeah,” she said hastily. “Hecate said I should follow my gut and I'd do the right thing.”

He snorted. “The goddess said
gut
?”

Was it possible his dark eyes were glittering with humor?

“That's not exactly how she put it.” Surprising herself, Mikki smiled at him. His eyes locked with hers, and Mikki could feel the sudden weight of his stare as if his look could bridge the space that separated them and touch her with its intensity. And she felt something else, something that she recognized from her dreams. Mikki felt the stir of desire. He was dangerous and frightening, but he was also a powerful, overwhelmingly masculine being. As in her dreams, she was drawn to him by a hot chain of fascination. Holding his dark gaze, she said, “Hecate told me to follow my instincts, and that's exactly what I intend to do.”

As if he had become tethered to her gaze, the Guardian moved to her until he stood near enough that he could easily touch her. “And what is it your instincts are telling you right now, Mikado?”

Mikki's breath caught. She could feel the heat from his body. Standing up several steps had brought her almost eye level with him, and she was, once again, struck by the impossible contrasts that made up his face . . . handsome and fascinating . . . bestial and dangerous.

Slowly, he lifted his hand and took a thick strand of her hair that had escaped from its golden tie between his thumb and forefinger. While Mikki stood frozen, he let her hair slip like water through his fingers. His deep voice rumbled intimately between them.

“Can you not speak, Mikado? Where is the brave priestess who commanded me into her presence? Is my nearness enough to frighten her away?”

“I'm frightened, but I'm not going anywhere,” she said resolutely and was pleased to see his eyes widen with surprise at her honesty. Purposefully mimicking his gesture, she reached up and touched a shiny length of dark mane that spilled over his shoulders.

As if her touch was an electric charge, the Guardian jerked back from her. His voice was raw and hoarse. “Have a care, Empousa. You might find the beast you awaken is not as tame as the roses that are yours to pet and pamper.” Then, with a growl, he whirled around, his hooves biting into the marble pathway. He was leaving, abruptly and without warning . . .

“Wait!” she yelled after him.

The great creature froze, his broad back turned to her. With a jerky motion his head swung so he glared over his shoulder.

She met his eyes again and could almost see herself reflected there—a weak, indecisive woman who, like an inexperienced young girl, had called him back to her without knowing for sure what she wanted to say.