But he drew her past the wagons and down the steep slope beyond, and she soon realised he was taking her to the little shelter he’d built that morning. The wind had blown the blankets into a roll against the base of it, so they untangled and spread them out again. The air stilled and grew warmer and she guessed he was using magic.
They settled, close enough that she could feel the warmth and firmness of his thigh against hers.
“Rielle,” he said. “You are happy at the news.”
“I am,” she told him.
“But you… pause.”
She looked down, thinking of her earlier deliberations. It would hurt him needlessly to tell him she didn’t yet love him, especially as there was every chance a passion for him would grow anyway.
“I understand,” he said. “You have been with us for many days. You may need many more days to decide.”
She shook her head. “I have decided.” Reaching under her tunic to where she had fastened the braid, she untied it. “That does not mean I have no doubts. I am not young. I have seen things and done things that taught me to see trouble in every choice.”
He nodded, his expression sympathetic. Listening.
She opened her mouth to try to explain more, but not yet knowing all the words she closed it again. As she brought the braid into view she saw his eyes widen and then rise to meet hers.
She paused, then wrapped it around his wrist. “I don’t want to leave,” she told him as she tied the knot. “You, and your family. It would… it would make me… unhappy.”
A grin flashed, and then faded to a smile. He looked at her searchingly, then reached out to touch her face. As he leaned forward she knew he was going to kiss her and she smiled, and the world seemed to tilt so she moved forward to meet him.
Their lips met. Warmth. Soft skin. A gentle but firm press, then exploration. Angels, he is a good kisser, she thought, taking hold of his arm to steady herself. He did not seem inclined to disengage and she was in no hurry. Maybe I wouldn’t be unhappy if he has more in mind…
But at that moment the distant sound of drums and music started. He pulled away. “They will want us to go back,” he said.
“Ah,” she replied, hoping she didn’t sound too disappointed. “Do we have to?”
“Yes.” He chuckled and stood up, then tugged her to her feet. “Before we do…” He made a little grimace. “The leaders say the Raen will not see you as a threat once we are married. So we must marry before the end of the Gathering. On the last day.”
She nodded. “I understand.” Then she laughed. “Ankari will want to make… make…”
“Clothes. Plans.” He smiled. “Yes. And you must learn the words of the ritual.”
Rielle winced. “Are there many?”
He chuckled again. “You will find out tonight.” He pointed to the plateau.
“Sadeer!” Rielle exclaimed, turning to look. “When?”
“Now.”
“Then we must go back quickly!” She let go of his hands, turned and took a step towards the wagons.
And stumbled to a halt as she realised someone was standing behind her. For the smallest moment she thought it was one of the Travellers come to make sure they did not get up to mischief before their wedding night.
But the face was not that of a Traveller, and the features sent a shiver of recognition through her.
A hand gripped her arm. She heard Baluka shout.
Then all turned to white.
CHAPTER 15
Two, three, four landscapes appeared and disappeared in rapid succession, but Rielle did not see them. She did not even try to take a breath, sure that she would not have managed it in the slip of time air was available. Instead, she stared and stared at the face before her as shock turned to uncertainty and dread.
Is it him, or the other?
His hair did not reflect blue. His skin was pale, but not white. His eyes were cold and calculating, and she was glad they were not fixed on her.
His head was tilted, gaze distant, as if listening to something.
As she thought this, her awareness spread beyond him and she sensed a shadow. Not one of the shapes within the whiteness from the next world, like objects seen through several layers of sheer curtains, but a presence, closer, though still veiled by distance.
Coming closer.
The grip on her arm tightened. She saw the Angel–or Raen–narrow his eyes and their progress slowed a little. A shape began to form in the whiteness and she heard a familiar voice in her mind.
“Rielle!”
Baluka? Was he following?
The Angel/Raen’s eyebrows rose and his mouth twisted in contempt. He looked away and she sensed them moving again. A world flashed in and out of sight. The presence was there again, in the space between the next worlds, but barely discernible. Another world flashed in and out of sight, and in the whiteness she searched in vain for it, wanting to know if it was Baluka, wanting him to keep up, wanting him to steal her back. And then she realised what might happen if he did catch up, and she searched with fear in her heart, relieved when she found nothing.