Protector of the Flame (12 page)

“This sector is for people who work at night. Those with musical gifts reside down this other sector. They close the main doors when they practice so as not to disturb others.”

A variety of musical instruments, strings, winds and percussion, adorned the walls along the main area where the sectors converged. As they entered a different section of the octagon, moisture caressed her skin. Running showers must’ve been ahead.

A naked man, tall and lean, passed them with a towel draped over his shoulder, and she cut her gaze away.

When they turned the corner, she froze, gaping. Open bay showers were filled with beautiful men and women. Shapely bodies—tan, alabaster, golden and brown—showered side by side. Three men and two women had tattoos on their backs, long swords with a key and lightning bolt for a handle.

No one appeared self-conscious, except Serenity, whose heart had leapt into her throat.

“Are you all right?” Soren asked.

She averted her gaze and stared at the tile floor. “Are there other facilities, more private?”

He took her down a hallway that led outside. Open air showers separated by partitions lined the perimeter.

“Will this do?”

The spectacular view of the ocean and emerald greenery of the island was breathtaking, but showering outside didn’t qualify as more private. “No other options?”

“We have private baths on the other side.”

Relief brought a smile to her face. “Thank goodness.”

“But they require so much water they’re for two or more only.”

“I can’t even bathe in private?”

“You could ask your mother to join you.”

She shook her head. “That won’t be possible.” Despite how much she wanted the situation to be otherwise.

“I’m sorry our facilities aren’t up to your standards.”

Insulting the accommodations of her hostess wasn’t a smart way to show gratitude. “Don’t mind me. Humans, Americans actually, are a bit freaky about privacy. We have a lot of hang-ups when it comes to our bodies.”

“But you are not human.”

After everything she’d endured and experienced, she was still coming to terms with that fact. “Thank you. This is fine.”

“When you’re finished, go down to the lower level where you may eat.”

Once Soren left, she undressed without thinking about her exposure to the elements or any warriors who might happen to fly by, and showered as quickly as she could. The fresh linen clothes were awkwardly loose, but tightening up her sneakers renewed the sense she could tackle whatever might come.

She crossed underneath the open dome through a shaft of warm sunlight on the lower level. A light breeze blew through the large spaces around the periphery, filling the hall with exotic floral scents.

Two men walked by, acknowledging her with a nod. As she glanced over her shoulder, both men stared back. They had two long slits along the spine of their blue tunics. She guessed they were warriors and the openings were for when they shifted and wings emerged.

In the dining area, long, white tables with benches were staggered in two circles, one inside the other. In the center, a bright array of food lined several tables pushed together. The seating could accommodate five hundred, maybe more. Yet only a handful of folks ate, speaking in hushed tones.

People stared and whispered as she passed. They probably didn’t get many visitors here, especially not ones with a Paladin as their companion.

A charged energy stream licked her electric core, probing for connection. Stiffening, she rejected the foreign stream, then it broke away.

“How curious, surrounded by the flock, you look lost,” a man said.

Spinning on her heels, she faced a young man—young being relative of course—that looked about mid-twenties. A playful smile broke on his beautiful, sun-kissed face, kind eyes laughing at her. Long, brown hair with golden highlights fell to his collarbone in wispy layers.

“Are you going to eat or simply stand here? They’ll remove the food any minute.” He didn’t wait for an answer as he cut through an aisle between the tables and went to the hodgepodge of food set in the center.

Biting back a smile and at an utter loss for words, Serenity caught up to him.

He handed her a bamboo tray and a plate with utensils that looked like they were made from a composite of shells. “If you get hungry throughout the day, be sure to take extra fruit for later. The next meal isn’t until sunset.”

She nodded, putting a mixture of sliced fruit on her plate.

“Neith said you were a queer bird. Although she failed to mention you were a mute.”

An awkward sound, something close to a giggle slipped from her lips. She had no clue where it came from.

“Finally, a smile.” He whisked a lock of hair from his eye. “I’m Adriel.”

“You already know who I am.”

“Serenity Ameliora. We all know who you are.” He juggled fruit in the air and tossed her an orange and banana. “Has Neith assigned you to a work detail?”

“Work detail?” she asked as they strolled to a table and sat at a bench.

“Everyone here works. Neith will assign you something productive.”

She put a spoonful of white porridge in her mouth and strained not to spit the bitter sludge out.

“You don’t like it?”

Forcing herself to swallow, she willed herself not to heave.

“It’s made from a root called Yaki, not to be confused with yucky. High in protein and will keep you full throughout the day.” With his wiry build and faint Aussie accent, he reminded her of a surfer.

“Perhaps it’ll grow on me.”

“I’ve eaten it all my life and can’t say it’s grown on me a lick. I prefer cereal from the mainland, but Neith doesn’t allow me to bring it back. Corruption of the palate is what she calls it. Refuses to let me infect the others.”

His charisma was stimulating, his easy-breezy style disarming, completely knocking her off balance.

“How long have you been here?”

A group of seven men and women dressed in yellow, their hair tied up, came from a side door and began to clear away the buffet of food.

“I was born here,” he answered.

She bit her bottom lip, uncertain how to ask what she really wanted to know. “That was my way of asking how old you are.” She ate a piece of sliced fruit. Sweetness exploded in her mouth.

“I’m fifty-two.” He gave a devilish wink.

A stocky man from the kitchen detail came to their table. “I saved the last two for you.” He tossed Adriel two pieces of fruit with scarlet skin.

Adriel caught them with ease. “Nikos, you’re the best, man.”

Nikos didn’t acknowledge her presence and Adriel didn’t seem concerned with introductions.

“Get to the evening meal early. I persuaded Lazarus to make your favorite tonight.”

“I appreciate your persistence. He’s so stubborn,” Adriel said.

“If only you knew.” Nikos shook his head and then darted back to the doors where the others left. He had two slits in the back of his tunic like the men she’d seen earlier, but he was dressed in yellow, not blue.

Adriel pushed one of the scarlet-colored fruit toward her. “It’s good to have friends in the kitchen.”

The fruit was warm as though it’d just been picked from the sun. It smelled like a cross between a mango and a peach, but was twice the size of anything she’d seen in a grocery store.

They dumped their trays by a stack of dirty ones and went up to the library on the third floor.

Pristine blue water, bluer than any she’d ever seen, called to her. She drifted to the railing near the walkway. The rippling expanse of lapis water was mesmerizing.

All light and beauty and warmth, this place appeared to be paradise. If only Cyrus was here.

When she turned around, Adriel was seated at one of the laptops. The library seemed more like a museum than a home for books with the antiquities along every wall. There was an empty sarcophagus with colorful Egyptian images painted inside, a painting of a goddess with wings and several marble statues.

Rows of papyrus scrolls were stacked in large bookcases thick and high as walls. Four ebony doors on the far side of the open space across from the bookcases had detailed carvings she couldn’t make out. Centuries of secrets were probably stored inside.

She knocked on the office door and wrung her fingers while she waited.

When Neith opened the door, Serenity peeked inside. Sothis sat in the same chair she’d been in last night, but dressed in a blue outfit. Three guards stood near the desk. A different scribe recorded the conversation.

“How did you sleep?” Neith asked.

“Very well, thanks to the honey wine.”

“Your mother will be more cooperative without you present. You may enter if you wish. Full transcripts will be made available at a later date if you elect not to come in.”

“I’d like to hear everything firsthand. I won’t interrupt.”

Neith’s delicate chin lifted a fraction, highlighting a long, graceful neck. “Your presence will disrupt the flow of information. I hope prudence will outweigh impatience and you’ll make a wiser decision.”

Obviously, the choice was no real choice at all. “Okay, I’ll wait. In the meantime, I need to contact Cyrus to let him know I’m all right.”

“Your situation is rather precarious. The only way to ensure your safety for now is to keep your whereabouts and even the fact that you’re alive a secret from everyone.”

“He’ll go mad with worry.” There was no telling what depths his despair would reach.

“A necessary consequence.” Not a drop of empathy in the opalescent, gray swirl of her eyes.

Serenity took a step forward and held the otherworldly gaze of the ancient beauty. “I won’t let Cyrus suffer needlessly. If he thinks I’m dead, there’s no telling how far off the deep end he’ll go. I can’t afford to risk that. Find a way for me to send him a message that I’m alive or—”

“Careful.” A hint of a smile perked Neith’s lips. “Do not give an ultimatum you’ll regret carrying out, for petulant demands hold no sway over me. Your impetuosity and naivete would see us all in the ring of fire, but I have no desire to burn just yet. Have patience and enjoy my hospitality with grace. Feel free to use a computer at one of the historian’s stations, research any transcription.” Neith slammed the door in her face.

It took a moment for the burn in Serenity’s cheeks to subside. She prayed Neith’s words were governed by wisdom and not some self-serving agenda. Until she could be certain of which, she needed to act and speak with more caution.

Information in the database wasn’t organized in a user-friendly format she was familiar with. When she searched Herut, over 10,000 results came back. Each sigh of frustration elicited a glare from someone.

Despite the sophistication of the system, it lacked an Internet connection to send emails. There had to be a way to contact Cyrus.

Every ten minutes, she glanced at Neith’s door, wondering, waiting.

The light began to fade. Low in the horizon, the setting sun cast a rosy hue in the library. People shut down their workstations.

“You’ll enjoy the evening meal.” Adriel came up beside her. “Fish cooked in a saffron broth is a treat we rarely enjoy.”

Serenity looked at the heavy door to Neith’s office. “I’ll stay a bit longer.”

“I’ll save you some.”

Adriel was the last historian to leave.

Sconces on the wall illuminated. She stretched, walking around the quiet space. A long chart with numbers and symbols divided into three sections hung on the wall. Sections were labeled Akhet, Peret and Shemu. An Egyptian calendar. She remembered her birthday, Akhet III 26 and found it.

The door to the office opened, and Serenity pivoted. Sothis waltzed past the computer stations without a glance in her direction.

She dashed behind Sothis. “I’d like to speak with you.”

Grating silence.

“I’d prefer to hear the truth from you instead of reading it in a transcript.” She stayed on her mother’s heels down the walkway. “I remember watching Daddy die.”

The vivid memory raked her heart. All of the happy times with her father overshadowed by his brutal death.

Adriel and someone she didn’t know stared as they passed the second level.

“He swallowed the barrel of a gun and blew out his brains. I remember it just as clearly as if it happened yesterday.” The pain of losing her father welled in her soul.

Chest heaving, she stopped, holding on to the railing, and watched Sothis stroll away.

“You don’t understand what it’s like to have your memories stolen and your mind tampered with.” Long buried anguish cracked in her voice, carefully contained sorrow shattering. “Please!”

“I may be able to help you,” Adriel said.

Serenity turned to him, tears pooling in her eyes. “How?”

“I’m a healer. My gift is quite strong.”

Hope streaked through her and she hurried back up to him. “Can you heal my mind, restore my memories?”