Tempted by Celestial Bodies

Chapter 4

chapter four

jalus

As soon as Sinead lies down to sleep, I reach into my pocket for the stimulant I requested from my mother.

Breaking the wax seal, I wrestle the stopper out of the gourd and put it to my lips. The liquid inside is viscous, sticky, and sour-sweet. I swallow twice and wait for it to take effect.

When Sinead woke on the first day with scratches all over her body, I knew she was marked in the same way her eleven predecessors had been. Each of them complained of amnesia and strange wounds. And then, after three days, they disappeared.

I failed to protect her the first two days. With the stimulant to keep me alert, this is my last chance to save my lady.

Today’s awkward silence gave me time to inspect my feelings, no longer carried away on updrafts of lust. It stung, hearing her words to Lord O’Rourke this morning. I had thought, after what we shared, she might finally stand up to him.

But I don’t believe she meant those vile words.

The Nade I knew as a child held everyone at arm’s length for fear of rejection. But there was a kind, openhearted soul hidden under that brittle shell, desperate for friendship and love. I keep seeing flashes of it, so much stronger and more beautiful now that she’s grown into her power.

I’m confident I can coax that side of her into the light. But it will take time. I can’t let her disappear before she’s been given enough space to grow.

The substance works fast. Within minutes, my pulse begins to race. Adrenaline surges through my system, making it difficult to stand still.

It’s been thirty minutes since Sinead went to lie down. She must be asleep by now.

Slowly, noiselessly, I push open her cabin door. It feels unseemly to be entering uninvited, but I remind myself that this is for her protection.

When I slip into her bedroom, there’s a startled rustling sound. I open my mouth to apologize, thinking she’s still awake.

But then, in the light filtering through the window shade, I make out the shape of her, sitting up in bed, breasts bare. Her eyes are closed, her head lolling to the side. She is asleep.

Her breather mask dangles next to her head, held in the prehensile grasp of a creeping vine tendril.

I suck in a breath and start forward, lower hands clenching on the handles of my thorn daggers. More vines shoot out from the floor, finding miniscule cracks in the seedpod to worm their way through. They wrap around my ankles and arms. Thorns prick my skin, a warning.

“Cousins,” I murmur, releasing my weapons. Even when being attacked by the trees, I can’t bring myself to disrespect them.

The vines encircling Sinead’s arms and legs pull her horizontal, carrying her as if on an invisible stretcher, and begin to push her out the window.

They’re taking her .

One of the vines puts out a bud, which blooms into a flower before my eyes. The scent is beguiling. Even with the energy from the stimulant coursing through me, I feel my eyelids droop, my breathing beginning to slow.

I let myself slump to the ground as the vines let me go. It takes all my self-control to lie still, silent, as the trees steal away the woman I’m sworn to protect.

When the rustling subsides and all is still, I leap to my feet and bolt for the front door. Following Sinead’s scent is not hard; it calls to me, even at a distance. I spread my wings, floating down from branch to branch, thorn-daggers drawn in my lower hands.

They’re taking her to the forest floor. My stomach turns, recalling the Old Kin tale. They sent out their roots to drag him into the depths of the earth. He was never seen again.

The trees buried that long-ago ancestor because he was beyond reason, unrepentant in the evil he was doing. I didn’t know the eleven former ambassadors very well—they could’ve been just as hard-headed as Berry.

But I know Sinead. They’re making a mistake to condemn her.

I just hope I’m in time to stop them.