Fantasyland 02 The Golden Dynasty (58 page)

And he didn’t.

And I’d had enough. Hell, I’d had
more
than enough.

I was done.

“Circe, look at me,” he ordered.

I stared at the rain and I did this for a
long time before he spoke again.

“It will be reported to me if you do not
care for yourself and the creature you carry.”

The creature I carry.

Nice.

When he received no response, he continued,
“And Circe, if this is the case, they will have orders to make
certain you care for yourself and what is in your womb.”

“
I will not…
ever,
” I whispered fiercely to the rain, “do anything to
harm
my
child.”

Lahn fell silent.

I kept my eyes on the soft rain as
corresponding tears slid down my cheeks.

Then his voice came at me again, this time
it was softer, nearly sweet, almost, but not quite, my Lahn.

“Circe –”

I cut him off, my voice flat, dead and
nothing like anything he’d ever heard from me.

“Good-bye, Lahn.”

I heard nothing for some time before I heard
the pound of fist on door, the bolt slide, the door open, then it
closed and the bolt was thrown home to lock me in.

I closed my eyes and fresh tears surged down
my cheeks.

Then I waited and when I felt that his
energy had indeed left the room, I looked to it.

I was alone.

I tore off my crown of feathers, ripped it
in half, ripped it in quarters, ripped it until it was nothing but
shreds.

I threw its remains away from me and sank to
my ass on the tiled floor, knees to chest, face to knees, my arms
tight around my calves and my sobs pierced the room as the rain
outside no longer came softly but hit the city in unrelenting
sheets.

And I rocked back and forth, whispering
brokenly to my thighs, “Take me home, take me home, take me home,
I
need
to go home.
Please, please, whatever magic is out there for me, let it be at my
command to
take me home.
”

I did not go home.

No, I fell asleep curled on the tile,
exhausted from my tears, the rain still pounding down, unremitting,
outside.

Then it stopped and when it did, it did this
abruptly.

* * * * *

The rain stopped so abruptly, Dax Lahn heard
it.

All night, listening to his queen’s sorrow
driving its wet into the city, feeling that wet as if it was
pounding against his skin causing emotions he didn’t understand to
war in his gut, emotions he would not know until later were doubt
and guilt, not sleeping or having slept, he shot from his bed, tore
down the hall and ignored Bohtan and Feetak who were standing
outside Circe’s bolted door.

He threw back the bolt, threw open the door
and saw the room empty.

After searching, every room was empty, not
just the rooms he shared with his wife but throughout their
home.

Nothing was left of her except his queen’s
tattered feathers lying on the tiled floor.

The iron crosses outside the windows were in
place, they had not been tampered with and Lahn knew even his small
Circe could not force herself through the space that a small child
could not get through.

And even if she could, the house butted the
side of the plateau, there was nothing to catch her should she jump
and the fall was so deep, it would kill her.

Even so, Dax Lahn ordered warriors to search
the bottom of the plateau.

They returned with no sightings of Circe,
dead or alive, not even a footprint should her magic have saved her
so she could run away.

His wife was gone.

I gave up my world for you.

As this news processed through his system,
Dax Lahn, the commander of Suh Tunak, the King of all Korwahk threw
back his head and roared.

Home

I heard my name being called and, weirdly,
it sounded like
me
who was
calling it.

My eyes fluttered open and I looked into a
mirror.

“You are fine, my sweet twin,” my reflection
which appeared to be leaning over me in a bed said to me and I felt
my hand squeezed tightly. “Do not be alarmed at the fatigue. The
magic takes it all out of you. It will be a few days. We will care
for you. Rest, my sweet.”

My eyelids drifted closed because I was
right with what I told me, I was fatigued, so freaking tired, it
was unbelievable. I’d never felt that fucking tired in all my
life.

But I forced them back open and saw me still
leaned into me.

I smiled at myself but it wasn’t
me
smiling.

Then I whispered (but it wasn’t my
whispering), “You are safe, sweet Circe, you are
home.
”

Then my eyes drifted back to closed.

And those actually were mine.

* * * * *

“She will be like this for a day, Harold,
maybe two.”

I tried to force my eyes open as words in my
voice but not said by my lips were whispered close.

Harold.

My Pop.

“She’s okay?”

Oh God. Yes. My Pop!

I tried to open my eyes and turn toward his
voice, a voice I never thought I’d hear again, but I just could not
fight off the sleep.

“She is…” a hesitation, “fine.”

“Circe, darlin’, if you haven’t got that you
can’t hold back with me…” Pop’s warning trailed off and I heard a
sigh.

“I’m sorry, my beloved father, they are weak
but my senses tell me she’s with child.”

I heard my father suck in a hard, rough
breath.

Then I was out.

* * * * *

“Are you with me, my love?”

My eyes slowly opened and I saw my bed and
then, beyond that, my bedroom.

In Seattle.

Holy crap!

I turned to my back and looked to the side
of the bed. Sitting in one of my dining room table chairs was
me.

Or… the other me.

“Circe?” I whispered and she smiled.

“Sit up, my twin,” she whispered back,
moving off the chair bent toward me, she helped me pull myself up
and arranged pillows behind me.

I stared at her in shock.

Totally me. The spitting image. Wearing my
clothes but having had a haircut in the last few months.

She sat back down and scooted a bit forward,
taking my hand.

“You know I am not you?” she enquired.

I nodded.

“You know who I am?” she continued.

I nodded again and she smiled.

“You worked out what happened,” she
whispered.

I nodded yet again and she nodded back.

“How are you?” she asked.

Flipped out was how I was. Totally.

“Um…”

“Still tired?” she went on.

I nodded.

“Are you thirsty, hungry?”

I shook my head though I was. I was
both.

“How…?” I started and she shook her head
this time.

“
I do not know. Though you clearly have
powers, like me. That said, Harold tells me you never did and,
indeed, he told me
no one
in this
world does. But he is wrong; those holding power here are smarter
than we at home. They keep it guarded, the most guarded secret.
This is wise. Nevertheless, i
t is clear from your extreme exhaustion that you discovered
how to spirit yourself out of that world to your home. I felt the
same when I…” she hesitated, her face going soft yet cautious,
“spirited myself.”

I knew it. She totally bailed.

Good for her. Way bad for me.

“We have been searching,” she continued, “to
find a way to bring you home. My magic is depleted. I did not know,
though had been warned, but it takes much power to move between
worlds, vast amounts. I feel it growing inside me but it is feeble
and it may take years, even decades, for it to replenish. But we
have located a witch in this world who we thought could help.
Before we could try, you returned.” She smiled a small smile. “This
is good and has caused our father great relief.”

“
Our
father?” I whispered and she gave a small, wary
shrug, still smiling.

“He has forgiven me for what I’ve done to
you, especially since I have worked so hard to locate this witch at
the same time trying to find ways to rebuild my own powers to bring
you home. My father was murdered by my king when I was very young
so that he could um… well…” She stopped then went on, “I have
talked much with your father. I have explained things and we have
grown close.” Her eyes grew warm. “He is a fine man and has a big
heart. He says since my father looked exactly like him, but, of
course, through memory, much younger, then he is really my father
anyway, in a way.” She smiled again. “But I still call him
Harold.”

I stared at her. Or, more to the point,
at
me.

Her smile faded and her eyes grew
intense.

Then she whispered, “Now I must ask the same
of you, if you could find it in your heart to give it to me.”

“The same what?” I whispered back.

“Forgiveness.”

I stared again and she leaned closer,
squeezing my hand.

“I knew, I knew you existed,” she said
softly, closed her eyes tight and opened them before she continued.
“I knew what I would… what I was doing to you in an effort to
protect myself but… but…” she pressed her lips together and
released them before she said so quietly it was an effort to hear
her, “I could bear no more.”

I knew it. I knew that. Shit, I knew it.

“Circe,” I whispered.

“For years,” she whispered back, “my king…”
she shook her head, “then those pirates taking turns. Then those
scouts apprehending me. I knew about Korwahk. I knew about the
Hunt. I’m so sorry, my sweet twin,” her hand squeezed mine hard as
tears filled her light brown eyes that looked, I noticed for the
first time on her but never noticed on me, golden, “I could bear no
more. I knew of the spell, I had heard of it and considered it
often. But the only spell I knew was to change places, not to move
between worlds on my own, but to switch me with you, and I couldn’t
live with myself if I did that to the unknown you. But standing in
that pen, having been prepared for the Hunt, I had no more strength
to do the honorable thing and instead I did the selfish thing. So I
changed places with you and I know why I did it. I know why. But
learning of you, living your life, being with those you love, you
must know I regret it.”

I squeezed her hand back. “Don’t.”

She blinked at me in surprise. “What?”

“I met Baldur,” her eyes widened and I
nodded, continuing, “I heard about the pirates. I put it together
and I know why you did it,” I said gently. “I get it. Boy…” I
smiled as best I could at her, “do I know.”

She nodded and her eyes moved to my belly
then back to me. “I know you do. Oh Circe, the horrors you must
have endured because of me.”

“Don’t do that either.” I squeezed her hand
again. “It’s over.”

She nodded. “That it is.”

Yep, that it was.

“What has been, has been,” I whispered, “and
what will be…” I trailed off, my eyes filled with tears and unlike
the other me, I could not hold them back.

“Oh, my twin,” she whispered, pulled me into
her arms, sat on the bed at my hip and held me while I cried. My
arms wrapping around her, I shoved my face in her neck and
sobbed.

And I sobbed for my lost kingdom. For my
lost Ghost. For my lost Diandra, Narinda, my girls and my posse.
For my lost guard.

And for my lost king.

This meant I cried hard and I did it for a
long fucking time.

And when I stopped, my twin settled me back
in the bed, brought me a box of Kleenex then moved my hair away
from my face as I wiped my eyes and cheeks and blew my nose.

The she said, “I will bring you coffee and
breakfast. Yes?”

I nodded.

“And I will phone your father.”

That was when I nodded and gave her a shaky
smile.

She nodded back, murmuring, “I will do the
second first.” Then she grabbed my hand and gave one last squeeze
before she let me go and moved from the room.

I stared at her back.

Yep, she was wearing my clothes. It was good
to see I wasn’t wrong when I bought them; those jeans looked great
on me.

Then I wondered if I’d miss my sarongs.

Or the sun.

Or the dirt, sand and stone.

I knew I wouldn’t miss chamber pots.

The rest of it, fuck me, I was going to
miss.

I pushed back down in bed, curled into a
ball and deep breathed.

No more crying.

That was done.

Now, I had to suck it up.

I was home.

Back

Five months later…

The lights over the fleet (fleet, as in,
four of them) of moving trucks in the garage went out panel by
panel, the only one staying illuminated being the one by the front
door and I knew Pop was closing down for the night.

In my office at the back, I shoved the last
invoice in an envelope, checked that the address could be seen in
the window and licked it closed.

Pop moved through the doorway and I smiled
at him.

“Just need to stamp this then I’m off home
to change. I’ll meet you at the party.”

The other Circe was leaving and we were
having a going away party. She was taking the money Pop had given
her, I had given her and the boys had collected for her (with a
little training, she’d taken over the office for me while I was
gone, she was good at it and the place was not the mess I’d worried
it would be) and she was going to New Orleans. She was going there
because she’d read about it and wanted to see it, in fact, when not
searching for ways to get me home and working in the office, she
read about a lot of her new world and she wanted to explore as much
of it as she could see. And New Orleans was a good choice, seeing
as she’d see a whole heckuva a lot of the country driving there
from Seattle (Pop, by the by, taught her to drive).