Torrent of Tears (Scourge Survivor Series Book 3)(17)
Terran rubbed his palm over his mouth, looking concerned. Moving directly behind me he bent down to speak close to my ear. “You must be careful. You shouldn’t—”
“Oooo there she is.” A chorus of giggles and chatter invaded my suite. It was hard to determine how many Princesses had descended upon me since they had obviously just popped out of their genie bottles and all of them dressed and spoke exactly the same.
“Princess Grace,” one of the harem said, “these are Princesses Charity, Faith, Hope, Mercy, Peace, Purity. . .” The list went on as elegant fingers and curtsying maidens identified themselves one by one. I scanned the crowd, the vapid smiles, the flowing skirts and the ringlets bouncing against blushed cheeks. Besides them all having the same amethyst eye color as me, I couldn’t see any indication that these were my peeps. I mean . . . really?
It took about two seconds before they noticed I was still in my robe and started scrounging in my closet, picking out what I should wear to be presented to the Queen.
“Princess Love told us all about you not having a mentor.” Insert a chorus of identically pity-filled gasps. “And that you weren’t even raised as a royal?”
In that moment, I had never been so glad that Reign had raised me in my life. Thank the gods, or the Fates, or Balor or whoever connived to have me raised differently than these women. They were staring at me. I’d missed something and they were waiting for a response.
Shit.
“Of course she does, Princess Zeal,” Terran said, accepting a violet scarf from the outstretched hands of one of the blond ones. “Princess Grace was just saying how she loved the contrast of violet next to her eyes. How thoughtful of you all.”
I nodded and reached out for the embroidered scarf Terran was holding. “Yes. Thanks. It’s beautiful.” I flashed Terran an adoring smile until a familiar sensation heated my spine.
Oh, no. Not now.
With as much calm as I could fake, I grabbed Terran’s wrist and shot him an urgent look. His gaze met mine and his eyes widened. My irises would be almost completely violet by now. Shit, I should have given him a head’s up on this. Just once could I leave my freak-defect out of things?
Terran discreetly sat me back into my make-up chair and ushered the crowd out of my bathroom and toward the door. “All right ladies, Princess Grace needs to gather her composure before meeting the Queen. It’s a very exciting time and she needs to . . .”
***
From one instant to the next my consciousness transported from my suite inside the palace into a windowless room, dimly lit by the glow of pillar candles. Blue smoke rose up from a wide stone hearth to coil beneath blackened beams and what appeared to be an earthen ceiling. The sinister cloud roiled above the head of a sixty-something brunette with a hot-pink racing stripe in her hair. She tipped her head back with a glass bottle propped between red wine lips.
I sniffed cautiously. Beyond the tang of incense and the earthy musk of moss, the heady bite of alcohol filled my head. I stepped further into the shop.
The woman lowered the bottle and swallowed. Ahh, cherry brandy . . . and by the kick and burn that hit the back of my throat, it was quality stuff. I swallowed reflexively and moved toward the long wooden counter that ran the length of the room. When I got close, she clutched her hand shut and stiffened. With narrowed eyes, black in the dim cast of the candle’s glow, she swept a suspicious glare around the room.
Cool. Could she see me? No, she stared right through me into the glow of the candles beyond. After a shake of her head she took another swig and really focused on making some deposits into her mindless buzz account.
Why was I here? Usually visions showed me something important, something that needed to be stopped or interrupted: a Scourge raid on an unsuspecting village, an exiled race about to be reinstated . . . or occasionally where I left my cell phone. From time to time I got a voyeur’s look into the personal lives of the people I was close to. Sometimes real personal, but hey, I had no control. The Fates showed me what they showed me and I had no choice but to sit back and enjoy it—no matter how naked people got.
I stepped over to the sideboard on the opposite wall and snooped: candles, herbs, essential oils, charms and potions.
Wing of bat and eye of newt.
After downing the majority of her liquid relief, the numbing blanket began to settle over my bones. It did nothing to ease my mind, but interactive boozing was an unexpected perk and the tension in my muscles and bones eased. When a clock in the distance struck noon, the woman got to her feet, took a quick balance check and then brushed back the tangle of chestnut and fuchsia hair that fell behind her shoulders.
Abandoning the near-empty bottle for a freshie, she blew out the candles and scooped soil from the dirt floor with her boot to smother the fire. Straightening, she reached for the edge of a glass fronted cabinet and I expected her to pick out some kind of sleep remedy or hangover cure. She didn’t. The entire cabinet pivoted from the wall.
Behind that neat lineup of bottles, herbs and potions was a hidden door. Before I could get close enough to follow her, she slipped through the opening and pulled the cabinet to right itself against the wall.
***
“All right, Terran, here she comes.”
I followed the soothing timbre of two male voices. As they whispered, warm fingers brushed against my brow and pressed against my neck. I hated to wake up. There was an inverse relationship between the clarity of my mind and the distance between my head and the floor. When I came back from my little trips to vision-landia my head spun and I wouldn’t have the strength or the capacity to sit up.