Hostage (7 page)

“And maybe I’ll slap you silly and carry you back to your room. Get in the gods-damned chair.”

Astrin continued to look at him calmly, with the same thoughtful expression on his face. “Why do you hate me, Rowan? Why do you look at me as if you wish I were dead?”

Rowan panicked. Astrin was asking all the wrong questions. Rowan was afraid something would slip out and all hell would break loose. This Astrin was different from the one who had first opened his eyes. Gods, was that really only this morning? This Astrin was bright and perceptive, and Rowan couldn’t lie to him.

“I have to take you back to your room now, Astrin. It’s time for you to go to sleep.”

Astrin stared at him for a moment, a puzzled expression on his face. Rowan held his breath. Then a shutter fell and Astrin’s eyes went blank. Without another word, he got to his feet and sat in the chair, although he had far less trouble than before.

Astrin didn’t say a word all the way back to his room. When they got there, Rowan directed him to lie down, which he did without question or apparent thought.

Rowan found himself looking down into the large, empty eyes and feeling strangely uncomfortable. For some reason he didn’t like Astrin being so “switched off” all of a sudden. It wasn’t that he’d started to like him—
no way, not in any way
—but somehow he’d started to get used to him and this… wasn’t right.

Damn, he was getting soft. He had to keep in his mind what this boy represented. He was not going to go soft on him. This boy was living the life Rowan should have had, with parents who loved him. This boy was cared for and cherished by the very people who had ensured Rowan never would be.

Roughly Rowan tugged the sleeve of the pajamas up and connected the tube. It gave him a strange kind of satisfaction when it clicked into place. Still staring into Astrin’s face, he pressed the button on the pump, and within moments Astrin gave a little gasp, and his eyes fluttered before they rolled upward and closed, leaving Rowan feeling somehow disturbed.

He jumped, highly startled, when the door opened. Ragnor was smiling, somewhat smugly Rowan thought.

“How did it go?”

“It was awful. Just as I knew it would be.”

Ragnor smiled infuriatingly. “And why would that be?”

“Because he’s an insufferable little shit. All he did was ask questions, and at the end they were scary ones. I had to watch everything I said, and he was starting to tie me in knots.”

Finally the smile was wiped from Ragnor’s face as he scowled. “In what way?”

“Do you remember what I told him—that he’d done something awful, and that was why he didn’t remember?”

“Yes, unfortunately I do.”

“Melissa told him he hadn’t done anything. He went to sleep, and when he woke, he was different—clearer, more focused. He asked me which of us was telling the truth, or whether we both were.”

Ragnor swore softly. “What did you tell him?”

“Nothing. I didn’t know what to say, so I told him it was time to come back here and sleep, and he went completely blank.”

Ragnor relaxed and nodded. “At least that piece of conditioning works.” He sighed.

“What are you going to do?”

“That is none of your concern.”

“Are you going to hurt him?”

To his own surprise, Rowan found he didn’t want Astrin hurt anymore.

“Unfortunately, that is inevitable, especially as you are having such a hard time coping with him as he is now.”

“I… I’ll get the hang of it. I… don’t really want you to hurt him anymore.”

Ragnor smiled. “And why is that? Are you perhaps coming to see him as a person? Maybe even a nice one?”

Rowan frowned. “No, not a nice one. I will never forget who he is and what he represents. He’s living the life
I
should have had—the one where my parents tuck me up at night and I sleep without dreams. I hate him for that. But… he’s still only a boy and when… just now when I put him to sleep, he seemed…. I was…. It just didn’t seem right.”

Ragnor nodded and gripped Rowan by the shoulder. “That’s the prince I know and love, the strong man I can respect. Make no mistake, Rowan, what we are doing to him is wrong on so many levels. He doesn’t deserve it.”

“Then stop.”

“I’m afraid I can’t. My liege’s commands were quite clear. For at least three days, you and Astrin must spend time together, speaking to each other. Go now, Rowan, have dinner and spend the evening relaxing, doing something you really enjoy. Come back tomorrow at ten. I hope by then Astrin will be easier to control and will also be physically stronger so you can walk with him in the gardens.”

“In the gardens? What’s interesting there?”

“Then take him somewhere more interesting.”

“Like where? It’s not as if there is anywhere in the palace that’s exciting.”

“What about the games room? You can play something with him.”

“Play? With him? Like that? No.”

“Improvise, Rowan.” Ragnor was clearly getting irritated, and he gently but firmly steered Rowan out of the room, closing the door behind him.

As the day drew to a close, Rowan began to feel uneasy. He was well aware Astrin was going through something bad tonight, and that it was because of him. He was also uneasy about what would happen when he fell asleep, knowing he was going to have that dream again.

After dinner he went down to the gym and worked out as hard as he could. Stripping off his clothes down to his underpants, he threw himself harder and harder into the exercises until he was so exhausted that he could barely drag himself back to his room.

Once there he took a quick shower and, without even drying, collapsed onto the bed and fell into a deep sleep.

Rowan was deep in a dreamless sleep when the pictures began to play across his mind. At first they were gentle—memories of a more innocent time, when he’d been a child, playing in the gardens, hiding behind his sister’s skirts when visitors came, running after his uncle, and watching Ragnor work. Then, the child in the garden was older and his wanderings were less aimless and more sober. The steps dragged and tears ran from his eyes. He was lost—in more ways than one—lost.

But then there was someone with him, someone with pale hair and clear green eyes, someone who walked close beside him and rested his head on Rowan’s shoulder. Together, they walked toward the pool at the center of the formal garden. But suddenly an explosion rent the peace and they went tumbling back, seared by the blast. There were flames and pieces of twisted metal everywhere. Someone was in the middle of the flames, someone important, very important. He had to go to them. He had to rescue them.

Flinging himself forward, he reached his hands into the flames, reaching for them, reaching for… for…. The pain was unbelievable—the pain in his hands—in his head. Astrin screamed, and his voice was so close.

“Don’t go. I need you, Rowan. I need you. Please save me… save me… save me….”

Rowan sat bolt upright, shivering, with the echoes of the scream, the heartrending plea. “
Save me… save me.
”

For the first time ever, Rowan woke from the dream of burning metal thinking of someone other than his parents. Pale rays of predawn light were shining through his window, and he knew he’d not be able to go back to sleep. He was strangely restless and couldn’t even wait to dress, simply throwing on a pair of lounge pants before stepping out into the cool morning. The air was full of the sound of birds. Everything was still, cool, and fresh.

Rowan found his feet leading him toward the garden. He started to walk toward the central pool, but something was wrong, something was missing. He shivered and retraced his steps. It was strange, but suddenly he wanted to see Astrin. Once he’d allowed himself to acknowledge the thought, which had, in fact, been lingering in the back of his mind since he’d first opened his eyes, he became determined.

When he got to Astrin’s room, there was no one there. Rowan was ridiculously disappointed. The dream had disturbed him, and Astrin was in the dream, therefore things wouldn’t be right until Astrin was here.

He was startled by the opening of the door. Ragnor looked grim.

“Rowan, what are you doing here?”

“I—I had a dream. I couldn’t sleep and….”

“I’m sorry, Rowan. I’ve had a hard night. If you want to talk, you can come back later.”

“It… I didn’t come to see you.”

Ragnor looked at him askance. “You came to see Astrin?”

“I—I dreamed about him. He asked me to help him and… and I… I came.”

“Rowan….” Ragnor looked thoughtfully at him. “Would you join me for breakfast? There is something I would like to speak to you about.”

“What about Astrin?”

“That is what I want to talk about.”

“Is he all right?” For some reason Rowan was alarmed. Why the hell would he care? It was the dream… just the dream. The dream had rattled him, and because Astrin was in the dream….

“He is now.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Come to breakfast, then you may return. I suggest you make the most of today, because I cannot do that to Astrin again.”

Bursting with questions, Rowan followed Ragnor to the dining room. Rowan couldn’t eat. He watched Ragnor. He was serious, even severe, staring into the distance, chewing carefully.

“What happened?”

“It was too much for him. I should have realized the first night that he was in distress. I should have realized the procedure was hurting him so much more than was ever intended. I should have realized… but I didn’t. I did it again… and almost lost him.”

Even more alarmed Rowan asked, “What do you mean, ‘almost lost him’?”

“I thought the distress was internal, that it was a reaction sparking in his brain from the treatment. I didn’t consider there was a possibility of a physiological aspect. I didn’t realize he was fighting—physically fighting it, with everything he has, his entire being. That was why he was able to shake the conditioning as he did, but also why he was as ill as he was.

“Tonight he found some kind of inner strength, some kind of…. He fought so hard for so long. His heart couldn’t take it. He… I thought I had killed him. I thought he was dead.”

Rowan was appalled to see Ragnor’s hands shake. Ragnor was a rock. He was never uncertain. His hands never shook. He was Ragnor.

“What happened?”

“We saved him. It took us all night to stabilize him, to bring him back.”

“But he’s all right now?”

“He’s… better. I can’t do it again, Rowan. I can’t put him through that again. I should never have done it in the first place. I knew it was wrong. It’s wrong to do that to anyone. He… he was too strong.”

“I can’t talk to him anymore?”

“You have today. I want him to wake today. I want him to walk in the sunshine, to get strong again. I want him to…. If it were possible, I would not put him back into stasis, but the conditioning won’t hold, especially not now.”

“Do you have to, Ragnor? What would it hurt if he
did
remember? He can’t get out of the infirmary, and when we walk in the garden we could take guards….”

“Two days ago you were regaling me with all the reasons why not. What has changed?”

“Nothing. Nothing has changed. It’s just… I don’t think I hate him as much as I used to, and I don’t want him to be hurt anymore.”

Ragnor smiled. “What brought this on? You still hated him quite a lot last night.”

“I don’t know. I had a dream…
the
dream.” Rowan ran his hands through his hair, making it stand up at the top. “It wasn’t the same as before because… because Astrin was with me. I had a choice—go to them or stay with him.”

“Which did you choose?”

“I didn’t. I didn’t choose, but I’ve never had a choice before. I don’t think it was about him, not really. I think the choice I was really being given was hold on to the past or embrace the future.” Rowan frowned thoughtfully. “I decided maybe it’s time to give him a chance, to stop hating him, at least until he gives me a reason to.”

Ragnor nodded. “That was a big step.”

“It felt as if it was. That’s why I had to go to the infirmary.” Rowan sighed. “I don’t know what it means, not really, but… I want to see where it goes. I want to try to get to know him, to see if there is any way we can be friends. I still don’t trust him. I don’t like him, but… maybe I could.”

“That’s all we have ever asked of you, Rowan—that you let go of the irrational hatred and give him a chance. No one is expecting you to become best friends, just to be able to tolerate each other.”

“I think I can tolerate him now.”

Ragnor smiled. “Go and get dressed. Meet me in the infirmary.”

“But I’m hungry.”

“You can share breakfast with Astrin. Bring him here. It will do him good.”

“Will he be able to…?”

“I don’t know what he will be able to do.”

“Ragnor…?”

“Yes, my prince?”

“What have you heard about him? What do you know about him? I’ve hated him so much that I’ve closed myself to anything to do with him. As soon as I hear his name, I shut down and get angry, so I’ve never listened, never taken notice. What’s he like… when he’s himself?”

“I have heard it said that for someone so young he is very wise. He is strong and brave, but also thoughtful and serious. He is an academic and has spent much time studying many subjects from history to warfare at the National Academy. Ironically, but not surprisingly given that he is a Raphael, his strongest skill is in healing.”

“Is he liked?”

“Oh yes, my prince. Everyone seems to love him… much as you are yourself.”

Rowan frowned. “Do they love me, Ragnor? With everything they’ve suffered since this war began… do my people still love me?”

“Indeed they do, my prince. They love you now more than ever.”

“Why?”

“Because you are the symbol of their hope.”

Rowan nodded seriously and, chewing on a piece of toast, went back to his room to shower and dress.

A S
ECOND
C
HANCE