Blood Memories [Last of Elves book 1] (NaNoWriMo 2014)

Forty-One: Panthera

Panthera

Roaming the passageways of the temple, intentionally avoiding his sister, his eyes were dark in thought. He’d promised her that they would go home.

He just had to work out how.

The priestess found him in the open room he’d claimed as his own, standing in the doorway to the terrace, just staring at the darkening sky.

“Panthera?”

He turned his head, blinking to drag himself out of his thoughts. “What do you want?”

She made no response for a moment, but he wasn’t inclined to change his mood. Not right now, and not even for her. He heard her sigh, and she came further into the room to stand beside him.

“Are you alright?”

He shrugged a shoulder and leant against the doorframe. He still refused to look at her. “There’s nothing that can be done.”

She frowned at him. “Are you sure?”

He nodded, glancing at her at last. “I know what can be done and what can’t,” he answered. “And I can feel your yearning. What is it that you want so much?”

She looked away from his dark gaze. “There’s nothing that can be done,” she said almost bitterly, throwing his words back at him. He smiled, and took her hand, drawing her with him to the railing. It seemed as though she’d forgotten their last conversation.

He hadn’t, but he wasn’t going to bring it up. The less mention of his sister, the better.

“You feel trapped here, don’t you, my priestess?” He tightened his grip when she made to pull out of it, not looking at her just yet. “You feel a yearning to be away from the stone walls. To be someone that no one knows.”

Finally, he looked at her. She was trembling, shaking in his hold, and he ran tender fingers down her cheek.

“And now I’ve scared you, my priestess. Fierce priestess.”

She shook her head, appearing to be thinking about what she was going to say. Finally, she spoke, softly, refusing to look at him. Her fingers traced the carvings in the railing.

“I never wanted this life. I have memories of working, of having a home, with a family. Of not being noticed. I want it again, Panthera. I just can’t.”

She turned away, meaning to leave him, but he still had hold of her hand, and he wasn’t going to let her go just yet. She looked back at him, pausing.

“Please let me go.”

He shook his head, keeping his eyes on her. “Let me ask you one thing,” he said softly, carefully drawing her back to him. She bit her lip, waiting. She was still trembling.

“Come with me?”

She blinked, staring at him. “What?”

A smile crossed his face briefly. “Come with me,” he repeated.

She drew back, shaking her head slightly. “Panthera, I can’t leave the temple. You know that!”

He followed her, keeping hold of her still, and led her through the passages. “I know. But that’s not what I meant.” Finding his room, he pushed open the door, and tugged her inside. “Just listen for a minute – and put these on,” he added.

He threw her one of his spare shirts and a skirt that he’d found for his sister, and began searching for the pair of boots that he knew were lying around.

“Panthera, what are you planning?”

He glanced at her, one boot in his hand and a grin on his face. “You wanted to leave, didn’t you? Sunsets are gorgeous at the gates this time of year.”

At her dumbstruck silence, he ducked back to looking for the other boot, which he quickly found. Straightening, he held them carelessly, looking at her.

“I’ve scared you again.”

She shook her head, looking down at the clothes he’d thrown into her hands. “No, I … I just don’t quite understand.”

He crossed the room, dropping the boots at their feet, and framed her face, tilting it upwards. “Priestess, give me this,” he murmured. “Let me surprise you.”

She dropped her eyes, amusing him. “I don’t know,” she answered. “I don’t know what you’re planning.”

“I know. That’s half the fun, my dear.” Deciding that she wasn’t going to do it herself, he slid his hands around her back, finding the laces that held her dress up, and pulled.

She yelped as the material slithered to pool at her feet, and clutched the clothes she was holding to her. She glared at him, her dark brown eyes struggling with laughter.

“What are you doing?”

His own laughter was being equally as hard to contain. “You didn’t seem to be capable of doing it yourself,” he said, when he was at last suitably grave. “Do you need any more help?’

“No!” she snapped, picking up her dress. “Fool.”

He grinned at her, watching as, despite her words, she discarded her dress, pulling the shirt and skirt on instead. As she reached for the boots, she looked up at him again. He was unable to hide his smile.

“Fine,” she said irritably. “You knew I would do it anyway. Happy now?”

He merely held out a dark blue cloak. “You’ll need this. It’s going to be cool outside tonight.”

Both boots on, she looked at him, fear a tentative light in her eyes. “Are you sure about this?”

Seeing that she wasn’t going to touch the cloak, he draped it around her shoulders himself, fastening it, before laying the back of his hand on her cheek.

“Do you trust me, my priestess?” he asked softly. She just gazed at him. Slowly, she nodded.

“Yes.”

“Then I am sure.” It was simple to him. Taking her hand, he grabbed his own cloak and towed her to the door. Making sure the coast was clear, they hurried to the handout area, where he knew there would be no temple warriors standing guard. She hesitated, though, and he looked back at her.

“What is it?”

She glanced back at the temple. “You knew there was no one here.”

He nodded. “I did. I’ve been roaming the city for a long time, priestess.”

She nodded slowly, following him when he began to move again. “If we’re really going to go through with this,” she said softly. “You’d better stop calling me that.”

He grinned at her, taking her hand and holding it tightly. “If you insist, Naameh,” he answered.

He took her around the town, keeping to the well-known streets and late-night shops. He found enjoyment in her fascination, and let her do what she wanted. He knew that she was revelling in her anonymity.