Chapter Eleven

A short time later a woman came to the cell. She was older, with white hair, and came in carrying blankets, a nightgown, and a change of clothes for the morning. I looked at the skirt and blouse she carried and thought they must be June’s. “My name is Naya. I will be back in the morning with breakfast for you.”

I lay down on the stone bench, curled around the blankets and surprised myself by falling right to sleep.

In the morning, Naya brought me a tray of food. Although I tried to plead for her help, she simply shook her head. “You shouldn’t try to run away,” she said. “We need you. You are to save us.”

“From what?” I asked her in exasperation.

“That I don’t know. I don’t worry about it. Let the gods decide. I just bring you food.”

I felt admonished as well as angry and afraid. When Naya brought me lunch, I asked, “Can’t I at least sit in the courtyard? It’s fenced. I can’t escape.”

“I’ll ask Navarre,” she said. She left and later returned carrying the heavy keys in her hand. “He said it was okay,” she said while unlocking the door to my cell. I stepped outside. I had the brief thought of hitting her and then trying to run, but I knew that it would be foolish. Besides, I didn’t want to hurt Naya. She was a sweet woman.

I took the chair and placed it beside the small pool. Naya left, locking the door behind her. I looked around. At least there was an oak tree next to the pond. Although the oak was scrawny it provided some shade. I spent the afternoon lounging in the shade, even falling asleep once or twice. A small ripple in the pool caught my eye. At first I thought it was a bug landing on the surface, but as I looked closer I realized that it was bubbles rising to the surface. I watched them for a while, remembering my day with Everett.

When it grew dark, someone came and lit the torches. I changed into my nightgown. Much later, Naya brought me dinner. As I ate beside the pool, a curious thing happened. A great big bubble rose from the bottom of the pool and popped at the surface. Then the water began swirling and bubbling as it drained away, leaving only slick sand exposed. It was eerie to watch. I stood up and ran to the wooden door and banged upon it. Naya came and opened the door a crack.

“I need Navarre,” I said. “I have something to tell him.”

“What is it?” she asked, sounding suspicious.

“This is no trick to escape. I need him. Or if not him then Everett.”

“Everett? He left yesterday to return to work.”

“Then Navarre. I need him.”

She hesitated.

“Look!” I said, pointing to the now empty pool. I explained what happened. Finally, I heard her sigh in exasperation. “Okay, I’ll be right back.”

I waited in the twilight. The door creaked open and I saw the outline of Navarre.

“Navarre, the little pond just drained for no reason.”

He laughed, completely unimpressed. “You brought me out here for this?”

“I’m serious. I think we should tell Everett. He’s very interested in these things.”

He sighed. “Zara, no matter what you say, or what strange excuse you come up with, you are staying in there until the ceremony.” The door optioned a fraction wider and I felt his eyes take in the sight of me. “Unless,” he said slowly, “you want to see—”

“What?” I asked, interrupting him.

“It might scare you.” There was something about his voice. A hint of wickedness.

“No. I promise it won’t.”

He laughed. “Of course you would want to see. I should have known.”

He took me by the arm, firmly enough that I knew I was still his prisoner. He walked right next to me, guiding me across the terrace. I saw a few people lounging on couches. Torches were aflame all around us. The people sat in pairs, two and three in a cluster. When my eyes adjusted to the light I saw them all turn to face me, and I saw, too, that they were nude, and entwined in passion.

A man lay on the ground, a woman sitting on his waist, rocking her hips back and forth. Taking a few steps backward in shock, I tried to peel my gaze from the debauchery before me. But I couldn’t. Sweaty flesh, curves, thin bodies. A shadow of hair, a mewl of pleasure.

I took a step back, shocked, and ran into Navarre’s warm chest. He dropped his grip on my arm and encircled me close to him. My mouth could not form words. My lungs couldn’t breathe. I could only feel—the night air, his body next to mine. Nothing else mattered.

“Do you see what they do?” he asked.

How could I not? In front of me was a garden of flesh abloom with sin. I didn’t answer him with words but rather with the gasp that slipped from my mouth.

Navarre took me by the hand. “Come with me,” he said.

He led me to the gardens, where the sweet aroma of night blooms greeted us. The stone statues lay cracked and broken among the roses. Fallen soldiers in the war of love, I thought.

We came upon a barrier of high hedges. Navarre stepped through a small opening and pulled me behind him. We had entered a secret space. There was a couple twisting on the grass beside us. We walked on, past the wild lovers.

Deeper, until we came to a dais of white stone. A man, his face obscured to me, lounged on the dais. I saw his body, beautiful and muscular, imposing even at rest. His well-muscled arms were extended, encircling the hips of a beautiful woman, his hands grabbing her pelvis as she straddled his legs.

Since I was so focused on him I had barely noticed her. I took full measure of her. I didn’t recognize her. She was pretty, in a dark and petite way. But passion had turned her sensuous. As she straddled him her mouth was parted in a small O of pleasure as her hips followed the lead of his hands.

Navarre whispered in my ear. “See that? Look how he throws his head back. There is no better feeling in the world, than to be buried inside a woman. Her heat all around your cock.” When he whispered that naughty word in my ear something wild sprang to life inside me, and I gasped.

“Do I shock you, little one?”

“No,” I whispered, trying my best to sound in control when I very much was not.

“There is nothing better,” he repeated, “than hearing those little moans come from a woman’s mouth. It drives a man wild. Then you have to grab her—” at that he grabbed me roughly by my pelvis and slammed my body back against his “—and grind inside her.” I felt his hardness against my bottom. Threatening. Huge.

Holding me firm against him with one hand the other snaked around to the front of my nightgown, cupping me between my legs.

I bit my lips to try to hold back the moan.

“You are already wet through your nightgown, little one.” He lifted the gown to my waist and bent me over slightly, putting his fingers inside me from behind.

Now the woman’s eyes were closed. She was lost in ecstasy. She lifted her hips to mount him, and between her legs I saw the man’s hardness. Far bigger than I imagined could fit into a woman, but she sank slowly, leisurely upon him, moaning the entire time.

And with Navarre’s fingers deep inside me, I joined her. He was stroking my wetness, sliding his fingers inside me and then pulling them out again. Navarre pulled me back up, tight against him. I leaned against his body, lifted my arm and wrapped it around his neck. “Don’t stop,” I whispered.

“Never,” he whispered hotly in my ear, his hand tormenting me on and on. His other hand swept over my breasts, cupping them, toying with my nipples.

Her moans and cries filled the night, and I realized what she was seeking. I found I couldn’t help but join her. I lifted a leg, allowing Navarre to press his fingers more deeply inside me.

Now the woman was wild. She lifted up and down on his lap, her hands upon his knees, her breasts pressed together. She began to move her hips in small circles, honing in on her pleasure. Then she moved faster and I did, as well. Her cries of passion mingled with mine in the night air, and when she reached her climax I was already there, bucking against Navarre’s hand, reaching back and clutching his neck.

We didn’t move, stayed locked together as I returned to earth. When finally Navarre urged me to leave, I did so, reluctantly, hating to leave such a cloistered place. As we stepped from the gardens I looked to the sky to see the belfry a white dagger pointing to the sky. Against the moon, I saw the small darting shadows of the bats as they returned to their nest.

Navarre returned me to my little cell. “Don’t leave me,” I said.

“I have to. You can’t be trusted. I think you will run, especially if you feel guilty. But, don’t worry. By this time tomorrow night, you will be a Lucian.”