Embarrassed, and angry, Taya allowed him to shove her back down the aisle. When they emerged near the curtained entry, she was breathing hard. She said, “How dare you manhandle the granddaughter of the great—”
“She didn’t appear all that great just now.”
Then the truth dawned. “Blessed gods. I didn’t recognize … That was her voice.” Humiliation turned her face bright red. “Grandmother is such a disgrace!”
“She has needs, Taya, just like everyone else.”
“Needs! She’s—”
“Why do you think she’s rutting out behind the longhouse in the dirt and leaves when she could be snuggled in her warm bedding hides? She’s trying to be discreet.”
“I hardly think—”
“I know you are angry with me. Let’s discuss that.”
“With … with you?” she said in confusion.
“At having to marry me.”
Her breast was still heaving with indignation at her grandmother’s indiscretions. It took her some time to refocus on what he was saying. “I didn’t realize how much of an embarrassment this would be. Didn’t you hear the scorn in the voices—?”
His grip on her arm tightened. “Try to understand. The small slights we suffered today will be nothing compared to what lies ahead. We stand on the verge of a great cataclysm. I don’t know if I can stop it. You will need to be strong—”
“Why? Why do I have to be there? It has nothing to do with me!”
Sky Messenger’s grip tightened even more, the hurtful grip of a careless stranger. He bent down to stare into her eyes. Like a man possessed by an evil Earth Spirit, his voice went strangely deep and guttural. “I don’t know why. But you and I are about to embark on a long, dangerous journey that will not end until the vault of the sky splits wide open and Elder Brother Sun is swallowed by blackness. With your own eyes, you will see the World Tree ripped apart and her flowers fall like snow upon the barren earth. I guarantee you that you will feel utterly abandoned and alone. The weight of despair will crush your heart until you long to die. But you cannot turn away. You are part of the Dream now. It is your destiny. So …” He abruptly released her arm and straightened to his full height, towering over her. His dark eyes seemed to be backlit by a fire that burned inside him. “Are you brave enough to walk in the truth at my side?”
“Walk in the truth?”
His voice had affected her like a Spirit Plant in her veins. She felt lightheaded, her heart thundering. He’d never spoken to her this way. It was exhilarating. She leaned toward him, a sensual, instinctive movement, waiting for his next words, and his handsome face slackened. She could see desire in his eyes, but it was filled with such a deep aching sadness that it made her suddenly wish to weep.
“Who was she? You keep thinking about her!”
He blinked. “What?”
“The woman you loved. The one who left you? She’s always between us, especially when we are beneath the hides together. Who was she?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he took her hand and led her to their chamber in the longhouse. He undressed her roughly. After they’d both slipped between the hides, he tenderly kissed her face and neck, the touch of his lips as soft as falling leaves. He was obviously trying to distract her from the question. His mouth moved to her slight breast, his warm tongue encircling her nipple, and she shivered. She had never experienced such sensations in her life. Not even when she’d been with the young warrior Dadjo. A trembling undercurrent of something akin to fear went through her, but it was delicious.
“Tell me,” he said, “if I do anything that frightens you.”
She whispered back, “I want you to frighten me,” and arched her back against him.
Twenty-two
Grandmother Moon’s gleam filled the midnight forest. The stark branches, mostly leafless now, shone with a dove-colored brilliance. A black filigree of twig shadows shifted in the slight breeze.
As Chief Atotarho wound around the rocky outcrops that jutted into the trail, he said, “This is where he said to meet him? A curious choice.”
“Yes, my chief. I don’t like it either. It’s too far from the village.” Negano, the leader of Atotarho’s personal guards, had his war club clutched tightly in his fist. He was of medium height, muscular, wearing a black cape that blended with the darkness. He’d smeared his feral face with charcoal, as had the other four guards. It made them almost invisible on the trail behind Atotarho. “If he attacks you here—”
“I told him to come alone,” Atotarho informed him.