Betrothed (28 page)

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Authors: Wanda Wiltshire

BOOK: Betrothed
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‘What price?’

‘For Jason, the price will be side effects.’

‘Such as?’

‘They can be unpredictable. Certainly a good portion of his memory will be lost. But other side effects are also possible.’

‘Go on.’

‘They might include delusions, anxiety, paranoia—that type of thing . . . but it might only be the memory loss.’

Only the memory loss! I thought about Jason and the effect he’d had on my life. What had he really done that had been so bad? I
suspected
he was up to all kinds of no good, but was I so sure I would risk my prince messing with his mind?

‘I don’t know, I wouldn’t like to injure him . . . but if he puts a foot wrong, Leif—’

‘Only say the word, my love.’

I had my own personal hit man.

I sighed and brushed my face against his chest. My sigh turned into a frown. ‘This shirt is getting in the way.’

He pulled the shirt over his head and dropped it on the lounge.

‘That’s much better.’ I placed my palms flat against his chest and looked up. He smiled down at me as I slid my hands around his back.
I can’t stay worried when I’m with you, Leif.

He leaned down to kiss me.
I won’t allow anyone to hurt you, Marla.

I closed my eyes. I don’t know whether it was his magic, or just the natural effect he had on me, but whichever it was, when his lips touched mine, my worries about Jason disintegrated like a tiny curl of smoke in the wind. There was only his mouth, opening mine—his teeth nudging my lip, gently nipping—his heat coming into me, melting me from the inside out. By the time our kiss ended, I was completely at ease and Jason might have been a million miles away. Leif took my hand and brought me with him to the balcony.

‘Did you just use your magic to relax me?’ I asked, as I sat in the chair he held out for me.

He smiled as he took the seat beside me and picked up my hand. ‘That depends on what you mean by magic. If you mean did I cast a spell on you, then no. But if you are speaking of the natural influence I have over you, then yes. Yes, I did.’ I opened my mouth to protest, but then he grinned. ‘Don’t try to deny it, Marla, I am your man. It’s only natural you respond to me so.’

‘You’re doing it again!’

‘What am I doing?’

‘Going all eighteenth century on me—you remind me of Edmund from this Jane Austen book I had to read for English.’

‘Edmund, hmm . . . I hope you don’t think
me
as stupid as he—to take so long to recognise his love when she is right before him.’

‘You know that book?’

‘I do, and I have to say, you are
nothing
like Fanny Price.’

‘How do you know that book?’

‘Human literature is popular in Faera. Austen happens to be a favourite of Aren’s wife. She used to read it to me at bedtime when I was in her care.’

‘And you didn’t object?’

‘I was an obliging child—besides, it sent me off to sleep very well.’ He chuckled. ‘She met Jane in fact.’

‘She did
not
!’

Leif laughed and kissed my nose. ‘It is true, she did. But you must ask her yourself if you don’t believe me.’

‘I believe you, Leif. What did she say about her?’

‘I hardly recall—it was of little interest to me. Something about her enjoying cups of tea, I think.’

We lost the next few minutes discussing Jane Austen and her works, specifically
Mansfield Park
and the relationship between Edmund and Fanny. How chivalrous but stupid was Edmund, and how refined and perfect Fanny.

‘Fanny is too perfect,’ Leif insisted, ‘bordering on dull—a female must have some naughtiness about her.’

I erupted into laughter.

‘What is funny?’ he asked, looking down to where my head rested on his shoulder.

‘You! There you are wanting naughtiness, but whenever I try to provide it, you shut me down!’

‘Ah, but when you turn eighteen we will marry, and you can be assured, I will not
shut you down
then.’

I lifted my head and looked at him. ‘Is that really usual in Faera, Leif? Do people really get married so young?’

‘What would be the point in waiting? Faera is not like this place, where people might have any number of partners before finally choosing the one they wish to marry.’

What he said made sense, and certainly my ideas
were
formed by my human experience, but to just assume something as enormous as marriage seemed . . . wrong. ‘You know, you’ve never actually asked me if I
want
to get married.’

He turned to look at me directly. ‘You do not wish to marry me?’

‘Geez, I didn’t say that, but you haven’t even asked me, Leif. You always just speak about it like it’s already decided.’

‘We are betrothed—of course it’s decided. But if you don’t
wish
to marry me . . . ’ He removed his hand from mine and turned away from me, ‘I would never insist upon it.’

What I
was
beginning to wish was that I’d just kept my big mouth shut. He picked up my hand from his thigh and placed it into my lap as, back straight and chin lifted, he found something interesting to look at in the park across the road. I had offended him,
deeply
offended him. I suddenly recalled what he’d told me about Fae pride and, smiling to myself, I placed one hand back on his thigh while I pressed the other to his cheek until he turned to face me.

‘Of course I want to marry you, Leif. I can hardly wait to marry you. It’s just that . . . here on Earth, it’s usual for a man to ask first.’

He frowned. But at least he was looking at me again. ‘So you wish me to
ask
you to marry me?’

I couldn’t stop the exasperated sigh. ‘Look, can you just forget I said anything? I would marry you this very second. We both know it.’

He sat back and picked up my hand again. ‘Sometimes I worry about the effect this world has had on you, Marla.’

That made two of us.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Waiting for the assembly was like waiting for Christmas, but with a good dash of fear thrown in. Leif was suffering. He tried to conceal it, but I was so in tune with him that I could
feel
the effect of his entrapment. It was like a kind of sorrow that lingered around him, stealing the light from his smile. He reminded me of one of those exotic birds that some people keep, uncaged but with wings clipped to prevent escape. Those birds always look out of place, sitting on a perch all day, regal and defeated when they should be soaring free above the jungle.

On the plus side, Ashleigh was talking to me again. Every now and then she would try to convince me of what a great guy Jason was. I kept my opinions about him to myself. I didn’t want to upset her or open old wounds. But I refused to be conned—Jason was up to no good, I was sure of it. At school they were always together. Jason made a point of me noticing and when Ashleigh wasn’t watching, he’d look over and catch my eyes, his smile triumphant. None of it was lost on Jack. He was furious as he watched Jason work his magic on my sister, and full of helpful suggestions to get rid of him.

‘We could start a rumour about him on Facebook,’ he suggested. It was Friday lunch time, and we sat under our tree with the rest of our group. Not far away, Ashleigh sat on Jason’s lap, surrounded by his friends. ‘Better idea. We could carry him up to the oval and chuck him in the scrum. He’s only as big as a football. It’d be nothing to ditch him right in the middle of it. No
wait,’ he hurried on, ignoring Hilary’s protests that he should be the bigger person. ‘Pick a bit of his hair off Ash’s clothes, Marla. We can make a Jason voodoo doll, stick nails in it, big long ones, and staples. We could staple it right on the—’

‘Jack!’

‘Hilary!’

‘You’re impossible.’ She sighed, shaking her head.

‘I know, we could push him off his skateboard,’ he persisted, disregarding Hilary’s outrage. ‘I drive past him all the time when he’s hurling down the street thinking he’s so great. A fleet hand out the window—bam!’

‘You’re pretty much talking murder now, Jackie,’ I pointed out with a grin.

‘Damn, I suppose he’s not worth going to jail for,’ Jack conceded.

And so it went on, Jack’s fantasies of ridding the world of Jason becoming increasingly ludicrous. His ideas involved rat traps and cement mixers, Jason’s friends often among the carnage. If Jack’s plotting was too bloodthirsty to be feasible at least it provided laughs. Hilary was appalled, but Leif was in stitches when I told him about it later.

Had I known what was going to happen the next day though, I might not have taken Jack’s ideas so lightly. I might have paid more attention. I might have even pushed Jason off that skateboard myself.

I spent the earliest part of Saturday with Leif, curled into his side watching television. We were home alone, which was just how I liked it. Mum and Dad were out shopping and Ashleigh had left early to spend the day with Jason. Leif was waiting for Jack; they
were going to Dave’s garage to help out for a few hours, to work on cars, apparently. It made me happy to see Leif and Jack getting on. I knew it couldn’t be easy for Jack.

At eleven o’clock, Jack was beeping his horn out the front. Leif kissed me, assured me he was only a heartbeat away, then jogged down the stairs to join my friend.

Just before midday, there came a knock on the door. I looked through the peephole—Jason, ugh. I contemplated tiptoeing back to the family room, but then it occurred to me that Ashleigh wasn’t with him. I wanted to know why, so I opened the door. Jason didn’t come inside.

I said, ‘Ashleigh’s not here, I thought she was with you.’

A cold smirk crept up Jason’s face. ‘She
was
with me.’

‘So where is she now?’

‘I don’t really know—or care. Cronulla, I think. But I don’t want to talk about Ashleigh.’

My skin began to prickle. ‘What do you mean?’

‘All of a sudden I don’t need your sister any more.’

Fear snaked through my limbs, settling into a hard lump behind my ribs. I waited for him to speak again. His expression was victorious. He handed me a piece of folded paper.

‘Look what I found at Cronulla. There’s plenty more of them too—plastered all over the place, they are. Couldn’t believe my luck when I spotted it. Then when your sister started panicking, I knew it was payday. She tried to tell me the dude wasn’t your boyfriend. When she knew I wasn’t buying it, she started rambling about you being in danger, or trouble—some crap like that. It kind of made things simple for me. Too easy.’ He laughed.

‘Did you really think you’d get away with dumping me?’ he continued. ‘I do you a favour by going out with you, and you just chuck it back in my face.’

I unfolded the piece of paper. It was an A4-sized poster. One giant word took up a third of the space: ‘MISSING.’ Beneath that was a photo of Leif, and below that was the mobile phone number of his ‘very worried family’. My belly churned as I stared at the poster for several long moments, my throat becoming increasingly thick. I had to concentrate on my breathing. My eyes drifted back to Jason’s.

‘I recognised your boyfriend straight away. Don’t know how your stupid sister thought she could convince me it wasn’t him. What’s the matter,
Marla
? You look a bit pale.’ He laughed.

‘What have you done?’

‘What do you think? I called the number to find out what was up, of course. Your sister wasn’t too thrilled about it, tried to tear the phone out of my hand. Went nuts she did, crying and raving about some awful people being after you. But whatever, that only made me want it more.’

I felt like I might collapse. I could feel my heart rate increase as a strange ringing noise began in my ears. But Jason, calm as can be, just continued.

‘Brittany and Simone kept your psycho sister off me so I could make the call. I told the very interested dude on the other end of the phone that I had no idea where the guy in the poster was, but I could sure point him in the direction of his little girlfriend.’

My blood was turning to ice and my voice trembled as I said, ‘Please tell me you didn’t give him my address. This is my life, Jason. If he finds me, I’m dead.’

‘Really.’ He grinned. ‘That bad? But you didn’t
really
think I was going to let you get away with humiliating me, did you?’ He turned away, put two fingers in his mouth and whistled down the stairs.

Horrified, I watched as ten young men, broad shouldered and strong with clear and luminous skin, marched up the stairs
towards me. Save for the two in front, each carried a bow over his shoulder and a clutch of arrows at his side. All wore a uniform of loose pants tied at the ankles and hip in the green of the forest of Telophy.

I managed to hold myself together as the man at the front of the group looked me over before turning to Jason. ‘This is Marla?’

‘Well that’s what her gay friend calls her,’ Jason confirmed with a satisfied smile.

I was wound so tight I could only stare as the man returned his attention to me and made his declaration in a voice devoid of emotion: ‘I am Lorsen of the guard of King Telophy. I have been commanded by His Majesty to return with you to Faera.’ Then he stepped forwards and reached for me.

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